A/N: Thank you for everyone's comments and criticisms on the last few chapters. I very much appreciate everyone's honesty. I took it to heart and after a lot of thought, sat down and re-wrote a lot of what I had originally planned for this part of the story. I like this version better and I think it is more true to the development of the characters. I hope you will forgive me if I have indulged in a little too much angst.
Chapter 11: Redefining It
"Lorelai, what are you doing here?"
"Gee, Mom. Feelin' the love."
Emily stared at her daughter in curiosity through the open front door, having shooed away the maid. "Its not Friday; its Wednesday. You never come by the house on Wednesdays."
Lorelai shrugged. "I didn't feel like going home, and I didn't want to drive all the way to Yale to see Rory, especially since she has so little time with Logan while he's here for Thanksgiving."
"What about work? You do still work, don't you?" Emily asked.
"Yeah, I took the day off. Didn't feel like dealing with those people today. Besides, I'm sure Michel booked some sort of pregnant women convention anyway, just to drive me crazy."
"Well, come in and tell me what's going on," she said knowingly, ushering her daughter inside. "Your father's still at the office, but I expect him home soon."
They sat down in the living room, and Lorelai marveled at the fact that she did not feel the usual twinge of repressed annoyance or long-suffering disappointment that she usually got from her mother. It was a nice change, but she found that it freaked her out a little.
"So how are the wedding plans coming?" Emily inquired.
"Oh, they're good. Everything's... coming together. Sookie hasn't decided on the menu yet, but she's promised me that I'll get to pick out the cake myself."
Rory – at Yale with Logan. Inn – fine, but the Frenchman was understandably annoying. Wedding – coming together, whatever that means. That left one last thing to cause Lorelai to appear unannounced at her parents' house on a Tuesday afternoon. "How's Luke?"
Lorelai breathed in deeply, as though preparing herself for something traumatic. However, her answer was a well-rehearsed, "He's fine."
"Did you two have a fight?"
Her response of "No" sounded suspiciously like a "Not yet."
"Well then what's the matter?"
"Nothing's the matter," Lorelai lied. "I just came to... visit with you. Why does something have to be the matter?"
"Please, don't insult my intelligence. You only come here when you have to, or when you need something. Its a staple of our relationship that I accepted long ago. Now, I know you're upset about something. It obviously has to do with Luke, or you would be home talking to him about your problem right now. So tell me, Lorelai, do you want to go ten more rounds of this or would you rather just skip to the end and tell me what's bothering you?"
Emily watched as her daughter stared at the ground for several moments, obviously contemplating what to say. When she spoke, her voice was guarded and measured, as though she were doing everything humanly possible to keep herself from bursting into tears.
"You're right. There's something going on with Luke. Well, Luke and me. Mostly me, I think..." She paused as her breath hitched in her throat, but then pressed on, heedless of the moisture gathering in her eyes. "I'm... well, I'm... Luke and I... I can't..." After the fourth try, Lorelai gave up trying to actually get it out, opting instead to say, "Its really something I should discuss with Luke first, I think, Mom. I'm sorry I'm sitting here putting you through this, but I need to talk to him about it first."
Emily pursed her lips in displeasure, but she understood her daughter's hesitance. "You're sure?" she confirmed.
Lorelai nodded, her mind made up. As much as she wanted to tell someone, to discuss the situation with someone with perspective, she knew Luke would never forgive her if he found out she had told her mother before telling him.
"I should go..." she began.
"Nonsense," Emily contradicted. "Your father will be home soon. Stay and have dinner with us."
She tried again, less convincingly, "I need to get back to Luke."
"Take a break, relax for a while, stop thinking about whatever you're thinking about for a few hours and eat some dinner. Besides, we're not going to be able to see you tomorrow for Thanksgiving. And I'm having the cook make roast beef. You like roast beef."
It was such an odd moment for Lorelai, so strangely comforting and sweet to be talking to her mother and not be overwhelmed by the need to escape the contact. Emily had not even said anything insulting yet, and she had been in her presence for a full ten minutes. That had to be some kind of record.
"Yeah, I guess... that sounds nice," she allowed, desperately not wanting to face Luke right away.
"You know, I ran into Susan Edelmeyer at the store today. She was buying the most atrocious green sweater..." Lorelai listened as her mother proceeded to tell her about her week, including all the irritating and foolish people she came into contact with. And in the process, she realized that enjoying Emily Gilmore's company was not difficult when her razor-sharp wit and refined scrutiny were trained on some other hapless victim, such as the fashion-challenged Susan Edelmeyer.
Before long, Richard returned home from work and he poured them both drinks before launching into a story of his own. If he was surprised to see Lorelai there, talking politely with her mother, he hid it well, noting only how wonderful it was that she had come to visit.
By the time dinner was served, the surrealism of the evening had Lorelai wondering if she had inadvertently fallen into an episode of The Twilight Zone. Emily had astutely veered away from any topic regarding Luke, the Dragonfly, or the wedding, and when Richard happened onto any of those subjects, she gracefully diverted his attention. They talked about Richard's work, the DAR, and whenever conversation hit a snag, "So how is Rory doing with her classes?" was good for at least twenty minutes of conversation and mutual bragging.
They talked about Thanksgiving and how Emily and Richard planned to drive to the Vineyard for the occasion to be with some old friends. Lorelai told them a little about the dinner Sookie was planning at the inn, and they all agreed that it would be a somewhat sad Christmas and New Year's with Rory going to London.
Once she had finished her dessert and was ready to collect her coat from the maid, Lorelai realized with a start that this had been, quite possibly, the most enjoyable dinner she had ever had at her parents' house without Rory. Her mother had been on her best behavior, and her father had been as charming and friendly as she had ever seen him. She almost felt sad to leave.
"You have my cell phone number if you need to contact me while we're out of town," Emily advised. "Call if you need anything," she stressed.
"Thanks, Mom," Lorelai said.
"And I mean that – anything. I don't know what has you so down today, but if you need someone to talk to..."
"I'll call," she assured her mother.
"And Lorelai? Before Christmas we really need to take you shopping for some new shoes. Those have to be the ugliest things I have ever seen," she noted with distaste. Her comment made Lorelai smile broadly, happy that at least one thing was still normal.
"We will, Mom," she said, getting into her car to drive home.
As Lorelai entered her house half an hour later, she sensed intuitively that something was wrong. The door was unlocked, so she knew Luke was home, but the only lights on were the ones in the foyer and the living room by the stairs. The kitchen remained as dark as the rest of the house.
Although it was only a little after 9:00 pm, Lorelai assumed her husband had already retired to bed, seeing as how he had been up early that morning and would likely be up early again the next day. While she knew she had to tell him about what the doctor had said, there would be no point waking him up to do so. And part of her was relieved to push that duty off for another day.
Paul Anka sat up from his place on the landing and greeted her with a timid whine, as if to admonish her for not having been home sooner.
"Hey," she whispered, reaching down to ruffle his fur. "Are you hungry? Did you have dinner yet?"
"I already fed him," came a gruff voice behind her.
Lorelai turned to see Luke sitting on the couch, watching her from amid the shadows of the mostly darkened room. Not dosing or sprawled out – just sitting. As though he had been waiting for her.
"I thought you already went to bed," she told him.
"We need to talk." His voice was hard like stone, and it sent a chill down her spine.
"Yeah, we do," she acknowledged sadly.
"What's going on with you and Christopher?" he asked pointedly, his tone so full of suspicion that Lorelai instantly felt guilty, even among her confusion at the question.
"Nothing!" she said immediately. "Why would you think there's something going on?"
"You've been in contact with him."
"Yeah, and I've told you about it every time," she answered, her anger growing with his insinuation.
At this point Luke stood up from the couch and stepped into the light. He was still fully clothed with his usual green jacket on, as though he had not even bothered to take it off when he got home. "Then why did he say in the message he left you tonight that you looked upset when he saw you today?"
This new information took Lorelai aback, as she glanced between Luke and the answering machine. "He called here?" she asked.
"Yeah, he called here. How long has that been going on?"
She sighed, too tired to have the same old argument. "Luke, I just... I ran into him today. That was it. I didn't have a chance to tell you earlier..."
"Then tell me now."
It was not a question and not a command, but a plea. The verbal equivalent of an outstretched hand. Luke looked at her in earnest, the anger in his face having changed into a desperate longing to understand what was going on.
"I ran into him when I was in Hartford this afternoon. The first time, before I came to the diner, before I went to my parents' house for dinner. He saw that I was upset, so he stopped to talk to me. I told him not to contact me any more, and then I got up and left."
Luke nodded, accepting this. "Why were you in Hartford?" he asked. "What upset you?"
"I went to a fertility clinic," Lorelai said bluntly.
"You... you what?"
She felt completely drained of strength, exhausted from wrestling with her emotions all day. Walking further into the room, she turned on one of the lamps and dropped onto the couch listlessly before continuing.
"I went to a fertility clinic in Hartford. Actually, I went there a couple of weeks ago for a consultation and to have some tests done. And today the doctor told me the results."
"Lorelai..." Luke began, but trailed off, not knowing where to start, he had so many questions.
"He said... he said he couldn't be sure, but that based on what information he has, he thinks the possibility of me conceiving is 'low,'" she said.
"Low..." he repeated, letting the word sink in.
"And getting lower as I get older," she added, her voice dropping as the sadness hitheragain. "He also said something about hormones and blocked tubes and-" But that was as far as she got before he was beside her on the couch, his arms around her in a firm embrace.
"I wish you had told me before," Luke said. "That you were so worried about this, that you made the appointment."
"I just wanted to be sure," Lorelai whispered. "I know you didn't want me to worry about it, but I couldn't stop thinking about it. And I wanted to know before the wedding."
"Why before the wedding?" Luke asked pointedly, pulling back so that he could look her in the eye.
"Because... I wanted to know. Just in case..."
She could not bring herself to look at him, instead glancing at her feet, at the coffee table, the pictures above the mantle. Anywhere but his soulful blue eyes, so full of love and understanding that it pained her to think about it.
"Just in case of what, Lorelai? In case I wouldn't marry you? Is that what you thought?"
"No..." She shook her head, but the tears that had begun to well up said otherwise.
Wordlessly, he pulled her back to him, laying her head against his chest as she sniffled rapidly, fighting back the urge to cry. She was so tired of crying, and she doubted that he relished that image of her either.
"You do realize that we're already married, don't you?" he asked, and he felt her nod against him. "And even if we weren't, nothing – nothing would stop me from marrying you. Kids or no kids." She nodded again, but he felt that somehow she was not quite hearing him, not quite believing him.
"You know, I never considered kids until I met you," Luke said. "Even after that, well... you remember how I was when Jess came to live with me. And, honestly, it wasn't until I saw you with Rory and how great that was, and how great she is, that the thought of being a father ever occurred to me. I know that's why Anna didn't tell me about April..."
"You would have been a terrific father, even back then," she said with certainty.
"It doesn't matter now. What matters is that I never wanted to have kids until I met you. And if you and I can't have kids, then that's fine. We have Paul Anka. We can get a plant or we can adopt or whatever you want to do. But you are the reason I would want to have kids. You. Without you, it isn't even a discussion."
"I feel like I've failed you," she admitted quietly. "I got pregnant when I was sixteen, and now when I really want to have a baby, I can't."
"Do you want it? Do you really?" he asked, looking deeply into her eyes.
"Of course I want it," Lorelai insisted.
"Because I don't want you putting yourself through all of this just because you think its what I want."
"I thought you wanted to have kids," she said, feeling confused.
"Only if you want them," he qualified.
"I do. I really do. I didn't realize how much until recently." The desperation in her voice was clear, as was the resigned sadness. "I don't know, maybe I just don't deserve to have kids with you." Lorelai said the last part very quietly, as though to herself. But it caught Luke's attention like a neon sign.
"What does that mean, you don't deserve to have kids?" he challenged. "Why would you say something like that?"
"Maybe, I don't know... maybe its Fate's way of punishing me," she suggested.
Puzzled, he asked, "Punishing you for what?"
"For what I did... for hurting you the way I did." She could not bring herself to mar their conversation by saying his name again.
"Lorelai, I thought we put that behind us," Luke said softly.
"Yes, but every time he does something to come back into our lives, its just a reminder. I can't forget it, Luke. I can't forget that I hurt you." She looked at imploringly, and he wondered how he had never seen the pain embedded in her eyes until that moment. "And then, all I can think is that maybe that's just it – maybe I shouldn't be allowed to forget. Because if I forget, it'll happen again. It happened before, with the tequila and my parents' wedding. And I swore then that if I got another chance, that I would do better. But then I screwed up even worse. And you forgave me – again. And now, I'm just so terrified of strike three, cause I know I'm on my last chance here."
Luke sat mutely, stunned by her outburst. He sincerely had no idea what to say or even where to start. It frightened him that she felt that way, and he had never realized it. Unable to stand the silence, Lorelai continued on with her soliloquy.
"So I thought maybe, once I got pregnant, that would prove that I'm 'all in,' here. That this is it for me. And then, when it wasn't happening, I just kept wondering, did I miss my chance? Is this my punishment for hurting you like I did? Because, you forgave me, and it was so easy. You were so good to me, and I didn't deserve it, but you were. You took me to Martha's Vineyard to get married, and it was so beautiful, and I didn't deserve any of that..."
"Stop," Luke said, reaching out to take grip her arms firmly. "Just stop. The only one punishing you here is you, Lorelai. You made a mistake. Yes, it hurt me, but it hurt you just as much. It was a mistake. You have to let it go. This isn't you, Lorelai. One night does not define your entire life."
"I'm so afraid of losing you again," she confessed.
"That's not going to happen," Luke told her. "But you've got to stop torturing yourself with this."
Lorelai nodded, unable to speak through the unshed tears caught in her throat. She was so proud to have gotten through their entire conversation without crying, and she refused to give into it again.
"Promise me, Lorelai," he demanded.
"I promise," she managed quietly, stiffly, then she closed her eyes in one last-ditch effort to keep the floodgates closed. Luke saw the signs of her internal struggle and quickly pulled her to him again, wrapping his arms around her in comfort.
"And promise me that you'll talk to me about this stuff, when it comes up. If something's bothering you, you have to tell me. And if its still bothering you, tell me again. 'Cause sometimes I don't get it the first time, but that doesn't mean I don't think its important. So, promise me, okay?"
"I promise," Lorelai parroted quietly.
"Promise me you'll stop worrying about this pregnancy stuff. We'll go to the doctor and see what we can do. Maybe its not as bad as you think. But promise me you'll stop stressing over it."
"I promise," she repeated, and he could sense that the words were getting easier for her.
"And promise me that if you do get pregnant, you won't drink coffee," he said in as serious a tone as he could muster.
"I..." Lorelai paused, and then she pulled away from him, laughing as she did so. It was a genuine Lorelai-laugh, still tinged with emotion but full of that sparkling quality of life she brought to everything she touched. "I have to draw the line somewhere," she joked.
He only smiled back, glad that she was starting to sound more like herself. "Come on, its late. Lets get to bed," Luke said as he steered her to the stairs.