I'm so busy, but since yesterday went very well for me job-wise, I was in the mood for an update, even though the next chapter isn't ready, yet. I usually only update when it is, but well, I'm in the mood. Especially after the new DC.

Thanks to all for your reviews. The alert function wasn't working and I thought at first you wouldn't like the story anymore, but then I checked the ff page – and voila, there they were. You're really great. Thanks so much. Enjoy this!

Chapter 14: Gifts

We're at the mall, shopping for a christening dress. It doesn't seem right to give her Rory's. We also agreed to try the maid thing after the christening. After we found a beautiful dress – Becky will look like a princess – my eyes and feet are wandering to the toys.

"What are you looking for? Becky can't use any of these things for a long time," Lilly says, as I'm about to flip through a book suited for a child who goes to kindergarten.

"It's not for Becky," I reply, going over to some dolls in pink dresses and with pink bows in their hair. Beautiful. Every little girl would love it.

"Oh. So it's … it's for Rory, isn't it?" she asks me hesitantly.

"Yes. Her fourth birthday will be on Tuesday after the christening. I always send her a gift," I explain.

"So you don't go over and visit them?"

"No. Well, I did at first, but as I told you, it didn't turn out so well. Now I'm sending something over and in return I get a phone call. From Rory," I say, trying not to sound bitter.

"I'm sorry."

"Well, it's not your fault," I dismiss her attempt to comfort me before turning to some puzzles. "If I just knew what to pick. She's smart. Already knows the state capitals," I mutter. It's these things our phone calls are about. Look, Mom, Rory already knows the state capitals – she'd love to show you. And then she'd hand Rory the receiver – just to get away from me. I even wondered if maybe she teaches her these things, so she has an easy excuse on the rare times "we" talk.

"Maybe you should try again. Bring it to her in person," Lilly suggests.

"Here's a puzzle that shows America. But then, if she already knows the states … maybe I should go with a doll. Which little girl doesn't like a doll?" I babble, ignoring her suggestions. Lilly sighs.

"Well, if you say she's smart, why don't you get her a book? At one of the pictures you showed me, she also had a book, and she wasn't even a year back then."

That's true. "But what kind of book? A story book? One where she learns something?"

"Can't you give her one of each?" she asks.

"Of course, I can." And that's what I do. In the end I got her Cinderella, a book about how the first settlers came to America – made for children of course - and the beautiful doll. I know Lorelai will complain again that it's too much. That is, if she even talks to me, but I can't change it. I know so less about Rory, that I can't know what she'll like most. So she'll get everything. Well, not everything, but two books and a doll.

"Do you want me to take it to the post office? I'm going for a walk with Becky anyway. It would be no trouble," Lilly asks me, pulling me out of my thoughts. I look wistfully at the package in my hands, trying to imagine Rory's face when she opens it. But how to imagine her facial expression, when I don't even know her face? At least not her four-year-old face. She grows so fast. I sigh and look up at Lilly.

"That would be nice," I reply, handing it to her. "Are you sure you don't want to go out to lunch tomorrow after the christening? I'm sure I still could get a table," I offer again.

"No, thanks Mrs. Gilmore. I'd like to eat here."

I nod. "But then you decide what we'll have for lunch. Just go and tell Marietta."

"I will. Anything else you want me to pick up for you?"

"No, thanks." I again look wistfully at both of them leaving with Rory's gifts. If only I could see her again. Maybe I really should just go there again. But no, I'm not even sure she'd recognize me.

"Thank you, Mrs. Gilmore, that's a beautiful dress," Lilly says to me, when I give my gifts to Becky – my godchild – after the christening.

"You're welcome," I smile at her.

"And here's a little something as well, might come in handy later," Richard says, giving Lilly an envelope containing a bankbook. I decided to pay in something every month, so that Becky isn't completely penniless, when she's grown up.

Lilly gasps. "That … I can't accept that. It's just, it's just too much," she stammers.

"Nonsense. I want my godchild to be secured. Don't you dare refusing it," I threaten Lilly, pointing my finger at her before taking Becky from her arms. "Right? You need a little money when you're grown up. So tell your mama to stop acting silly and to accept it," I baby talk with Becky, but my eyes are resting on Lilly.

"All right. Thank you. Both of you. I honestly wouldn't know what to do without you," she says, tears in her eyes. I look at Richard and he puts his arm around me. "Look out! She's going for your necklace," Lilly cries suddenly, and I have trouble freeing Becky's fingers from my pearls.

"At least she has good taste," I joke, after I rescued my pearls.

"Seems like it," Richard chimes in. "Excuse me ladies, but I promised our man in Japan to give him a call," he says. I give him an accusing look. "I'm sorry, it won't be for long." Yes. Sure.

"Lilly?" I address her, after Richard went to his study.

"Yes, Mrs. Gilmore?"

"Please ask Marietta how long it takes until lunch," I say to her, debating with myself whether Richard needs half an hour or even longer for his 'not-so-long' phone call.

"Yes, Mrs. Gilmore," she replies, leaving for the kitchen.

"Lilly?" I call her back.

"Yes?"

"I don't think 'Mrs. Gilmore' is appropriate anymore. After all Becky is my godchild now. Call me Emily."

I can see her hesitating. "I don't think I should do that. I'll start to work as your maid tomorrow. I should call you 'Mrs. Gilmore'."

I sigh. "I always was against that," I mutter, but she's interrupting me.

"Please, ma'am. Let's leave it as it is. It wouldn't sound right otherwise. It would be disrespectful."

"If said with respect it's not disrespectful," I counter. "Besides, do you want my godchild to call me 'Mrs. Gilmore'?"

"She can't talk for some time. According to you, I'll stop being your maid a long time before Becky is able to talk. Let's face that problem, when she starts talking. But for now, I'd really feel better calling you 'Mrs. Gilmore'," she finishes.

"Fine," I resign. "Would you please check up on Marietta now?" I ask her again.

"Of course. Sorry," she replies leaving.

"You won't call me 'Mrs. Gilmore', I'll make sure of that," I whisper to Becky.

Surprisingly both - lunch and Richard - are ready within the next minutes. It's a nice time for all of us. After lunch the doorbell rings and the photographer comes in.

"But … Who?" Lilly stammers confused.

"You don't think I'd go without pictures on a day like this, don't you? I'm not becoming a godmother everyday. And we're all dressed up anyway," I explain, looking at Lilly's green flowing dress, who covers the signs of her recent pregnancy. I'm glad I convinced her to accept it.

Lilly's eyes are shining. She comes to me and Becky, who's again in my arms, pretending to smooth her christening dress. "Thank you, Mrs. Gilmore. You don't know what that means to me," she says gratefully.

"Maybe I do," I reply, quickly touching her cheek to wipe away the one tear that fell from her eyes. "But now, try to smile," I encourage her.

"Yes, ma'am."

The pictures will be beautiful. Becky. Lilly and Becky. Becky and me. Lilly, Becky and me and all four of us. Yet I know that she misses her family. It's not that she says anything or complains in any way, but the look in her eyes. I know it all too well. It still hasn't left mine.

I finished several phone calls with DAR ladies, concerning our next charity event. Sometimes I wonder where they left their brain or if they had one to begin with. Why is it that if you want something done properly, you have to do it by yourself? It always comes back to that.

"Mrs. Gilmore?" Lilly is interrupting my thoughts.

"Yes?"

"I'm finished with the ironing."

"Good. I'll look at it later. Then you can start cleaning the windows," I give Lilly her next job. She hesitates. "Do you think that's too hard physically? I can think of something –"

"No. It's not that. I'm sure I could manage. I was just wondering…"

"Yes?" I still have to check with the caterer. It would be a miracle if there wouldn't be any problems with him.

"I was wondering, if maybe you'd allow me to leave for a few hours," she says, sounding relieved that it's out.

"What?" I ask perplex, giving her my full attention now.

"I know, I have yet to work for two hours. And I will. In the evening. As soon as I'm home. But I need to do something first. Please. I know the timing is bad," she says contritely.

"I'd say it is. Where do you want to go anyway?" I demand.

"I can't tell you," she says, looking down.

"Well, that's just the answer I wanted to receive," I reply sarcastically.

She sighs. "Please. Just for today."

"And what about Becky? Do you plan to take her with you to your mysterious place?"

"I thought maybe you could take care of her," she says, biting her lip.

"So let me summarize: On your first day of work – and you wanted to work – you ask me to leave early, don't say why and want me to take care of your daughter in the mean time. Did I get that right?" I say a little passive-aggressively.

"Pretty much. I will catch up on my work as soon as I'm back," she replies quietly.

"I knew we shouldn't have started this. It's not going to work," I state.

"Yes, it is. It was only a question. It's up to you. If you don't allow it, I'll stay. Simple as that," she says.

I look at her and she seems sincere. Yet I see that she desperately wants me to let her go. I could look after Becky I don't think I have to leave the house… "But you really want to go? It has to be now?"

"Yes, ma'am. But as I said, it's your decision."

"And you can't tell me where you're going?" I ask again, knowing I'm repeating myself and only prolonging everything.

She shakes her head. "I'm sorry."

"What if something happens to Becky?" I ask the last thing coming to my mind.

"I won't be gone for long," she promises.

I sigh. "If it's that important – go." She looks at me and I nod at her. "Don't worry about Becky."

"I won't. Thank you. I promise I'll finish my work as soon as I come back," she says happily.

"That's not necessary," I dismiss.

"Oh yes, it is," she insists.

She thanks me some more, goes upstairs to change into a jeans and a red blouse, kisses Becky, thanks me again and leaves.

When she comes back two and a half hours later – the caterer of course had also some mistakes in the menu - she looks defeated. Without a word she nurses Becky, before going back to her work. I wonder if it's something about her family. But the look in her eyes – I don't dare to ask.