Chapter Twenty-One

"Richard, hello! I'm surprised to see you at home in the middle of the day."

Emily could hear the voice at the front door echo all the way to the bedroom. And she felt a cold vice grip on her insides.

"I'm here helping Emily," Richard replied simply, knowing better than to divulge private information.

"Oh I do hope she's feeling better. I know how busy she is, planning the DAR induction luncheon, preparing all those girls for the debutante ball, and all those other charities she works with."

"She's feeling much better. I know she's happy to be home and catching up on things."

"Has she fallen behind? That's not like Emily. Though a stint in the hospital is sure to delay things. I would be happy to help out with anything she needs."

Richard's polite smile faltered. "Why don't you have a seat in the living room," he suggested. "Our maid is out at the moment, unfortunately. Can I get you a glass of water, perhaps?"

"No, I'm fine, Richard."

"I'll just go ask Emily if there is anything you can help with." He hurried upstairs. He closed the bedroom door behind him so their voices wouldn't carry. "Mitzy Lightfoot is here," he informed her.

"I know. I could hear that high-pitched, simpering, stupid voice of hers," Emily replied bitterly. "I cannot believe she just showed up here! She couldn't have known that I'm home."

"I don't think she was expecting us to be here. She looked shocked when I opened the door."

"Oh yes, I'm sure those beady eyes of hers went wide. And that fat chin wobbled and dropped open, didn't it?"

Richard had to laugh a little. "Emily, you are positively vicious!" he commended.

She growled, "That woman is obnoxious and devious and absolutely awful. I bet she wanted to try to get information out of the maid. I'm sure she was positively delighted to see someone who actually had information about me."

"I tried not to let on anything about your condition."

"I heard. Thank you."

He paused a beat. "Emily, she's downstairs."

"Get rid of her."

"How am I supposed to do that?"

"I don't care, Richard, just get that woman out of my house!" Emily was practically begging. This was all too much at once. She couldn't walk. She couldn't defend herself. She couldn't possibly handle any of the million things she was responsible for. She had just finished sobbing on the stairs, and now she could feel the panic returning. "She can't be here. Get her out!"

Richard patted her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her. "I'll do what I can. I can't just throw her out. She'd get suspicious."

"I don't care what you do! I need her out! Get her out of my house!" Even Emily heard the hysterical note in her voice.

After assuring her that he would do his best, Richard went back downstairs. "I'm so sorry to keep you waiting, Mitzy. Emily is incredibly busy at the moment. I'm afraid you caught us at a rather inconvenient time."

"I'm so sorry, I should have called before coming over," Mitzy said in feigned apology.

"Yes, you should have. But here you are," Richard retorted with an equally false smile. He gestured to the door. "I'm sorry Emily can't see you right now. She has everything under control, but she wanted me to pass on her gratitude for your generous offer to help."

"Oh it is my pleasure. You tell Emily to call me if she need anything. And I hope to see her around the DAR office soon," Mitzy replied, following Richard to the foyer.

"Mhmm. You give Howard our best."

And with that final pleasantry, Richard slammed the enormous front door closed behind her. He wiped his hands of the situation with a smirk. He thought he'd taken care of that quite nicely. "Emily, she's gone!" he called, climbing back up the stairs to see her.

"Good."

Richard was surprised to hear her voice sound weak and feeble like that. She'd just been practically yelling at him to throw Mitzy Lightfoot out of the house. "Emily?"

Her gaze was unfocused. Her brow was knitted together with concern. She didn't answer him.

"Emily, are you alright?"

She blinked a few times before looking at him. "I'd like to take a shower."

"Alright. Let me help you."

Emily resigned herself to accepting Richard's assistance. He helped her walk to the bathroom and get the shower started. She was capable of disrobing and showering by herself. But she did ask him to get her silk pajamas out for her to change into. He did as she asked and tried to put things away as best he could while she was in the bathroom. There were some things that he didn't know what to do with, so he just left them in the bag that Lorelai had taken them in.

The bathroom door opened, and Emily emerged with a towel wrapped around her hair and a robe over her pajamas. She wordlessly walked past Richard, removed the robe, and carefully got back into bed.

"Is there anything I can get for you?" he asked.

"No," she murmured.

"Shall I come get you for dinner?" He also realized that there was no one to cook dinner.

"No," she repeated, just as deflated as before.

Richard frowned but didn't comment. He leaned over to kiss her forehead. "Just rest, my dear."

Emily closed her eyes. A calm washed over her. It was a strange feeling, but once she accepted that there was absolutely nothing she could do, it didn't seem to matter one way or the other. She could sleep at home in her own bed. That was all she was capable of. So that's what she would do.