AN - Thanks Elang - There will be more of April and Emily and I'm really hoping you like where it goes, it's a little bit of a risk but I'm hoping it pays off ;). So I know I promised it would get happier but there is a bit more of a bump in the road. This was a lot darker first time round but it's still up there. I'm sure some of you have guessed this was coming. Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoy. Let me know what you think. x
Chapter 25 –Remove the Bindings
Rory paused as the eyes of her therapist darted upwards again. Rory turned a fraction and peered over her shoulder. A red light was flashing silently. "Do I…"
"I'm afraid we are actually over time," the therapist smiled apologetically and softly closed the clothbound notebook she had been using to take notes of the session. "The person after you is nearly always late. You were doing so well I wanted to let you carry on. I mean they are late but today not as late as usual. Normally we would have more time."
"Oh. Right." Rory nervously scratched the inside of her left elbow. "Ok."
"Now, before you go. I just want to check you're happy with the techniques we spoke of?" the therapist shuffled forward on her seat. Rory gave a soft nod. "Good. Don't worry if they don't connect with you. Some methods work better for some people then others and it is about finding the right one to work for you. Just give them a fair go."
"OK," Rory nodded.
"Good," The therapist stood and gave Rory a beauteous smile until Rory rose from her own seat. "I'll see you next week."
"Next week," Rory nodded once more. "Thank you," she mumbled and slipped out of the door into the reception. She checked her next appointment slot with the receptionist, ignoring the rather annoyed man sat in the corner glaring at her and with a weak smile stepped out of the serene reception area into the nondescript hallway of a multipurpose office building. She quickened her pace, not slowing until she came level with the accountant's office further down the hall. She liked her therapist, which made a change from some of the others she had seen, but she hated the office she practised out of. For whatever reason the multicompany building made her feel like someone would see her and where she had come from. She wasn't sure who, but felt that whoever that person was would judge her and she really didn't want to be judged. It was why she wore what she did, smart pants and a blouse so she looked like she belonged to the accountancy firm not the psychologist. The rational part of her brain told her that was stupid, but that part seemed quieter and quieter these days. She knew in the long run that therapy would work, but sometimes with digging things up, things got worse before they got better.
xXx
"Why are you bouncing?" Michel hissed casting Lorelai a sideways glance.
"I'm not bouncing," Lorelai returned the look and forced her leg to still. She had been craning her neck to see Tom outside on the desperately slow thawing plot that was to be the spa. The contractor had come to confirm final measurements for his steels and check ground conditions. She had of course gone out to meet him but Tom had licked his pencil so many times in an attempt to get her to leave she had been worried he might get lead poisoning and had retreated to the front desk.
"Go bounce elsewhere Tigger lady," Michel wafted his hand at her.
"I'm not bouncing, and I only have work in the office, you can't see anything from the office and I need to see. You get mad at me if I futz with the curtains…"
"There is to be no futzing," Michel barked and then gave a heavy sigh. "Why do you torture me so? With the bouncing and the futzing and the using up all the voicebox."
"The what?" Lorelai turned to look at him curiously, her interest piqued enough to stop her worrying about Tom finding something drastically wrong to delay the construction.
"The voicebox on the cell phone, on Sookie's cellphone, you took up all the space," Michel rolled his eyes. "I wanted to moan at her for abandoning us and to tell her she was no longer welcome and I have permanently given away her job."
"Michel!"
Michel glared reproachfully at her. "But you filled it up. I know it was you. You have been calling her too much. And then I was in such a tizzy with the abandonment and the annoyance that I agreed with Frederick to make a baby, or order a baby. I don't know how it works, but one will be coming and I will have all the gross things that you have on your clothes on my clothes. This is silk," he gently held up his lapel. "This is not for babies to get sick on."
Lorelai smiled softly. "You and Frederick are trying to have a baby?"
"I don't know…have…buy," Michel rolled his eyes and then pouted. "He wants that…mess…but it makes him happy and I like for him to be happy."
"I never thought I would see the day. Michel Gerrard putting the happiness of another human being before his own," Lorelai smiled playfully at him. "My how your petty selfish heart has grown."
"Stop it!" Michel's pout transformed into a scowl. "This is why I do not discuss my private life with you. You always mock."
"It is one of my special skills," Lorelai held up her hands to signify a truce. "But. I promise. No more. And as for Sookie I told you she was going to let us know February 1st what her plans were. It's not my fault she has not deleted her messages."
Michel sighed heavily and his voice softened, sounding almost sad "Do you believe she will come back?"
"I don't know," Lorelai looked back towards the front door. "Other than the February 1st date she was more interested in talking about my Dad and then berating Luke and I for not doing anything for our tenth wedding anniversary."
"You were in no mood for celebrating. She would know this if she was here. What would you have done? Eaten more then you were already."
"Hey, Ixnay on the body shaming," Lorelai raised her eyebrows, subtly adjusting her blouse.
"I was not shaming. There is nothing too shame. You did not even puff and here was I hoping for ballooning. I hate that you can eat all that junk and stay looking so good. I so much as look at cake. Kabloom 50 pounds heavier," Michel scowled. "It is a travesty."
"Your math skills and understanding of human physiology are a travesty. My eating habits are just the work of Hades. Ooh Tom," Lorelai bounced again, pleased to see the contractor cross the inns frontage. Michel made a squeak of annoyance. "I'll take him into the restaurant."
"Just bounce away from me," Michel waved his hand. "Make sure he wipes his feet. The maids are on break and people will slip and fall if he leaves muddy wet footprints."
"Tom," Lorelai opened the door ignoring Michel's moaning behind her. "I'm hoping for good news. Are we a go?"
Tom gave her a look of the chronically put upon and gave a heavy sigh. "I can order the steels. The ground needs to thaw some more. Unless anything happens. More snow for example. I'd say…maybe…we can start 2-3 weeks."
"2-3 weeks," Lorelai held her breath. "Start in 2-3 weeks. Michel did you hear that?"
"Oh Goody." Michel mumbled uninterestedly, "loud banging and filthy men all over the inn."
"Michel Dirty!" Lorelai waved her hand grinning excitedly at Tom. "Ignore him. That's just how he likes it. Would you like a coffee and maybe a muffin or a scone?"
xXx
"Rory?"
She marked her place on the slide she was reviewing and looked up at her line supervisor. Mark, normally a florid red colour actually looked pale and for a moment she wondered if he was sick. Then she noticed his hands. He was wringing them nervously. Inwardly she sighed, this meant he was probably about to dump something on her. Karen, her push her sick leave to the max colleague was a no show today. It probably meant that she would be covering Karen's work. Just what she needed when they were about to enter the panic of senior essay's and research projects and all the writing and academic skills sessions become oversubscribed because students seemingly forgot how to write an assignment even though they must have done it at least 100 times prior to this final piece of work.
"Do you have a minute to talk in my office?" Mark turned and walked to his office, indicating that it was a rhetorical question. Office was generous. It was supposed to be a breakout meeting room, designed so the meeting had minimum impact on the others working in the office. There was no door and the wall was glass. It was like a giant fishbowl. Mark had commandeered it to make himself seem important or reinforce his higher grade. With a sigh she stood, Daphne sat opposite looked away refusing to make eye contact. Confused by this she crossed the room and slipped into the fishbowl. "Thank you Rory." Mark fiddled with something on his desk. An envelope. He handed it out to her. "I'm sorry. We lost a funding stream. There is your final payslip, as well as your pink slip," he babbled and then looked at the white envelope insistently. "I will happily give you a reference. You've done excellent work."
Slowly she reached out and took the envelope. Mark looked relieved, colour returning to his cheeks, his shoulders lifted of their burden. "I'm being laid off," The words came out matter-of-factly. It wasn't a question just a confirmation of what was happening. She felt something inside her ping. Actually heard the physical noise and then the rational part of her exhausted brain went to sleep. She turned and walked out of the fishbowl over to her desk. She grabbed what was hers; her mug, her notebook, her memory stick. A photograph of her family, her pen. Then she grabbed her coat and her purse, shoved her belongings inside and walked past Daphne and Mark and out of the office into the library, walking towards the foyer and the main entrance. When she saw daylight she started to run.
xXx
April smiled softly as she listened to the soft exhalation of excitement from her grandmother. They were sat in the den upstairs watching Bill Nye the Science Guy. She'd discovered her favourite tv series from when she was a kid on a streaming service and even though she had seen them too many times to count and had them on vhs and still had the vhs player she had asked her grandma if she could binge the series. Emily curious as to what binging actually meant had joined her and they had watched the first 6 episodes in one night. Now they watched one episode a day when April got home from work. Her plan to find something environmental to work on for the next six months had fallen away when she realised that anything really exciting would mean she would have to leave Hartford. Instead she had taken a job at a local coffee store while volunteering on local conservation projects. Watching the old favourite show was a pleasant way to shrug off the day and Emily seemed to enjoy it.
April actually enjoyed the gentle time with her grandmother. When she got talking, Emily was more than just doting grandma, there was this vibrancy and passion that made April grieve for her Grandma's lost potential. Nowadays she had the strong feeling that her Grandma could be an academic or curator, no matter how often Emily would end the conversation with a 'but I never intended to be a historian'. Each time it always sounded flat, like Emily was trying to make herself believe it.
"That simply cannot be the case," Emily shook her head in response to what had been said on the screen.
"Well kind of," April sat forward. "The show is like twenty years old now so the field has moved on a bit and it is simplified for the audience, but pretty much."
Emily shook her head in disbelief. "Well, I never knew that. There isn't a display on it at the Hartford Natural History museum." She shuffled forward. "I know several people on the board, I shall have to have words. Why are we not teaching people about this?" she gestured at the screen.
"You have a function that they will be at?" April asked cautiously. Emily didn't exactly go out an awful lot, her club meetings but only if she felt like it. The only appointments that were never missed was the hair and nails.
"Yes. Nora is organising a benefit," Emily muttered not taking her eyes off the screen. "I'm not sure what it's for, perhaps a new liver for her, but it's always important to support your true friends. You can come if you like. Nora finds you …" she paused and glanced at April sheepishly, "enjoys what you bring to the party."
"Bring out everyone's homophobia and misogyny you mean." April shrugged. "I know. She told me. She likes that it gives her things to blackmail people for donations with. Get them to assuage their guilt."
"How very Nora," Emily chuckled softly. "Which reminds me my stylist Celine is coming tomorrow. You may want to stay out of the way, she will most likely try and burn your clothes if she sees you and she will try and force you into a dress or skirt suit. She's very good but a bit old fashioned." Emily patted April's hand, her eyes still fixed to the children's show. "She likes everything the same. You shouldn't lose your individuality. These things are very important."
xXx
"Georgia?"
Gigi looked up from her cellphone as Mrs Bowler her History teacher who refused, no matter how many times it had been requested, to call her Gigi, rolled to a stop along side her in her car while she stood waiting at the school gate. "Hi Mrs Bowler."
"Is someone collecting you? It's nearly 6." The teacher peered at her through the open passenger window.
"My Mom was supposed to be but she's not answering her cell." Gigi glanced at the screen of her phone again. "Dad's at a conference in Vancouver so he can't pick me up, but I don't know where my Mom is. Maybe she got caught up at work or there is traffic or something."
"Georgia," the teacher's voice was calm and soothing. "Why don't I take you home?"
"Are you allowed to do that?" Gigi peered at the teacher.
"We're not supposed to but the alternative is waiting with you until you do get picked up. It's freezing and I have Chinese take out on order according to my husband so…" she leaned across to open the door. "Just message your parents to say what's happening."
"Thank you," Gigi climbed into the car. She gasped, it was boiling in comparison to the outside. She had been stood by the gate for the best part of an hour.
"Why you kids don't wear gloves I don't know," the teacher adjusted one of the car blowers to face more towards Gigi.
"Damages our reps," Gigi shrugged, typing the messages as quickly as her frozen hands would allow.
School was only a fifteen minute drive and she and Mrs Bowler kept up a pleasant conversation for the time it took to reach home. When they pulled up in front of the house Gigi frowned, her Mom's car was there but parked at an odd angle, like it had driven over the corner of the lawn and not been corrected. The house was dark. Gigi swallowed and glanced at the teacher who wore an expression of attempted concealment of concern.
"Thank you for bringing me home," Gigi smiled as widely as she could and opened the passenger door. "I guess Mom's taking a nap," she pointed at the car on the driveway. "I hope you enjoy your Chinese."
"Thank you Georgia," the teacher smile weakly.
Gigi closed the door and walked up the path. She could feel the teacher watching her, it was like prickles in the back of her head. She dug her key out of her purse and opened the door, waving goodbye for emphasis as she turned on the light. The teacher waved back but didn't drive off and so Gigi closed the door. She could see the car still sat there for a few moments, Mrs Bowler studying the house, clearly unsure if she should be left alone. Gigi wasn't sure she should be left alone but once she had taken her coat and shoes off and put them away Mrs Bowler finally drove slowly away. Gigi breathed a sigh of relief. She wasn't sure why. Mrs Bowler had been nice but she didn't like the being watched feeling. That and she had a feeling that something else was happening that she didn't want an audience for.
Her Mom had not been doing so well, not since Grandpa Richard died, maybe before that. Every so often she'd catch her lose focus and stare off into space or her Mom would get angry over the stupidest of things. When she'd tried to ask her, her Mom had said she was fine. When she'd ask her Dad he said that her Mom was not feeling herself but she would be OK. She'd known better then to ask further but she had discussed it with her friends and the 12 and 13 year olds had diagnosed her Mom with depression. Certainly her research of depression had matched up to what she saw in her Mom. If it was, she didn't want her teachers to see. Mom wouldn't like being seen like that.
"Mom?" she called cautiously. The hallway light illuminated the empty kitchen and living room. Slowly Gigi made her way up the stairs. As she neared the top she found her Mom's purse and her shoes trailing towards the small room at the back of the house that was her Mom's study. Gigi crept along the landing and peered around the corner of the door. She swallowed down her cry of surprise. Her Mom was sat on the floor hugging the cover of a book to her chest just staring into space. The pages of the book were strewn around the room. Ripped and torn. Gigi picked her way across the paper over to her Mom. "Mom?" she crouched in front of her. "Mom?" Rory blinked hard and then stared at her focused for a second before her eyes slid back into whatever stupor she was in. Even in a stupor the bright blue of her eyes shone out in the gloom.
"Gi…" Rory coughed unable to talk for some reason.
"Mom?" Gigi whispered forcing herself to smile. "I'm going to get you a drink of water. I'll be right back" Slowly she retreated from the room her heart racing in panic.
xXx
"Danes residence," he barked down the phone at the sixth ring. He never understood why people would call at this time of night, everyone knew that between 6 and 8 was peak getting the kids fed, bathed and into bed. There was a hiss of static on the line. "Hello?" he demanded ready to swear at whoever this telemarketer was.
"Pops?"
"Gigi?" Luke felt the tension rush out of him to be replaced by surprise and then confusion. "Is everything OK?"
"I…I…" Gigi stammered. "I don't know."
"Are You OK?" Luke asked her. He frowned she was panting, sounding panicked
"There's something wrong with Mom," Gigi's voice hitched, warbling slightly as she said the last part "She didn't pick me up from school so a teacher brought me home and when I got here she's just sat in her office. She's not moving, I don't know what to do."
Luke blinked as he absorbed what she had just garbled at him. "OK, hang on a sec, I'm gonna get Lorelai."
"OK?" Gigi's voice was small.
Luke turned and looked towards the kitchen, Lorelai was in a eat five mouthfuls battle with Grace. Grace appeared to be winning. He waved his hand at her. She frowned not moving from her place and mouthed what? At him. "Gigi's on the phone, there is something wrong with Rory." He and the children jumped as Lorelai's chair clattered backwards. She flew at him and he grimaced as Lorelai wrenched the phone from his hand, strong enough to feel like she would break a fingers.
"Gigi honey?" Lorelai spoke into the phone moving into the living room.
"What's wrong with Rory Daddy?" Willow asked, the other children had stopped speaking all attention on him.
"She's not feeling very well." Luke muttered lamely. "Mommy's going to sort it out, lets finish dinner" he walked back from his seat. Grace obediently picked up her fork and began to eat the food that she had just been refusing to eat. All of the kids would take a mouthful and then glance at Lorelai pacing in the living room. After only two minutes Lorelai came into the kitchen clutching the phone in her hands with white knuckle intensity. "Go look at flights," Luke spoke before she got at chance. He could see in her face the burning need to be with Rory. "We'll make it work."
xXx
"Excuse me?"
Lorelai turned to look at the man sat alongside her. She had paid a stupid amount of money to get the last flight of the evening from Hartford to Baltimore and now after busting her ass to get to the airport on time they were sat waiting for a straggler. She just wanted to get going so she could get to Rory.
"Are you a nervous flyer?" the man continued, he looked down pointedly at her leg.
"What?" Unconsciously she had been jiggling it in impatience as she stared towards the open door of the plane willing them to close it. "No. I just want them to get going. My daughter isn't very well. I need to get to her and…"
"It's just I have work to do." the man cut her off. "So if you could maybe…"
"I'll stay quiet and still, maybe you could refrain from being a selfish jackass and well get along fine." she gave him her most saccharine smile. She glanced behind her as someone gave a snort of amusement.
"If you want…"
Lorelai jumped and rotated to look at the older woman who was sat on the other side of the aisle one row in front. "If you want," the woman repeated. "I could switch. My husband is already asleep."
"There you go," Lorelai stood up and gestured widely towards the woman. Her seat mate blinked at her in surprise but did slowly get up pulling his bag from beneath the seat and grumbling under his breath took the seat that the older woman had just vacated. Lorelai fell into the window seat and then smiled gratefully as the woman took her seat. "Thank you."
"Not at all. Is your daughter OK?"
"I don't know," Lorelai admitted softly. "My granddaughter called me all in a panic. It's um…" she tapped the side of her head. "I kind of wish it was a broken leg. That I can actually help with."
"I know what you mean. These things are so hard to deal with," The woman sighed and then smiled pleasantly. "You don't look old enough to have a granddaughter."
"Well," Lorelai grimaced. "I had Rory at sixteen and she adopted her half sister by her father who was born when she was eighteen. Technically, I'm Auntie Glama because I refused to be Grandma. My mother is Grandma."
"My goodness," the woman chuckled. "It's a shame the flight only an hour long. Barely time to unpick this at all."
"You don't need to…I mean…" Lorelai blushed.
"This sounds more interesting then my book," the woman gestured to her paperback on her lap "and if I can help distract you then mores the better."
"Thanks," Lorelai inhaled drawing her shoulders up to her ears. She caught the flight attendant's eye. "Excuse me can we purchase beverages?"
"There is a drinks service once we are in the air." The attendant told her. "We hope to get under way shortly.
"Ok, great. We're gonna need a lot of gin and…"
"Gin for me also."
"Gin. We're gonna need gin and whatever snacks you got. Nutty, pretzelly I don't care. Snack me up," Lorelai slumped back into her seat. "And coffee,"
"There is a Starbucks as you come out of arrivals," the woman told her as the flight attended walked away giving them a mildly critical look. "And a Macdonalds. So you will be able to get a caffeine hit there. It sounds like you will need it."
xXx
Jackline and Bill Maxwell were kind enough to give her a lift from the airport to Rory's house. Bill, sleepily confused about the friend his wife had made on flight, was very efficiently employing the husband prerogative of just keeping silent as they rolled through the nearly empty streets. It was almost eleven by the time she reached Rory's house. She thanked them profusely as she shouldered her overnight bag and then made her way up the path. She only got halfway when the red door of Rory's house was thrown open and Gigi came bursting out. The thirteen year old was dressed in her school uniform, an almost copy of Rory's own school uniform just in Marroon. Lorelai caught Gigi and hugged her tightly. Five hours of having to contend with this alone had torn Gigi's nerves to shreds the teen sobbing into her shoulder. "Come on Cutie," Lorelai rubbed her shoulders and guided her to the door. She looked over the shoulder, the Maxwell's were waiting to check she got in safe and she offered them a half wave of thanks as she manoeuvred Gigi into the house. "Take you're socks off," Lorelai told her, noting that Gigi only had socks on her feet. "Have you eaten?"
"I had toast. I tried to get Mom to eat but she wouldn't. She had a bit of water. She won't move. She just looks straight though me," Gigi sniffed ominously. "Dad called. He's trying to get home."
"Where is he again?"
"Vancouver," Gigi dropped her wet socks to the ground and came back for another hug. "Should I have called 911?"
"No. You've done exactly the right thing." Lorelai cuddled her. She kissed Gigi's crown. "You did everything right. Now," she held Gigi's shoulders and leaned away slightly so she could look Gigi in the face. "I want you to go get ready for bed. I know you don't feel like sleeping but get ready for bed and get some rest."
"What about Mom?" Gigi asked softly.
"I'll look after her."
"She's upstairs in her office," Gigi pointed needlessly upstairs. She grabbed Lorelai's hand and started towards the stairs pulling her with her.
Lorelai didn't really need the extra impetus. She gained on Gigi on the stairs and rushed towards the office nearly tripping over the shoes on the floor. She swallowed back her exclamation of horror when she saw Rory. Her daughter was sat still like a statue, staring into space, clutching a black cover to her chest. Paper littered the office, obviously pulled from the cover. She stepped between the gaps in the pages, hopscotching across the office to reach Rory. She knelt down in front of her. Rory just seemed to stare right through her, staring at something invisible in the far distance. Lorelai reached forward to tease the remains of the book from Rory's arms. Rory didn't fight her. Lorelai stared at the remains for a moment. Sadness coursed through her. The hard copy of Rory's thesis. Rory had ripped the physical representation of her intelligence to pieces. "Rory?" she whispered softly, reaching to stroke Rory's cheek. "Rory? Rory it's Mom."
Rory's eyes focused on her face. Confusion crossing her thin features "Mom?"
The sound of Rory's voice was as good as oxygen. "Yes Rory it's me."