"Do you still feel comfortable with me, Emily?"

Emily rolled her eyes. "What kind of question is that? I'm here, aren't I? The money you take from me is still good, isn't it?"

"Emily," Esther began.

"I've sat through so many of Lorelai's little performances that I should have my own private box. What's one more public one? It hardly matters. I'm going to be dead soon anyway. Lorelai will put me in the finest pop can and toss my ashes in the filthiest toilet she can find. Probably somewhere in New York."

"Performance? You think that Lorelai acted like that because I was here?" Esther asked.

Emily shrugged. "Who knows. It wouldn't be the first time she's tried to make a scene in public. Only now my therapy points are all gone."

Esther rubbed her forehead and sighed. "We discussed this. There are no points in therapy."

"That sounds like something someone with no therapy points would say."

"Have you and Lorelai talked at all since your last joint session?" Esther asked.

"Yes."

"And?"

"And what? You've had three sessions with her since then, she's had to have told you by now."

"We're not talking about that, right now. What did you and Lorelai talk about?"

Emily rolled her eyes again. "Fine. I went over there a few days after her little episode to try and clear the air. Instead, she went on a ridiculous rant full of nonsense to try and make me feel guilty as if I didn't feel bad enough."

"What did you have to feel bad about?"

"My entire life. You sat there and watched her tell me that every choice I made trying to raise her the best I could, was absolute torture. How was I supposed to feel after hearing that? Happy? Everything I did raising Lorelai meant nothing." Emily crossed her arms. "I was worthless."

"You're not worthless because you made a...few parenting mistakes. There is more to you than that."

Emily smirked as Esther fumbled for a way to describe what she had done. Typical.

"No, there is more to you than that. There is more to Lorelai than that. All I've ever been is a mother. I was raised to be a mother. That's all I was allowed to want to be. I threw little parties and joined clubs and went to college, but my greatest accomplishment was supposed to be my family. Some accomplishment that was."

"Emily, you're being very hard on yourself."

"Why shouldn't I? Lorelai described our relationship as one between a dog and it's master. That I've been kicking her all her life and she would come crawling back, no matter what. She then asked me when I was going to give her the Old Yeller treatment."

"That's creative," Esther said as she leaned back in her chair.

"She always is, isn't she."

"What Lorelai said about you not liking her, was she telling the truth?"

Emily stared down at her hands. "Yes. If," she sighed and rubbed her eyes. "If Lorelai wasn't my daughter, I would have felt sorry for the parents who had to deal with her."

"What's not to like about Lorelai?" Esther asked.

Emily clenched her fists.

"I'm not asking that to shame you. Only to help figure out where to start when it comes to repairing your relationship with Lorelai. Isn't that what you want?"

"Fine," Emily said. "Her name?"

Emily barrelled on at the confused look on Esther's face. "I didn't name her. My mother-in-law in her infinite wisdom decided to name Lorelai after herself. Almost all of the frustrations of my marriage were the result of that woman. By the time the drugs had worn off, Richard and his mother had already signed the birth certificate." Emily twisted her lips in anger. "She told me I could name the next one if I felt like it."

"What else?"

"Her lip," Emily replied, bouncing out of her seat, "She has to comment on every little thing, no matter the situation. She's incredibly pig-headed, as well. Even if her way is completely wrong if it's not done her way it might as well be a crime against nature."

Esther's eyes followed Emily as she walked circles around the couch. "She never tells me anything. It's like pulling blood from a stone with that girl. If I want to know anything about her life, I have to ask everyone but her. Frankly, I know more about my driver than I know about Lorelai."

Crossing her legs, Esther shrugged. "I can't see how any of those things could make you dislike Lorelai."

"You can't be serious. You see the way she talks to me, the way she behaves!"

"I see the way she behaves in this office. All those things you hate about her are things that I find incredible about her." She held up her hand to stop Emily's protests. "I understand that Lorelai's birth was traumatizing and nothing can change that but, nothing is stopping from learning to like your daughter. You say she runs off at the mouth but maybe it means she's smart and can keep up with a conversation. What you call pig-headed, you can think of tenacious. Lorelai wouldn't be the owner of her own business without sticking to her guns. You can admire that, Emily."

"Well," Emily said as she put her hands on her hips, "Isn't that nice, doctor. You spend five minutes with the great Lorelai Gilmore and you've taken her side. It's no surprise that I'm the big bad wolf, yet again."

"That's not what I'm doing, Emily."

"Oh please, that's exactly what you're doing. I'm the problem. Emily Gilmore is always the problem."

"Then stop making yourself the problem Emily," Esther said with a frown. "If you want to take this conversation as me choosing sides, then fine. But Lorelai has been trying for a long time to connect with you. Why can't you give her the same courtesy?"

Courtesy.

The word was comical. It was not something Emily had ever received, no matter how much she wanted it. Had Emily Gilmore begged for courtesy in her darkest moments? No. She moved on and up. There was nowhere to go but. She would have to stop seeing Esther now that she was firmly in camp Lorelai. Emily wondered what Lorelai had done to try to connect with her. She couldn't recall one thing off the top of her head. Anything that she did recall, she wouldn't consider it a courtesy.

Perched on the settee in her living room, Emily flipped through a magazine and waited for dinner to be served. A high pitched jangled startled the magazine out of her hands and took about ten years off of her life.

"What the hell is that?"

"You're phone, ma'am," a maid said, materializing out of nowhere with the phone in hand.

"Hello?" Emily croaked.

"Grandma," Rory said, "Are you okay? You sound weird."

Emily cleared her throat. "Oh, I'm fine Rory. I was reading a vulgar novel that one of the ladies at the DAR recommended. It upset me. Nothing to worry about. How are you? It feels like I haven't heard from you in decades."

"I'm great. I'm better than great, actually. I have some big news to tell you."

"You're engaged?"

"What? No."

"Don't tell me you're pregnant."

"Gross, no!

"Well, I'm at a loss. What could be bigger than that?"

"I got a new job. I'm an editor at a pharmaceutical advertising agency."

Emily rolled her eyes. That was the big news that got her blood pressure up? A job? A nudged at her teeth before Emily pressed her lips shut.

Courtesy.

Wasn't that what Rory was doing to her? Having the courtesy to tell her about something that made her happy? Emily wasn't a child and was raised well. If she received courtesy, she could give it.

"That's wonderful Rory. My, you sound excited! When do you start?"

"Already did. It's a great job, grandma. I have crazy good benefits and get this, they a 24/7 snack cabinet for all the employees."

"So I assume you'll be rolling into Stars Hollow come the holidays?" Emily replied.

There had been no reason for Emily to say that. They had been having a nice conversation and she was going to ruin it with her stupid mouth. Instead, Rory laughed.

"No kidding! I like it there so much that I've decided to stop looking for another writing job."

"No more writing? But Rory, being a journalist was your dream."

"I was but, I couldn't keep up. Even if I hadn't burned my bridges at the Wall Street Journal, the work would've driven me crazy in no time."

"This is so sudden. What did your mother say about this?"

"Don't know. You're the first person I've told. Besides my therapist."

All three generations of Gilmores being in therapy wasn't the most shocking part of their conversation in Emily's eyes. Rory had told her something before she had told Lorelai. Emily almost called her maids so she could tell them to be on the lookout for any airborne swine.

"I'm touched that I'm the first person to know about your career change."

"You deserve it." Rory took a breath, "I never apologized for those horrible things I said to you. It was so fucked up."

"Language, Rory," Emily couldn't help but chide.

Rory giggled. "Sorry. But I'm serious. I never should've said something like that to you. Grandpa would've have done anything to stay with you. He loved you so much."

"He loved you just as much Rory," Emily replied, her eyes wet with tears.

"Plus, you were right about the whole thing. I was acting like a brat. I shouldn't have made you worry about me like that. You should be hiring a bunch of topless men to carry you down the stairs of your beach cabana."

"Honestly Rory, I will always worry about you. That's a grandmother's job. It what it means to be a Gilmore. Let me transfer you the money Trix left you so we can settle this nasty business, once and for all."

"You don't have to do that, my salary is–"

"Don't argue with me about this. It's your money and I had no right to keep it from you in the first place. Have you changed banks?"

"No."

"Good, I'll have it wired over in the morning when I can get ahold of my accountant. Now! How are things in New York? Seeing anyone new?"

"Nope. Nobody new."