G.G
By Lizabeth
Chapter Two
A/N: I wrote this starting at 3:47 and ending at 4:50 the afternoon before "Dear Richard and Emily" aired. I have not read spoilers for the famed "Rory's Arrival" flashback, but I did read a summary and know it's about Sherry. Other than that, this is a figment of my imagination for my little G.G story.
I'm juggling G.G and "To Catch A Fish". This story is probably going to be a first in an invasion of G.G stories on FF.net. I can only hope the others don't make this one look so bad.
The hospital room had only three women in it. The midwife (who was a man) had left the room for a few minutes. The three women were not very comfortable. One of them was about to go through the most pain she would ever experience in her life. Another was lost in a sea of memory, and tears were blurring her vision. The last woman (who was the youngest) was trying to pull things together.
The first women was in labor, the one who's hair was matted to her face, and who's pretty blue eyes were opened as wide as her mouth, which was screaming out language that her child should not have heard. It's first word was actually going to be one of the twenty-first century material girl obscenities that had poured from the dry tongue of the mother and pinched her small ear.
The second woman had already gone through the pain which God had designated woman to bear for life. The second woman (who was the oldest) had never doubted for a second after her suffering that God was a man. She was remembering now the pain, and she almost felt sorry for the woman in the bed, and the least that could be said was that she felt companionship – the feeling on kinship that all women feel when they realize that they were not alone in their agony. She was thinking back to the events that surrounded her labor, and was envying the screaming woman because she had not felt half the pain that the one who was already a mother had. The second woman had endured this pain when she was exactly sixteen years younger than the woman in the bed.
The third woman (who was not yet a woman) felt sick. She was in shock and horror. Childbirth, she was discovering, despite it's inevitability, and the reassurance that it was all worth it in the end, was not a beautiful thing. She had made up her mind then to avoid it at all costs. However, she let her hand be held and squeezed, and she tried to keep calm to bring her mother (who was the second woman) out of her trance. She was watching her sister's birth. Her half sister, who was going to be the one her father was there for. She hated and pitied the thing that she prayed should be not have to look at, quite yet.
"Rory, where's Chris?" the first woman gasped. She was referring to the father of her child, and the father of the one she addressed.
"We haven't reached him yet."
"Get him here, please Rory, just get him here."
"We're trying, Sherry."
"I'm never going to forgive that man," Sherry (who was the first woman) cried out, "I carried this goddamn baby around for nine months and he doesn't even has the courtesy to BE here! For Christ's sakes, I'm giving birth!"
Rory (who was the third woman) glanced anxiously at her mother, who had heard that. She was crying now. Rory felt that she might cry, too. She had always disliked Sherry. Sherry was the reason her parents weren't together. And now Sherry couldn't stop hurting her. And her mother.
"Sherry, he's going to be here."
"Watch him, he's not!"
"Some men," Rory stressed each syllable carefully, "aren't there for the baby… at all."
A look of realization dawned across the woman's strained (but still pretty) features, "oh Rory, hon, I'm so sorry. G.G's been making me a bit inconsiderate, I'm afraid."
"It's okay."
"No, no, come here," Rory reluctantly bet her head down to hug the woman for a short moment.
"When is the doctor going to be back?" Sherry whined, reverting back into her bashing of males related to children, "men are pigs."
"I'll go get him."
"Thanks Rory."
"Or… do you want me to stay?"
"No, it's okay. Your mom can keep me company."
Lorelai (Rory's mother) was staring blankly at the wall. She had lost herself from the world again.
Rory left, though. Her mother was a good person. She would never let Sherry be alone, as much as she despised that woman.
She found the doctor outside the room, looking over a clipboard.
"Hello, sir?"
He looked up, startled, "yes?"
"A woman is, um, giving birth in there."
"I realize this."
"Well, shouldn't you be in there?"
"I thought you might like some time alone."
"Oh…" Rory forced a laugh, "very bad assumption to make. Time alone should most definitely be avoided. We do not want time alone."
"Then I'll go back in," he opened the door. Rory watched it swing shut behind him and walked down the hall.
Her mother said that there were three things that you never forgot – birth, death, and a bad movie.
Her memory of this was not a good one. She was furious at her father. He had refused to be there for her, and he had abandoned her and broken his promise to be there for another baby. And now her wasn't even there for poor G.G?
She found a phone on the wall. A quarter was lingering in her hand, and she dropped it in, dialing again the number, almost positive it would be in vain.
A crackle of breath came from the other end, "Christopher Hayden speaking."
"Dad!" she cried out, relieved and somehow disappointed. A small part of this girl was always going to hate her half sister.
"Rory! What's up?"
"Well I-"
"Hold on a sec. I'm taking a five minute coffee break from a meeting. Can you make it short?"
"No. Something extremely important and life altering is taking place."
"Are you okay?" a note of worry came in his voice. She liked hearing him worried. It made her feel safe, for some reason. Only real Dad's could be worried about their daughters.
"I'm fine. Sherry's having the baby."
No response.
"Dad?"
"I'll be over there as soon as possible. St. Paul's hospital, right?"
"Yeah."
"Okay. Take care of Sherry until I get there. I'm counting on you, my dependable offspring."
"Consider it done."
She was about to hang up. Then she heard him again,
"Hey Rory?"
"Yes?"
"Is your mom there?"
"Yes."
"Take care of her, too."
"Okay."
She hung up and made her way back to the room.
"That was an experience, huh, babe?"
Rory buried her head in her mother's shoulder, "I don't see how I can ever look that woman in the eye again."
"You'll do it, don't worry. You know, in France, when a queen gave birth, the entire country was invited to come watch."
"Ew."
"Makes you glad I birthed you into a penniless nineties future, huh?"
"I will never be able to thank you enough."
The mother and daughter were silent. The rest of the train was sleeping. It was dark, but they could still make out the shadows of clouds in the midnight sky.
"Hey mom?"
"Hm?"
"Do you ever wish you hadn't gotten pregnant? Or that you'd gone ahead and married Dad?"
"What made you think of that?"
"I don't know."
"The honest answer…"
Rory looked out the window.
"… is no."
"Really?"
"Of course. Sherry gets Christopher, but babe, I got you. And any change of plans would've ended me up with someone else."
"I'm a terrible person."
"Why?"
"I'm jealous of my half sister because she has my dad."
"And one of the most awesome older sisters ever."
Rory let out a small laugh and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.
"And, don't forget, the coolest fathers-old-girlfriend-and-mother-of-half-sister ever to grace this earth."
She laughed again.
"Rory?"
"Mm-hm?"
"It's going to be okay."
Lorelai reached out her arm and pulled her daughter into a hug. Lorelai rested her head on her daughter's post-hospital hair while the younger girl cried softly into her shirt.
By Lizabeth
Chapter Two
A/N: I wrote this starting at 3:47 and ending at 4:50 the afternoon before "Dear Richard and Emily" aired. I have not read spoilers for the famed "Rory's Arrival" flashback, but I did read a summary and know it's about Sherry. Other than that, this is a figment of my imagination for my little G.G story.
I'm juggling G.G and "To Catch A Fish". This story is probably going to be a first in an invasion of G.G stories on FF.net. I can only hope the others don't make this one look so bad.
The hospital room had only three women in it. The midwife (who was a man) had left the room for a few minutes. The three women were not very comfortable. One of them was about to go through the most pain she would ever experience in her life. Another was lost in a sea of memory, and tears were blurring her vision. The last woman (who was the youngest) was trying to pull things together.
The first women was in labor, the one who's hair was matted to her face, and who's pretty blue eyes were opened as wide as her mouth, which was screaming out language that her child should not have heard. It's first word was actually going to be one of the twenty-first century material girl obscenities that had poured from the dry tongue of the mother and pinched her small ear.
The second woman had already gone through the pain which God had designated woman to bear for life. The second woman (who was the oldest) had never doubted for a second after her suffering that God was a man. She was remembering now the pain, and she almost felt sorry for the woman in the bed, and the least that could be said was that she felt companionship – the feeling on kinship that all women feel when they realize that they were not alone in their agony. She was thinking back to the events that surrounded her labor, and was envying the screaming woman because she had not felt half the pain that the one who was already a mother had. The second woman had endured this pain when she was exactly sixteen years younger than the woman in the bed.
The third woman (who was not yet a woman) felt sick. She was in shock and horror. Childbirth, she was discovering, despite it's inevitability, and the reassurance that it was all worth it in the end, was not a beautiful thing. She had made up her mind then to avoid it at all costs. However, she let her hand be held and squeezed, and she tried to keep calm to bring her mother (who was the second woman) out of her trance. She was watching her sister's birth. Her half sister, who was going to be the one her father was there for. She hated and pitied the thing that she prayed should be not have to look at, quite yet.
"Rory, where's Chris?" the first woman gasped. She was referring to the father of her child, and the father of the one she addressed.
"We haven't reached him yet."
"Get him here, please Rory, just get him here."
"We're trying, Sherry."
"I'm never going to forgive that man," Sherry (who was the first woman) cried out, "I carried this goddamn baby around for nine months and he doesn't even has the courtesy to BE here! For Christ's sakes, I'm giving birth!"
Rory (who was the third woman) glanced anxiously at her mother, who had heard that. She was crying now. Rory felt that she might cry, too. She had always disliked Sherry. Sherry was the reason her parents weren't together. And now Sherry couldn't stop hurting her. And her mother.
"Sherry, he's going to be here."
"Watch him, he's not!"
"Some men," Rory stressed each syllable carefully, "aren't there for the baby… at all."
A look of realization dawned across the woman's strained (but still pretty) features, "oh Rory, hon, I'm so sorry. G.G's been making me a bit inconsiderate, I'm afraid."
"It's okay."
"No, no, come here," Rory reluctantly bet her head down to hug the woman for a short moment.
"When is the doctor going to be back?" Sherry whined, reverting back into her bashing of males related to children, "men are pigs."
"I'll go get him."
"Thanks Rory."
"Or… do you want me to stay?"
"No, it's okay. Your mom can keep me company."
Lorelai (Rory's mother) was staring blankly at the wall. She had lost herself from the world again.
Rory left, though. Her mother was a good person. She would never let Sherry be alone, as much as she despised that woman.
She found the doctor outside the room, looking over a clipboard.
"Hello, sir?"
He looked up, startled, "yes?"
"A woman is, um, giving birth in there."
"I realize this."
"Well, shouldn't you be in there?"
"I thought you might like some time alone."
"Oh…" Rory forced a laugh, "very bad assumption to make. Time alone should most definitely be avoided. We do not want time alone."
"Then I'll go back in," he opened the door. Rory watched it swing shut behind him and walked down the hall.
Her mother said that there were three things that you never forgot – birth, death, and a bad movie.
Her memory of this was not a good one. She was furious at her father. He had refused to be there for her, and he had abandoned her and broken his promise to be there for another baby. And now her wasn't even there for poor G.G?
She found a phone on the wall. A quarter was lingering in her hand, and she dropped it in, dialing again the number, almost positive it would be in vain.
A crackle of breath came from the other end, "Christopher Hayden speaking."
"Dad!" she cried out, relieved and somehow disappointed. A small part of this girl was always going to hate her half sister.
"Rory! What's up?"
"Well I-"
"Hold on a sec. I'm taking a five minute coffee break from a meeting. Can you make it short?"
"No. Something extremely important and life altering is taking place."
"Are you okay?" a note of worry came in his voice. She liked hearing him worried. It made her feel safe, for some reason. Only real Dad's could be worried about their daughters.
"I'm fine. Sherry's having the baby."
No response.
"Dad?"
"I'll be over there as soon as possible. St. Paul's hospital, right?"
"Yeah."
"Okay. Take care of Sherry until I get there. I'm counting on you, my dependable offspring."
"Consider it done."
She was about to hang up. Then she heard him again,
"Hey Rory?"
"Yes?"
"Is your mom there?"
"Yes."
"Take care of her, too."
"Okay."
She hung up and made her way back to the room.
"That was an experience, huh, babe?"
Rory buried her head in her mother's shoulder, "I don't see how I can ever look that woman in the eye again."
"You'll do it, don't worry. You know, in France, when a queen gave birth, the entire country was invited to come watch."
"Ew."
"Makes you glad I birthed you into a penniless nineties future, huh?"
"I will never be able to thank you enough."
The mother and daughter were silent. The rest of the train was sleeping. It was dark, but they could still make out the shadows of clouds in the midnight sky.
"Hey mom?"
"Hm?"
"Do you ever wish you hadn't gotten pregnant? Or that you'd gone ahead and married Dad?"
"What made you think of that?"
"I don't know."
"The honest answer…"
Rory looked out the window.
"… is no."
"Really?"
"Of course. Sherry gets Christopher, but babe, I got you. And any change of plans would've ended me up with someone else."
"I'm a terrible person."
"Why?"
"I'm jealous of my half sister because she has my dad."
"And one of the most awesome older sisters ever."
Rory let out a small laugh and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.
"And, don't forget, the coolest fathers-old-girlfriend-and-mother-of-half-sister ever to grace this earth."
She laughed again.
"Rory?"
"Mm-hm?"
"It's going to be okay."
Lorelai reached out her arm and pulled her daughter into a hug. Lorelai rested her head on her daughter's post-hospital hair while the younger girl cried softly into her shirt.