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I stand there in the driveway—not sure of why, I don't expect her to come back. I just stand there—shivering until finally I turn around and walk inside. I walk into the dining room where Richard, Rory, and Missie are uncomfortably finishing their dinner.

I put on a smile and walk into the room.

"Well, let's bring out dessert," I say nodding to the maids. Nobody says anything. We eat the rest of the meal in silence. Rory is up from the table as soon as she's done and bids us goodnight. I try to catch her eyes, to get some sense that she isn't furious with me again. I can tell she's upset, but she still gives me a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving.

"Goodnight Rory!" I call after her. I give a Richard a little look with my eyes to tell him to follow Rory and see if she's really okay. He catches the look and leaves. There are a few moments of awkward silence between Missie and I.

"Emily...?" she begins after a moment. "Are you okay?" I turn to look at her, and start to give my usual response of, "Oh yes, I'm just fine," but she looks so sincere, so open to hear my feelings. I shake my head.

"No...no I'm not," I reply. "You can probably guess my daughter and I don't get along very well." She sighed,

"I know what that feels like, my mother and I never saw eye to eye on anything. I feel like I've tried most of my life to please her."

"Is that the only reason why you married Charles?" I asked, worried I was asking a too personal question. She nodded,

"Yes, I wasn't in love with him. I wanted to make my parents happy and pleased with me and I figured this would be the way to do it," she paused for a moment as if considering something. "Charlie did have something to offer me though. I have always loved pretty things—ever since I was a little girl. I always wanted the fancy china dolls with the lacy dresses and accessories too extravagant for a normal little girl let alone a doll. I love the ballet and the opera, the symphony. I love class and elegance. That was the appeal I saw in Charles' money. A chance to have the things I loved and have them away from parents. I never loved Charles, but he was a good man and he always took care of me."

I sensed there was more she wanted to tell me, more she needed to tell me and selfishly it was nice to have the focus on her problems and not my own. She looked over at me, and started to tear up.

"Shortly after Charles died, a woman came over to the house to offer her condolences. I didn't know who she was. I assumed she was an acquaintance with Charles. She told me she wanted to be my friend. We started to do things together, go out to lunch and stuff like that. I was so excited. I wanted a buddy so badly. I started opening up to her, telling her things that I told you and she was always very sympathetic. Then one day I called her and there was no answer. I kept calling and calling and then I called her landlady and she said she had left. The next week it was all over the sensationalist papers—"The Bates Black Widow." I read the column and saw direct quotes that I had told my friend. I tried to find her, I thought she was a reporter and so I tried to find out who she worked for, but nobody had heard of her. She probably changed her name or was an informant or something—but I never saw her again."

I feel sick, "That's terrible!" I breathe.

She smiles, "Yeah—it was hard. I was very embarrassed and wanted to tuck my head between my legs and run home. But my mom wouldn't hear of it. She wouldn't let me come," She pauses for a moment, as if gathering her thoughts.

"You know something though, in a way the press helped me to realize how selfish I was when I married Charles. I was still a little girl wanting my toys and he gave them to me. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I would be a widow after being married for seven years. I never dreamed I would be in charge of an estate. Now I just want to do some good with my money. I want to do good for the world."

I put a hand over hers and give it a squeeze. "That is a noble goal," I say smiling. She smiles back and gives me a hug.

"Emily...I don't want to pry, but I noticed Lorelai seemed upset tonight. I hope that didn't have anything to do with me,"

"No dear, it was me. This used to be our Family night. Lorelai and Rory would come over every Friday night and have dinner. Lorelai doesn't come any more. She barely even speaks to me. She came tonight and..."

"...thought she'd been replaced?" Missie finished.

I nodded.

"Oh...I'm sorry," she whispered. I put my arm around her.

"There is nothing for you to be sorry about—nothing at all." I reply. She seems to feel a little better and stands up.

"I better go," she says. I walk with her to the door. She turns around and gives me a hug.

"Emily...I'm sorry about Lorelai. But I want you to know how much I appreciate you. I could never talk to my mom like this. It means so much to me. I don't want to upset Lorelai, but I hope we can still be friends," she says. She looks so vulnerable, so lonely and my heart just goes out to her.

"Of course we can," I say, hugging her to me. She smiles and walks out the door and I find myself standing there waving goodbye until her car is out of site.

I walk back inside and slowly upstairs. I don't know what happened to Richard, if he was off talking to Rory somewhere or in his study working. I'm tired. I want to go to bed. I lay down on the bed, both Lorelai and Missie's conversations running through my mind and weighing on my heart. One I have known for a month, who shares secrets with me, and wants my friendship—needs my friendship, the other I gave birth too and have loved since the moment she was placed in my arms, the one who doesn't want anything to do with me. A deep sadness settles over me, and I have to ask myself, how can I mean so much to another woman's child—but fail with my own?

A realization hits me—this time I am Mia. I am Missie's Mia.

"Emily, Emily it's noon. Please get up," Richard's voice resounded somewhere in the back of my head. A painful sensation hit my eyes as he opened the curtains. "Come on Honey," he said, "Let's get out of bed and get some breakfast."

"No," I whisper, my tears resurfacing. I grab for some more tissues by the bed. Richard came and sat down next to me.

"Honey...you can't let this destroy you, life has to go on,"

I give a little sob, "Richard, my baby's gone. She's gone. We don't even know where she is. She could be on the other side of the country by now. She hasn't even called..." sobs take over me once again, "Why hasn't she called?" He lays down and takes me in his arms, stroking my hair away from my forehead. I cling to him, as if he is the last thing I have that is keeping me from the dark abyss that hangs over me.

"She'll be okay," he said, in a shaky voice. "She's a smart girl, and she knows how to take care of herself. She's a hard worker and she knows how to do what she needs to do. She'll call Honey. I know she will." He kissed me, and I laid back down on the bed. I was afraid to sleep—afraid the dream would come, but I longed for sleep as well. Eventually it over took me and in between one of the moments of sleep and awake, I heard Richard talking outside of the room—but to who? ...it was Dr. Reynolds

"Joshua, I don't know what to do. She won't get out of bed. It's been a week and we still haven't heard from Lorelai. We don't know where she is. I just...I can't..." Richard's voice grew thick with emotion. "What do I do Joshua?" he asked. There was a long pause.

"Richard, you were not there when Lorelai came into the world. I placed that baby in Emily's arms and watched Lorelai's first few minutes of life. I saw the connection the two of them had. Now, I know it hasn't been perfect, and the two of them have fought practically from that first day. But no matter what—that connection is still there. They can't run away from it, they can't break it. They need each other. Emily needs Lorelai and one day in time, Lorelai will know how much she needs Emily. You want to know how to help your wife?—find your daughter. Even if she won't come home—find her. Emily needs to hear her voice, to hear she is okay."

I drifted back to sleep, and the dream relinquished its hold on me. It was the first real sleep I'd had in a week. It was such a deep sleep that I was not sure whether the phone ringing was in my dreams or really real. It took me a few minutes to realize it was really ringing. I woke up with a start and grabbed the phone next to the bed,

"Lorelai?" I cried. There was a long pause. "Lorelai...please talk to me," I pleaded with her. Another long pause, "Please...Lorelai...please tell me where you are." I pleaded again, trying to control my emotions.

"...Hello?" a woman's voice came on the other end of the phone. My heart sank. It wasn't her. I almost just hung up the phone, but I answered back.

"Hello," I answered back.

"Is this Emily?" the voice asked.

"Yes, this is Emily Gilmore," I replied. There was another pause.

"Emily, my name is Amelia Moore. My friends call me Mia. I run the Independence Inn in Stars Hollow—about thirty minutes from you."

I am growing impatient—if this is a solicitation!

"I just wanted you to know that your daughter is here."

My heart jumped into my throat and my tears starting overflowing again. She was thirty minutes away!

"What?" I cried, "Is she okay? Is the baby okay?"

"Yes, she is fine and the baby is fine. I offered Lorelai a job." the woman had an incredibly calming voice.

"Please...let me talk to her" I pleaded.

"She doesn't want to talk to you yet. She just wanted me to call you and tell you she was safe."

"Please...just put her on the phone. I want to talk to her," I asked again. There was a brief pause and finally I heard her voice.

"Hello Mother," she said, "I don't want to talk right now." she said. I started to say it, started to say that she was the most important thing in the world to me and that I loved her more than anything and that if she came home I would be whatever she wanted—be the kind of mother she had wanted and needed. I wanted to tell her that I would do whatever it took. But the words wouldn't come.

'Lorelai—come home." I whispered hoarsely. There was a long pause.

"I can't Mom. That is not my home anymore. I need to be on my own. Rory and I need to be on our own."

"Lorelai...please..." I pleaded but it was the woman's voice that answered.

"Emily, I know how hard this must be for you. Trust me, I will take care of her and watch out for her. I'll take care of both of them."

"But..." I began. She cut me off.

"I promise—I'll take care of them and I will encourage her to call." The next thing I knew I was listening to a dial tone. I dropped the receiver on the ground and started sobbing. Richard came running into the room.

"What...what is it?" he asked anxiously. I covered my face with my hands.

"She's okay" I cried out. "She's okay."

He took me in his arms and rocked me back and forth—the only sound in the room being the off the hook warning beep from the receiver on the floor