Disclaimer: This is an original story based upon the characters of Gilmore Girls. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit will be made from this story.
Author's Note: Thank you to all who have read and responded. I REALLY appreciate it. Your comments really help me grow as a writer. Hope you enjoy this next segment!
Somehow I feel like I am being liberated and sentenced to death and the same time. Part of me is glad the ride to Star's Hollow is thirty minutes, gives me time to think, go over in my mind what I want to say. Part of me is so nervous that I just wish I could get this over with. Why am I so nervous? Why can't I just relax? She's my daughter for Heaven's sake! Why do I feel so uptight? The Star's Hollow comes up and there is a part of me that just wants to get off and turn right around again. But I can see the lights of the town, and I pick a spot trying to focus all my energy on it. I can do this. I can do this.
I drive past the old Independence Inn and remember the night of the fire. I never told Lorelai that one of the wives of the firemen was daughter to a friend of mine. The daughter called her up, and my friend called me up to tell me that the inn was on fire. I never told Lorelai how I called her house repeatedly to see if she was alright that night, and then got so scared that she had been working a late night shift that I actually got in my car and drove—in the middle of the night to Stars Hollow. The fire was out by then, and I parked across the street and watched until I saw her. I breathed a heavy sigh of relief when I saw her—comforting the guests, giving orders. I was in awe at how calm and collected she was. I was so proud.
This inn does not hold happy memories for me—for it will always be the place she chose over her own home. It will always serve as a reminder to me of what Rory's early memories of us consist of—awkward visits in the hotel lobby. It will always serve as a reminder of my failure.
My nervousness grows as I turn down the street to her house. What do I say? What if she slams the door in my face? I pull into her driveway and breathe deeply. There is another car in the driveway—it's not Rory's, and it's not Luke's truck, I wonder whose it is. "Okay, breathe just breathe," I say to myself. I take another deep breath trying to steady myself before I go in.
"Mommy? Mommy are you having a heartache?" Lorelai's voice turned me away from the mirror. She was standing at the door, wearing the plastic stethoscope from the doctor's kit Richard had bought home from her on his last trip.
"What?" I asked.
"Are you having a heartache? You was breathing really funny…" She paused and adopted the most professional look she could muster, "That's one of the signs you know," she says, waving her index finger at me. I am trying so hard to not burst out laughing.
"You "were" breathing funny Sweetheart, not you "was"" I correct her.
"No Mommy, I wasn't breathing funny, you was," she replies.
I shake my head,
"Do you want me to zamin you?" she asked. I quickly checked the clock on the wall. Fifteen minutes before Richard would start nagging me about leaving—I had a few minutes.
"Okay…you zamin me," I replied. She rolled up her sleeves and picked up the little doctors bag that lay at her feet.
"First I have to listen to your heart," she says, and puts the stethoscope over the opposite side of my chest.
"Hmm…" she says. I try to look worried,
"What does that mean?" I ask. She shakes her head gravely.
"It doesn't look good," she says shaking her head. I place my hand over my heart.
"Oh no, what do I do Dr. Gilmore?" I ask. Her darling four year old hand reaches out and pats mind.
"I have just the thing," she says. She reaches into her bag and pulls out an orange tootsie roll pop. She opens my hand and places the tootsie roll pop in it.
"You take that and call me in the morning," she says. My fingers close around the tootsie roll pop—if only life was this easy!
"Thank you very much Dr. Gilmore," I say as she walks from the room. I turn back and face the mirror. Richard's mother is in town and wants us to go out to dinner with her. Everything in the mirror looks wrong—I am not good enough. I am not good enough to be a Gilmore, to be married to Richard, or to be the mother of his child. My hands start to shake again. I pick up my powder and it slides right out of my hand.
"Mommy?" Lorelai calls. I didn't realize she is still in the room.
"Yes Sweetie?"
"Are you still having a heartache?" she asks. I turn to look at her. She is looking at me with apprehension—as if she doesn't know what to do.
"I'm fine," I say to her, putting on a smile. "I'm just fine." She looks at me incredulously for a moment, then puts one hand on her hip and waves the index finger at me again.
"You never lie to the doctor young lady!" she says and the next thing I know, she is running to me, climbing up on my lap, kissing my cheek and throwing her arms around me. I cling to her—this little person who I never have to impress, never have to pretend with. I rock her in my arms for a few minutes and then she breaks free. She looks me in the eyes.
"Did I make your heartache go away?" she asks.
"Yes Baby…you made my heartache go away," I reply.
"That's good!" she says then bounces off my lap and runs out of the room.
"I'll send you my bill!" she calls.
I almost turned back five times on the way up to the door. "Ring the bell—just ring it Emily," I say to myself. I ring it—there is no turning back now. "Please…please," I pray as I hear footsteps coming to the door. She opens it and tries to mask her surprise really quick.
"What are you doing here?" she asks. I try to steady myself.
"Can I talk to you?" I ask pensively. She seems to be staring me down and then very looking very reluctant she says, "Alright."
She opens the door for me to come in. I can hear a movie going in the background and see a very pregnant Sookie on the couch.
"Emily!" Sookie says, "How are you?" I smile at her, "I'm fine Sookie, how are you? When are you due?" Sookie is about ready to answer when Lorelai steps in.
"She's due in a few weeks Mom," she answers then turns to Sookie, "Hey, can you give us a minute, this won't take long."
Sookie nods and heads out of the room.
"What do you want?" she asks impatiently. I find myself getting a little annoyed. Couldn't she just listen for a moment.
"I just wanted to talk." I replied. She shrugs, "So, talk I've got things to do."
I start to say it—the words are right there, but she isn't paying attention to me. How can I tell her what I came to say if she isn't willing to really listen? My annoyance is growing. What am I doing here? This is futile. She won't listen to me.
"Do you think," I begin, "That you could even pretend to care about what I have to say? Could you just listen?"
"Mom, Sookie and I are in a middle of a movie, if there is something you want to say to me say it," she replies.
Now I am getting angry,
"Lorelai, if I was Rory, or Luke, or Sookie or Michel, If I was your father for goodness sakes, and they said they wanted to talk to you…would you just brush them off like this? What is it with me? Why can't you just listen to me?"
She shakes her head, "You are being ridiculous. Why don't you say what you came to say and get it over with?"
Alright—two can play at the stubborn game.
"No—I want you to sit down and treat me with some respect. I want you to listen to what I have to say. Even if you have no respect for me as your mother, give me the respect you would give a fellow human being. I have something important to tell you."
She turns to me, and exaggeratedly says, "Which is?"
She's here, she's right here and I can say it to her—I can tell her what is in my heart and let her decide what to do with it. But it seems like I'm the only one trying here. I look at her, searching her eyes.
"Lorelai, do you want us to be okay? Do you want us to have any semblance of a relationship? Do you even care? It feels like I'm the only one who does here. It feels like I'm the only one that puts any effort into this relationship."
She shakes her head, "You have got to be kidding me!" she says. "You are the one that tries in this relationship? What about me? I feel like that is all I've done all my life is try to have a relationship with you. I'm the only one that tries here!" she says.
"Oh yeah…getting pregnant, running away from home, yeah, I must have missed the memo on how that was supposed to build our relationship!" I retort.
She brings her hands to her face and shakes her head, "That was twenty years ago Mother! I've been trying! Ever since Rory started Chilton, I've been trying!"
"When? When have you tried?" I asked. She started listing off examples, "the trip to the spa, Friday night dinners even when I didn't want to, your bachelorette party!"
"You're not seriously going to put my bachelorette party on your list of daughterly good deeds are you?" I retorted. "Do you think I'm that stupid? I came over here that night because I wanted to spend time with you and Rory. I wanted to calm my nerves and have a girl's night. You treated me like an inconvenience from the moment I walked in the door, and don't you think I know your father called? So, you get me so drunk I can't see straight, and call a bunch of women out of bed who could care less about me, and call that one of your shining daughter moments?"
"You know what…I'm not in the mood for this right now," she says, "You know what your problem is? You don't care about anybody that doesn't fit into your description of how someone should be. You'll care about someone as long as they walk and talk and do exactly what you want them to and if they don't, you drop them."
It's then that it hits me…she's right. That's the way I treated her when she started growing up and away from me. There was something else that she doesn't get though—the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. I start walking towards the door, I turn around to look at her,
"You're right Lorelai, you're exactly right…and do you know what else?" I spread my arms out and in a sweeping gesture point to myself.
"Look at yourself in the mirror my girl," I say and then I walk out the door. I get in the car and make it half way down the next block before I pull over to the side, putting my head on the steering wheel and burst into tears.
I think I'm having a heartache.
Author's Note: More is coming soon—things will get better!