A/N Thanks to orbit, Conny and lilienprinzessin for the beta

Seeing myself this way
I am a monster I believe
And seeing is believing
Is there no doubt left
When I poison myself
And poison leaves no appetite
I sicken myself so much

Toad the Wet Sprocket – Whatever I Fear

Emily

The morning after D-Day

She turns from the doorway, and I ask slowly "Lorelai, do you love him?"

I can see tears welling up in her eyes, and she nods slowly. "More than I ever thought possible," she chokes out.

I step away from her and offer a single nod as I turn and walk back to the living room.

Richard is still sitting on the couch, staring off into space. He looks up slowly as I enter the room. He says quietly "What do you want to do about it?"

It is clear from his tone that he hopes my answer is nothing. This time, it seems, he gets what he wants.

"Nothing, Richard," I sigh. "She's made her choice."

"Emily," he begins, standing.

"Don't, Richard," I reply, waving him off. "It was a terrible choice, wasn't it? We had to choose between our daughter and our granddaughter. And we'll never get Lorelai back, because the only thing that could have brought her back was Rory."

He takes my shoulders in his hands and looks at me. I can see from the glimmer in his eyes that this is just as difficult for him as it is for me. He takes a deep breath and speaks, "Maybe we should try, nonetheless."

"Try what, Richard?" Is he honestly beginning to see just how important family really is?

"Getting Lorelai back, or the closest we'll ever come to it. She came to us. She told us," he takes my hand in both of his and brings it to his chest. "That has to mean something."

------------------

Two Days since D-day

Richard and I sit at the table, slowly finishing our dessert. Rory has already retreated to the pool house.

I begin to speak. "She loves him, you know. I think she's just realized it. Do you remember how terrifying it is to be in love when you first realize it, Richard?"

"Yes, Emily. Do you remember how wonderful it is?"

I nod as he says the words. I do remember how wonderful it is. So wonderful that she's willing to brave coming to this house to tell her daughter about her engagement. So wonderful that knowing what we think of him, she is still willing to tell us…

Suddenly an idea dawns on me. "Richard, we have to find a wedding gift for her. We have to find the perfect wedding gift."

He is taken aback for a moment. "Yes, of course. Though I'm afraid I probably won't be of much help choosing," he finishes. I can hear the confusion in his voice but I don't have the patience to deal with it now.

"Good, Richard," I half mumble as I get up from the table and head towards the basement. I have to find that box…

------------------

As I finish the note, I hesitate for a moment, debating the best way to sign it.

She came and told us right away, I remind myself as I sign the note.

As I seal the package, I feel a sense of accomplishment.

"Helena," I call out.

She appears out of nowhere. "Yes, Mrs. Gilmore?"

"Can you make sure this package is mailed first thing tomorrow morning?"

"Yes, Mrs. Gilmore," she says, retreating towards the kitchen. How horribly unnerving, the way she appears out of the blue. I suppose I should call the agency tomorrow and see about a replacement.

------------------

Three Days since D-Day

"Helena, take Mr. Huntzberger back to the pool house so he can see Miss Gilmore," I say, turning sharply and walking away.

Not good enough. Who on earth do those people think they are? Not good enough! I never! Their son is the one who is a felon! Philistines. And dragging Rory into the mess. That is just unforgivable. And smiling at me as though he is charming me with that pretty face of his. Little blond hellion.

------------------

As I sit at my desk writing thank you notes for the last DAR fundraiser, I hear a noise coming from the direction of Richard's study.

Out of the blue, he appears in the doorway, looking to and fro like a madman. He begins to wave frantically, and in an exaggerated whisper, he calls to me "Emily!"

"Richard? What on earth are you..."

"Shhh," he whispers, again in that exaggerated tone. "Come here."

I walk into his study, and he quickly closes the door.

"Richard, what are you doing home so early? We weren't expecting to see you for another hour. And why are you whispering and waving your arms like a lunatic?"

"Emily, sit down," he says sharply. "And be quiet, or Rory will hear you, for heaven's sake!"

Who does he think he is, barking orders at me? Something in his eyes, however, tells me to do as he asks.

"What is going on?" I ask.

"Logan Huntzberger came to my office this afternoon," he says in a serious tone.

"What? He was just here earlier today. What did he want?"

"He wanted to offer advice to make sure Rory goes back to school."

I stare at him blankly.

"Do you remember all the things Lorelai told us about how the Huntzbergers treated Rory? How Mitchum destroyed her confidence?"

I nod, less than thrilled with the reminder about what the Huntzbergers really think of us.

"It's all true, apparently. Every bit of it," he continues. "And Logan is convinced that his father is just trying to destroy Rory's confidence so he can destroy their relationship."

Suddenly, I'm gripped with the fear that history is repeating itself. "Richard," I warn, "don't get involved with that boy."

"What are you talking about, Emily?"

"You remember what happened with Jason and Floyd. I'm not going through anything like that again."

"Emily, the situations are completely different."

Stubborn man. I'll bet that hellion stroked Richard's ego – told him what a formidable foe he would make. "How are they different, Richard?"

"Well, first of all, no one is keeping secrets this time."

"And?"

"What do you mean, and?"

"You said first of all, which implies there is more than one reason the situations are different. I would like to know all the ways the situations are different, if you don't mind."

"Emily, stop."

"Richard, I don't want to lose her, too. I can't do it. I won't do it," I say, staring into his eyes. I see his fear as clearly as I feel my own.

"We won't. Just listen to me. I think Logan's idea is workable."

--------------------

"Persephone, please clear the dishes from dinner and bring out dessert."

After the dishes are cleared and the maid has left the room, Rory leans toward me, "Grandma, what happened to Helena?"

"Oh, she was horribly unnerving. Whenever I called for her, she would just appear out of thin air. I had the agency send over a replacement this afternoon."

Richard speaks up, "Rory, very soon you will learn that it is much easier not to try and keep up with them. Just try to catch the latest name from your grandmother periodically."

"Richard!"

------------------

After dessert has been cleared from the table, Richard turns to Rory. "We should talk about a job for you, young lady."

She looks up at him doe-eyed, and I know he wants to melt and give her everything she wants. But then he glances toward me and is reminded of our conversation about steadfastness.

He clears his throat and begins to speak. "I spoke with my contacts today, and I have four possibilities."

"Yes," she responds.

"First, you could work in my office. You would perform the duties of an intern to begin with, kind of a jack of all trades, until we could determine your strengths and find you a more permanent position. It's nice that you wouldn't have far to go"

Rory nods, "definitely nice."

"And now for the rest! Secondly, I spoke with an acquaintance at the Boston Globe and they have a position for an intern in the accounting department. The big drawback here would be that your commute would be about 2 hours each way – though you could probably catch a train which might make it more bearable. Third, and along the same lines, I spoke to a colleague at the Hartford Courant, and they could use an intern in the sales department. Finally…"

Rory's eyes widen as he mentions the first newspaper. When he mentions the second, her shoulders droop, then suddenly she pushes away from the table and stands up.

He trails off as Rory walks out of the dining room and heads toward the pool house.

He looks up at me, "It was too much, wasn't it? I've already pushed too hard."

I stand up to leave the table, "Richard, let me go talk to her. We may have a chance yet."

------------------

I walk up to the doors of the pool house and see Rory curled up on the sofa. I had expected she would be crying, but she is just staring off into space. I wonder for a moment if she has managed to teach herself the numbness that her mother and I have perfected.

I knock quietly on the door, and she raises her head. After a moment, she stands up and walks over to open the door. She silently steps to the side and ushers me inside.

"Why would he do that to me, Grandma?" she asks. I can hear the hurt in her voice. "Why would you do that to me?"

"Rory, your grandfather and I only want what is best for you. And he thought that if you had a chance to work for someone other than that terrible man, you might be able to regain some of your confidence." Of course, this isn't entirely untrue. Once Logan suggested the idea, Richard agreed.

"Grandma, I just can't do it. I don't want to do it," she takes a deep breath, rubbing her temples on both sides. "I guess I'll just work in his office. No commute that way, really." She turns to walk back to the sofa.

"Shall I tell him that, then?"

"Yes, Grandma. Tell him I'll start in the morning."

I turn to walk in the direction of the door, and Rory calls to me again.

"Grandma."

"Yes?'

"Do you know what the fourth job was?"

"Excuse me?"

"The fourth job – Grandpa said there were four jobs."

"Don't worry about it, Rory. You wouldn't have been interested anyway -- it would have been in Boston."

"I'm just curious. What was it?"

I turn to open the door, knowing I won't be able to mask my excitement if I am facing her. "Oh, nothing really. The Christian Science Monitor needs a fact checker."

I step out the door hoping that Richard's faith in Logan is founded – that a dream job will be enough to pull her back to the right path.