It was an age-old question. The mother looked at her child, sick with a fever, so serious, tucked under the covers. "Well, my child, people sometimes die in accidents," she began, "Or they get sick."
"Like me? Am I going to die?"
"No, sweetie, no. You are not going to die until you are really really old."
"But it hurts, Mommy."
"I know, sweetie, I know."
The child's eyes were still wide, as if not believing the mother's words.
She looked at her child, and added, "You'll feel better soon." She placed a kiss on her child's forehead. "You know that I love you and would never lie to you, don't you?"
The child still wondered. "But Mommy, why do people have to die?"
"Because that's how life is, but most of the time, people don't die until they are very very VERY old."
"As old as Grandpa and Grandma?"
"Even older, sweetie."
"I miss Grandpa and Grandma."
"I love you, sweetie." Her cool hands rested on her child's forehead. "I miss them too. Are you feeling better?"
"Yes, Mommy."
Her cool hand continued to stroke her child's face, soothing and caressing, bringing comfort. She began a story she'd memorized years before.
"I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always. As long as I'm living, my baby you'll be…"
"Oh mom, I'm too old for THAT story…"
She picked up the child's hand, the one closest to her, and subconsciously rubbed her thumb back and forth along it. She smiled, in that enigmatic way that mothers have always had through the centuries. "You're feeling better…"
"I'm not going to die, mom, right?"
"Of course not."
"I'm going to feel better soon? Promise me?"
"Yes, sweetie, she responded. "Cross my heart and hope to die…"
"Tell me the story, mom."
"I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always. As long as I'm living, my big boy you'll be…"
One year later, Luke's mother was dead.
------
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
He must still be dreaming. His mother was still stroking the back of his hand.
His throat hurt, really hurt. There was numbness below his throat, but his throat hurt. He tried to clear it, but Luke found that he couldn't really make a sound.
His eyes struggled to flutter open; maybe he really was dead, and in heaven with his mom. Except, Luke didn't believe in heaven and if it did exist, didn't think he'd done anything good enough to merit being there. And it definitely was not heaven if Lorelai was not there.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Someone was crying.
Someone was still holding his hand.
His eyes wouldn't open.
-----
"Dr. Smith to the OR, Dr. Smith to the OR." An intercom blared commands to doctors and nurses, all scuttling around the hospital halls. "Paging Loretta Miller. Loretta Miller. Paging Loretta Miller."
Just another day at the hospital.
As he walked down the hallway, he saw them. The two of them. Lorelai was smiling, her body still heavy. He noticed that she had on a pretty blue gown, not a hospital-issued one, with a pretty blue robe around it, all bringing out the blue in her eyes.
"Mom, you're not supposed to be up yet!"
"But I want to see him, see him with all his little new friends. And what if something happens to him, like on that one CSI episode where…"
Rory smiled indulgently at her mother.
He watched as they approached the large glass windows that looked into the nursery. Just the two of them were there; it wasn't the usual time of day when a throng of new dads and moms and assorted relatives looked in on their babies.
He watched as they both pressed their faces against the window, making silly goofy faces, leaving lip prints on the glass.
Their attention focused on the window nearest to him. He walked up behind them--why couldn't they see him--and looked into the nearest window and saw him. A small baby boy (he assumed from the blue knit cap covering the head) lay sound asleep in his isolette. His eyes were drawn to the name placard affixed to the isolette above the baby's head. It read: GILMORE, WILLIAM DANES.
William Danes Gilmore. He gazed at the child and placed his hand on the glass. 'My baby,' he thought. 'Our baby.'
He heard soft crying. Lorelai was crying. 'No! Don't cry,' he tried to say, but no sound came from his throat.
He saw Rory look up, and smile sadly. He followed her line of sight, and saw a man approach the small family unit. His grin was goofy. His hand dragged a sullen kindergarten-age girl along with him.
His heart lodged in his throat. This was a figure he knew all too well.
He watched as Lorelai pressed her hand against the glass and then turned as the man slowly walked towards her. He embraced her, placing a kiss on her cheek.
"Chris! You came! And GiGi, how's it going?"
"Hi Auntie…"
"C'mon GiGi, let's see the baby!" Rory suggested.
"Is he my brother?"
"No, GiGi, but he's Rory's brother," Christopher advised his younger daughter.
"Who's his daddy?" the little girl asked.
"Let's not upset Auntie Lor," Christopher said.
Rory approached and kissed her dad on both cheeks, then hugged him. "I'm so glad you're here to help Mom through this, Dad," she whispered.
"Glad to be here for her," he replied.
"It's been so rough on her ever since he left to be with Anna…"
What? How could this be? He didn't love Anna, that was over a decade in the past…Yes, there was April, but April had nothing to do with Lorelai.
Rory ruffled GiGi's hair. "How's it going?"
The question was addressed to both child and father.
"It's going," Christopher admitted. Christopher and his two daughters stood and watched Lorelai, who was now on the other side of the nursery window.
"Maybe someone should tell Luke," Rory continued. "But Mom keeps saying, he made his choice. And she loves him too much to screw up his new life."
"Maine, huh?" Christopher asked.
"As far as we know."
Luke crept closer to the glass. He watched as Lorelai picked the little baby up, then sank down into the rocking chair in the nursery. He watched as she parted her robe, and untied her gown, and placed the baby--his son!--to her breast. He heard as she whispered, "I'll always love your daddy."
He watched as she fed their baby. He heard as she whispered, "I love you, Luke. I love you, Luke."
-----
"I love you, Luke."
Luke tried once more to open his eyes. This time, his eyes flashed open.
The 'Beep! Beep! Beep!' jerked him awake.
Disoriented, he heard Lorelai's "I love you, Luke" over and over, and felt her stroking his hand. And why was his hand so wet? His heart was pounding, his head was throbbing, his throat was painful, he was waking but felt so, so tired. But he felt like the luckiest man in the world.
"I love you, Luke," Lorelai repeated.
"S…Sorry…" Luke rasped, and Lorelai jumped.
What was happening? Why was Lorelai sobbing?
Lorelai leaned over and sobbed even harder. "Oh Luke, I'm so sorry, so sorry…I didn't mean to hurt you…"
TBC
A/N: The first verse of Robert Munsch's "love You Forever" is courtesy of www . robertmunsch . com
And yes, I know that story was written in 1986 and doesn't fit the timeline for Luke's life. But I like it.