CHAPTER FOUR

"There's been no change," Rory announced as Lorelai reentered the room.

Lorelai glanced at her daughter before looking back at her mother. Emily seemed so unfamiliar to her. The woman lying in the bed looked nothing like her mother. She wasn't wearing fancy clothes and her hair was rather flat. She looked nothing like the cold yet regal Emily Gilmore that Lorelai was used to seeing. There was no expression on her face, only the bruises from her fall. She looked like someone else entirely.

Richard had slipped out of the room for a moment. Lorelai assumed that he was either going to find Joshua or that he just needed a few moments alone. She could still see the look of panic on his face as they had waited on the ambulance. Never before had she seen him so afraid. It hit her then that what her parents had wasn't just a good arrangement for the both of them. It was real and true, the kind of love that you can only have after a lifetime together. It was what she had spent so many years searching for and she had eventually begun to wonder if that kind of love was even possible. She now wondered if perhaps it was something that you couldn't find; perhaps it has to find you instead.

"How are you holding up?" she asked her daughter.

"Ok, I guess." Rory glanced at her grandmother. It was hard to look at her. In her world there were two Emily Gilmores. The first was her Grandma. She was the one who had been such a little part of her childhood but had played a major role in her teenage years. She was the woman who had decorated a room for her sixteen-year-old granddaughter in the Gilmore residence with NSync posters and had thrown her an over-the-top birthday party. That was the Emily Gilmore that had always made her feel special and important.

Then there was the other Emily Gilmore, her mother's mother. That was the Emily Gilmore that had tried to control her life and had driven her too to leave the Gilmore home. She wasn't too fond of the second Emily Gilmore, but she believed deep down that the real Emily Gilmore was the first woman. That was the one that just wanted her family to be together, even if she didn't always make the best choices or say the right things to get what she wanted. That was the Emily Gilmore that loved her and her mother, too, even if she had difficulties expressing it sometimes.

"I just keep thinking about all the things that I didn't get to say to her." Rory slowly reached out to touch her grandmother's hand.

"Hey, you are the light of her life." Rory looked up at her mother. "I look at you and my parents and sometimes I don't know who they are when I see you guys together. It's like they are two completely different people than the man and woman who raised me. If I can see that, then there's no way that my mother didn't know how much you love her."

"I guess so," Rory admitted. She looked up at her mother. It hadn't really hit her until that moment what her mother must be feeling. If she was this upset at the thought of losing her grandmother, then what must her own mother be going through? The two women were not close, but they still shared the mother-daughter connection.

"What about you, Mom? I know you guys aren't on the best terms, but things seem to be better between you two lately. And she is your mother, after all. Are you OK?"

Lorelai sighed, looking down at her mother. "I don't know." She tried to force out a smile. "I don't know what I feel right now."

Richard reentered the room, looking more put together than he had before. "Is there anything we can do for you, Grandpa?" Rory asked. "Like go to the house or anything you can think of?"

He shook his head. "No, just being here is good enough."

It was getting late and Richard finally convinced Lorelai and Rory to go home. Rory had been less receptive to the idea, but Lorelai had eventually convinced her that there was nothing more they could do for Emily tonight. They'd offered Richard a ride home, but he didn't accept. He couldn't just leave her alone. Deep down, he knew that she was aware of his presence. He couldn't allow himself to think anything else. So, he remained for hours in the chair next to her bed.

"Emily ….what in the world are you doing?" Richard stood in the doorway of their bedroom. Emily was sitting on the floor with her legs crossed in front of her. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen his wife actually sitting on the floor. She looked very unladylike, but it somehow warmed his heart. There were a lot of books spread out in front of her. She had made quite a mess.

"They're giving a few of us from the DAR who have been members for over thirty years some sort of lifetime honor." She wasn't really paying attention to him. Instead she was preoccupied, looking for something in one of the photo albums.

"That still doesn't explain what you're doing…"

Emily sighed. She didn't have time to play games with him this afternoon. "They want a photo of me when I first joined. I'm sure that I have one, but I've no clue where it is. I was eighteen, Richard!" He walked over to where she had the photos albums spread around her, lowering himself down to sit next to her on the floor.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Can I not help my wife?"

Emily sighed. "You don't know what you're looking for."

"I may not have met you for a few more years, but I'm sure that I can recognize a photo of you and a bunch of old women standing in front of a flag."

"If you're going to make fun of the DAR…"

"I'm sorry," he cut her off. "I just want to spend some time with you. We haven't seen each other very much lately."

"Well, if you would come home from work at a decent hour…"she mused.

He smiled, touching her knee. "I know. I'm sorry."

Emily reached to her right and picked up an album. "Here, look through this one first. It's mostly pictures of you and I, but there might be something in there from before we met."

He took the album from her, opening it to the first page. She was right. It was full of photos of the two of them. As he scanned the pages, he wondered when these photos had been taken. He remembered most of the events, but he didn't remember that there had been someone there with a camera to capture the moments.

"I don't remember this," he said, holding a photo out to her.

Emily sighed. She didn't have time to play with him. She had to find that photo. Yet when she turned her head to look at the picture in Richard's hand, she started laughing. "How could you not remember that?" she asked. "It was the most ridiculous day."

He thought for a moment. "Oh yes. It was your friend Melinda's twenty-fifth birthday party."

"She wanted everyone to wear a costume."

Richard brought the photo closer to his eyes, trying to see what he was wearing. "What did I go as?" he asked. It was quite clear that Emily was a cheerleader. But he was partially blocked in the photo by Melinda's fiancé Preston, whom she had strong-armed into dressing as Prince Charming to her Cinderella.

"You were a football player," Emily reminded him, looking back at her own photo album. "Melinda wanted all the couples to coordinate their costumes."

"I can't believe I let you talk me into that."

"Me?" Emily looked over at him again, dropping the photos in her hands into her lap. "It was your idea, Richard!" He narrowed his eyes, as if he didn't believe her. "It took you two weeks to convince me try on that silly outfit. Then when I finally did you kept trying to tackle me and we were two hours late to the party."

Ah, yes. He remembered that. The short skirt had fallen mid-thigh and the top was rather tight-fitted, too. It made him wish that he had known her in high school.

Richard smiled at the memory from just three weeks ago. It wasn't a special night or anything really worth remembering. It was just one of those routine evenings at home. Yet it was the perfect night. They had sat on the floor in their bedroom for hours. He kept interrupting her every few minutes with another photo. At first she would be annoyed and then she would start laughing at the memory. They never found the photo that they had been looking for. It ended up that Biddy found one in Emily's DAR file.

Richard couldn't look at her lying in front of him for very long. When they were at home, he had no problem watching her sleep. In fact, something about it just made her seem more beautiful and amazing when she was silent and unmoving. Yet now it was too difficult to see her lying there unconscious, knowing she wasn't going to wake up at any second and scold him for just sitting there and doing nothing. It was too hard to not hear her voice or see the sparkle in her eyes. The idea that he might not get his wife back was something that he couldn't bear to think about. She was the most important person in his life, the person that he valued more than anyone else. He had never imagined that she wouldn't be there with him. She was not just his wife, but his best friend.

Richard looked at the clock on the wall. He felt so helpless and useless. If the situation were reversed, Emily would have their entire affairs in order by now. She would have a list and a plan and she would be executing it faithfully. Yet here he was sitting idly in her room with not a clue about what to do next. The only thing he could do was go and find the paper. Maybe that would ease his mind, for a few moments at least.

Emily opened her eyes. She looked around, confused by her surroundings. She hadn't been in this place in a long time. In fact, she couldn't believe that it still looked the same. After a few moments, she realized that it was impossible. There was no way it could still be here and in the same condition. And why in the world was she lying on the couch? No one ever sat there. It was the most uncomfortable piece of furniture in the whole place.

"It isn't real," she spoke. Emily's head jerked up to see where the voice was coming from. "We're not actually here. This is just your subconscious or whatever they call it now."

Emily smiled at the sound of the familiar voice. She slowly turned around, not knowing if she would indeed see whom she expected. "Sweetie…"

The tall, slender woman smiled. "Hi, Emily."

Emily looked at her best friend in shocked silence. It had been three years since she'd seen her last, since she had died.

"What is this place?" Emily asked.