Chapter 3

Forty Years of Waiting

With the study phone on speaker, Richard listened as the line rang and was then answered by the familiar voice of his granddaughter.

"Hello?"

Picking up the receiver he greeted her warmly. "Hello, Rory," he spoke, a fond smile spreading across his face.

"Hi, Grandpa!"

"I'm not catching you at a bad time, am I?" he asked with concern, leaning onto the edge of his desk.

"Nope, I can talk," she assured him cheerily.

"Good, good. How's the campaign trail?" he questioned.

"Oh you know, campaigny…" Rory smiled at the sound of her grandfather's chuckle.

Richard leaned back in the chair. "That last piece you wrote, the op-ed on the Senator's wife was very well done. Looking through the eyes of women she's met in those round tables was a positively brilliant."

"I don't know about brilliant, but thank you," she replied modestly.

"Well, I just call them as I see them. I read your man is going to be in New York next week."

Rory sighed. "Only for ten hours. It's going to be hard to be so close and yet so far. I haven't been home in ages."

"Well, perhaps we can do something about that," Richard said leaning forward again. "You know your Grandmother's birthday is coming up next month."

"Yes. I've been trying to figure out what to get her, but so far I haven't had any good ideas," Rory admitted.

"Well, my plan may take care of that as well. I thought it would be fun to turn the tables on her. Throw her a party for a change. What do you think?"

"Oh, she'll love it," she said excitedly. "Is it going to be a surprise?"

"Yes, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention it to her."

"My lips are sealed," Rory promised.

"Do you think you might be able to get that weekend off? I know your Grandmother would love to see you. I'd be happy to pay for your ticket," Richard offered.

"I'd like to. Let me see what I can work out." Rory looked up as someone waved to her. "Oh, we're getting ready to finish up and head to the next location. I'll call you back in a few days."

"Of course, and Rory, perhaps it's best if you call me at the office," he suggested.

"You got it. Talk to you soon. Love you, Grandpa."

"I love you too, Rory. Goodbye." Richard hung up the phone with a grin and rubbed his hands together in satisfaction.

"Good morning," Emily smiled cheerily as she breezed into the lobby.

"Ah, Emily, how nice to see you today," Michel greeted her, a rare smile appearing upon his face. She disappeared down the hallway to store her purse in Lorelai's office and reappeared a few minutes later. "I saw something that made me think about you last night," Michel spoke as he pulled up the daily check-in list on the computer.

"Oh?" she asked, stopping next to him, flipping through a few papers that she held in her hands.

"The London Philharmonic is coming to Hartford to do a special performance with the Hartford Symphony."

"Really?" she responded, her interest piqued. "I hadn't heard about that."

"It hasn't been announced yet but I go to the same gym as the timpani player-" Michel began.

"Rudolph Van Dorn?" Emily interrupted.

Michel nodded, delighted by the fact that someone actually knew whom he was referring to. "He says that the deal is supposed to be announced this week."

"It would be wonderful to see the London Philharmonic and not have to travel all the way to Europe," Emily gushed. "I just hope that Richard isn't out of town when they are here. I hate going to the Symphony alone."

"Well, you know … I'd always be willing to go with you." As Michel spoke, Lorelai approached from behind them, stopping in her tracks. "I do so adore classical music. And," he added, pausing for dramatic effect, "I hear that it is likely they will play a medley of different pieces instead of works by just one composer."

Emily smiled, "Richard does always complain when I want to attend the Symphony on a week night. Perhaps he wouldn't mind if I left him at home this time..."

"I like the way you think," Michel grinned.

Lorelai's stomach turned at the thought of her mother and Michel going out together and … bonding. It wasn't an appealing idea. They both knew too much about her to make her feel comfortable with the thought of them spending time together outside of work.

"Lorelai," Emily exclaimed, seeing her daughter standing behind them. "I was just looking for you."

"Were you?" she questioned, looking between the two of them.

As a guest approached the front desk, Emily and Lorelai left Michel to attend to the new arrival and proceeded down the hall. "Apparently Sylvia has been telling everyone she knows about how wonderful the anniversary party was and about this 'quaint little inn' in Stars Hollow."

"Oh really?" Lorelai smiled, her eyes lighting up.

"Yes, but that isn't the best part," Emily explained.

"What is better than free publicity among people who have more money than God?" she teased.

"Well, Sylvia's son Isaac …. You remember him, right? The one who gave that long speech about how his parents had instilled in him the values of fidelity and loyalty…"

Lorelai thought for a moment before the image of him came to mind. "Oh yeah, the guy who was there with his second wife and her kids from her third marriage."

"Yes," Emily replied. "Well, he apparently works for The New Englander.

"The magazine?" Lorelai asked.

Emily nodded. "Yes. He wanted to know if he might call you this week and set up an appointment. He told his editor about this place and she's interested in doing a feature on The Dragonfly and the town of Stars Hollow."

"You're kidding," Lorelai breathed. "That magazine has the largest circulation on the east coast. We've been trying since we opened to get them to even just mention us."

"So, you'd be interested, then?" Emily confirmed.

"Of course! Give him my contact information. That would be great, Mom!"

Emily smiled, pleased that Lorelai had taken so well to the idea. "Oh, and one more thing…"

"What? Architectural Digest wants to do a layout on us, too?"

"No," Emily laughed. "Your 'main man Manny' left a message that our refusal of his linens constituted a breach of contract."

"No," Lorelai breathed, her shoulders sagging at the idea of what this would mean.

"It's all right. I pointed out to him that I had read your contract and that his three most recent deliveries were also breaches that justified repudiation. Thus we were in the right and should he need confirmation of that, he was welcome to call our attorney."

"But we don't exactly have an attorney, Mom…"

"Does Manny know that?" Emily asked.

"Oh, Mom," Lorelai grinned, "you're way too good at this. I should have you answer the phone instead of Michel. You'd be able to talk all of our guests into paying for more expensive rooms."

"I don't know about that, Lorelai," Emily effused, a bit embarrassed by the praise.

"Seriously, Mom … how do you know all this? Repudiation? Breach? They made me take some business law class in college but I definitely don't remember much of it."

Emily shrugged. "I suppose I've listened to enough self-righteous, overly confident attorneys at dinner parties to have an idea of the rhetoric they use."

"Who needs a degree in Business Management? I think I need to start going to these dinner parties with you," Lorelai commented.

Richard smiled as he rounded a corner, spotting his wife bending over a dark wood desk in a room that was so small she could barely turn around, let alone pull out the chair and sit down. She was flipping through a file feverishly, clearly looking for something in particular. When she found it, she let out a small sigh in contentment and held the file in her hands, scanning over its contents. Finally, Emily turned her to head to the side to see her husband standing just outside the doorway. Smiling, she put the paper down on the desk as he approached her.

"So, this is your office?" Richard asked, waving his hand in the air with an amused look on his face.

"It's Lorelai's office. She just lets me use it sometimes," she corrected him.

Richard chuckled, looking around the small room. "It's …" He held his thought as his wife's eyebrow raised, her eyes narrowed squarely in his direction. "Quaint," he finished.

Softening her face, Emily laughed. "It's small," she admitted, reaching down for the paper she had placed on the desk. "What brings you by the Inn?" she asked.

"I thought perhaps you might want to go get some lunch," Richard suggested, shrugging his shoulders.

Emily smiled, looking down at her watch. "It's a lovely idea. But I'm afraid that I don't have time today." She tried to offer an apologetic smile to her husband's let down expression. "Perhaps next week?" she suggested, placing her hands squarely against his chest.

"Next week?" Richard reached for her hands, taking them in his own. "I miss you. You've been so busy lately that we barely see each other."

"I know," Emily breathed. There was a moment of silence between them which was soon filled with an awkward laugh. Richard looked at her, puzzled. "I'm sorry. It's just … I never thought I would be the one busy working while you are at home missing me."

Richard snorted, rolling his eyes as he took a step back.

"Oh, come on, Richard," she laughed. "I put up with it for forty years. You'll survive for a week," she reassured him, turning to pick up her paper from the desk.

"You know," he grinned, taking a step closer to her. "I seem to remember a time when you came to my office dressed in nothing but an overcoat."

Emily laughed lightly, looking away from him, still a bit embarrassed by how brazen she had been that day. "I was much younger back then," she countered.

"Yet no less attractive," he reassured her with a seductive grin, his hand moving to her hip as he pulled her closer to him.

The paper in her hand fluttered to the desk as his lips moved to her neck. She didn't respond yet she clearly made no effort to physically rebuff him. Allowing herself to give in to him for a few moments, she struggled with her restraint before regaining her composure. Gently pushing him back, she put a hand up between them. "I'm sorry," she sighed. "I need to get this done today." Again she picked up the sheet of paper she'd come to the office to find.

"So do I," Richard grumbled, smiling at her with a hint of mischief in his eyes.

Emily rolled her eyes. "I think you can live with a little bit of loneliness for a few days."

Huffing in frustration, Richard lifted his head and looked past her. "You should get back to your work," he stated, turning away.

"Richard," Emily called after him as he began to walk away from her. "Richard, please don't – " Ignoring her, he disappeared down the hallway. Emily shook her head, trying not to let herself get angry with him. She had put up with his work for forty years yet he couldn't support her for a couple of busy days? Realizing that she was clutching the paper in her hands, she forced herself to take a deep breath.

Hearing Lorelai's shoes as she approached, Emily smoothed out the paper and placed it back in the file on the desk. "I haven't made that call yet but I am about to go do it right now," she stated, trying to push all thoughts of Richard from her mind.

"Where's Dad?" Lorelai asked. "You two were back here alone for so long that I was almost afraid to come find you," she grinned, clearly in a playful mood, almost bouncing.

"I've got work to do," Emily groaned, walking past her daughter.

Watching as her mother marched down the hallway, Lorelai frowned. "It's no fun to tease you, if you don't play along," she mumbled.

"Oh my God," Lorelai breathed, falling back against the bed as she pulled Luke's flannel sheet up around herself. On cool nights, she was glad that his sheets were warm. Yet right now her body felt like it was on fire.

Too out of breath to respond, Luke exhaled loudly and nodded in agreement.

"You know," Lorelai heaved, taking in some air. "If we keep this up, our wedding night is going to be a really big disappointment."

"I seriously doubt that," Luke responded, shifting his sore legs to stretch them out.

"Did I tell you that I found a wedding gown?" she asked.

"No, you didn't," he replied, still breathing heavily.

"It was actually all my mother's doing," she admitted, glancing over at Luke to catch the look on his face. His mixture of surprise and confusion caused her to grin mischievously. "It's not like it sounds. We were picking up some towels for a wedding from Dunbar's Bridal."

"You bought a dress from Dunbar's?" Luke asked, suddenly lifting his head to look at her, clearly alarmed.

"Well…" she squirmed.

"If I walked into that place, they'd taser me and toss me out back into the alley."

Lorelai laughed and rolled her eyes. "No, they wouldn't. Ok … they might." She struggled for a moment to find the strength to push herself onto her side and propped her arm up beneath her chin. "My mother bought the dress."

"Lorelai …"

"I know what it sounds like, Luke. But she promised that this was it, she won't pay for anything else."

"And you believe that?" he asked.

"She's been really good lately." Luke's face remained stoic. "Come on, even you have to admit it. If I'm saying this, you know that a black hole has swallowed up the whole universe as we know it." Nodding in concession, Luke's face cracked just a bit. "And you can relax … my mother had nothing to do with picking out the dress. She wasn't even in the room when I first saw it."

"That does make me a feel a bit better, actually," he admitted.

"It's perfect, Luke," she breathed, her face immediately lighting up. "I know I can't tell you about it, but it's perfect. The material … the stitching … the design … oh, Luke …" she gushed.

The smile on her face and the sparkle in her eyes warmed his heart and he knew that this was exactly what she wanted and that she wasn't being strong-armed by her mother. "I can't wait to see you in it," he spoke softly.

"Two months," she whispered, pushing her body closer to Luke's so that they lay only a few centimeters apart.

"Less than eight weeks," Luke corrected her, causing her to break out into a grin.

"Do you think we can break the record we set tonight?" she teased, her hand creeping its way up his chest as she brushed her nose over the nape of his neck.

"I think we're going to need all the practice we can get for our wedding night," Luke suggested, his voice low and sultry. "After all, they do say that practice makes perfect."

"I love the way you think," she moaned, feeling his arms circle around her as he pushed her onto her back, his body pressed against hers.

Lying on their backs, Emily and Richard both stared at the ceiling, neither saying a word. Their breathing was shallow and still a bit uneven. The silence felt awkward and neither knew what to say to not make things worse. It had been many years since the last time it had been like this and neither of them really cared to remember that particular night or the fight that had ensued.

Emily finally broke the silence, unable to stand the awkward tension between them. "I should go take a shower but I'm too tired to get up," she sighed, hoping the small talk would ease the air between them.

Richard moved slightly, crossing his arms over his chest. "You should have told me you were too tired to… " He didn't finish the sentence but Emily knew what he was implying and the tone of his voice irked her, turning her disappointment and guilt into anger.

"I did tell you, Richard. You were too wrapped up in yourself to hear it," she replied, still staring up at the ceiling, her own arms crossed as she held the sheet to her body.

"Me? You're the one who has been too busy these past few weeks. How am I supposed to know that you were too tired to make love to me when you sure as hell didn't resist?"

"Me?" she asked incredulously, turning her head to look at him. Richard nodded and she angrily snapped her head back, once again staring straight ahead. "You have absolutely no right to say that to me," she seethed.

"What? That I wanted to spend time with you? That I wanted to be with my wife? How could I not see it? I'm clearly being selfish," he huffed, the sarcasm dripping from his voice.

Turning over angrily, Emily pushed herself onto her elbow as she glared at him. "Forty years, Richard!" she declared. He lifted up slightly and turned his head to look at her, uncertain of what she meant. "Forty years," she repeated more forcefully. "That is how many years I have spent waiting for you to come home or waiting for you to get off the phone and come to bed." Rolling onto his back once again, he stared at the ceiling as she continued. "How many nights do you think that I have laid in this bed and wished you were here? And how many nights do you think that I just wanted to be with my husband and to make love to him but you were too tired or too preoccupied with work? I have spent forty years being second in your line of priorities." At that, he turned his head to her once again. "Amazingly, I have been able to spend time with our daughter and not worry about when things are going to blow up between us. I have found something that I can do that makes me happy. That is what working at the Inn does, Richard. It makes me happy. I have spent so many years doing what you want. If I can do that for you for forty years and be there to support you, then the least you can do is support me right now."

Richard sighed. "You should have told me you were too tired. When you aren't in the mood, you always turn me down … but you didn't and I didn't realize…" His voice trailed off and he turned his head away from her to look back at the ceiling.

"I know that I have been neglecting you lately and I didn't want to disappoint you again," she spoke softly. "I just didn't…" her voice trailed off.

"I don't want you to feel like you have to make me happy, Emily. We don't have to make love to spend time together. I just miss you. Having dinner together more than once or twice a week would be nice," he suggested.

"I know," she whispered. The awkward silence once again fell upon them.

"Emily …" Richard spoke first this time.

"Yes?" she asked, looking over at him as Richard reached for her hand.

"You aren't second in my life. You've always been my first priority. I'm just sorry that I didn't always make you feel that way." Emily nodded her head as she looked up at the ceiling. "I love you very much," he spoke.

"I love you, too, Richard," she spoke, squeezing his hand. It still felt a bit awkward between them but they both knew that things would be fine in the morning.

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