September 2000

The door opened and her mother welcomed them with a smile on her face. Sure, it looked genuine and maybe the part of the smile for Rory was, but Lorelai just knew it was packed with untold layers of gloaty-ness. "Oh, good, you're here."

"Hey." Lorelai responded as they made their way into the foyer, trying to sound as light and cheerful as possible…which was always a feat when she was at her parent's, but today in particular. She still couldn't believe Rory hadn't wanted her to try to get them out of this dinner. True, Rory was not a typical social butterfly, but surely there had to be someone better for her to hang out with on a Friday night than her grandparents? Mrs. Kim had a strict curfew for Lane, but it wasn't like she was forbidden from hanging out at all on Friday evenings. And surely a whole day golfing with her grandfather last weekend was enough 'quality' time for everyone involved.

"Hi, Grandma." Damn, Rory's greeting actually did seem sincere. Could really possibly want to be here?

Emily looked back and forth between them. "My goodness, what is that?" She took the large box that Lorelai was carrying, her voice conveying just the slightest undertone of that forced politeness that was so ubiquitous in her world.

"We brought dessert." Sookie's cooking was always a crowd pleaser and Lorelai wanted these dinners to go smoothly—really, she did. Believe it or not, Rory was getting along with her grandparent's and as conflicted as that made Lorelai feel, she was happy for her. Well, she was trying to be happy for her. She wanted to be happy for her. She was going to be happy for her.

"Really? How thoughtful. What is it?" Emily lifted the top of the box to peer inside, the cheerful façade falling from her face as she inspected the confection before her.

"Blueberry shortcake."

"I've never heard of blueberry shortcake."

"Yeah, it's a Stars Hollow specialty." It was a long story involving Sookie and their produce guy. The both of them were insanely stubborn perfectionists. And they were always arguing. Although if you asked Lorelai, she was pretty sure there was something going on there. Or at least that they wanted something to be going on.

"Why is it already cut?" Emily's voice dripped with disapproval.

"It's left over." Her mother looked up at her, a look of utter incomprehension on her face. "From the wedding…" Lorelai clarified. Emily just continued to stare her, aghast. "At the Inn…"

"Yes, I know where the wedding was." Okay, so maybe instead of being happy for Rory enjoying these dinners with her grandparents, Lorelai was just going to have to settle for not wanting to plan a murder-suicide.

"Oh, sorry." Lorelai held up her hand. "You were just doing that staring thing."

"You brought us used dessert?" Her mother wasn't even attempting to hide her contempt at this point.

"It's not used. It's left over." It's not like someone chewed it up and spit it back out into the box. It's not even like it was handled by the general public. These were the slices that never left the kitchen. Then again. Lorelai shouldn't have been surprised. Her mother's snobbery over the stupidest things never failed to impress her.

"How nice," Emily sneered. "I'll just put it in the kitchen next to my half-empty box of Cheer." She started walking through the foyer."

"She's in a good mood tonight." Lorelai whispered to her daughter with a shrug

"Can I get you a drink?" Emily asked after handing the box to a maid in the dining room and then leading Rory and Lorelai into the sitting room.

"Uh, white wine would be nice."

"Coke."

"So, Lorelai, did Rory tell you all about the wonderful time she had at the club?" Annnnnnd, here it came. The moment for gloating had arrived. The moment Emily had been waiting for since the second she opened the door to greet them. Well, Lorelai wasn't going to let it get to her. And she wasn't going to let her mother win. Emily was expecting Lorelai to get defensive and churlish just so she could rub it in even more. But if Lorelai didn't let it bother her then Emily couldn't play her upper hand.

"She sure did." Lorelai stated through her strained smile as she sat on the settee, trying to sound unbothered and probably failing miserably. So what if Rory had a good time at the club? Just because Lorelai didn't like socializing with pretentious bores who had nothing better to do then show off their designer tennis clothes and complain about golf carts, didn't mean that Rory had to not like it. Sure, her daughter was far from sporty, but did golf really take any actual athletic skill? And at least there was usually some good food there…if one liked food that didn't come fried and smothered in ketchup. And Rory really always was more of a mustard girl. There was probably plenty of Grey Poupon to go around.

"Your father was simply flying all week. She really charmed him." She stated as she started pouring drinks from the drink cart.

"Aww. Well, if anybody could, it would be her." Her father was hardly a softie, but Rory was smart and sweet and well-mannered. She could charm the pants off of Karl Lagerfeld while dressed in a moomoo if she wanted to.

"I mean, in this age of MTV and 100 television channels who would've imagined that a young girl could still get a thrill spending a simple afternoon with her grandfather?" Emily slowly plopped a couple of ice cubes in a glass, taking her sweet time. Lorelai gritted her teeth and nodded along, trying to maintain her Zen. Like Rory would even watch MTV. The music they had on there was crap. It was all NSYNC and Britney Spears and Eminem. She'd taught her daughter to have better taste in music than that. And while Rory had admitted to having a good time at the club with her grandfather, Lorelai was pretty sure a 'thrill' was a major exaggeration. And besides, it's not like there was anything 'simple' about the club. The club was the opposite of simple. It was all about extravagance and luxury. And ugh, could her mother pour those drinks a little faster already?

"That wine would be real good right now, Mom."

"I think we should consider getting her a membership at the club, don't you?" The look in her mother's eyes rivaled the look of…of…well, she couldn't think of an original example right now, but she looked like the cat that ate the canary. All smile-y and superior like she was straight out of Wonderland.

But whatever, Lorelai wasn't going to let it get to her. "If she wants, sure." It's not like Rory would want a membership to the club. One Saturday afternoon was one thing, a regular membership was something else entirely. It wasn't Rory's style. Rory could get along with her grandparent's without accepting their extravagant, pompous lifestyle. And it totally didn't bother Lorelai that Rory was getting along with her grandparents. It was fine.

"I mean, to have a place to go where she can socialize, that's very important to a young girl." Ugh. Was her mother serious? What did she think Rory was doing with her spare time? Certainly not the things that Lorelai was doing in her spare time. And Lorelai had had a membership to the club back then. It hadn't stopped her from getting pregnant.

"Well, now especially that the crack den is closed down on the corner all her really good friends are gone." Her mother gave her a disapproving look and for a moment, Lorelai felt a little better. Sure, she had given in to her baser instincts and failed in her attempts to not let Emily get under her skin, but man, there was something so satisfying about seeing that look on her mother's face. "What do you think, Mom, should I pursue the career in comedy?"

Lorelai's satisfaction didn't last long. Her mother shook her head with an amused chuckle. "It's just very interesting the way things turn out, isn't it?" She looked so annoyingly proud of herself and it killed Lorelai. She'd worked too hard to let the likes of Richard and Emily Gilmore turn her into a polo-shirt-wearing country club girl. It was not working out that way. She took a deep breath trying to formulate a measured response, but before she could speak she was interrupted by her father's entrance.

"Oh, you're here." He said with more excitement than she'd ever seen him have outside of anything having to do with his work. "Lorelai."

"Dad."

"Rory, I have a surprise." He seemed unnaturally excited to tell her about it. She'd never seen her father light up like that for her. Apparently her mother was right; Rory had really charmed the ever stoic Richard Gilmore. "Not only did I find that copy of Mencken's 'Chrestomathy' we discussed," Lorelai glanced at her daughter who was also now beaming from ear to ear. Over her grandfather who she barely knew. Over a book. She looked back at her father again and he was continuing on animatedly. They had really done some kind of bonding the other day. This wasn't just a tolerable day, as she'd been trying to convince herself. This was something special. Something she wasn't sure she understood. Richard Gilmore bonding with a teenage girl? He'd certainly never bonded with her when she was a teenager. They'd never had a single book or TV show or hobby in common. And even after Rory had mentioned that they'd talked about this book, it never really occurred to her that Rory might have something in common with the man who had nothing in common with Lorelai. Afterall, she and Rory were so alike. At yet here they were, both practically salivating after this 'Christ-ometry' whatever. It all seemed so surreal. "I also found a first edition of his memoirs as well."

"You're kidding?" Rory seemed in complete awe of this find and for some reason it made Lorelai's stomach fall. It was just a book. It didn't mean anything.

"It's in my office if you'd like to see them." Richard offered proudly.

"Oh my God, I totally would." Rory was pushing herself up off the couch before she could even finish the sentence.

"I'd like to take a look at those myself." Emily pipped in, handing Lorelai her glass of wine with a smug look as she turned and followed them out, leaving Lorelai sitting on the settee completely alone.

December 2005

It smelled like hospital. That stale, antiseptic smell that stung your nostrils as you inhaled. Emily hated it. She'd always hated it. She was a hostess by nature; she entertained Richard's business colleagues, she threw grand parties, she organized charity events that were frequently the talk of the town. Emily was all about hospitality and hospital smell, ironically enough, was the complete opposite of hospitable. Honestly, whoever ran these places should hire someone to do something about that smell, it was atrocious. How could they expect anyone to feel at ease when that smell was everywhere? How was anyone supposed to get well inhaling that stench?

Emily gripped Richard's hand more firmly, searching for something warm and familiar to calm herself as the elevator carried them upward. Although a part of this felt too familiar for comfort. It felt surreal, like she was in a dream from the past. As though, in a semiconscious state, her brain had squashed all of 1984 and 1985 into one terrible nightmare she was doomed to repeat. Two decades from now would it all come full circle again with this new child? God, how she hoped not.

When Emily had answered the phone late last night and heard her daughter's shaky voice on the other end of the line, her chest had clenched automatically; a maternal reflex that had never fully gone away, even after Lorelai had. For sixteen years Emily had barely seen the child she had carried and given birth to and raised, and yet she'd never stopped being a mother; though if you asked Lorelai, she'd probably say there wasn't a maternal bone in Emily's body. She had done her best though, she had loved as truly as she could, and she had tried hard to protect her daughter from the harsh realities of the world; but Lorelai had had her own ideas about the world. So, when Lorelai had come back needing money for Rory's education, it had seemed like the perfect opportunity. The perfect chance to find a path back into her daughter's life. The chance to get to know the granddaughter who had been taken away before she'd even learned to say 'good-bye.' And it had worked. She'd forged a tenuous peace with Lorelai and a genuine relationship with Rory. Rory who, while often too much like her mother for her own good, had also at least appreciated the things her grandparents had had to offer. Rory, who fit in at the club or a DAR event; Rory, who had had a coming out party; Rory, who had chosen to go to Chilton and Yale.

Emily Gilmore loved her granddaughter just as much as she loved her own daughter—maybe even more, if she was being truly honest with herself—because Rory had loved her more. And so, to go through that loss all over again when Rory had run away had been unbearable. She hadn't wanted to believe it at first, when Lorelai had told her of Rory's disappearance. Not just because she couldn't go through that again, but because Rory had never shown the slightest indication that she wanted to leave. Sure, there had been that falling out after the vow renewal, but that had just been because she'd been trying to fight Lorelai's battle. And they'd gotten past that anyway.

But it didn't matter because it turned out that the parts of Rory that took after Lorelai were bigger than Emily could have ever realized. And look where it had landed them. When Lorelai had told her on the phone that not only had she found Rory, but that she was pregnant, Emily's heart had instantly been both repaired and rebroken. All of her hopes and dreams restored and re-shattered. All of her fears relieved and revived.

When she'd told Richard—after dinner the last time they'd seen their granddaughter—to imagine Logan's blond hair and Rory's blue eyes on a baby, she hadn't meant now. She'd meant after college, after they'd gotten married, after they were prepared. They weren't prepared for this. And that was only proven by their immature and reckless actions these past several months.

But Emily was just going to have to get over that. She was going to have to set aside her hurt and her disappointment and her anger. Because if there was one thing she knew above all else, it was that she couldn't go through losing her family again. She couldn't miss out on seeing another grandchild grow up in this world. She'd learned her lesson the hard way…more than once. Of course, biting her tongue wasn't exactly her forte. But she would find a way. Richard on the other hand? Her husband was one of the calmest, most assured, most even-tempered men she knew. But when he did get angry, it was a sight to behold. And Richard was angry. She could tell because he'd locked himself in his office after the phone call last night and he'd barely said a word the entire drive to Boston this morning. When her husband withdrew, a storm was brewing.

The elevator ding pierced the air and the doors slid open. Richard tightened his grasp on her hand—not in the reassuring way she'd gripped his just a few moments ago. This gesture was forceful and unyielding as he piloted Emily down the hallway.

"Richard. Richard, wait." She stopped walking and felt her arm almost be removed from the socket as he continued to stampede single mindedly ahead, completely oblivious to the fact that she was no longer following. The wrenching of arms got his attention and he finally turned to look at her. Really look at her—in the eye. His blue orbs were steely and cold, but after 40 years of marriage, she could see past the icy front to the heart-rending pain that lay beneath them. "What are you going to say when you get in there?"

"What am I going to say?" he barked incredulously.

"Yes. I want to know what you intend to say to our sick, pregnant granddaughter who we haven't seen or spoken to in six months."

"We haven't seen or spoken to her in six months because she ran away, Emily!" he pointed out.

"Exactly. She ran away. She got pregnant and ran away. Just like her mother before her. And I, for one, am not about to let it happen again. I will not lose her again, Richard. Do you hear me? I will not wait sixteen years to get to know our great-grandson. Quite frankly, we're not getting any younger and we might not have sixteen years to waste."

"That girl put us through hell." Richard stabbed his finger downward through the air. "She put her mother through hell. Her father. She's supposed to know better. She's not a child anymore. As an adult, you don't just get to run away from the consequences of your actions. Maybe if someone had bothered to stop coddling her for five minutes, she would have learned that lesson before she got pregnant and threw her life away."

"And that is exactly what you will not say to her in that room."

"So what? I'm just supposed to stand there and smile and pretend what she did is okay? And then what? She continues to do whatever she wants with no regard to how her actions affect others? This isn't a popularity contest, Emily, the girl is about to be a mother. She needs a little hard truth in her life."

"So help me god, Richard, if you push that girl away again, I will never forgive you for it."

Richard's mouth pulled into a hard line and he crossed his arms against his chest. It was a reluctant acquiescence, but it would have to do for now. Emily nodded and they continued their trek down the hall towards Rory's room.

The door was closed. She stood in front of it, squaring her shoulders and plastering a smile on her face. It didn't take much; the gesture had so been ingrained into her it was second nature, but it was usually reserved for the Constance Bettertons of the world. She hated that she had to use it around Rory. She pushed the door open and made her way in. All eyes in the room immediately turned to face her. Rory was sitting up in the bed, an ugly, blue wool blanket was pulled up to her chest but failed to hide the undeniable swell of her stomach. She was wearing one of those hideous hospital gowns. Had Lorelai not bothered to bring her a regular night gown? How was Rory supposed to be comfortable in that grotesque, polyester nightmare? Was a robe too much to ask for?

"Grandma. Grandpa." Rory's eyes were wide and startled like a deer being caught unaware in the meadow by a fox.

"Rory, Dear. How are you feeling?" She noticed Rory's hand clench tighter around Logan's who was sitting in a chair to the right of her on the far side of the room. "Logan," she greeted coldly, doing little to hide the disdain for the boy in her voice. She couldn't be outwardly hostile, he was the child's father after all. He came from good breeding and had a good education. And he was at least here by Rory's side. Maybe when the initial shock of all this passed, she'd be in a more forgiving mood, but today, thinly veiled contempt was as much as she could offer.

"Umm…I…umm…better," Rory stuttered nervously, her eyes darting back and forth from Emily to Richard who was still standing by the door with his arms crossed broodily.

"Good, good, that's so good to hear, Dear. Although this room can't be helping. At least it's a private room but could a little sunlight hurt? Some decent linens? Honestly, Lorelai," she addressed her daughter who was on the other side of the bed opposite Logan. "Would it have hurt you to stop for some flowers to brighten up the place? Or maybe a fresh pillowcase?"

"Well gee Mom, I guess I was just a little more focused on getting here then taking a trip to Bed Bath and Beyond."

"It's okay, Grandma. I'm fine, really," Rory insisted politely. Some things never changed. The girl was always too afraid to make waves for her own good.

"It's not fine. People with all manner of contagious diseases have slept on that pillowcase." Emily scrunched up her nose at the thought of it.

"I'm pretty sure the hospital has very thorough disinfection protocols."

"Well, I don't trust them." Emily insisted. "And besides, that material can't be confrontable. We'll pick you up something at the store later. Along with a decent nightgown."

"Oh, well, I'm not sure if I'm allowed to wear…"

"Don't be silly. They can't prohibit you from wearing your own clothes."

"Something comfortable to wear couldn't hurt, Ace," Logan suggested, rubbing Rory's arm gently. He looked up at Emily with a polite smile on his face. "Thank you, Emily." She had to refrain from rolling her eyes at the obvious sucking up he was doing. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Lorelai mockingly mouth the words 'thank you Emily.' Emily usually hated Lorelai's petulance, but she couldn't help but feel a rare occurrence of solidarity with her daughter in that moment

"Oh, yes, of course. Thank you, Grandma," Rory nodded earnestly.

"Where's Christopher?" Emily asked, her eyes darting around the room looking for Rory's father. Could he not be bothered to show up for his daughter even now, after all of this.

"He needed to take Gigi to his Mom's so she could watch her. He'll be back this afternoon." Lorelai assured her.

"Right, Gigi," Emily huffed. The child that had torn her daughter's family apart.

An awkward silence settled over the room. Rory seemed to be eyeing her grandfather uneasily, waiting for him to say something. Anything.

"Well, Richard. Don't you have anything to say to Rory?" Emily asked pointedly.

"I'm not allowed to say, what I have to say," the man grumbled.

"Grandpa," Rory beseeched.

"Richard," Emily warned her husband.

Richard's face pulled tighter, his eyes casting up to the ceiling to avoid eye contact.

"Grandpa, please. I can take it. Just say it."

"Rory, dear. No." Emily assured her. "This isn't the time or place for this. You need to get well right now. Your grandfather loves you and he just wants…"

"No." Rory shook her head vigorously, tears starting to pool in her eyes. "No. Now is exactly the time. I just, I screwed up. I know I screwed up and I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I never wanted to disappoint you."

"Rory…" Lorelai tried to interject but Rory ignored her and kept going, her words getting faster and more frantic.

"The last thing I ever wanted to do was disappoint you," she sniffled. "I wanted more than anything to prove to you, to all of you that I was worth it. That I was worth all the pain and sacrifice. That I could make it all worth it. But then I went and did the one thing I was never supposed to do and then Mitchum told me I didn't have what it took to be a journalist and I knew I'd failed." The tears were rolling down her cheeks now and it broke Emily's heart. "I'd failed at journalism. I'd failed at not getting pregnant. I'd failed at not being a disappointment. And I just couldn't face you. I couldn't let you see how badly I'd screwed it all up. I couldn't make you go through all that all over again. To have to see me throw away everything after all you'd done for me. I just couldn't do it. I couldn't disappoint you. And so, I convinced myself that you'd be better off not knowing. You'd be better off without me. But really, I was just too scared to face you. I was a coward. A coward and a disappointment and I know I just made everything worse, and I'm so sorry and I don't know how you can ever forgive me."

Logan was trying to soothe her, rubbing her arm gently and whispering calming words in her ear. Lorelai looked shell shocked; frozen in horror at seeing her daughter's pain and not knowing how to help her. Emily knew the feeling well and she felt the pain of both her daughter and her granddaughter in that moment and it was almost unbearable.

Richard had made his way up next to the bed. His scowl had melted away and she could see the heartbreak in his eyes as well. He never could stay mad at Rory; not for a minute. That girl had him wrapped around her finger. Ever since that day at the club five years ago, Richard had been undeniably taken by his granddaughter. He reached down to awkwardly pat her foot. "There, there," he told her. "It's all going to be alright."

"I'm so sorry," Rory wailed again.

They all just stood there, listening to Rory sob, unsure what to do. Finally, Emily made her way up next to the bed, pushing herself between Lorelai and Rory and she reached for her granddaughter's hand, grasping it in hers.

"Rory, listen to me." Rory sniffled, using her other hand to swipe at her tears and she turned to face her grandmother. "Do you remember that dinner with Straub and Francine?"

Rory grimaced and nodded her hear. "Do you remember what I told you in the kitchen afterward?" This time she just stared blankly. "I told you that you were not a disappointment. Not your person, not your existence. I meant it then, and I mean it now. Are we disappointed in the choices you've made recently? Absolutely. But you, my dear, you are not a disappointment. You are a blessing. And we may be mad right now, but none of that changes how we feel about you and how happy we are to have you back. Do you hear me?"

Rory sniffled again, nodding her head and squaring her shoulders. "Good. Now let's just make sure you're taken care of. We can discuss how we're going to deal with all this later, once Logan's parents get here."

Emily immediately noticed Logan's head shoot up, his eyes wide with shock. "My parents?" he asked in disbelief.

"Of course," she Emily shot him a look of her own. What did he expect? He was a part of this too. He didn't want to face the consequences of his own actions? Too bad. "They're on their way. I called your mother this morning."

"I'm sorry, you did what?"