Her Second Chance

Disclaimer: I own nearly nothing. The characters belong to Amy Sherman – Palladino, except Lilly, who's my own creation. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit will be made from this story.

Author's Note: This is a story told from Emily's POV. It's a little AU and takes place some years after Lorelai left her.

I want to thank my great beta caffeination, who helped me with grammar and answered my questions. Your work is much appreciated.

I dedicate this story to Inca – I'll miss you, when you're away.

Chapter 1: The Mall

I'm on my usual way through the mall. Not that I need anything, but shopping turns my mind off things I don't want to think about. And I like to try on new dresses, looking out for jewellery hoping to get exactly the piece I want for our next anniversary. And thanks to my husband's generosity I can buy everything I want, though I do get some comments from time to time. But that's much better than the restricted money most women get from their husbands.

Three dresses, two skirts and a blouse later, I decide that it's time to go home, but then something catches my eye. A young girl is sitting in front of a store begging for money. Usually I hate such a sight. They shouldn't allow them to be here disturbing people, it's not like there aren't enough churches and organisations who would help them. Hell, I even belong to some organizations like that. Why can't these people go there? Why do they have to sit here ruining the shopping? I think technically it isn't allowed, but as long as no one complains, they'll continue to beg. I thought of complaining before, but not this time. This time it's different. The girl has dark long curls, piercing blue eyes and she's pregnant. Very pregnant. I know immediately of whom she reminds me. She doesn't seem much older either.

She doesn't say a thing. At least she doesn't annoy people with her begging. She just sits there, an old hat in front of her and does nothing.

I realize that I'm slowing down as I pass her and I even look at her for longer than a second. As soon as our eyes meet, she looks down again. When I decide that this once I can make an exception and give her some money, I've gone well past her. I don't know what it is (well, to be honest, I do know exactly what makes me turn around - her looks, and the person of whom she reminds me), but I pretend that I have forgotten something at a store so that I have to pass her again. This time I have a $5 bill in my hand which I quickly put in her hat, which holds mostly $1 bills and some coins. She looks at me, surprise in her eyes, and while I'm walking away, I hear her say, "Thank you."

This 'Thank you' echoes in my head all the way home. It kind of haunts me. 'Thank you' for $5. I easily could have given her more. But what does she do with the money? What does she do anyway? Where does she sleep? What does she eat? How will she take care of her baby? She can't have a good education. And most importantly, why am I still thinking about her? Maybe I shouldn't have given her anything, but I know then my thoughts would haunt me even more.

It doesn't help that Richard is away on a business trip and I'm all alone in this house. When he calls, he seems to sense that something is wrong, but I deny it. What should I tell him, anyway? 'Richard, I saw a pregnant beggar, who reminds me of our daughter?' Certainly not.

Even in my dreams I can see her, and in them she looks even more like Lorelai. Suddenly I see Lorelai and a toddler, starving and wearing dirty clothes. I wake up startled, with cold sweat all over my body. I haven't seen my girls in ages. No, I have to stop this. It was her decision. She didn't want my help and I can't change that. If I start to think of her now - what she's doing, how she looks - I'll go crazy again.

The next day I go to the mall again. This time I'm not looking for dresses or jewellery; this time I'm looking for her. I have to know how she is, if she's still there. I'm surprised at how relieved I am to see her still sitting there. Passing her I put a little note in her hat and immediately slow my steps to give her time to read it:

If you're hungry, follow me.

From the corner of my eye I see her surprised look and how she unfolds the paper. She looks at me unbelievingly and I nod shortly to her before walking in the direction of the next bistro. I see, or rather, I feel when she stands up and follows me.

A minute later, she steps into the little bistro. I took a table which can't be seen from outside, but none of my friends would come here anyway. Still I don't need to be seen with her. She approaches me shyly, looking lost.

"Sit down," I encourage her and she obeys. We look at each other for a second before she looks down again. "What would you like to eat?" I ask her.

Finally she dares to look at me again and I see her big blue eyes looking at me puzzled.

"Why are you doing this, ma'am?" she asks me.

"Aren't you hungry?" I counter.

"Yes," she admits, still looking at me questioningly.

"You should eat properly, in your condition," I state simply and she immediately caresses her belly. "Orange juice would be good for you; it has vitamins. Would you like some orange juice?"

"Yes, ma'am," she replies, now looking at me gratefully.

I nod. When the waiter arrives I order two orange juices, fruit salad and some bagels for us. She's not saying anything and I don't know what to say either. Why did I do this? It's ridiculous. But every time I look into her eyes and see her hand on her belly, I know why I'm doing this.

"What's your name?" I demand.

"Lilly," she responds quietly.

"Lilly…?" I want to inquire further.

"Just call me Lilly, please," she says softly. To be honest, it's more a demand. This young girl really is something special, that she has the guts to demand anything in her situation. But she does it in a gentle way, so I'm not offended by it. Still, she doesn't want me to know her full name. Maybe she ran away, too? Maybe Lilly isn't even her name. She looks at me as if she wants to get up and leave, as if she's scared that this is a trap.

"All right," I say quickly, and add, "that's a beautiful name." I don't dare ask her more until our breakfast arrives. While she's busy eating, I again try my luck at getting her to talk.

"How old are you, Lilly?"

"16," she answers defiantly. Just as I thought. I smile lightly at her, and she continues eating.

"What are you doing?" She looks at me confused. I decide to jump right in now. "Do you have a home, a job? How will you support your baby?"

Her eating slows down and she tries to hide a tear that escapes her eye. But she doesn't answer any of my questions. I look at her. She could be a beauty, but despite her belly, she's too thin. And her eyes, her Lorelai-like eyes, aren't happy at all.

"Where did you sleep tonight?" I quietly ask.

She looks at me, searching my eyes for trust. After a while, she whispers, "In the mall."

"But they close the mall and all the stores." I try to reason with her, but even while I'm saying it, I know that this didn't stop her. She probably waited somewhere to be locked in. She slowly resumes eating the rest of her salad. When she's finished she gives me a sincere look.

"Thank you, Mrs. …" and it's then that I notice that even though I interrogated her, she doesn't know anything about me. Not even my name.

"Gilmore," I say quickly.

"Thank you, Mrs. Gilmore," she says again. "I don't know when's the last time I had a breakfast as good as this one. Thank you." With that, she starts to get up, but I hold her back.

"What did you do with the $5?" I inquire. I thought about that for half the night. I just have to know.

"I bought some shampoo and went to the indoor swimming pool to shower," she replies and I notice that her curls do look better than yesterday. "Thank you," she adds again.

I begin to feel ashamed. I didn't ask to get another 'Thank you', but because I was curious what she'd need most. She looks at me expectantly, as if waiting politely for my next question. I'm struggling about what to do. But before I can decide for sure, she asks me softly, "May I leave now, Mrs. Gilmore? You know, the store I sit in front of is the best heated store around here and I don't want to loose my place. Plus the owner doesn't chase me out."

Even more touched, I quickly say, "Of course you may leave, Lilly." I can't bring myself to add something that I'll regret for the rest of the day.

She stands up, nods at me and thanks me again for my generosity. I'm thinking about giving her another $5, but I see some pride in her eyes and I leave it as it is. I look after her, her dirty dress and pantyhose with holes and her pregnant belly.

After paying, I leave the mall and when I look at her place I'm relieved that no one else is already sitting there. She smiles at me and I leave the mall. But not without stopping to get myself new perfume first.