TROUVAILLE ... l.danes (REWRITE)

chapter fifty-two; the present

A DOG THAT BITES

two-thousand-and-four

WITH CHRISTMAS passing, the birth grows ever closer.

Shelley tries to ignore the new pains in her back and ankles, the way her body grows tired with every passing second, the way she naps way more often than she used to. She has Andrew running the bookstore while she's on maternity leave, otherwise, she'd be falling asleep at the desk, warmed by the heater she keeps hidden beneath the desk, soothed by the soft jazz CDs she bought from a thrift store a few months back. But, she misses it. Misses being surrounded by all these books. Misses everyone's smiling faces, and all their questions about the baby, and all their grilling about Luke.

Now, she's stuck in the house. She tries not to be. She tries to go to the diner for lunch or dinner, tries to visit Olive in Weston's, tries to meet up with Lorelai, tries to visit Davey and Sookie. But, she just gets so tired so quickly. So, some days, she curls up on the couch and sleeps the day away.

That's her plan for today. She woke up, washed her face, made breakfast and grabbed a blanket to curl up on the couch. The TV is already playing a random rom-com on the Hallmark channel and her decaf coffee is starting to warm up her veins. But, a crash comes from the staircase behind her and then the familiar sound of Luke cursing at the baby gates he'd installed a couple of weeks ago. He keeps getting caught in them. She does not.

"Again?"

"I hate this fucking thing."

Shelley giggles as she crosses over to open the baby gate for her boyfriend. He brushes down his flannel and, when he thinks she isn't watching, flips off his worst enemy.

"How many times have I shown you? It's push down then lift."

"Yeah. Yeah. I'll get the hang of it." He notices she's still in her pajamas – a pair of plaid bottoms and a t-shirt of his he thought he lost – and frowns a little. "Sorry, I can't stick around. Lane's moved in with Rory and I can't leave Caesar by himself. Are you gonna stop by for lunch?"

"Maybe."

He nods. He wants her out of the house as much as possible, soaking up as much winter sun as she can before the baby comes, because god knows how often she'll stay inside after that. She knows this. She makes a mental note that she will go to the diner for lunch. Original plans be damned.

Luke's hand cups her cheek and he presses a soft kiss to her temple.

"Don't do too much. I love you."

She echoes his statement and watches him leave. The door swings shut behind him and it is just her in the house. Again. Nobody told her that pregnancy felt so lonely. All these people have lives and jobs and can go out without worrying about their bladder filling up too fast. But she is stuck in this house – that she loves so much, despite staring at the same four walls day after day – and she's afraid she's never going to get out. No matter how many times she visits Luke, or Olive, or Lorelai. She will always get too tired to really enjoy it.

She climbs the stairs so she can take a shower and has to stop as soon as she reaches the landing above, hand on the wall, sucking in breaths that scratch at her throat. Nobody told her just how less she would feel. Less her. Less whole. Less like she is living and more like she is merely a carrier of something far greater.