Disclaimer: This is an original story based upon the characters of Gilmore Girls. No copyright infringement is intended, and no profit will be made from this story.

Author's Note: Thank you to all who reviewed the last chapter. I really appreciate you taking the time to tell me what you think. I hope you'll enjoy this next segment.

"Mom, what are we looking for?" Rory asked, opening her second box marked "Emily's Things," in the big dusty basement.

"I'll know it when I see it," I replied, opening another box and starting to go through it.

"Oookay Kevin Costner," she replied, sitting down Indian style on the floor and starting to go through the box.

I brought my box over to her and sat down next to her. It was just the two of us now. Dad and Luke had started to help us, but they had retreated upstairs for something to eat. I think Dad just couldn't handle going through Mom's things yet and I didn't blame him. I hadn't told him about the dream. I knew he'd probably think it was ridiculous. I just told him there was something of Mom's I wanted to find. Who knew what the letters were anyway?

I never wanted to hurt Daddy

What did she mean by that?

"What's your box?" Rory asked, and I realized I hadn't started looking through mine yet. There was a faded plaid jumper on the top, folded perfectly and underneath were a few old school books plus twelve or thirteen composition notebooks with "Emily Haines" written neatly on the top of them. I smiled and flipped through some of them, there were ones for math, a science notebook, a few were filled with different essays she'd written, and some were penmanship. I had to chuckle,

"Mom was a bigger packrat than I am. These are some of her old school books, her old uniform, and she even kept her homework!"

Rory smiled and shook her head. "I think mine is stuff from their wedding." I scooted mine back over to the "looked at" pile and turned my attention towards hers. Maybe "the letters" would be in there. There was a bunch of wedding announcements—the extras, we guessed. There were a few dried roses, some pearl tipped corsage pins, and a stack of "Richard and Emily Forever" napkins. There was nothing there.

We both stood up and took another box off the stack. "How long are we going to look?" Rory asked.

"Until I find it," I replied.

"Mom—maybe it was just a really weird dream," she said gently. I turned to look at her.

"I don't think so Honey," I replied, picking up another large box and setting it down on the floor.

"Rory—look at this," I said and she came over. In the box was a trunk and when I opened the trunk there was a beautiful porcelain doll with long dark curly hair. She was dressed in a purple velvet traveling suit, with tiny white gloves, a hat, and a parasol.

"Wow," Rory said. There was a small card attached to the trunk and I opened it and read, "To my little girl who loves pretty and elegant things. Happy Birthday Emmy—Love Mama" I carefully lifted the doll out, imagining that she had probably been put away the day my mom had been forced to grow up. Under the doll was a small key and it was then that I noticed the other side of the trunk had a keyhole in it and it was wooden—like a locked closet. I put the key in the tiny hole and the door opened. Inside were ten or twelve more outfits. There were two silk party dresses, one white and one pink, a bridal gown, with a veil, a riding outfit, three dresses made out of gingham and three pinafores to go with them, a Christmas dress made out of red taffeta, a pink fur winter coat, a silk nightgown and a furry robe, and a witch Halloween costume. There were also a dozen pairs of shoes, tights, and a ton of other accessories, miniature hairpins, hats, scarves, gloves, a fur muff and cape, and a lace parasol. Opening another compartment of the trunk I found small set of china dishes, three or four miniature lace tablecloths, an exact replica of the doll but in a doll's doll size and miniature books that were made to look like the real things, only smaller.

"Geez," Rory said, "Where was this doll when I was growing up?" she asked. I shook my head, "I don't know where this doll was when I was growing up," I replied. "I've never seen it before." We carefully placed the doll back in the trunk and put it next to the boxes we had already seen.

For another hour we went through the basement boxes and I could find what I was looking for. Most of it was stuff from her growing up years and though I had come across birthday cards, letters her parents had sent her from trips, nothing resembled the letters Mom had handed me in her dream. It was time to go through the things in Mom's special room.

"How's it going?" Dad asked as we came up from the basement.

"Just fine," I replied.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" he asked.

"No, we're going to try upstairs now."

He looked down at the floor and paused for a minute before answering, "Alright," he said, "Just don't break anything," he replied slowly.

"What are you and Luke doing?" I asked, trying to give him an out from his emotions. He brightened up and smiled as if he were a child trying something new for the first time.

"Well, Luke was in the study and turned on the television. He found an old football game on, Lorelai—did you know there is a station on television where they just show sports? Well anyway, I sat down for a few minutes and it looked intriguing. So, I just went down to the kitchen to tell Genevieve to bring our lunch into the study and we are going to watch the game," he said smiling. Rory and I smiled at each other. Who would have thought two years ago that Dad and Luke would one day watch a football game together.

"Well, have fun!" I said shaking my head. Rory turned and headed upstairs. I turned back to Dad, "I don't know how I feel about my father and my husband being in cahoots," I said smiling.

He smiled back, "Oh, I don't know how I feel about you saying the word cahoots."

I patted his arm, "Have fun Dad" and headed upstairs.

I expected Rory to already be in the room, she knew where the key was. But when I got there, she was standing at the door, as if she was afraid to go in. I placed a hand on her back, reached up for the key and together we stepped in. Rory shook her head as if to command herself to stop crying. I just put my arm around her.

"It smells like her," she whispered softly.

I smiled, "Yeah, it does." I replied. We headed over to a corner in the room. The room was filled with different chests, some smaller and some larger, and there were a few boxes stacked neatly along the wall as well. Rory started with one of the chests and I started with a box. I watched as Rory lifted the top to a chest. Inside it was filled of fancy ball gowns, boxes of long white gloves, and three or four jewelry boxes filled with diamond necklaces, pearls, and cameos.

My box was full of candlesticks, gold ones, silver ones, ivory, and a pair of pewter elephants, whose trunk was the candlesticks. There must have been at least thirteen or fourteen pairs.

"Grandma sure did love elegant things didn't she?" Rory said.

Suddenly, the words from my dream jumped into my head, "The things that I loved destroyed me." Could that be what she was talking about?

"Mom, come here," Rory said suddenly and I stood up and went over to her. She was lifting down a box from the stack.

"Look at this," Rory said, pointing to the top of the box. It was addressed to Emily Gilmore, and the return address was from Mia Moore.

"What?" I said, reaching down to open it. The inside was filled with pictures. There were baby pictures of Rory—ones that I had had taken at Wal-mart, and ones I had taken myself, in the bath, playing outside on the lawn, her first step, her first Christmas, her first birthday. There were pictures of me too, me posing crazily in my maid uniform, standing outside the shed in the back of the inn with my arm proudly extended towards my first home. There were pictures of us together throughout the years, Halloween, birthdays, Christmas. Pictures of the entire missing sixteen years were there. When had Mia sent these? As far as I knew, Mom and Mia had never met. Had Mia been cleaning out her closet one day and decided to get rid of them? Had she just all of a sudden decided to communicate with Mom? For whatever reason, Mia had sent these pictures to Mom and as Rory and I looked through them together, it reminded us of the old days and it seemed as though the wall that had been built up between us was loosing more and more bricks.

"Wow," Rory said. "I wonder when Mia sent these."

"I don't know," I replied, picking up a few more pictures and smiling at them before turning my attentions to another chest. This was another one dedicated to me—to the baby years. My christening dress was laid on top—the grape juice stain barely noticeable—she never let me live that one down. There was a white box underneath it, with the words, "Lorelai's outfit she wore when she came home from the hospital," I opened it up and found an incredibly small pink dress, with pink crochet booties, and a matching hat. I smiled, even my first time out in public, I had to be the most immaculately dressed kid on the block. There was a box of pictures, ones that I had never seen before—why was that? There were ones of Mom showing off her large stomach, of Dad with his arms around her and his hands resting on her stomach, there was a crazy one with Dad having a pillow stuffed under his shirt, with his hands on his back and a pained expression on his face, next to him was Mom doubling over with laughter. There were pictures of Mom lying in the hospital bed, holding me, playing with my hands, pictures of the two of them together holding me, and there were a ton of pictures of us at home. There was one of me in the high chair, Mom holding me in the rocking chair, Dad holding me while he read the paper. I felt like I was in the twilight zone again.

There were a few toys—a rattle and a worn looking blue bear. There was a fraying at the edges baby blanket, more clothes, and at the bottom of the chest was a baby book. I had never seen this either. I looked through the pages, looking at the various dates she had written in under "First tooth," "First step", "First word—Mama" I looked at various pictures she had pasted in of me in the hospital. There was one page where the mother pasted in the journal entry from when the child was born. There was a well-worn page pasted in and I sat back to read it.

My beautiful baby girl was born today. Just an hour ago actually. The doctor told me I should be resting, but I had to write a few words of how I feel. I can't take my eyes off of her—she's so perfect! I love her so much all ready. I felt Mom with me all through the delivery. Richard's mom is coming in a few hours, but I am so happy right now all I care about is my sleeping angel baby in the crib and my darling darling man passed out on the armchair next to me. I am the luckiest woman in the world today. I have my Richard, and I have my darling little…

This was weird. The next words was scribbled out in black pen so there was no possible way to read what she had written. Underneath Lorelai Victoria was written. How weird was that? I started reading it again, touched by the words Mom had written when suddenly in a low voice, Rory said "Um Mom,"

I turned to look at her and saw she had moved one of the chests she had already been through and was looking on the floor. I stood up and moved towards her. There, laying on the floor was a stack of letters—THE letters. I knelt down and picked them up. Rory knelt down beside me.

"What on earth?" Rory asked as she saw the tops of the letters. I simply said nothing. There were about twenty five letters all together. All of them were addressed to Mom. On some, the return address was Mrs. Lorelai Gilmore, London England—Gran, and on some the return address was Ms. Pennilyn Lott, and then Mrs. Pennilyn Garrity.

Rory and I just looked at each other. What were these?

"Excuse me, would you too like some lunch?" Dad asked, standing at the doorway.

I never wanted to hurt Daddy—the words came back into my head. I just turned around and stared at him.

"What is it?" Dad asked.

TBC—SOON!