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

Author's Note: Thank you so much for all of your reviews! I appreciate it so much! I hope you all enjoy this next chapter! This was a sad one to write. I have to do some reality tweaking though or this chapter won't have as much as an effect. For the purposes of this story, Emily never found the letter in the basement written to Richard on their wedding night. It can still have been written, Emily just never found it.

"What is it?" Dad asked again, apparently knowing from my face that something was up. He put down the tray he was carrying and walked towards me putting on his glasses. I debated for a minute whether I should hide the letters from him--read them myself first before telling him. But I just sat there on the floor and showed him the letters as if I was three and showing him a candy bar I'd stolen from the store or something. He didn't seem too surprised when he saw the ones from Gran, but his eyes grew wide when he saw the ones from Pennilyn.

"What?" he whispered in shock. He stared at the letters for a minute and then set them down on the chest.

"Come eat your lunch," he whispered to Rory and me.

I stood up, "Dad...we need to read those letters."

He shook his head, "Leave it Lorelai." he replied.

I reached over and put my hand on his shoulder. "Dad, we need to read those letters. Trust me. Do you know what they are about?"

He was looking down at the floor now and shaking his head. "I had no idea my mother was writing Emily and I certainly would have never guessed that Pennilyn was."

I picked up the stack of letters and opened the first one. It was postmarked 1965—the year they got married. I opened it up and sat down on one of the chests. I read to myself at first, and when I choked out my first sob, both Rory and Dad said simultaneously to read it out loud.

Dear Emily, I began

Welcome to the family. Your wedding was a very nice occasion. I am writing this letter to tell you that you are a part of the family now, and as you have no mother of your own I hope you will turn to me when you need a mother. That having been said, I wish to give you some advice. Your hair is much too dark Dear, Richard prefers blond women. You might want to do something about that. Furthermore, you slouch when you walk, and that is very unbecoming. You must understand I am only saying this for your own good, because I care about you and want you to fit in. Also, I just wanted to tell you, I know you have a sister that has made some scandalous choices in her life and currently resides in Paris. I just wanted to make it clear that under no circumstances is she invited to any Gilmore function that I am presiding over. Do I make myself clear? Again, I am only doing this because I care about you. You don't want Richard to be embarrassed do you?

I will close for now Daughter,

Love, Mother Gilmore

"Oh my gosh," Rory said quietly. I looked up at Dad. He was just staring out the window. I opened the next letter and read,

Dear Emily,

I don't mean to intrude my child, but I was noticing on my last visit that Richard is very thin. You do make sure he has three meals a day don't you Dear? Also, you really should keep your house neater. You do know that Richard demands an impeccable household don't you? I hate to be the one to tell you this Dear, but Richard has spoken to me about your household running skills and I have to say that he is very embarrassed. Of course he would never say anything, but I thought it would be best if you knew.

Love Mother Gilmore

"That's not true," Dad said in a horrified whisper. "I never...I never..."

Slowly I opened the next letter, and the next one-- letter after letter, filled with sweet poison, demeaning Mom about everything. Why wasn't she holding more functions? Why wasn't she home more when Richard got home from work? Why wasn't she pregnant yet? Little by little, the fake sweetness dropped, the "I'll be your Mom," act stopped and she became more and more cruel.

Dear Emily,

My last visit I was shocked and disturbed to find that you had hired a nanny for my granddaughter but that you still insist on spending so much time with the child. Richard has complained to me time and time again that you spend all your time with the child and no time accompanying him to his social functions. He thinks you love that child more than him. Emily, stop trying to be something that you're not. You're not that kind of a mother. You just don't have what it takes to be that kind of a mother. That's what a nanny is for. Let the nanny do all the ridiculous things you take on yourself. You are there to provide for the child. That is your role. I suggest you do something or you will ruin your relationship with Richard forever. You can not be in the Gilmore world and expect to be June Brady or whatever the ridiculous woman's name was. You will fail. Leave lorelai's raising to the nannies. That is all I'll say about it for now.

Love,

Mother Gilmore.

I looked up at DadHe looked horrified, "Lorelai, I never thought that. I never thought that she didn't love me when you came. I never, ever thought that."

I nodded, "I know Dad," I looked up at Rory who was wiping tears from her eyes and then I turned back to Dad. "The next one's from Pennilyn, are you okay Dad? Do you want me to stop," he shook his head. "No," he whispered and I opened up the next letter. It too was written the year they were married and was also filled with empty promises of friendship. Had Gran and Pennilyn been in league with each other—trying to break Mom and Dad up?

Dear Em,

You don't mind if I call you that do you? I just wanted to tell you there are no hard feelings. I realize now, that even though Richard and I have loved each other, for as long as I can remember, you are the one he's chosen, and that's alright by me. I hope we can be friends. If you ever want to talk, please pick up the phone.

Your friend,

Lynnie Lott

The sweetness act only lasted a few letters with Pennilyn—then he true colors started coming out. The letters were vicious and mean, I couldn't believe this was the same woman I had met at the game that year. She had seemed so nice. Soon the letters changed from Miss Pennilyn Lott, to Mrs. Pennilyn Garrity. I kept reading. Dad was shaking. Rory came and put her arms around him.

Em,

You do know that Richard is still in love with me right? You do know that the only reason why he married you was because he felt sorry for you and your sick sister. I was talking to a mutual friend of Richard's and I's the other day and he said that Richard told him that he is so embarrassed of you but he feels that it is his duty to stand by you. That's my Richard, always doing his duty even if it is killing him slowly. You are not Gilmore material. You never have been and you never will be. Everybody knows that, they just can't say it to your face. Call me Hon, maybe I can give you some pointers.

Lynnie

P.S. Not like it's my place to say anything, but you've been married for over a year now. I have been married for six months and found out today that I am pregnant with my first child. You might want to go to the doctor to see if something is wrong with you. It would be such a shame if there was. Richard and I talked extensively about the children we were going to have when we were engaged. I would hate to think he'd have to give up on another one of his dreams because he married you.

"No...No..." Dad was shaking his head and clenching his hands together. "That's not true!" he cried out.

"Dad, should I stop?" I asked. There's only a few more left. Do you want me to stop? But he shook his head.

"No, your mother had to read every single one of those letters alone. I am not going to turn away now."

I opened the next letter—apparently shortly after I was born, talking about how "Richard" had always wanted a son and since it took "Em" so long to conceive the firs child, there was little chance that he was going to get his boy. The next letter was criticizing Mom's skills as a mother—she and Gran must have collaborated together on that one. Finally, I opened the last letter.

Em,

This is the last letter I'm going to write to you. Richard has resigned himself to his fate, the choice he made, no matter how much he regrets it now, and I must do the same. I have never loved Stephen, and I never will, but like Richard, I must do my duty. I hope you will live forever with the knowledge in your heart Emily Gilmore that Richard loves me. He was engaged to me, and he told me that he wanted to be together forever. You were the one who seduced him. You took him away from what he really wanted—which was me. I can tell, by the way he looks at me when I see him that he is still in love with me. I can see his regret. I can see his embarrassment when he looks at you. I hope you die with that knowledge on your heart. Maybe then, Richard can finally be happy.

Pennilyn

With something between a snarl and a sob, Dad tore out of the chair he was sitting on and lunged for the letter. He tore it up, shredding it.

"No!" he yelled viciously. "No, it's not true! It's not true!"

Instantly Rory and I had our arms around him. He broke down sobbing, making no attempt to hold onto his emotions.

"It's not true, it's not true!" he yelled again and this time looked up at the ceiling. "How could you believe that!" he yelled ferociously. "I loved you more than life itself! How could you believe that?" He picked up the bundle of letters and viciously began to tear them up one by one. "Why didn't she tell me?" he asked between chocked sobs. "Why didn't she tell me that was happening?"

I shook my head, "I don't know Daddy." I said. I really didn't know. Why hadn't Mom shown Dad the letters? Did she think he wouldn't believe her? Did she think that if he confronted Gran and Pennilyn about them that they would deny it? Maybe she did believe it, that she wasn't good enough for Dad, and tried again and again to please Gran. When that had seemed impossible, she had simply found away to bury herself so deeply that she could go on. Little by little, in the name of wanting to be perfect, wanting to fit in, she had become exactly what she was expected to, a socialite matron—with no time for pink hats, twirling dresses and snow. The little girl whose doll was locked away in the basement, the one who loved pretty things, had evolved into a woman who obsessed about candle sizes and individual bags for cheeses. And little by little, she had buried the hurt she felt, the pain of loosing herself underneath an exterior of control and meanness. And the real Emily had been buried alive, only to show herself when the exterior Emily allowed it—doing a little dance on the stage at a fashion show, elbowing me to show her excitement at pedicure tubs in the same room together, with the possibility of a talk—crying at my graduation.

I knelt down beside Dad, and took his hand in mine. "Dad," I choked out. "I was there when she died. She knew the truth. She loved you so much, and she knew that you loved her. She knew that."

He nodded slowly, wiping away his tears. I helped him to stand up and Rory put her arm around him.

"Why don't you take him downstairs and eat lunch. There's something I need to do."

I placed a reassuring hand on Dad's shoulder and hurried downstairs. Luke came walking in to the hall. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"I'll tell you later," I said, "Rory and Dad are coming down for lunch. Dad's pretty shook up. I'll be back soon."

"Where are you going?" he asked as I opened up a cupboard in the hall and took out the phone book.

"I'll be back soon" I said again and hurried out the door. I jumped in the jeep and opened up the phone book scanning until I came for the name I was looking for.

"Garrity, Stephen and Pennilyn,"

I started up the car and sped down the road.