An Author's Post Rolling Out of Bed Mumblings- Hello all! I'm posting again. Three posts in as many weeks, wow! I must be growing up! Another day, another update, and an angsty one at that! I've never really written anything angsty before, so please, let me know what you think. I'm open to criticism, as long as it is constructive. If you want to tell me that I suck, use the email, please!

To the bestest beta in the land, my Sara, (Shouhei). Once again, she instills the confidence in me to step outside of my comfort zone and venture off in a new direction! She is awesome, as a beta, a friend, and an author! Go and read anything of hers and be completely satisfied, but I'd reccomend 'Thigh Highs', it's pretty steamy, plus, it's a trory!

And to my 100th reviewer, my beautful baby sister, Erin (mangoes2oo5) I love you Zibby, you are awesome for making me a member of the triple digit club!

Yes, all those readers who are wondering who Graham is, yes, you will find out during the 'deschmuckification' process that he goes through. I needed to redeem him a little, for he is going to be making a lot of appearances in the story from now on.

Anyhoo, enough of the chit chat, READ!!!!


Chapter Eight- Screaming Infidelities

"So, how's your summer been so far?"

Rory's head snapped in Graham's direction at the sound of his lame question. Why was he talking to her? What could they possibly have to say to each other? He was the last person that she really wanted to speak to, after Dean and Jess, who had also been a part of her horrible last night on campus.

"Peachy keen."

Graham rolled his eyes at her forced reply. "You don't have to get all snippy, you know."

"I think I have every right to be snippy."

"Why?"

"I'm sorry, do you even remember that night?" Rory asked incredulously. It was emblazoned in her memory, shouldn't it be prominent in his, too?

"Honestly, not very well." Graham sighed, taking a seat on one of the plush couches of the sitting room that he had pushed them into almost a half hour ago. "If you recall, my memory and judgement were a little impaired."

"And whose fault is that?" Rory snapped, narrowing her eyes.

"Mine."

"Give the boy a prize." Rory announced to the near empty room, flopping on the couch across from the one that he was sitting on. His leg was bouncing up and down, up and down. It was growing incessant, and annoying. "Could you stop doing that?"

"Doing what?"

"That."

"Again, you are going to have to be a little more specific."

"That! The leg bobby thing that is driving me crazy!" Rory exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air.

"Oh." He replied, stilling his leg.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." He paused a moment, not sure if he should continue to try and talk to her. "So, you're the girl?"

"Huh?"

"The girl."

"Well, I'm a girl, but I'm sure there are others out there too." Rory answered shortly. Why was he bothering?

"Geez, are you always this rude?" Graham asked her, getting a little annoyed at her.

"I'm so sorry. I'm usually much more polite to drunk drivers."

"For the record, I wasn't the drunk driver, Dan was." Graham pointed out to her. "Not that it mattered to the police much."

"You got arrested?" Rory asked, sitting up on the couch.

"Yep, handcuffs, flashing lights, the works."

"Wow."

"Yeah."

"What happened?"

"Funny thing, drinking impairs your driving skills." Graham began his story. "I mean, one minute, we're laughing, having a good time, and the next, we're running headlong into a tree."

"Oh my God." Rory breathed.

"Yeah."

"Did anyone…"

"Die? No, we all walked away from it. Well, Joey didn't, he broke his leg." Graham assured her. "I'm just grateful that we didn't hit anyone else."

"That is definitely something to be grateful for."

"Yep."

"So, what happened after?"

"Oh, well, that was a doozy." Graham said. "My parents weren't exactly thrilled with the news that their only son had wrapped his car around a tree while he was intoxicated. Dan got the brunt of the charges, because he was the driver, but my mom and dad made sure that I got punished as well."

"What did you have to do?" Rory asked. This was not exactly what she had expected from him after the time they had spent together. He seemed… normal, like he had when her grandmother had first introduced him to her.

"The first thing that my mother did was hack my license in half." Graham told Rory, a sad look on his face. "It had a really great picture, I was really sorry to see it go."

"That's it?! All that happened was that your mommy took away your license?" Rory exclaimed, her face growing hot with anger as she stood up quickly. "You could have killed someone you know."

"Hey, I do know that!" Graham exclaimed, rising to his feet as well. "I have to go to colleges and high schools for the next two years and explain the perils of drunk driving to other kids. I don't want anyone else to make the same stupid mistake that I made. I mean, we could have killed someone, or ourselves."

"Oh." Rory couldn't think of much more to say after that. He had learned his lesson, she was pretty sure of it. The look in his eyes had been one of shame and regret. Maybe he wasn't as vile as she thought he was. After all, Rory didn't have much to base her opinion of him on only the one night that they had 'hung out,' and even that had been marred by the appearance of Dean and Jess.

Graham had gone over to the window, looking out to the ocean in the distance. "I wish that I could take back what I did, but I can't do that. I guess I thought that I was supposed to let loose, and go crazy. Isn't that what all college students do?"

"I wouldn't know." Rory answered, crossing the room to join him. "I'm not really the 'hang loose and go crazy' type. I didn't really party much last year, or in my four years of high school either, for that matter."

"Me either." Graham admitted. "I was a bookworm in high school. My friends and I didn't really party all that much. But when I came to college, I guess I went a little nuts."

"Drunk driving is pretty insane." Rory agreed.

"I kind of wanted a change. I wanted to be someone new, I suppose."

"I can understand that."

"Funny thing is, I kinda liked the old Graham Sullivan more." Graham said softly. "I'm really trying to be him again."

"That's good." Rory couldn't help but feel like she wasn't equipped to handle this conversation. She barely knew Graham, and yet, here she was, standing there as he confided in her. Rory needed to change the subject.

"You know, when Mollie told me that we were going to visit her friend Sully, you were the last person that I thought it would be."

"Oh, God, do I hate that nickname." Graham snorted. "She came up with it when we were kids, and she just won't let it drop."

"Why does she call you that, anyway?" Rory asked, intrigued.

"We were watching TV one day, and she decided to inflict it on me."

"What, was she a Dr. Quinn fan or something?"

"No, actually we were watching Gummi Bears. You know, that old cartoon with the bears that 'bounced from here and there and everywhere?' Well, she decided that I should be Sully, like one of the characters."

"But there wasn't a Sully." Rory said, remembering the cartoon well. Lorelai had loved it, as anything with a catchy musical number and hyper, bouncing cartoon animals was okay with her.

"Yeah. It took her a while to realize that it was Sunni, but by then, she was bored with finding a nickname, and decided to keep it." Graham rolled his eyes. "The only thing that keeps her from using it all the time is because she knows that whenever she does, I call her Doc Ock."

"Why?" Rory asked, warming back up to Mollie and Tristan now that she had figured out that Graham might not be as bad a guy as she had thought.

"You know how her first name is Octavia?" Graham asked, continuing when Rory nodded. "Well, she hates it. So I started calling her Doc Ock, like that villain from the Spiderman comics."

"Nice move." Rory complimented, starting to laugh at the absurdity of both nicknames.

"Thanks." Graham said appreciatively, but looked at her strangely as she started to laugh uncontrollably. "What?"

"She named you after a girl cartoon character." Rory choked out, as her laughter took over.

--&--

"Mollie, what's going on?"

Tristan watched as his cousin paced from one end of the room to the other, muttering under her breath. She turned her head slightly, glancing in his direction for a moment before retuning to her previous activity.

They had been in the conservatory for a long time now, and she still wouldn't talk to him. When Tristan and Lulu had finally been able to break apart the father and daughter from their screaming match, Lulu had pushed Stephen Calloway into the parlor he had been in before, and pointed down the hall to the room that Tristan had forced Mollie in to cool off.

"Molls…" Tristan tried again.

"What, Tristan?" Mollie finally broke the silence. "What do you want me to say?"

"I want you to tell me what's going on!"

"I don't want to talk about it!" Mollie yelled.

"You might not want to, but you have to Molls." Tristan coaxed, trying to help her to lift the burden of her secrets. "It's killing you to keep this bottled up, I can see it in your eyes."

"I hate him." She replied in a small voice.

Tristan thought that maybe he hadn't heard right. Mollie had the kind of relationship with her father that he envied. While he might have both parents living, she had a father who loved her more than life itself, and she had a mother once upon a time who felt the same way.

"Your dad?"

"Yeah, that schmuck."

"Why is he so angry?"

"I got him disinherited." Mollie answered, very matter of fact.

"What?" Tristan was shocked. "Why? How?"

"It wasn't that hard, actually." Mollie said, still walking back and forth. "One call to Grandfather Calloway, and BAM! The gravy train is gone."

"But why would you do that to him?"

"Because, I hate him."

"But you and your dad have a great relationship."

"That was before I found out what he did!" Mollie exclaimed, finally coming to a halt.

"What did he do?" Tristan asked. "What did he do to deserve that?"

"He killed my mother!"

--&--

"So, you've known Tristan and Mollie for a long time, huh?" Rory asked Graham after they had returned to the sofas. Mollie was right, he was pretty funny. Graham had a sharp wit, but had often left himself open for mocking as the conversation went on.

"Yeah, we've all been buddies for like, forever." Graham smiled as memories of their youth filled his mind. "My mom and Mollie's mom were best friends, and so naturally, we hung out a lot."

"And Tristan?"

"Well, Mollie's mom, Isabelle, she was always 'kidnapping' Tristan when we were younger. His parents weren't what you would call, emotionally available."

"Oh."

"But Isabelle Calloway was a pretty cool chick." Graham explained. "She was one of those women who are born to be mothers. We all took it pretty hard when she passed away."

"That was about six, seven years ago, right?"

"Yeah, about then." Graham nodded. "The cancer was pretty bad. Isabelle hated doctors, and she didn't go to see one for a long time. Always afraid that they would find something. By the time that Lulu finally dragged her to one, the cancer was pretty far gone."

"That's so sad."

"Yeah, she was kind of a second mother to all of us. Mollie was really bad after she died. She wouldn't talk about it with anyone. She still won't go into detail about it."

"So, is her dad one of those absentee fathers?" Rory asked, getting angry at the thought. Her own father was barely a part of her life, but at least she had Lorelai. Rory couldn't even imagine her life without her mother.

"That's what so weird." Graham furrowed his brow. "Mollie and her dad are really close. I don't think that she's ever had anything bad to say about the guy in her whole life."

"Well, judging by the string of obscenities that were streaming from her lips, I'd say the tide has changed."

--&--

"What?"

Tristan was dumbfounded. How in the hell had Uncle Stephen killed his aunt? She died of cancer, how could Mollie possibly believe that he could be responsible for her death?

"You heard me." Mollie said sharply, sinking into the corner of the plush velvet couch. "He killed my mother."

"I did hear you Mollie, I just don't understand." Tristan moved to sit beside her on the other couch. "How could he have killed her?"

"He killed her." Mollie's eyes filled with tears. She had been holding all of this knowledge inside of her since she found out about what her father did. "He killed her."

"Mollie, the cancer killed her." Tristan reminded her softly.

"No, Tristan!" Mollie brushed the moisture from her eyes. "He killed her spirit."

"Huh?"

"Listen up, Tristan." Mollie yelled at him, pulling away. "My bastard of a father killed her just as much as the cancer did."

"How?" Tristan asked, trying to get her to talk to him. "How could he have killed her?"

--&--

"I can't imagine what could have happened." Graham said. "I mean, their family was like the model family. Loving father, cookie baking mom, and the precocious, endearing daughter all under the same roof. Isabelle and Stephen really loved each other, you could tell. They had one of those bonds that nothing could break, you know?"

"Yeah, I know."

"I mean, it's been like, seven years, and I don't think that he's dated anyone." Graham smiled. "I mean, they really exemplified that saying, 'Life may end, but love never does.'"

"I've never heard that before." Rory smiled at the sentiment. "It's nice."

"Haven't you ever read 'Five People You Meet in Heaven?'"

"Not yet, but it seems to be creeping up my list." Rory said, mentally putting the book at the top, right behind finishing 'The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants.' "It's been getting some rave reviews from other readers."

"Yeah, I read it a while ago, and then gave it to Tristan." Graham turned to Rory. "You should see if he still has it. I don't think that he ever returned it."

"I'll look into it." Rory smirked.

The short silence that had filled the room evaporated quickly as loud voices could be heard from outside the sitting room that they were currently trapped in. Rory wasn't sure whether or not it was safe to venture into the hall to see what trouble was brewing beyond the doors.

"Uh oh." Graham murmured, as Mollie's voice growing louder as she came closer. Tristan was right when he said that she had something major going on. He didn't understand what could have happened to the perfect father daughter duo.

It was like something had sent their relationship into a tailspin. Suddenly, the unthinkable was happening. If Mollie and her father's unbreakable bond could be shattered like this, what did that say for the precarious one that he shared with his own father?

"Octavia Mollina Calloway!" The slightly muffled voice came through the thick mahogany doors, filling both occupants with a feeling of dread.

"I think that we'd better get out there." Graham said quietly, hurrying toward the door. If her father was using her full name, nothing good could possibly come from the situation. He had seen the angry daggers Mollie had been silently throwing in her father's direction in the hall earlier. He had also seen the smoke practically billowing from his ears when he confronting her.

This wasn't going to be good. He thought, yanking open the door to see the two standing in the middle of the hall, facing each other, preparing for battle.

Nope, not good at all.

--&--

"You think I'm crazy, don't you?" Mollie stood up, backing away from Tristan. "You think I'm losing my mind."

"No, Molls. Come on, talk to me." Tristan pleaded with her. He knew that she had to get this out before she imploded. Mollie was great at prying into other people's hearts and minds, but very rarely did she actually let anyone into hers.

"NO! I don't want to talk anymore." Mollie screamed, stamping her foot in anger and frustration. "I don't want to sit here with you, not when you think that I've taken a flying leap off the sanity bridge."

"Molls…" Tristan really didn't know what to do. This situation was rapidly spiraling of his control, and he didn't have the slightest idea how to reign it back in.

"I can't do this." Mollie said, turning around, heading for the door. "I can't do this."

"Mollie!" Tristan called, following her out the door. She was quick, and Tristan practically had to run to catch up to her. "Mollie, come on!"

"No, Tristan, No!" Mollie yelled back at him, walking down the hall. "I can't talk to you, not now."

"Octavia Mollina Calloway!" Stephen Calloway bellowed, joining them in the hallway. In fact, everyone seemed to have convened in the front hall, waiting to see what would happen next.

"Stephen Thatcher Calloway!" Mollie rolled her eyes at the absurdity that he thought that he had any power over her now. Not now.

"What in the hell is your problem, little girl?" His eyes were bitingly cold, contrasting violently with the fiery fury in his voice.

"You!" Mollie stood straight, unwavering under the angry words bearing down on her at that moment in time. "You are my problem!"

"What did I ever do to you?" Stephen asked his daughter, confusion now worming its way through his hard gaze. "What did I ever do, besides feed you, clothe you, and love you for the past seventeen years?"

"It's not what you did to me, Daddy Dearest. It's what you did to Mom."

Confusion was now even more evident in his expression. "I never did anything to your mother. I loved her with all my heart."

"Oh, yeah. I forgot. She was your 'soul mate.' Your 'perfect match.'" Mollie rolled her eyes. "She was the one and only love of your life."

"Don't you dare mock what I had with your mother!" Stephen yelled at her, getting even closer to his daughter than he already was. "I loved her then, and I loved her still. I will love her until the day that I die, and even after that."

"Then please, explain it to me." Mollie requested, narrowing her eyes. "Explain to me how you can claim to love her so much, when you were cheating on her for years!"

The room went silent. No one had ever expected for Mollie to say anything like that, not in a million years. Stephen and Isabelle Calloway had the perfect marriage. They loved each other, they were devoted to each other. He would never have an affair.

Would he?

"I never-," Stephen sputtered, taking several steps back. "I didn't-,"

"Did you know she knew?" Mollie asked quietly. "Because she did, Dad. She knew all about it."

"How could she?" He asked, closing his eyes.

"She figured it out."

"But…"

"I found her old diaries last winter during Christmas break." Mollie told him. "They started around her junior year in high school, and went to the end. It wasn't until two months ago that I got to the last one. She found out by accident a few weeks before she died."

"But…"

"At first, when I started to read about it, I thought that it was completely crazy. I mean, she thought it was too, and I guess that it just seemed really irrational, like she was going delusional or something. But I thought that I would prove her wrong, and that would be the end of it. I looked for all the little things that she found, all the things that led her to this unbelievable conclusion."

"She left a pretty good trail to follow up on. I mean, all of your old files were stored in the main database of your computer. So I had a friend help me hack into it, and poof! All the details were right there in front of me, clear as day."

"But…"

"All the times that you couldn't be there with her, all those moments that you missed out on, I know where you were now. I mean, you were even with that woman when she…" Mollie couldn't take it anymore. Her vision was blurred by the tears that had been threatening to fall for months.

"Mollie, Angel… I'm so sor-," Stephen moved to her, attempting to soothe her. His arms were around her when she pushed him away violently.

"No! No, Dad, 'sorry' isn't going to make this better!" Mollie yelled at him, backing away from the group. "Sorry isn't going to bring her back!"

"I never meant for this to happen, Angel, please, just listen to me!" He pleaded with his daughter, begging for her to understand, to forgive him.

"I always wondered why she fought so hard for so long, and then to just give up." Mollie backed into the table in the middle of the room, knocking the vase of roses onto the floor. The crystal shattered the instant it came in contact with the marble floors, sending water everywhere.

"You killed her." Mollie pointed a finger at her father. "If you hadn't done what you did, none of this would have happened!"

"Mollie, Baby…" He pleaded again, advancing on her once again.

"Stop it!" Mollie screamed at him, backing away, withdrawing from the whole group. "I'm not listening to you!"

"Please!" Stephen reached for her, and felt the searing pain stab his heart as she recoiled when his fingers touched the skin of her arm.

"No…" Mollie looked into his eyes. "I hate you, Dad. I hate everything about you. You betrayed my mother all those years ago, and lived a lie for just as long. I hate you."

She turned and ran from the room, leaving a silent group and a broken man to pick up the shattered pieces that she had left behind.


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