❝HAPPY BIRTHDAY RORY❞
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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ chapter twelve,
Gilmore Girls — Season One

October 8th, 2000

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[ LUCY'S POV ]

     ON RORY GILMORE'S SIXTEENTH BIRTHDAY, me and Dad spend the morning decorating a table in the diner to suit the birthday girl with a couple of "stupid balloons" as Dad calls them. We also spend the morning making a coffee cake which I now desperately want for my birthday in December.

And when Rory walks into the diner with her best friend, Lane Kim, Dad glares at her and says, "Hey. Wrong table."

"Since when is there a right table?"

"Since the coffee cake we baked for you and the stupid balloons we blew up are at that table over there." He points towards the table at the front of the diner, right by the window, and I watch as both Rory and Lane smile.

"You blew up balloons for me?" Her face glows with excitement.

"Yep."

"Oh, Luke, you old softie." I look to Dad and one side of his lip twitches, almost as if he's trying to smile but doesn't want to show it.

"I count to three, it's gone," he threatens.

"Thank you." Rory starts collecting her books to move towards the table but pauses when she catches my eye. "Both of you."

     "Happy birthday, Rory." I watch the two best friends step away from the counter and walk off towards the table.

     I look up to Dad. "You softie," I tease, nudging his arm.

     "I count to three, you're dead."

     I fall silent, and the door to the diner opens, the bell ringing as I look up to see Dean. I watch him glance over in Rory's direction before he places down some money on the counter, saying, "Coffee to go, please."

     Dad glares at him which isn't surprising. My dad obviously hasn't met him yet, and it's clear he doesn't like any new people— new guys specifically— and when Dean says, "Hey, Lucy," my dad scowls next to me.

     "Hi, Dean," I say politely.

     Dean looks away from me, his eyes falling on Rory who is grinning and blushing. I can sense something is going on between them, perhaps some romance.

     "Here you go." Dad places the coffee on the counter before him.

     "Thank you. See you at school, Lucy." He nods towards me before turning away.

     I look over at Dad who has his arms crossed over his chest. "Who is that?"

     I scoff. "Dean. He just moved here from Chicago," I answer, watching my dad's face shift uncomfortably. Dad doesn't like boys talking to me— his one and only daughter— especially when he doesn't know said boys. "What?"

     "Does he speak to you?"

     "No," I say, shrugging my shoulders.

     He grunts in response and I rolls my eyes because there's no need for him to be protective. "He better not," Dad mumbles, and I think he's overreacting slightly because I've barely uttered a word to Dean since he moved here.

     I look over towards Rory and Lane who are deep in conversation. I smile softly, hoping that Rory has a great birthday today. I know she has plans to celebrate with the town tomorrow as me and Dad have been invited by Lorelai. I make a mental note to buy her a card today so I can give it to her tomorrow.

     I'm not opposed to birthdays, but I'm also not the biggest celebrator of birthdays. I can appreciate a day where people celebrate another year of a person but I don't understand why birthdays are such a big deal. I love the quiet and calm birthdays I have with my dad at Sniffy's Tavern. I haven't celebrated my birthday with the town since I was a child, only because everybody insisted on throwing me a big birthday bash.

     Now, for my birthdays, I sit with my dad at our favourite restaurant. Addy will visit me every morning, shove some giant present in my face, and then leave without another word. I also do the exact same thing to her on her birthday every year.

     "Lucy." I snap my eyes over to Addy and Nathan who have taken a seat at the counter. "You okay?"

     "Did you get invited to Rory's birthday party?" Nathan asks and I nod, moving toward them with coffee in hand. "Really?"

     "My dad did, so I did."

     "Can we come with you?" I raise my eyebrow, confused as to why they would want to come with me when they both don't care for Rory Gilmore.

     "Why?"

     Nathan and Addy look towards Rory's table where she sits with Lane. "Who doesn't love a good birthday party, right?"

     "You guys aren't coming," I insist, and they both groan. To be honest, they're more than capable of coming to Rory's party. The entire town is invited so, if they really wanted to, they can come. "Me and Dad are only making an appearance. We'll be in and out, okay?"

     "Did you set up the table for her?" I hum in response, taking a sip of my coffee. "Cute. I better get one."

     "If you want one," I start. "I'll give you one."

     "You ready yet?" Addy asks.

     "Yeah. Sorry."

     I move around the counter to joins my friends who are moving from their seats at the counter. As I'm shouldering my bag, my dad comes back from the kitchen, and I wave towards him and shout, "Gotta go!"

     "See you later, kid." He waves towards me just as I step out the door with my friends.

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October 9th, 2000

SATURDAY NIGHT IS THE NIGHT OF RORY'S BIRTHDAY PARTY. However, Saturday nights are also the nights of the traditional Danes' family dinner, so instead of going to Sniffy's Tavern like we always do, we eat dinner at the diner before making an appearance at Rory's party.

I wish we could be with Maisie and Buddy but we agreed to be at Rory's party, and I've already bought her a card and scribbled some heartfelt message inside. However, instead of going to Sniffy's tonight, we're going tomorrow night.

"I want a coffee cake on my birthday," I demand, my mouth full of pancake— my dessert. "With a coffee syrup and a side of coffee."

"That's disgusting," he comments.

"That's my only request for my birthday this year, okay?" I'm not somebody who makes many demands for my birthday but it's my sweet sixteenth, so I hope that Dad will fulfil my wishes. "I can't believe you've never made me one."

"That's because I was hoping my own child wouldn't subject herself to that much coffee." Dad pushes my coffee cup away, signalling that he didn't want me drinking another one. I had drank two this morning, three throughout the day and this was officially my seventh cup of the day. I honestly wouldn't be surprised if I dropped dead from a heart attack due to a caffeine overload.

     I step away and I snatch another cup— my eighth cup of the day— and I can feel Dad's stare from across the counter but I ignore him because there's no stopping me now. "I noticed you took two bags of ice out... Why?"

     "You never know how much ice you need at a party," he says like it's not the strangest thing he's ever said. Maybe Lorelai and Rory need ice, and if they do, I'll always ask for ice at parties now. "What?"

     "Oh, nothing." Deep down, I'm judging him.

     "Do you wanna go?" Dad rises from his chair and I nod quickly, downing my coffee before we leave. I've changed my outfit to fit in with the party while Dad remains in the same plaid shirt and backwards cap. Except now, he's carrying a bag of ice and telling me to grab the other one.

     I lock the door behind me, and hold the giant bag of ice close to me. "I hate ice," I say, not realising how heavy it is. Or how cold it is.

     "They'll be grateful." I sure hope so because this ice carrying is not worth it, even if I'm just carrying it and throwing it into the back of the truck. "I hope."

     "If they don't need ice, I swear—"

     "You'll swear to God to burn it?"

     "I don't think God burns ice, but Satan might," I say with a scoff, but I'm not exactly religious. I haven't got a clue. "And yes, I hope the ice burns because it's cold and heavy." I lift it up and onto the back of the truck, nearly tipping over as I do so, and Dad doesn't bother to help me as he places his ice bag into the truck with ease.

     I still believe that the Gilmore's do not need ice and I say that many times on the way to their house. However, when we arrive at the Gilmore household, Lorelai Gilmore shrieks, her voice shrill and loud as she steps towards us. She sounds thrilled to see us, too thrilled to see us and now I know why. "Oh, my God! You two are a vision! Sookie, we have ice!"

     Sookie peeks her head around the door to see us. "Hallelujah."

     "How did you know?" Lorelai asks, and I wish I knew how my dad knew that they needed ice.

     "A good rule of thumb is you can never have too much ice," Dad claims, and I try to hold my bag up, struggling as I do. When I glance up to Dad, he's got a smug grin on his face, and I scoff. He's never going to shut up about this.

     Lorelai is walking towards us with the widest grin plastered on her face. "Oh, you're the best!" She's laughing and throwing her arms around Dad's neck, and I watch him hug back, grinning and stepping away to let them have their "moment." Now, I'll never shut up about this.

     Lorelai pats her hand against my cheek when she pulls away from Dad and I smile politely. Lorelai then spins back around to see a woman, who I assume is Lorelai's mother, watching us. "Oh, hi, Mom. This is my friend Luke, and his daughter, Lucy."

     "How do you do?" Dad asks while I wave awkwardly, smiling politely but I don't like how this woman looks to us.

     "Fine, thank you."

     There's some tension in the air between us and Lorelai's mother so I nudge Dad, prompting him to move forward. "We better get these in the freezer before they melt," I say.

     Me and Dad walk past Lorelai's mother, exchanging awkward glances and stiff smiles to her as we step by. I then say hello to a couple of townsfolk who are in the kitchen, snacking on Sookie's food and drinking all the soda and beer from the fridge.

     Lorelai helps me push her bag of ice into the freezer, and we use all our strength to close the freezer, groaning when we hit resistance but grateful when it finally slams shut. Dad hands his bag of ice over to Sookie who desperately needs it for the drinks.

     I then leaves the kitchen to join some of the partygoers in the living room. I find Babette and Patty who wave towards me just as I step over to the group, my eyes finding the birthday girl's. "Lucy, hi!" I'm not sure whether to hug her so instead I stand, hands at my sides with a smile on my face as I wait for Rory to step towards me.

     I hold out the card that me and my dad signed earlier. "Happy Birthday. Again."

     Rory chuckles. "Thank you."

     I watch her open the card and read the message inside while also examining the very vibrant, pink feather scarf she's wearing along with the gold crown upon her head that reads Happy Birthday. "I love the outfit," I say, looking her up and down and smiling.

     We're then interrupted when Babette calls us over to the sofa, probably ready to embarrass the poor girl and I definitely want to sit and listen to this. Babette begins with the embarrassment first, "Oh, do you remember the time that Rory decided that our old tree stump was a fairy ring?"

     "I sure do," Lorelai replies, smiling towards her beloved daughter.

     "How old was she then, sugar?"

     "I think she was about ten."

     "Hey, all I know is that it matched the description," Rory claims, holding her hands up.

Babette continues with her torment, "Oh, God, she was cute. She used to sit out there with a peanut butter sandwich, just waiting for the fairy to get hungry." Everyone laughs around me, including myself, but I notice that Rory's grandmother is silent in the corner of the room.

"Okay. New story," Rory insists, wanting to push past the current embarrassment.

Patty sighs, her hands hitting her legs as she says, "I'm still crushed beyond belief that she quit her ballet lessons."

"Oh, not me. Miss. "Perfect work ethic" would practise around this room twenty-four hours a day." Dad had also been very happy— not that he'd say anything— when I quit ballet lessons. Twelve-year-old me used to prance around the diner and disrupt the customers just so I could perfect her technique, and with a best friend who adores dancing, I always aimed to please but I failed miserably.

"And I still stunk," Rory frowns.

"I can vouch for that."

"That's not true!" Patty claims.

"She was pretty bad," Babette says quietly, and she and Morey laugh.

"Don't you listen to them. You had a true gift." Patty always did believe in everybody even if they stunk at dancing, including me. "You and Lucy had the cutest routine."

I scoff, shaking my head in disbelief. "Oh, come on. Our routine was anything but cute."

"What? You were both very talented."

"You're too kind, Patty."

Me and Rory are laughing at the ridiculousness, and it's moments like these that make me believe that me and Rory can be close again like we once were. "We stunk," Rory says, and I laugh harder because it's true.

Me and Rory used to be paired together during ballet lessons, and at the age of twelve, we made a "cute" and impractical dance routine which we performed in front of our parents and the townsfolk. During a pirouette, me and Rory stumbled into one another and fell to the ground. Instead of continuing with our routine, we sat and laughed while everybody in the dance studio looked at us with concern on their faces.

Dad still remembers the horrifying day like it was yesterday, and he often likes to bring up my lack of coordination when it comes to dancing.

I like reminiscing on the times where I was carefree and happy. It brings a smile to my face to recall how extraordinary my childhood was. I had great friends, and I'm still best friends with Addy. Sometimes, it stings that me and Rory aren't as close as we once were but I like to think that we'll be close again one day. Maybe.

After a few more stories, cake, and drinks, me and Dad decide it'll be best to get out of here. Me and Dad actually end up being one of the last to leave as we pass by a couple of friends, and I insist on saying goodbye to each one separately.

Lorelai steps over to me, her arm sliding around my shoulders. "Thanks for coming," she says, squeezing my arm, and I smile. "And thank you for the ice."

"Thank you for having me," I say. "And the ice was all my dad's idea. I thought he was insane."

Lorelai rubs my arm twice before I step away, allowing her to speak with my dad as I wait outside on the porch. While I wait, Rory steps outside, and I wave towards her as she walks over to me. "Thank you for coming," Rory says.

"Yeah, of course," I say, genuinely grateful that I chose to came. "I had a really great time tonight. Thank you for having me."

There's a beat of silence between us and some part of me wants to step forward and hug her, thank her for having me again and walk off. However, I feel a little awkward doing so as me and Rory aren't kids anymore. We aren't close sadly, and I can't just take a step that could make her uncomfortable.

Rory chuckles awkwardly, breaking our silence. "Seriously, thank you for coming, Lucy."

Rory takes the leap I'm too afraid to take. She steps forward and her arms engulf me in a very quick, two-second, strange hug, and I reciprocate quickly, laughing softly as my arms open to embrace Rory. Rory squeezes my arms as she pulls back and my smile remains kind and gentle.

I then hear Dad clear his throat behind me. I turn, nodding towards him as he takes a step down to the grass. I quickly turn back to Rory, my hand still on her arm as I say, "Happy birthday."

"You've said that already."

"Third times the charm," I laugh, squeezing her arm one final time before I step away. "I'll see you around."

Rory waves a goodbye to me as I move away from the porch, taking the steps down to where Dad stands, hands in his jean pockets. Dad begins to turn away from the house with me at his side, and we walk towards our truck.

I look back to see Rory is still standing on the porch, and I smile again because I do really believe that me and Rory will be close again.

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