Chapter 14
Eventually--towards the beginning of September, Bilbo's broken ankle began to heal. He, as Dr. Burrows had warned, would gain a small limp as a result of the fracture.
"Should be hardly noticible," Dr. Burrows insisted as he watched Bilbo walk around the parlor.
Gandalf once again left the Shire without so much as a goodbye, and it would be nearly two months before either of the Baggins's saw him again.
Frodo, meanwhile, began to feel better with the arrival of the fall season. "So your allergies are seasonal," Dr. Burrows said with a smile after yet another check up. "That's good. At least you can have a relaxing winter." Frodo smiled--winter was rarely relaxing for him, what with the colds and flus he often suffered through, and they kept his Uncle on his toes. Still, Frodo cheered up when he recieved an invitation to attend Ruby Proudfoot's birthday party in West Farthing on September the 15th and he was thrilled when Bilbo insisted he accept the invitation.
"You deserve it, lad." Bilbo told him with a smile. "Speaking of birthday parties--we have one to plan of our own soon."
It was true--Frodo and Bilbo each had the same birthday--September the 22nd. When Frodo had come to live with his Uncle the year before, there had been an enormous party with spectacular fireworks compliments of Gandalf himself and plenty of food and fun for adults, children and tweenagers alike. However, Frodo was not one for large affairs such as that--he was rather shy when it came to enormous groups and tended to hide amongst the shadows.
"Do we have to have a big party this year, Uncle?" Frodo asked as he sat in the kitchen on the night of the 12th. Bilbo stood at the counter, mixing together ingredients to create a wonderful apple cake for no apparent reason. The old hobbit stopped mixing the dry ingredients and turned around.
"What did you have in mind, cricket?" He asked. "I thought you enjoyed yourself last year."
Frodo shrugged. "I did, but--but I'd rather have a smaller party, with just our close relatives and friends. Sam and his family, Merry, Pippin and their parents, Fredegar and Ruby. They would be enough--and Gandalf if he is not galavanting somewhere."
Bilbo smiled and walked over to his nephew, planting a kiss on the lad's head. "Then, love, you shall have just that." He promised.
"Truly?" Frodo asked, his lips breaking into a big smile.
"Truly." Bilbo replied, and turned his attention back to the cake.
Closing his eyes and taking in the scent of sweet apples and brown sugar, Frodo then realized how truly lucky he was.
*THE END*
Eventually--towards the beginning of September, Bilbo's broken ankle began to heal. He, as Dr. Burrows had warned, would gain a small limp as a result of the fracture.
"Should be hardly noticible," Dr. Burrows insisted as he watched Bilbo walk around the parlor.
Gandalf once again left the Shire without so much as a goodbye, and it would be nearly two months before either of the Baggins's saw him again.
Frodo, meanwhile, began to feel better with the arrival of the fall season. "So your allergies are seasonal," Dr. Burrows said with a smile after yet another check up. "That's good. At least you can have a relaxing winter." Frodo smiled--winter was rarely relaxing for him, what with the colds and flus he often suffered through, and they kept his Uncle on his toes. Still, Frodo cheered up when he recieved an invitation to attend Ruby Proudfoot's birthday party in West Farthing on September the 15th and he was thrilled when Bilbo insisted he accept the invitation.
"You deserve it, lad." Bilbo told him with a smile. "Speaking of birthday parties--we have one to plan of our own soon."
It was true--Frodo and Bilbo each had the same birthday--September the 22nd. When Frodo had come to live with his Uncle the year before, there had been an enormous party with spectacular fireworks compliments of Gandalf himself and plenty of food and fun for adults, children and tweenagers alike. However, Frodo was not one for large affairs such as that--he was rather shy when it came to enormous groups and tended to hide amongst the shadows.
"Do we have to have a big party this year, Uncle?" Frodo asked as he sat in the kitchen on the night of the 12th. Bilbo stood at the counter, mixing together ingredients to create a wonderful apple cake for no apparent reason. The old hobbit stopped mixing the dry ingredients and turned around.
"What did you have in mind, cricket?" He asked. "I thought you enjoyed yourself last year."
Frodo shrugged. "I did, but--but I'd rather have a smaller party, with just our close relatives and friends. Sam and his family, Merry, Pippin and their parents, Fredegar and Ruby. They would be enough--and Gandalf if he is not galavanting somewhere."
Bilbo smiled and walked over to his nephew, planting a kiss on the lad's head. "Then, love, you shall have just that." He promised.
"Truly?" Frodo asked, his lips breaking into a big smile.
"Truly." Bilbo replied, and turned his attention back to the cake.
Closing his eyes and taking in the scent of sweet apples and brown sugar, Frodo then realized how truly lucky he was.
*THE END*