Chapter 2: The Maid of Honor's Dad

Rory Gilmore wandered the wedding reception, her mind on a path just as aimless as the one her feet now carried her along. She ran her hands lightly over her periwinkle dress, trying not to entertain the paranoid thoughts of how it felt tighter already as opposed to when she last tried it on, only a matter of days ago.

People had been coming up to her all evening, commenting on how she was the prettiest Maid of Honor they had seen in years. Rory put on her mask, her brave smile, doling out Thank You's in a gushing way that was fake to only her.

"Sugah, you look positively radiant!" Babette had pronounced in her raspy voice.

"Rory, honey, I'd help you find a fella in this crowd, but that face and dress are already drawing them like moths to a flame!" Miss Patty had cheekily informed her. And indeed, Rory noticed she was catching the eye of most of Luke's groomsmen - young friends of Jess's that her stepfather's nephew had rounded up.

Someone else noticed how Rory was becoming the Belle of the Ball - Luke, the groom himself. His eyes followed Rory like a heat-seeking missile, their beams only growing more fervent when he saw how Jess's buddies were all eyeing her like a snack. They better not get any ideas... Luke had growled to himself. Locker room talk be damned! Donald Trump or no, if that's how men these days conducted themselves, watching any attempts at sexual intercourse was little better than watching the gorillas in that Tarzan movie with the Phil Collins music switched off.

And then there was that cryptic message from Lorelai the night before, about how his new stepdaughter had a surprise for him. But what could it be? And was it anything good, if Rory's body language was to be believed? The way her shoulders were slightly slumped. And he knew that smile - her fake one. It could fool the entire town, and maybe her mother on occasion, but it couldn't fool him. Something was wrong.

So, Luke sauntered over from the punch bowl table, heading off a groomsman who seemed to have gotten the same idea. "May I have this dance, young lady?" Luke playfully bowed to Rory.

Rory blinked, almost as if she was startled, but quickly covered it up with a smile. "Why, of course you may!" she played along, curtsying. Luke noticed the cock-blocked groomsman slink off as he and Rory danced away. Yeah, you'd better run, punk! You're lucky that cock only got blocked and not something far worse. Like chopped off.

As the pair waltzed, Luke saw how Rory was more focused on her feet not mangling the steps than she was on him. Her eyes were heavy, and she just had a... melancholy countenance about her. Gently, he lifted her chin with a finger so he could meet her eyes. "Rory... you know you can tell me anything, right? Your mom said you have a surprise for me..." Ordinarily, he would have waited for her to tell him, but something in his gut told him that nudging her in that direction might make things better for all of them.

Rory visibly gulped and nodded, her eyes pooling with tears. "I have something to tell you..."

And whatever it was, it wasn't good, Luke had all but confirmed that. "Is it a job? Did you lose a writing assignment? Or that boyfriend, what was his name? Patrick? Peter?"

"Paul," Rory corrected him.

"Whatever. Is it...?"

"No, it's not about him."

"Are you sick?"

Rory shook her head, abruptly bringing their dance to a halt. Then she suddenly leaned up and whispered in his ear, and the way she clung to him made Luke feel as though she was a little girl again, telling him a secret.

"I'm pregnant."

She pulled back, and Luke's jaw dropped. Rory's eyes searched his, and Luke wondered if it was approval, or at least acceptance. Whatever he said next, he knew it would matter and have ramifications for years to come. After all, Christopher might be Rory's father, but he - Luke - was Rory's dad.

"P... pregnant?"

"I'm going to have a baby," Rory smiled weakly.

Luke's eyes filled with tears, tears that he refused to shed. His eyes scanned the crowd, almost daring for anyone to look their way at the wrong moment. He couldn't fall apart like this, not with Rory; Patty or Babette would have the rumor mills churning faster than he could say 'Gilmore.'

"That's... that's wonderful!" He croaked. Rory blinked, surprised by his lack of judgment. Luke felt his grip tighten protectively around her. "Whatever you need, you understand me? Whatever you need, and it's yours." He paused. "The father...?"

"Is not Paul," Rory whispered quietly. "It's... Logan."

Luke's eyes widened in astonishment, but instead all he asked was, "Will he help?"

"I don't think he's in a position to," Rory murmured sadly. She stared up into his face, searching again. "Are you... disappointed?"

"No! Never! Never at you, Rory..." he soothed her.

"But the menu!" Rory suddenly wailed, the softest voice of her stepfather's suddenly making her come unglued. "You put my New Yorker piece on the back of your menu, and you and Mom are always so supportive, and I just keep jumping from bad choice to worse. I've been flailing since practically college. I mean, who does that? What kind of person takes all these amazing opportunities and, and just wastes them? Just - throws them away? This person right here, that's who. I just keep picking whatever's easiest, because maybe I think I'm less likely to screw up? Or not picking anything at all, and just pretending I know what I'm doing and dressing it up as some romantic adventure. I'm 32 years old, for crying out loud. I shouldn't - I shouldn't be so scared of living my life… I'm so scared, Luke."

Luke bit his lip, before wordlessly pulling Rory into his embrace. It rattled him when she clung to him and began to violently sob. "You've been so proud of me... and I don't deserve it! April deserves it..."

The mention of his biological daughter made Luke scan for her face in the crowd. He finally spotted her, laughing with Jess over a picture the young man had taken on his camera. Gulping, Luke held Rory closer, allowing her to soak his tuxedo through with her tears.

"April's not my only daughter..." he murmured to her quietly, rubbing small circles along her back. "It's OK, princess... It's OK... Don't you know that I'm crazy about you...?"

Rory finally relaxed in his embrace, letting out a shuddering breath. "You're a great dad, Luke," and he knew she wasn't just talking about April. "And you will be an amazing grandfather."

"You'll be an amazing mother," Luke promised her, kissing her hair and forehead as they swayed softly on the dance floor.