Chapter 5: Happy Birthday, Princess
October 8th, 2001. 4 A.M. Luke shut off his set alarm before it even started ringing, and tiptoed into his adopted daughter's room. The clock on her nightstand now read 4:03 AM. He gently nudged Rory awake.
"Huh?"
"Happy Birthday, princess," Luke whispered.
Even in the darkness, Rory's eyes shone. "You remembered?" she whispered.
Luke shrugged. "Your mom used to say it was a tradition."
Rory nodded, remembering. "Wow, I feel important."
"You are important," Luke assured her, sitting on the edge of her bed. "And you know something?"
"What?"
"I think you're a great kid, and the best sidekick an old fogey like me could have."
Rory giggled. "Especially when all the customers are hollering for their pancakes!"
"Oh, yes. Whatever would I do without you armed and ready to fire maple syrup everywhere?" Luke stroked her hair. "Damn, you're growing up so fast."
"Really?"
"Oh, yeah. It's just so hard to believe that... 17 years ago, your mom was in the exact position you are in now."
Rory yawned and nestled back into the pillows. "Oh, boy. Did she teach this story to you before...?"
"No. But she would tell it often enough when she came in for her morning coffee. Anyway, there she was, only she was apparently huge, with big, fat ankles and swearing like a sailor..."
"On leave," Rory interjected.
"Right! I knew it was some simile like that! So there she was, in labor, feeling as though she was doing the splits on a crate of dynamite."
Rory smirked. "Another simile?"
"Hey, she used that one, I remember! And being surrounded as she was by hundreds of doctors, she just assumed that there was a function for the ice chips they gave her."
"There wasn't," Rory recited.
"But I bet pelting the nurses sure was epic!" Luke laughed. He could see Lorelai now, chucking ice chips left and right at anyone who got too close to her. Rory was beginning to drift off, so Luke planted a kiss to her forehead. "Good night, baby girl."
"Good night, Daddy. I love you," Rory mumbled as Luke closed the door behind him.
Luke had never imagined himself to be a father. But even if Lorelai had not died, he knew there was nothing else he could have been, or would rather be, to Rory than her father.