Author's Notes: Welcome to November! There are three major events going on in Stars Hollow during November: Luke's birthday, the dark day, and Thanksgiving. I'm not sure if the show ever confirmed when those first two events take place, but in my world, (at least for this story), it goes birthday, dark day, then Thanksgiving. (Yes, I'm aware that in "Alone's the Last Place" I reversed the birthday and dark day, because that's how I needed things to be for that story!) I hope that doesn't upset anyone too much. (Except for you, Fish Bag! Sorry.) There will be a second November chapter to deal with the remaining events on the list.
I'd like to thank Eledgy again for creating the delightful character of Ed Tallman and also for giving me permission to incorporate him into my story. He is a wonderful addition!
And now, on to November, where I believe someone is having a birthday…
"I've got a bad feeling about this," Luke muttered darkly, looking up the stairs towards his apartment.
The bad feeling had been growing stronger all day. Today happened to be his birthday, and although he was positive Lorelai and Rory had learned that fact from numerous sources, the girls had been conspicuously absent from the diner all day. After seeing the way Lorelai had thrown herself into celebrating Rory's birthday last month, and in fact, her wholehearted embrace of any sort of reveling, he was alarmed to think what she might do to mark the day of his birth. His anxiety had intensified when Larry and Jolene had staged a coup a few minutes ago and had practically thrown him out of the diner, urging him to go upstairs and "take it easy."
"Take it easy," he muttered, finally beginning to climb up the stairs. Halfway up he could see light peeking out from under his partially opened door. He was pretty sure he could hear giggles and excited feet running back and forth over the hardwood floors.
He paused, leaning against the railing for support. He hated parties, he really did. He hated them even more when they were supposedly in his honor. However, in this case, if the girls were behind this, especially if Rory was instrumental in throwing a surprise party for him, he was going to have to act thrilled. His discomfort would have to take a back seat to Rory's wish to make his birthday special.
For one more minute he stood silently on the stairs, taking off his hat and rubbing his head in mild frustration. With a huge sigh he lectured himself about how to react when he walked into his own place and a mess of townies ran at him, screaming 'Happy birthday!'
Thrilled, he told himself sternly, walking the last few feet to the opened door. I'm going to be thrilled.
But when he reluctantly stepped through the door, no one ran to greet him. The lights were blazing throughout the apartment. A delicious smell of garlic and grilled chicken floated through the air and he could see that his small kitchen table had been set with formal linens and china. Two dark-haired waitresses – one much shorter than the other – were standing before the stove, both dressed in black skirts and white blouses, with frilly white aprons tied around their waists.
He shut the door behind him loudly and they both spun around to face him.
"Luke!" Rory immediately ran over to him. "We didn't hear you coming up the stairs." She gave him an enthusiastic hug around his waist, then looked up at him, her whole face beaming. "Happy birthday!"
"Thanks," he said distractedly, still peering warily into all corners of the apartment.
"Looking for something?" Lorelai asked, also coming over to stand by him. "Or someone?" she teased, apparently reading his mind.
"Did you want a party?" Rory asked anxiously, tugging on his sleeve.
"No!" Relief made his reply extra emphatic, and Lorelai laughed.
"Mom wanted to have more people here to celebrate, but then we thought that you might like this better, if it was just us."
He put his hand on top of Rory's head, careful not to dislodge the plastic headband holding back her hair. "I do like this much better." He sniffed the air appreciatively. "But I don't get it. If it's just you, who's cooking?"
Lorelai scoffed. "Seriously? You have so little faith in us?"
Luke took another sniff. "Unless they've suddenly made PopTarts in garlic and chicken flavor, yes."
She sighed dramatically. "I know people, OK? It's amazing what you can do when your best friend is a chef."
"We have really good food," Rory assured him.
"And we are really good at the reheating thing," Lorelai reminded him.
Feeling more relaxed, Luke smiled at Lorelai, and finally looked at her straight-on. Her hair was curlier than usual, probably from the heat of cooking. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes sparkling. The crisp white shirt, with several buttons open at her neck, was setting off her porcelain complexion to perfection, and it took him two or three tries before he could tear his eyes away from her beauty.
In the weeks between Rory's party and today, he'd managed to put aside the warning she'd given him. He'd always been very good at ignoring those things he didn't want to deal with; burying them so he could go on with his daily life. That didn't mean, though, that he hadn't awakened on more than one morning from dreams where he'd been up ridin' the cold, lonely fences, coming home at last to find Lorelai waiting for him, usually wearing that Quaker dress. Sometimes not exactly all the way in the Quaker dress. But he wasn't responsible for what his subconscious dreamt about, and during the day he was fine. Except for once, when Desperado started playing while he was shopping at the restaurant supply store in Hartford and he'd nearly jumped out of his skin.
Of course, all of this studious avoidance of what she'd said made the first few minutes of every daily exchange awkward between them, until the ice was broken and they grew used to being together again.
Lorelai cleared her throat, causing him to realize she'd noticed the way he'd been looking at her. Caught, he dropped his gaze to the floor.
"Listen, we're not quite ready to serve yet, so if you want to go get cleaned up or something…?" Lorelai offered him a way out.
"Yeah, that's a great idea." Fondly, he patted Rory's shoulder, then started towards the bathroom. He paused by his closet, watching the girls rush back to the pots and pans on the stove, then reached in and grabbed a chambray shirt from a hanger.
A few minutes later he came back out into the living space, his hair damp and still buttoning the cuffs on his shirt.
Rory was carrying a bowl to the coffee table and she stopped dead to study him. "Wow. You look different. Nice, but different."
A clatter from the kitchen made both of them look towards the noise. Lorelai had been taking a cookie sheet out of the oven and had apparently gotten distracted. "Oops," she said, quickly scooping up a couple of toasted triangles that had fallen to the floor. "Five second rule. Those are mine," she giggled self-consciously, her cheeks a deeper shade of pink. "And…you do look nice," she casually confirmed, turning away to deal with the food.
Rory looked at Luke and shrugged. "Come sit down in here. Mom says we're having hors d'oeuvres first."
"Wow, fancy," he commented, sitting on the couch.
"Well, birthdays deserve some fanciness," Lorelai declared, joining them with a platter of the toasted bread.
"What's this?" Luke questioned, pointing to the beige dip in the bowl.
"Sookie said it was something you liked at my party. It's – humans?" Rory asked Lorelai, crinkling up her forehead as she tried to remember the strange word.
Lorelai laughed. "No, sweetie, we're not doing the Stars Hollow version of Soylent Green. It's hummus," she told Luke. "Made with chickpeas. And Sookie told us to cut up pita bread and toast it to go with it."
Luke had scooped up some while she was talking. "Oh yeah," he agreed while crunching. "I remember. This is good. She's right, I did like this."
"Sookie always remembers the food details," Lorelai commented, helping herself to some of the dip too. "She might forget your name or where she lives, but she'll always be able to recite every dish she saw you eat."
"She's like an encyclopedia of food," Rory agreed, also digging a chip into the dip.
For a few minutes they ate and discussed some of their favorite Sookie creations. The girls told Luke about some of Sookie's ideas that hadn't worked out so well, like the chocolate cake interspersed with crumbled bacon. He told them about the learning curve he'd had when he'd first opened the diner, before he knew that it wasn't a good idea to stockpile scrambled eggs.
"I know Rory and I could go on eating this, but you'd better stop," Lorelai warned Luke before he could pick up yet another pita chip.
"Yeah, we've got salad, and chicken, and pasta, and a dessert!" Rory chimed in.
Luke put the chip back down and held up his hands in surrender. Rory giggled and crossed over to him, grabbing his hands and attempting to pull him up.
Lorelai walked into the kitchen. She pulled out a seat at the table and lightly patted it. "Just sit right here, in the place of honor."
"Can't I help?" Luke looked around at all of the cooking debris and ticking timers.
"Nope, not tonight. It's your birthday!" Rory insisted.
"Tonight we're nothing but your slaves," Lorelai agreed. "Rory get out the salads, OK?"
"'K," Rory said, opening the refrigerator, pulling out individual bowls of salad. Lorelai leaned over her and grabbed a bottle of white wine, displaying it to Luke with a little flourish.
"The sommelier assured me that this would be the perfect vintage to go with our dinner tonight."
Luke settled himself in the chair and looked at Lorelai skeptically. "Since when has the Independence had a sommelier?"
Lorelai winked at him. "Hey, play along, OK?" Then she looked uncertainly at the bottle in her hands. "Or would you rather not have wine? Is beer better? Or just water?"
"Normally white wine is not my thing, but…" Luke looked around again at the beautifully set table, smelled the enticing aromas circling the kitchen. "Tonight I think it sounds great. Do you want me to open the bottle?"
"Nope, I've got it," Lorelai assured him, pulling a corkscrew out of a basket on the counter. "You do absolutely no work tonight, you hear me?"
"Yeah, you work hard enough every other day," Rory told him. She set a plate next to his elbow, containing a small section of Parmesan cheese and a tiny grater. "That's to go on top of the salad," she explained, taking her own seat.
"That's the only exertion you're allowed tonight." Lorelai leaned over him, filling his wine glass. "Grating your own Parmesan for your salad, that's it."
"This is really good," Luke said a few minutes later, taking his third bite of salad.
The girls looked at each other over the table, nodding. "Yeah, it is," Rory agreed.
"Who knew?" Lorelai added, her mouth full.
"Sookie had me help her chop everything up," Rory informed him.
"And she bottled up the dressing for us to bring along for it," Lorelai put in.
"Mom! The bread!"
"Oh, geez. I knew I'd forget something." Lorelai jumped up and grabbed a napkin-lined basket from the counter, bringing it to the table. "If it's not hot enough, I can put it back in the oven for a minute."
Luke broke open a roll. "No, seems hot enough to melt better, so it's good to go." He passed the basket to Rory.
She took it, but then looked at him seriously. "You're sure you don't mind that we're not having a party for you?"
He chuckled a little bit. "Rory, to me, this is a party. The best kind."
"OK," she sighed with obvious relief.
"Mia came to see you today, right?" Lorelai asked.
"Yeah, she came over right when lunch was petering out. We had a chance for a nice talk. Got all caught up."
"Good." Lorelai wiped her mouth, then looked down at her lap. "I'd talked to her about what to do for your birthday a couple of weeks ago. When I mentioned that maybe Rory and I would surprise you with a special dinner for just the three of us, she thought that idea sounded like a winner."
Luke nodded, taking another drink from his wine glass. "She was right."
"Good," Lorelai repeated, "because I didn't want to exclude her from anything, you know? I didn't want it to seem like we had exclusive rights to you, or anything like that."
The little bit of awkwardness that had recently been popping up between them decided to make itself at home, and joined them at the table.
Luke went back to his wine glass, trying to decide how to respond, or if he even should respond, when Rory broke his train of thought.
"Are you done with your salad?" Rory pointed to his almost-empty bowl.
"Uh, yeah. Thanks."
The girls cleared plates and brought over a casserole dish full of pasta that had been keeping warm in the oven, plus a platter of grilled chicken breasts. Lorelai refilled his glass, her other hand this time resting familiarly on his shoulder.
Her touch was nice. All of it was very nice. The food, the company, the wine. The light hand on his shoulder. It was all something a guy could get used to, real fast, if he wasn't careful. And now, while drinking his second glass of wine, Luke was no longer certain why any sane guy would want to be careful in the first place.
"I helped Sookie make the white sauce for the pasta," Rory informed him, once more taking her seat.
"Did you now?" he asked, forcing his focus back to the food. He served himself from the casserole dish. "It smells really good," he complimented her.
"We made something called a roux. You know what that is, right?"
He grinned over at her, delighted at hearing her talk about cooking. "Yeah, I do."
Rory nodded, shifting back and forth in her chair as she started to eat. "We added a lot of cheese to the sauce, once it got going. And first we smashed a lot of garlic. Sookie showed me how to do that, with the flat side of a big knife." She illustrated the move with her hands on the table.
Luke smirked Lorelai's way. "I'm glad Sookie had you using the knife and not your mom."
"Ha-ha," Lorelai said dryly, taking a swig of her wine. "I'll have you know, I was the one who cooked the pasta once we got here, mixed it with the sauce, and put it in the oven. I'm not totally without skills, you know."
"Didn't say you were." He saluted her with a forkful of pasta, while some of the stringy cheese in the sauce made a lifeline back to his plate.
"Do you have a favorite birthday?" Rory asked him.
"What do you mean, a favorite?"
"I mean, is there one birthday that you remember the best? Did you have a really great party one year, or did you get a gift you really wanted sometime?"
"Oh." Luke put down his fork and tried to think back on the past 30 years. "I'm sure that all of my birthdays from when I was a kid were happy ones, but they all blend together, you know? Cake, candles, pin the tail on the donkey…" He paused, trying to differentiate between any of them. "I guess the one that really sticks out in my mind was the year I turned 21."
"Whoa." Lorelai made to put her hands over Rory's ears. "Is this something she can hear?"
"Mom," Rory complained, batting at her mom's hands.
Luke sent an exasperated glare her way. "I'll leave out the details about the shots and the trip to Tijuana."
"Carry on then." Lorelai nodded in approval.
"It…had not been a good year for me," Luke began to explain, searching for words. "I'd decided college wasn't for me, and hadn't gone back for the fall term. I couldn't find a job that seemed to suit me. Rachel was gone, trying to see if she could make a living freelancing."
"Who's Rachel?" Rory broke in.
Lorelai's eyes dropped to her plate.
Luke suddenly wished he'd kept his memories to himself. "Uh, Rachel is…was…is my girlfriend," he explained uncomfortably.
Rory's eyes went round. She looked in confusion at him, over at Lorelai, and then back to him again.
"Anyway…!" Lorelai said too brightly, trying to move the story past the awkward interruption.
Luke instantly took up the story again, grateful for the nudge to move on. "So when my birthday came around, I couldn't see much reason to celebrate. But my dad had other ideas. You have to understand, he wasn't one of the touchy-feely dads you see nowadays. He'd never gone out of his way to tell me he loved me or was proud of me, or anything like that. That sort of stuff wasn't talked about in our house. We just sort of knew it was there. Anyway, he came and woke me up on the morning of my birthday, and told me he'd closed the store for the day. Now, my dad never shut the store down. Never. At first, I couldn't figure out why. I was worried that something terrible had happened. But no, he said he just wanted to spend the day with me."
"Nice," Lorelai murmured wistfully.
Luke nodded at her. "Yeah, nice in a lot of ways. It turned out to be one of those perfect late fall days. It was sunny, cool enough that you needed a jacket, but the sun felt warm on your back. There was still some color left in trees."
"Like today," Rory observed.
"Yeah, exactly," Luke agreed. "At first, Dad didn't tell me anything other than he was taking me out for breakfast. I got dressed and we started driving north. Eventually we stopped at this great little diner, and I had probably the best omelet and hash browns I'd ever tasted."
"Is that where you got the idea to open up your own diner?" Lorelai wanted to know.
Luke shrugged, smiling back at her. "Maybe. It made a big impression on me, anyway."
"What'd you do after breakfast?" Rory asked.
"We kept driving, and pretty soon I knew where we were going. At one time my Uncle Louie had a place on a lake, and it had a great fishing hole we tried to get to once or twice a summer, but we hadn't been back there for at least five years. Sure enough, Dad took me fishing. He had all of our gear in the back of the truck. We stopped and got some bait, some sandwiches and chips for later, and a six-pack of beer. Dad said he wanted to be able to buy me my first legal beer – he had no illusion that I hadn't already been drinking long before that."
Lorelai gasped dramatically. "Oh, Luke, shame on you!" She shook her head and turned solemnly to Rory. "Sometimes teenagers – usually boys – feel the need to drink alcohol before the law allows. That's something you should never, ever do," she said primly.
Rory sighed loudly and rolled her eyes. "Go on with your story," she urged Luke.
"Listen to your mother," he digressed momentarily, nodding towards Lorelai. "Anyway, we spent that whole day at the lake, fishing together. When we stopped to take a break and eat our lunch, Dad started talking about how it wasn't necessary to go outside of your comfort zone to be happy. About how it was OK to stay close to home and find something satisfying to do there. He listed how many jobs he'd gone through before he figured out he wanted to open a hardware store. He said that once he took the chance and started planning out the store, he realized he was meant to do that all along."
Luke thought back to that quiet day by the lake. "To me, Dad had always been this hardworking, focused dynamo. It was a revelation to hear that he'd once been as lost and confused as I was right then. It really helped to hear that, you know?"
"I can imagine," Lorelai agreed softly.
"And then he talked a little bit about how equally important it was to find somebody who supported you and your dreams. How important it was to find someone to be true partners with. He didn't say anything specifically against Rachel, but I knew he didn't think much of her plan to leave Stars Hollow and never come back. He'd always been polite to her, but it was pretty obvious he hoped she wasn't the one I ended up with, not so much because he didn't like her, but because he knew I wouldn't be happy away from home."
Rory suddenly sat forward in her chair and opened her mouth, looking as if she had some investigative questions on the tip of her tongue concerning his missing girlfriend, and Luke braced himself for the onslaught. But then she glanced over at her mom and seemed to decide against digging any deeper. "Um, what else did you do that day?" she asked instead, sounding politely subdued
"We fished some more, drank a couple of the beers. Late afternoon we packed up and headed home, stopped at a restaurant some friends own not too far from here and had a couple of great steaks."
"That does sound like a lovely day. No wonder it's one of your favorites," Lorelai commented. She laughed disparagingly. "I can't imagine my dad ever doing something like that with me – or my mother either, for that matter! Lecturing me about everything I was doing wrong, now that I could believe!"
"Well, I'd always looked up to my dad, and it helped me a lot to hear he'd struggled some too, to find his place. Made me feel like I could relax a little bit and not panic so much about the state of my life." Luke toyed with the stem of his wine glass. "And by the time my birthday rolled around the next year, we knew my dad was sick. So that birthday trip sort of took on even more significance, because it turned out to be the last time the two of us had such an easy, relaxed day like that, when we could be 100% happy."
By the time he finished talking, he noticed that Lorelai and Rory were exchanging significant looks and hidden smiles between them. He wondered what their secret was, but he felt so mellow after his reminiscing and the wine that he didn't feel the need to question them about it.
"Did you catch any fish?" Rory piped up, breaking his introspective mood.
He thought for a minute, then grinned and shook his head. "You know, I can't even remember. Fishing wasn't what the day was really about."
The three of them sat in comfortable silence for a few moments.
"Do you want some more pasta? Chicken?" Lorelai eventually roused herself enough to ask.
Luke held up his hands, palms out. "Not another bite."
"But there's dessert!" Distressed, Rory moved to the edge of her seat.
"How about we retire into the other room and do presents first? Then we can have dessert and candles and singing later," Lorelai suggested.
Luke raised an eyebrow. "There are presents?" he asked Rory.
She nodded vigorously. "Of course there are presents, Luke."
"Sure, then let's leave the dessert until afterwards."
"Great." Lorelai stood up. "Rory, help me clear the table, and then we'll start presents."
"I can –" Luke began.
"No, you can't," Lorelai cut him off. "This is our thing tonight. You go relax in the living room and we'll be right there."
Feeling guilty, Luke stood up and did as he was told.
"Oh, wait!"
He turned to see that Lorelai was emptying the last of the wine bottle into his glass.
"Lorelai," he began to protest.
"Oh, hush!" She thrust the glass into his hand. "It's your birthday, Luke. Live a little."
He settled into the recliner and leaned back. His hands folded over his stomach and his eyes slowly closed. Like all of his days, this one had started early.
It seemed like only a second later when Rory pounced on the back of the recliner, waking him. "Present time!" she crooned. She handed him a gift and then went and sat by her mother on the couch.
Luke had a sudden moment of shyness wash over him and fervently wished he could get out of being the center of attention. But he smiled stoically and began to open up the gift.
"We're going to be here all night," Lorelai muttered to Rory, watching Luke carefully unstick one portion of the wrapping paper from the scotch tape.
"Hey, you open presents your way, I open them mine," he replied.
"Fine, fine," Lorelai grumbled.
Knowing it bugged her, he took even longer unsticking the other end of the gift, but finally the wrapping paper fell off and he opened the lid of the square box underneath it.
Rory came over and stood beside him as he pulled some packets of sandpaper out of the box and a couple of sanding blocks.
"This is great," he told her sincerely.
She was nodding knowingly. "No matter what we make, we always have to sand it. I've seen how fast sandpaper gets used, so I thought it would be helpful to have more."
"Always," he agreed. "Thanks, Rory."
"You're welcome," she said, sounding satisfied. She started back to the couch, but Lorelai stopped her.
"Here, give Luke my present," she requested, handing a larger rectangular gift to the girl.
Luke made a show of shaking it, then began to painstakingly separate the wrapping paper from the box.
"Oh for the love of God," Lorelai fumed.
He ducked his head and grinned, enjoying tormenting her.
When he lifted the lid, a beautiful blue plaid met his eyes.
"Thought you could probably use another one, since flannel shirts now seem to be your daily uniform," Lorelai observed.
"I like flannel shirts." He pulled it out of the box, holding it up for inspection. A sky-blue t-shirt fell out from under it and landed on his knees.
"I've noticed you usually wear a colored tee underneath."
"Yeah, I usually do." He ran his hand over the soft material, wondering if she'd done the same thing when she picked it out. "Nice color," he told her. "Thanks."
"I wanted to make sure those blue eyes of yours popped. Give Patty and the other ladies in town something more to drool over."
"Well…" He sighed, choosing to ignore her comment. "Thanks. I hate clothes shopping, so I appreciate having my wardrobe expanded without me having to do it."
"You're welcome." Lorelai drew in a big breath, almost as if she was nervous. "And…we have one more gift."
"You didn't need to do that. I already feel spoiled the way it is."
Lorelai nodded at Rory, who got up once again and shyly handed Luke a small, shallow box.
"This is from both of us, and sort of from someone else, too." Lorelai took another deep breath. "We'll explain more after you open it."
Rory sat down next to Lorelai, as close to her mother as she could get. Lorelai put her arm around Rory, offering comfort, and then both of them watched him intently, worry apparent on both of their faces.
Very curious about what this last present was, Luke opened it faster than the first two. When he pulled off the lid, he saw a wristwatch cradled into the satin interior. At first he couldn't imagine why they would give him a watch when the one currently on his arm worked just fine. But then he noticed the old fashioned numbers on the dial, and a faint memory stirred.
He lifted the watch out of its resting place, and as soon as his fingers glided over the watch's casing, something clicked.
"This is my dad's watch," he said faintly. He looked at the girls, still a little puzzled. "This is my dad's watch," he said again, louder, more confidently this time.
They both nodded at him, still appearing tense.
"I haven't seen this in years." He flipped it over and ran the tip of his index finger over the letters and numbers scratched in the metal there. "How in the world did you get my dad's watch?"
"You start," Lorelai told Rory.
"OK," she said, scooting forward on the couch. "We weren't sure what to get you for your birthday, and I thought that maybe Mr. Tallman would have an idea. So Mom found his number in the phone book and called and asked if we could go talk to him sometime, and he said yes. So I showed Mom how to get there, and we drove out to the farm one day a couple of weeks ago."
"We sort of thought that maybe there was some sort of fancy tool you could use in the shop, and Ed could tell us what to go buy," Lorelai continued the story. She laughed, remembering. "Ed is one cool dude. We had a great visit with him."
"Clinton came in and sat with his head on my lap," Rory added.
Lorelai chuckled again. "Yeah, that dog knows a soft touch when he sees one. Lots of ear rubbing going on there. Maybe a couple of belly rubs too. Anyway, before we knew it, an hour had just flown by, and it was time for us to leave. That was when Ed got up and said he thought he had something you'd like more than another tool for the shop. He came back in with this watch."
"So do you?" Rory asked anxiously. "Do you like it?"
Luke swallowed hard and nodded. He hadn't stopped fingering the timepiece since he'd pulled it out of the box. "I love it," he said, his voice sounding a little husky.
"Ed said that he'd let you tell us the whole story behind it," Lorelai told him.
He looked down at the watch and noticed something. "Hey, it's running! Did you get it fixed somehow?"
Lorelai was now sitting as far forward on the couch as Rory was. "Yeah, we took it to the jeweler on the other side of the square. Jeremy was able to take it apart and find what was wrong with it, and since it's an old Timex, he was able to find the parts he needed to fix it pretty easily. He replaced the crystal and cleaned it up. We picked out a new strap for it, because the old one had practically fallen to pieces."
"Wow," Luke said softly, staring down at the tangible memory in his hand.
"You'll have to remember to wind it every day though," Lorelai said. "It's so old it's not battery-operated."
"I'll remember," he murmured.
"So tell us the story," Rory prodded him.
"Yeah, tell us why Ed had your dad's watch," Lorelai chimed in.
"Sure." Luke sucked air into his lungs, trying, and failing, to find his composure. "But first…" He got up and moved over to the couch, motioning for them to make room. He fit himself between them, then put an arm around each of them, hugging them close to him on either side. "Thank you," he told them, squeezing them to him tightly.
"You're welcome," Lorelai said, sounding relieved.
"I'm just so happy you're happy," Rory confessed.
"Why would you think I wouldn't be?"
"Because sometimes stuff about your dad makes you sad, and I didn't want you to be sad on your birthday," Rory explained earnestly.
"No, I'm not sad," he assured her, giving her another one-armed hug. "This is amazing, to be looking at his watch again. I can't believe I'm sitting here holding it." He put his head against hers for a moment, then leaned the other direction, doing the same to Lorelai.
She cuddled against him, drawing her feet up on the couch so that she could curl up beside him. His heart melted a bit at how perfect that felt, to have her there.
He cleared his throat and brought his arms away from their shoulders so he could study the watch again, which he'd been keeping clasped in his right hand. "It was January, 1980," he began. "The Super Bowl was approaching. Now, my dad wasn't a huge football fan, he was more concerned with baseball, but you know how it is, everyone talks about the Super Bowl."
Lorelai gave a little snort of disagreement from beside him.
"Most guys talk about the Super Bowl," he amended. "And I don't know why that year, but Dad was dead set against the Pittsburgh Steelers. Maybe he'd read something about them that had rubbed him the wrong way, but for some reason he was totally against them. He was pretty vocal about it. Said that they'd already won enough Super Bowl rings and it was somebody else's turn. He wasn't especially thrilled about the Rams either, but he let everybody know that in his opinion, the Rams were going to win."
Rory looked confused. "The rams? Like goats?"
"Los Angeles Rams. Another football team. They were going to play against the Steelers in the Super Bowl that year."
Both girls nodded. "And the Super Bowl is…?" Lorelai questioned further.
For a second, Luke bought her naïve question and jerked his head around to look at her in shock. Then he saw her tongue-in-cheek smile.
"To continue, my dad was being pretty obnoxious about his preference, and Ed finally got sick of it. He proclaimed his allegiance to the Steelers, which caused him and my dad to have some pretty sharp words. They were throwing stats and predictions back and forth every day. Finally my dad said he was so sure the Rams were going to win that he'd bet his watch on it."
Rory gasped.
"A couple of years before, Ed's farm had won an award for milk production, and he had the plaque up on his living room wall, in a place of prominence. He was really proud of it, and he said that if the Rams won, he'd give my dad that plaque."
"Go, Ed!" Lorelai cheered.
"Finally the night of the game arrived, and we all gathered out at the farm to watch it together. The final score was Steelers 31, Rams 19. My dad had lost. The room got really quiet, and we all waited to see what he was going to do." Luke paused dramatically.
"What happened?" Rory was enthralled with the story.
"Dad stood up, and painstakingly unbuckled the watch from his wrist. He handed it over to Ed, not saying a word. Then, before Ed could do anything else, Dad reached into his pocket and took out a brand new wristwatch and began putting it on.
"Ed started to crow. 'Will, you must have been pretty sure you were going to lose, having a new watch all ready to go!'
"My dad just kept calmly strapping on the new watch. 'Nah,' he said. 'That one stopped working about a month ago. I had to buy a new one.'" Luke stopped, smiling and shaking his head.
The girls broke out laughing as they got the joke.
"He bet a broken watch?!" Lorelai looked delighted. "That's awesome!"
"What did Ed do then?" Rory questioned.
"First he made my dad scratch his initials and 'XIV' for that year's Super Bowl onto the back." Luke flipped the watch over, showing the marks to the girls. "Then he put it on, saying it was the principle of the thing, and not if the watch worked or not. And from then on, every year when it got to be Super Bowl time, Ed would start wearing the watch again, just to rub it in that he'd won and my dad had lost."
"Great story!" Lorelai patted his shoulder in approval.
"Did they have other bets?" Rory wondered.
"Oh yeah, every year they'd wager something. One year it was that the loser had to shine every pair of the winner's shoes. Another time it was the loser making dinner for the winner for a whole week." Luke's smile faltered. "They were really great friends. I know…I know Ed misses him too."
Lorelai put a comforting hand on his elbow. "Ed really wanted you to have this back, Luke."
Luke shook off whatever sadness was threatening. "I'll go see him this week. Let him know how much I appreciate him passing this on to me." He took off his old watch and put on the one that had once kept his dad on time. "Thank you, both of you." He held out his wrist, showing off the refurbished timepiece. "I can't tell you how much this means to me. Thank you so much for doing this. I'm…overwhelmed. This has been some birthday, thanks to you."
"You're welcome," Lorelai said softly, tucking against his side again.
"And it's not over!" Rory jumped up off the couch and turned to face him. "There's still dessert," she reminded them, waggling her eyebrows.
"That's right." Perhaps a little reluctantly, Lorelai left her cozy spot on the couch. "We need to do a little construction in the kitchen. We'll call you as soon as we're ready."
The girls headed into the kitchen and Luke admired his new watch for a little bit, listening with half an ear to the noises and voices in what was usually his silent apartment. Soon he got up and folded up the used wrapping paper, collected the empty boxes, and generally straightened up the birthday disarray.
"You're not doing any work in there, are you?" Lorelai scolded from the kitchen.
"No, of course not," he said, continuing to pick up.
"We're ready!" Rory sang out. "Come on in!"
Both of the girls were standing behind the table, where something round and white and delicate-looking, topped with fruit and a glowing candle, sat waiting for him. As he walked closer they began singing the birthday song to him.
Rory sang enthusiastically, her girlish voice loud and sincere if not completely in-tune. Lorelai hammed it up, theatrically throwing up her arms and hitting some of the notes in an extra-shrill way that made his ears hurt.
"What was that?" He glowered at Lorelai when they reached the end of the verse and stopped singing.
Lorelai and Rory exchanged confused glances. "It's, uh, 'Happy Birthday,'" Lorelai started. "A song that is traditionally offered to the person celebrating the birthday. Generally preceding the cake-eating."
"And the blowing out of the candle," Rory added, pointing to the one burning in front of her.
"No, I mean, why did you sing like that? I know that's not your real singing voice," he accused her.
Rory quirked an eyebrow and looked at her mom, speculation plain on her face.
Lorelai floundered for a response. "Well, it's just…it's a silly song, you know, and when everyone's listening, you just sort of…go with it, and…" She grabbed a breath, visibly flustered. "Can we just continue here?"
Luke suddenly realized how stupid he was, reminding her of the conversation he'd been doing his best to pretend hadn't happened. "Sure, sure," he awkwardly agreed.
Rory stepped up and took over, seeing that neither adult was up to the task. "Make a wish, Luke. Blow out the candle!"
He inhaled deeply, thinking that he couldn't imagine anything better than having a birthday just like this one for every year to come. Conscious of the watch on his wrist and the two sets of blue eyes watching his every move, he leaned forward and blew out the flame while the girls cheered.
Rory plucked out the candle and Lorelai began to cut through the beautiful confection, which he now saw was not a cake.
"What is this?"
"Meringue," Rory eagerly told him.
"It's called a Pavlova," Lorelai explained, serving the piece to him. "A circle of baked meringue, filled with a raspberry sauce and topped with fruit in a syrup. Sookie thought you might like it better than a birthday cake and icing."
Luke held up his plate in front of his face, studying it. "Wow, looks incredible."
"Wait until you taste it!" Rory was impatiently waiting for her own piece. "Sookie showed me how to beat up the meringue. It took forever."
"And I made the sauce," Lorelai told him, rather proudly.
"And I read up all about Anna Pavlova. She was a ballerina, and when she toured in Australia they created this dessert for her," Rory told him.
"I can think of no greater tribute than to have a dessert named after you," Lorelai declared reverently, taking her first blissful bite.
Luke chuckled and finally took his own bite. "This tastes as good as it looks. Be sure to give Sookie my compliments."
Both of them looked at him sourly. "Hey!" Lorelai complained.
"Sookie supervised, but we made this," Rory insisted.
"Oh, sorry." Luke looked closer at the fancy dessert, even more impressed than he was initially. "Tell you what, if I ever make a dessert for you, I'll make sure it's espresso flavored, OK?"
Lorelai got a dreamy look on her face. "That would be heavenly. My birthday's in April, by the way. Gives you a lot of time to get it right."
"I'll keep that in mind," Luke promised, and happily took another bite.
The remainder of the evening finished up quickly, since Lorelai apologetically pointed out that Rory had school the next day. They made Luke go sit back down in the living room while they cleaned up the kitchen, but when it came time to carry everything down to their car, Luke insisted on helping.
"I'm not sitting here, letting you two struggle with all of that stuff while I sit here like a lazy bum and watch you. If it's my birthday and I'm the boss, that's what I want to do," he told them, not allowing them to disagree.
With his help, it only took one trip down the stairs, across the diner, out the door into the brisk fall night, and then crossing the street to the car.
When they came back up to the well-lit apartment, only one box and one bag were still sitting by the door.
"We can handle that," Lorelai said, surveying the small pile of 'to-go' items left. "No more schlepping necessary for you, Birthday Boy."
Luke sighed and crossed his arms, but decided he'd have to be content with knowing he'd helped them with the first load.
Rory came up and tugged on her mother, making her bend down to hear. "Bathroom," he heard her whisper.
"OK, but make it quick," Lorelai responded, and Rory dashed off.
Once Rory left, there was a slight pause between them, while they got used to how the atmosphere shifted when it was just the two of them. Normally Luke would have categorized that change of atmosphere as awkwardness, but tonight awkward was the last thing he was feeling. Tonight he felt blessed, and happy, and…uncharacteristically optimistic.
He put a hand on Lorelai's shoulder, sort of the way he would on any day with Rory. But this wasn't the friendly, paternal pat he'd grown used to giving Rory. His fingers gently clung to Lorelai's shoulder, turning the gesture more into a caress than a pat.
She noticed the difference at once, of course, and turned to look at him, smiling somewhat quizzically.
"Thanks," he said, his voice grave and husky. He used his hand on her shoulder as leverage, to pull himself another step closer to her. "If Rory ever asks me again what my favorite birthday is, I'll have a new answer for her. I'll never forget this night with the two of you."
She tried to be spunky, to counteract his seriousness. "It's still your birthday, you know. Your wish is still my command. Between now and midnight, if you think of anything else, I'll run right back and do your bidding."
"Anything?" He wanted to sound lighthearted, to match her tone, but instead the word came out drenched in about a dozen other emotions, none of which were things that should be on the table between two people who were 'just friends.'
"Oh, absolutely," she teased, still trying to keep the conversation on the friendly side. "We didn't do the birthday spanking, for example. You know, if you're into that sort of thing."
His hand absolutely refused to leave her shoulder. In fact, it was gradually creeping up her collarbone, heading towards that crisp open collar and the graceful column of her neck. "Nope, not interested in that."
"Nothing kinky, huh?" She was still teasing, but there was a hint of something else beginning to warm up her words. "Well…I do believe there's a birthday kiss tradition. How do you feel about a birthday kiss?" she asked a little breathlessly.
His other hand captured her waist and drew her closer to him. "I like that idea," he murmured. Those persistent fingers of his finally left her collarbone, to twirl through a few of her silky curls hanging close by. His thumb stretched out to trace over her jaw, and then raised her chin a small amount.
Her eyes went wide and all of the teasing left her face. She put both of her hands flat on his chest, possibly in warning. "Is this…are you…you're sure?"
"That I want to kiss you?" He dipped his face closer to hers, taking his time, wanting to savor the moment, even though he was aware that they had no time to waste. "Absolutely," he confirmed.
He heard her breathing hitch as he pulled her even closer. He sank down to meet her lips, wondering if he'd be able to taste the raspberry sauce and the sweet meringue there. With a jolt, he realized he'd been thinking about that even as they were eating the luscious dessert.
Kissing her.
Holding her.
Loving her.
"This is real," she whispered, her arms finally slipping around him, cancelling out her initial warning.
"Yes," he whispered back, in complete agreement.
The sudden ringing of the telephone was like an atomic bomb going off three feet away from them. They leapt apart, disoriented by the interruption.
Both of them made to grab the phone.
"Nuh-uh," Lorelai said, desperately trying to return her demeanor to playfulness. "This is my chore. You do no work, remember?"
He could only stare at her, his heart still beating about a hundred times faster than it should have been.
She grabbed up the receiver, gamely trying to grin at him. "A gracious good evening to you! You've reached the birthday boy's residence. Whom may I say is calling?"
Luke shook his head and began to smile back at her, his poise slowly returning. He wondered if it was his sister on the other end of the line. It would be a minor miracle if she remembered today was his birthday, but it was always possible.
Lorelai suddenly stood up straight and tall, the way he'd seen her react when her mother had called unexpectedly one evening. The color and the smile drained from her face.
"Yes. Yes, of course," she replied robotically. She pressed the receiver into his hand, not looking at him, then started moving towards the door. "Rory!" she yelled. "Let's go!"
Rory came trotting out of the bathroom. "Sure, let me –"
"No. Now. We're going." Lorelai already had slipped into her coat and was trying to force Rory's arm into one of the sleeves in her own jacket.
"You don't have to –" Luke tried to protest.
"Yeah, we do." Lorelai slipped the straps of the bag over Rory's shoulder and grabbed up the box. "School night, you know. We need to go."
Rory was still trying to catch up to what was going on. "But –"
"No, Rory, now! It's late." Lorelai jerked open the door.
More confused than defiant, Rory spun around to Luke. "You're going to be at school next week, right, for our constitution celebration? You know I'm reading a part."
Luke tried to get his brain back into gear. "When is that?"
"Wednesday. The 23rd," she added, when he still looked lost.
He shook his head. "Sorry. I won't be around that day."
She looked stunned. "What do you mean, you won't be around?"
"I mean, I can't. I'm…out of town that day."
"But –"
"Rory! Now!" Lorelai's mother-voice had never been sharper.
Rory sighed and turned to go.
"Thanks again!" Luke yelled, as the door shut forcefully behind them. It was only when the silence in the apartment grew that he remembered the phone in his hand.
"Hello?" he asked cautiously.
A woman's warm chuckle met his ear. "Well hello there, birthday boy."
For a split second he forgot how to talk. "Rachel," he finally managed to say.
She was snickering now. "Oh, Luke. Who was that?"
He shut his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck. "Just…just a friend."
"Hey, I'm not trying to bust you on anything here. If you've found someone, I'm happy. You know that's what I want for you, to go on with your life. I just wanted to call and wish you a happy birthday. No ulterior motive at all."
"No, it's not like that." He felt a little sick, since it had almost been like that. "She's a friend. She and her daughter came by to bring me a birthday dinner. They were just leaving. School tomorrow, you know."
"She has a daughter?"
"Yeah. Just turned 11."
Rachel laughed again. "Well then, I guess I really don't need to worry about her. I know how you feel about kids."
"Rory's great," he protested, instantly coming to her defense.
"I'm sure she is, but I know you, and your strong anti-kid feelings," she said mildly. "Rory, huh? That's unusual."
"I guess."
"Who's the mom? Does she live in Stars Hollow? Anyone I know?"
"I doubt it," he grumbled. "She's been working at the Independence for about 10 years now, just recently got promoted to assistant manager. Earlier this year they moved into that blue house over on the end of Maple Street."
"Oh, it's the runaway girl Mia took in all those years ago?"
"You know about that?" Luke felt hurt and excluded. "Did Mia tell you?"
"Mia tell me?" Rachel half-laughed, half-scoffed. "Luke, you know Mia hates me. Can you imagine her telling me anything?
"Mia doesn't hate you."
"She doesn't like me very much. I hurt her boy."
He didn't try to counter that, because it was essentially true. "Then how did you know?"
Her warm chuckles came over the phone. "Luke, everyone knew. It was your basic town gossip at the time, the poor little teenager living in the shed out behind the Inn with her baby in tow."
After a moment of silence on his end, her laughter grew. "You didn't know? Oh Luke, that is so you! You and your penchant to turn a deaf ear to any and all gossip! See what you miss by doing that?"
Something bitter, something regretful, buzzed around his head at her words. He wondered, painfully, what he had missed by not knowing about Lorelai.
Even over the phone, Rachel could apparently sense his mood and tactfully tried to steer them in another direction. "Well, tell me what's going on. What's Kirk been up to? Taylor still driving you crazy? And…" Her voice grew softer. "How are you? Tell me about the diner. Tell me about you."
He had to swallow hard, several times, to clear away the anger that had inexplicably built up inside him. He was suddenly incredibly angry at Rachel. Angry that she'd left him here alone, left him to figure out everything on his own, leaving him to stew in limbo for so long. But also, he was angry that she'd interrupted his time with Lorelai; angry that her phone call had ruined what had been such an amazing night. He was even angry with himself, disgusted that he was possibly leading Lorelai down a path he had no right to be following.
Luke forced his brain to stop. He took a cleansing breath. He reminded himself that Rachel – his Rachel, after all – had made sure, in spite of everything wrong between them, to call on his birthday. He'd been praying to hear her voice for months, and here she was. Even though he was the one who'd told her to go away and not come back, she still cared enough to reach out to him today.
Maybe…maybe this would prove to be their tipping point. Maybe this would be the conversation to finally bring them back. To remind Rachel of what she was missing. To confirm to them both that their connection still held, no matter how many miles stretched out between them.
Maybe fate had stepped in and arranged this timely call to stop him from promising something to Lorelai that he couldn't wholeheartedly deliver. Because if he should mislead her in any way, he'd never be able to live with himself.
"No," he choked out, trying to get out from under all of the warring emotions tearing him apart. "Tell me about you instead. Tell me where you are. Tell me what you see."
She hesitated. "You're sure you want to hear all that?"
"Yes," he insisted, closing his eyes again.
He listened to her sigh, so far away from him. "I'm in India. I'm staying with a couple I met last year when I did that shoot in Borneo. They told me to look them up if I ever found myself here. I'm just having my first cup of morning tea, but outside the whole city is already bustling. People are shouting, the traffic is roaring by. The sun is beating down and the colors are so bright they almost hurt your eyes…"
He did nothing but concentrate on her voice. He listened to her tell him about people he didn't know and places he had no desire to ever see.
He wasn't sure if falling right back into that familiar pattern with her was something to celebrate or the most disappointing thing he'd ever done.