"I like that plan," Lydia tells him with a hum of amusement. She doubts if anyone will ever really remember her birthday, even a made up one as a placeholder, in this place. There's always too much going on and little things like that just don't matter that much, to most people. They matter to Lydia because her birthday was always sort of an event back home. High school royalty swarmed the Martin house or lake house once a year for a huge party; the one time her parents would agree to let her throw one when they weren't around. But that was then. This is now. The thought is nice, though.

While Lydia appreciates his comforting gesture, she doesn't really acknowledge it beyond a sad smile and a little nod. Thinking about Allison still hurts. Talking about her hurts more. This is about as far as Lydia can go with it if she wants to keep herself together and she and Dick aren't that close yet; she wants to keep herself together in front of him.

"Exactly," she says reassuringly. "So, it'll be fine. If he shows up, you'll be able to tell if he's a crappy copy of himself or if he's really him. You'll just know."

Lydia looks back at her foam and taps her fingernails against the table top. "I'm gonna need to let this set. Wanna play fetch with Gucci and I for a little while?" she offers, keen to be off the subject of missing friends.