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Author’s Note: This takes place about 4 months after the prologue.
In the Beginning
Daisy Duck cringed from where she sat in the driver’s seat of her car, watching the feathers fly as Filler Brushbill presented Donald with piles upon piles of Quackerware. There were so many Quackerware sets that she could barely see the front lawn of her boyfriend’s new house at this point. Donald had his arms folded and was grumbling to himself and stamping his foot in anger while Brushbill furiously punched the prices into his calculator to give Donald the bill and hurry off before the hapless duck could change his mind.
Filler Brushbill was Duckburg’s very own “super duper salesman”, and if one wanted to keep their money in their bank account, it was wise not to open the door when he came knocking. But Brushbill wasn’t called a super duper salesman for nothing - he could sell anything to anyone in record time, even Donald’s uncle, Scrooge; a true testament to his amazing ability if there ever was one.
Knowing Brushbill’s reputation, Daisy had kissed Donald quickly when she’d seen Brushbill coming up the street and hurried off to her car, determined to avoid hearing about great deals on summer dresses, flowery perfume, stationary sets, and other assorted things that she didn’t need, but could be tempted into buying.
Daisy started the car and put it into drive, glancing one more time at Donald before pulling out into the street. Quackerware wasn’t all that Donald had gotten from Brushbill. She’d noticed belatedly what appeared to be toys and games on the left side of the lawn and wondered why Donald would buy those. She was sure they were for the boys, but it wasn’t their birthday and Christmas was months away.
Donald seemed to want to pick up right where he left off when it came to the triplets, as if the time he’d been away had only amounted to days instead of years. He’d taken them out every weekend without fail for the past month. Sometimes he even picked them up from school during the week to see a movie or go to the park. Life in the navy hadn’t changed him much - it hadn’t even improved his temper. His feathers were still ruffled easily. No doubt he was in a fine mood right now, reading Brushbill’s receipt and carrying all that Quackerware into the house to place in a kitchen that was too small to store it in.
He’d gotten a job as a cameraman at Duckburg Daily, the local news show that aired every morning during the week. The host - and Donald’s boss - Bill Avian, was a tall, handsome duck that was always searching for stories that would give him the television glory he so desired. Daisy had spoken to him a few times, and while a couple of her friends would give anything to go out on just one date with him, Daisy wasn’t impressed. He was too conceited for her taste.
Her relationship with Donald had slowed to a near stop while he was in the navy. They had just begun to go out again. If she had a dime for every time that one of her friends had asked her why she was still with him, she might have been as rich as Flintheart Glomgold, if not Scrooge. They said that she was foolish staying so long with someone who wouldn’t make that final commitment to her. Her closest friend, Gandra Dee, advised her to pay no attention to them as long as she was happy.
Was she happy? Daisy thought she was. She’d been with Donald for so long that it felt like they were married. She and Donald had their fights, but that was normal. There was no real fire to their relationship, just a comforting familiarity, but that wasn’t a bad thing, was it? And it was to be expected, given how long they had been a couple. Still, every once and a while, she found herself envying Gandra and Fenton and their newly discovered feelings for each other.
Daisy sighed and turned onto the road that would lead her to Scrooge’s mansion. She’d been staying in one of the many guest bedrooms for the past two months. Earlier in the year Scrooge’s housekeeper, Mrs. Beakley, has passed away, leaving the boys and her granddaughter without a nanny. Daisy had just quit her job and had been looking for something new. To her chagrin, Donald had volunteered her to help with the boys until Scrooge found someone to replace Mrs. Beakley, and once she’d met Webbigail Vanderquack she’d been unable to say no. The little girl had immediately attached herself to Daisy’s side.
Finding a new nanny was proving to be a difficult task, and so far no one had been hired. Daisy knew it came down to a few things for Scrooge: cost, finding someone Webby and the boys would accept, and cost: Scrooge was nothing if not determined when it came to saving money. Daisy knew that Mrs. Beakley had taken the job for room and board for herself and Webby rather than for cash. The boys had gotten a good nanny, and Daisy doubted it had cost Scrooge a dime.
Back when Donald had first informed her that he wanted to join the navy, “What about your nephews?” had been the first thing she’d asked him. “You can’t just abandon three children!” she’d exclaimed, more than a little upset at him for being so absent minded - and for making a decision that would keep him not only from the boys, but from her, as well.
When he’d announced that he planned to leave the triplets with Scrooge, Daisy had had so many misgivings.
She remembered her reaction very distinctly: “Donald, he’ll neglect them. You’re always telling me how busy he is and how obsessive he is about his money. He’s not capable of caring for them. He can provide for them, if he’ll even be willing to do that, but caring for them…. Have you thought this through at all?”
Donald had shrugged and said that he trusted his uncle, ‘old skinflint’ that he was, to be able to handle it. After realizing that he had his mind made up, Daisy had given up trying to argue with him and accepted his decision to leave her and the boys behind, and instead hoped for the best. Donald had shipped out, she was left to her own devices, Scrooge became the boys’ guardian, and Daisy had been sure that they would be sent off to a distant -and cheap - boarding school within a month.
Boarding school had never happened. Donald had left the boys to join the navy because he’d wanted to see the world, but Daisy knew the boys had seen much more of the world than Donald had aboard a naval ship. Scrooge had taken them on adventure after adventure in search of gold and treasure and new business deals that would enhance his wealth. Sometimes when the boys were bored they would tell her about their trips, describing in great detail the danger and excitement. At first she’d thought (and hoped) they were exaggerating, but a few casual mentions to Scrooge about their stories proved them to be accurate.
Daisy gave a quick glance at the clock on the dashboard; the boys would be getting out of school soon.
When she reached the mansion, Duckworth opened the door for her with a polite, “Good afternoon, Miss Duck,” and returned to where the vacuum stood in the middle of the foyer. She’d been trying ever since she moved in to get him to call her Daisy, but he was still as stiffly formal as ever.
She found Webby in her bedroom, arranging her dolls around a table filled with tiny plastic teacups.
"Daisy!”
Webby’s smile wasn’t as bright as it could be, but Daisy was just grateful to see the girl’s smile at all. Losing her grandmother had been so hard on her, and though Daisy had been looking after all of them, she worried about Webby the most.
“Hey, Webby.” She went into the room and knelt down next to her. “Want to go with me to get the boys from school?”
Webby nodded and reached for her Quackypatch doll. Daisy took her other hand and the two of them made their way back down the stairs and out to Daisy’s car. Once Webby was seated beside her she got the car started and turned on the radio.
“Is St. Canard big enough for both Darkwing Duck and Gizmoduck, Duckburg’s very own hero? I think-”
Daisy rolled her eyes and changed the station. If there was one duck she couldn’t tolerate, it was DT103’s Quentin Quackers. Daisy had met him once at a job interview in St. Canard, several months before he was hired on at Duckburg’s radio station, and never in her life had she met someone so annoying. His voice alone was enough to give her a headache for hours. His favorite topic was the supposed ‘rivalry’ of Darkwing Duck and Gizmoduck. He loved to tell tall tales of fights between them, detailing how deeply they despised each other. Daisy wouldn’t have been at all surprised to find out they didn’t like each other much, but she figured Quackers was exaggerating. He excelled at exaggeration.
Huey, Dewey and Louie were waiting in front of the school’s entrance when she arrived and their faces fell when they saw her. She remembered that Scrooge had promised to get them on their last day before summer break and take them out for ice cream.
Daisy frowned as the boys trudged dejectedly towards her car, going over the last several weeks in her mind and realizing that Scrooge had been staying longer at the money bin, or working in his study until well into the evening. Before Donald had left the boys in his care those actions were probably typical of him, but they were not so typical of him now.
“Hi, Daisy!” they greeted her in unison.
To their credit, they tried very hard to sound happy to see her. She gave them a regretful smile.
“I’m sorry Uncle Scrooge isn’t here.”
“He promised,” Huey protested.
“It isn’t like Unca Scrooge not to keep his promise to us,” Dewey stated.
“Yeah,” Louie added.
“I know, boys, but he’s still trying to find someone to fill in for Mrs. Beakley,” Daisy said gently, fully aware of the little girl in the seat next to her. “Now, what do you say we go get some ice cream? We can take some back to the mansion for your Uncle Scrooge.”
That perked them up a bit, but it was obvious they were still disappointed on the drive to Duckburg’s Ice Cream Parlor.
“Made it square!” Donald finished the famous quote, rolling his eyes up into his head as he searched through the radio stations until he found one that didn’t have anything to say about his rich uncle. He settled on DT103 and went back into the kitchen.
Grumbling about what he would do to Filler Brushbill the next time he saw him, Donald lifted a stack of Quackerware and opened one of the cabinet doors to try and put them on the bottom shelf. He managed to get only half of the stack inside the cabinet. Cursing to himself, he dropped the others back on the counter and began to hunt for an empty space he could put them in, if only just to get them out of his sight.
As Donald stuffed them in with the glasses and pitchers, Quentin Quackers sounded even more hyper than usual as he introduced Dr. Swana, a ‘leading psychologist’ that had a two page spread in the weekly tabloid where she helped those in need to find and resolve their ‘inner issues’.
“Today I’ll be speaking to DT103’s listeners about masked vigilantes. Who are they? What is it exactly that they’re hiding? What made them decide to don a mask and place themselves above the law? In the next half hour, I will attempt to provide answers to the lucky listeners of DT103.”
“Ah, phooey,” Donald muttered. He would have been better off listening to more reports about Uncle Scrooge.
What was the big idea with ducks running around in masks and disguises, anyway?
With a glance at the clock, he turned the radio off in disgust and settled back against the couch in the living room. He had just enough time to take a nap before he had to head over to his uncle’s mansion and take Daisy out for dinner.
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