DuckTales: As We Grow Older...

13

When Donald returned, loud music was blasting from his itty-bitty speaker. Dewey was dancing and singing along to a song he was quite sure was in another language. He turned off the music and told the boys to sit down.

"Boys, I went to Cape Suzette, and came back with some more presents," he said, bringing out the basket of presents.

The boys weren't excited.

"They're from your mom."

That made them happier. They took to the gifts immediately. Huey noticed a card and pulled it out of the basket to show his brothers.

"I'm sorry I can't come over, I've got work stuff to do. But, don't think I've forgotten about you. Happy birthday, my sweet little boys! Love, Mom. She's the absolute best," Huey said, hugging the card.

"I'm glad you like the presents," Donald said. "She didn't know what to get you, so she just bought these from wherever. I figured you'd be okay with it, since she was the one who was giving you this stuff."

Dewey looked at the little wooden ducks he had gotten. One looked very much like himself.

"She knows what I look like?" he asked.

"Yes, I've showed her pictures of you guys. She says you're beautiful little boys. You've got her eyes, she says, Dewey."

"Tell her we love her very much."

"Already did, I'm not doing another trip to Cape Suzette and back."

The boys hugged Donald, telling him that Della was the best mom ever. Donald bit his lip. They would never know what happened...They'll never know he bought these himself...

He felt so guilty, it made him feel sick. He wanted to tell them what happened...but who would they blame? Him, for lying their whole lives? Scrooge, for losing her in the first place? Then, it would go back to Donald; they would probably tell him that he should've persuaded Della to stay.

"Uncle Donald, are you okay?" Huey asked. "You look sick, and you're crying."

"I'm just...feeling a little bit nauseous, from the trip back...You guys enjoy your gifts, I'm gonna go lay down for a bit."

Donald hurriedly left the room. In the sanctuary of his own room, he cried in the corner.

Della's sweet little boys were turning 8, and she wasn't here to celebrate with them. She could only watch from her place up in the sky.