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Two days ago, Bentina Beakley was on her way to her first real vacation in years.
She was putting her bags into the back of the jeep and reminding the kids to do the same. Imagining soft black sands, the scent of salt water soaking into her clothes. She was planning on kicking back with a cool, fruity drink, drifting off to the sound of gentle waves rushing against the shore, not a worry in the world.
She remembers packing sunscreen, but wondering if she should pack the stuff to do her hair. And two days ago, with Webby bouncing around at her heels and chatting excitedly about their “first real family vacation,” Bentina had decided she would just let her hair down. It felt like she could finally breathe, for the first time in years.
But two days can tear apart a lot of plans.
Instead of black sand beaches, they’ve ended up in a cheap hotel room, reserved last minute, with little decor and even less charm. The light overhead is dull, and the cloudy skies outside aren’t providing much daylight. The brightest thing is the TV, flickering quietly with some show Webby chose, but isn’t watching.
Her granddaughter is sitting on one of the two beds, wrapped up in a blanket and staring blankly at the pattern on the sheets. She’s been quiet since they arrived, understandably distraught after yesterday’s… events, and if she’s honest, Bentina is too. It… it wasn’t a good day.
Bentina knows she ought to worry about their next steps instead. Knows she should be looking at finding somewhere safe to stay more permanently, or sorting out what to eat for the next few days. But everytime she tries, she thinks about what got them in this mess, about Scrooge’s bitter words and the boys’ broken hearts, and she starts to get angry before quickly turning tearful. She won’t cry in front of Webbigail, but it’s getting hard not to.
This is not how things are supposed to be.
They were supposed to be sitting on a sunny beach today, seeking mysteries and magic with their family. Not hunkered down in a hotel room feeling like there’s not much left to call family at all. At least they have each other, but… it’s little comfort for Webby’s broken heart. She’s usually so bright and cheerful, but today her eyes are puffy from crying and her expression blank. Seeing her like this almost breaks Bentina’s heart, too.
She was supposed to protect Webby. To care for her and keep her safe and happy, as long as she needs it. And she’s failed so spectacularly, they’re practically homeless. Both of them are devastated, and everything feels as bleak as their rundown surroundings. What a grandmother she’s turned out to be.
She takes a long, deep breath in, then… slowly… lets it go. She was the director of SHUSH and Scrooge’s—she was a partner to a great adventurer once. She’s faced worse than this, and she won’t let her emotions get the better of her yet. She will find a way out of this mess.
She gets up and strides toward the coffee pot. “Would you like a cup of tea, Webbigail?”
“Oh, um… yeah,” Webby sniffles. “With lots of sugar?”
“Of course, dear,” Bentina reaches for the teabags. It’s a dreadfully sparse supply, but she’ll make do. “How are you feeling?”
“I… I’m okay.”
“Are you?” Bentina puts the water on to boil, then turns to look at her granddaughter. “It’s alright if you aren’t.”
“Yeah?” Her eyes are dark, but a bit of her usual energy begins to light her face. “It’s alright if you aren’t, either.”
“I suppose so, dear,” she murmurs. “And you know what? I don’t think I am. I wish things had gone differently.”
“Me too. I miss the guys.”
“I do too.”
“Do… do you think they miss us?”
Bentina sits down on the edge of Webby’s bed. “I think the boys absolutely miss you. You’re their best friend, after all.”
“Yeah,” Webby giggles a little. “Maybe… maybe we could go see them before… before….”
“We can go visit them tomorrow,” Bentina promises, smiling reassuringly. “I’m sure they’ll be delighted to see you.”
“To see us,” Webby corrects, looking happier for the first time all day. “They like you too, you know. And maybe—maybe if we’re lucky we can talk them into staying.”
“Webby, dear, I—” the electric pot clicks, signaling the water for their tea is ready. It distracts Bentina for a brief moment, leaving the words steeping within her like the tea in their cups.
It’s not their choice, she wants to say. Sometimes bad things just happen. You can’t stop everyone from fighting no matter how much you love them, or how badly you don’t want them to leave. It’s no one’s fault that Della got lost, not Scrooge’s or Donald’s or Della herself, even. Family is just… it’s messy sometimes, and….
She finishes the tea, but not the thought.
“Here you are,” she turns, offering a warm cup to Webby. “Be careful.”
“Oh,” she takes the cup with both hands. Her voice is level, but quiet. “Thank you, Granny.”
“You’re welcome, dear,” she replies, watching Webby for a brief moment. Her eyes, usually bright with joy, open wide with curiosity, are dull and downcast. The way her shoulders hang, as if she’s barely able to hold herself up… Bentina’s own heart aches with the thought, but her dear granddaughter looks just like Scrooge.
Webby seems so numb, weighed down with a broken heart, in the same ways that Scrooge was when they last saw him. As if both of them are devastated by the distance between them. Both so lost, so hurt and lonely, that their adventurer’s spirit has vanished. And Bentina has… well… she has no idea what to do with it.
Usually, she takes everything she’s learned from SHUSH, and between years of practice and pages of protocol, she can find herself a way out. Make herself a door to help her get through. But there isn’t any protocol for finding yourself in a cheap motel room, listening to cars rush by in the rainy street. There’s no procedure for mending broken bonds, and she’s never found herself losing everything before. The closest she’s ever been was when she sacrificed everything to raise Webby, and even then, she had somewhere to turn.
Bentina sits on her bed again, setting her tea aside on the nightstand. For a moment, she just listens to the rain pour down outside, studying the brown palm tree pattern on the blanket. She remembers Monacrow again, remembers the beach and the boys’ excitement and their big plans, all forgotten in the wake of Scrooge’s bitterness getting the better of him. She finds herself growing frustrated instead, because if he could have just communicated better they’d still be together right now. They’d be working things out as a family.
Instead, she feels like she was never family at all! That he never appreciated her hard work keeping his house clean and watching his back all these years, that—a flash of lightning illuminates the room.
Thunder follows quickly, rumbling and rattling the window, and Webby gasps, startled. She scrambles from her bed to Bentina’s, and curls up at her side. Bentina reaches for the blanket, quickly reassuring her. “It’s alright, dear, I promise. It’s just the storm.”
“I know, it’s just—I just—” she takes a deep, shaky breath. “That was really loud.”
“It was,” Bentina agrees, wrapping them both in the blanket. “Everything’s going to be alright. I’ve got you.”
“I know,” she murmurs, snuggling closer. “It just… sometimes it feels like things won’t be alright.”
“They will,” Bentina reassures her, and tries to reassure herself too. “Family is… difficult sometimes, but eventually, things will all work out. Tomorrow, we’ll go visit Donald and the boys, and things will feel better once you see them again. I promise.”
“But—but what if they don’t? What if things are different now?”
“What do you mean, dear?”
“Well, Un—Scrooge said I’m not family. And nobody talked the whole way back. Everyone seemed so mad, I’m just….” She sniffles, and Bentina strokes her hair soothingly as she talks. “I’m worried we won’t talk anymore. That they’ll just go away, and I won’t… I won’t be family to them anymore. I don’t want us to be alone again.”
“I don’t either,” Bentina confesses, but continues, “but I don’t think that will happen. The boys care about you very much, dear. And besides, I don’t think Scrooge meant it.”
“You don’t?” Webby looks up, and the hope in her eyes is enough to break Bentina’s heart all over again. “Do you—do you think maybe things will end up okay? And maybe we’ll all go home again?”
“I do,” she says, though she wonders if it’s because she desperately wants it to be true, or if she actually believes it. Maybe it doesn’t matter. “I think Scrooge cares about you just as much as he does the boys, and given enough time, everything will work out in the end.”
“I hope so,” Webby sighs, leaning her head against Beakley’s side. “I hope it’s soon.”
“I do too, Webby. I do too.”
Outside, the thunder rumbles and rain pours. The streets are cold and lonely, and there’s a lot of worries on the horizon. Inside, though, it’s warm and quiet, sharing a blanket and feeling safe and sound. Tomorrow, they’ll go down to the harbor and see Donald and the triplets again, and things will feel better.
Somewhere, the sun is shining over a black sand beach, and someday, the sun will shine in Duckburg again.