AN: It occurs to me that we know next to nothing about Phil's life outside of the fact that he wants all the money he can get and he manages a hockey team. I've introduced Nana, Phil's grandmother, in a previous story (Wild Wing: Team Mascot). Now, someone else in Phil's family is trying to give Duke a headache. Special thanks to Emily L'Orange for the title and Eeni for the raisins :)
Duke sighed as he slowed his bike and pulled into the long, curving driveway. Palm trees lined the expertly manicured lawn. Flowerbeds full of blooming plants and tropical foliage overflowed the bounds of the three story, stucco home. Nana's house was the exact kind of target he'd have loved hitting back in his thieving days. It was in a gated community full of people who trusted their neighbors enough to leave their doors unlocked. There were plenty of well-off, elderly folk who had amassed a fair amount of wealth in their lives and squirreled it away in hidden nooks and crevices because they didn't trust the banks. Little did they know, he was an expert at finding the secret compartments built into bookcases or envelopes of money taped to the backs of dressers. But, he'd given up that life. The reason for it wasn't here and he wished no ill will to these folk who, for the most part, had been welcoming to him and the rest of the team.
"Duke!" Nana stood from her cushioned seat on the front porch when she saw the white bike pull up in her driveway. She leaned her full weight on the intricately carved, cherry wood cane she needed to get around. "It's about time you got here, you old bird."
"Yeah," he smiled as he removed the helmet and fluffed out his hair. "Sorry to keep you waiting. Grin couldn't decide if he wanted to come or not."
"He should have. He could have saved these old bones of mine from going up and down that ladder." She stretched out an arm for a hug when he walked up the porch steps.
Smiling, he leaned down and hugged the small woman, humoring her as she kissed his cheek before pinching it. Honestly, he didn't like it when she did that; but, it seemed to be a human custom reserved for close family and he was willing to accept the indignation to avoid insulting her.
"You've got the cutest cheeks," she said, patting his face. Turning around, she retrieved her purse from the chair and put the strap over her shoulder.
"So, uh, you got the stuff ready? It's a bit warm out here." He eyed the purse, curious as to why she had her purse ready to go.
"Oh, not at all! Anne was going to take me out to the paint store to pick the colors. Silly girl thought her massage was more important than my living room. Well, that's just fine, I say! We'll go get the paint ourselves. So, let's get on that fancy bike of yours and go to Sherwin Williams." She took his arm and began leading him down the stairs.
"Uh, no." He followed her, lending his arm for support to make sure she didn't fall. "I'm not taking you anywhere on that."
"Pish. I've driven tanks and walked on the wings of a biplane! You think a little thing like your motorcycle scares me? Now, help me on and we'll go get the paint."
"It ain't the motorcycle I'm worried about. I don't have a spare helmet and I'm not taking either of us out without one."
"There should be on in the garage. Phil wanted to be a daredevil in high school. He tried the bad boy image so hard; pissed off his mother to no end. When she tried to sell his motorcycle, I let him keep it here. I can use his old helmet. Why don't you let yourself in and go find it for me?"
"Nuh-uh." He shook his head. There was no way he'd let this arthritic, seventy-three year old woman ride what was pretty much a weapon. He'd only taken it because of the terrible Anaheim traffic; it was much easier to weave in and out of cars and get somewhere in a decent amount of time on the bike than if he'd taken his Spyder. "I'll go get your car. Sides, if we took the bike, there wouldn't be any room for the paint."
"You're no fun." Her dark eyes twinkled as she teased him. "Fine. We can take the Jaguar." Digging through her purse, she produced the keys. They walked around the house and to the six car garage at a leisurely pace.
0000
Deciding the loss of a little dignity was worth not having to pull paint out of his feathers, he accepted the red bandanna Nana offered and tied it around his head. He had already changed into the old t-shirt and jeans he'd brought so his good clothes wouldn't be ruined.
"Don't you look nice," Nana smiled. "Just like a pirate! You should wear that for your Halloween costume this year."
"I'll take that inta consideration." He pulled the paint can opener from his pocket and laid it down with the purchases from the paint store. "So, uh, you sure bout the color?" He glanced to her for confirmation and then to the tarp he was trying to open. He had already pushed all of the furniture in the room out into the hallway. Maybe he should have convinced Grin to come along after all; that china cabinet had been quite a bit heavier than he'd expected it to be, even with the aid of furniture sliders placed under the feet. Of course, it'd have been quite a bit lighter if Nana had let him empty it first and he wouldn't have had to be so careful about all the ceramic figurines of butterflies, princesses, and flowers inside. Who wanted little porcelain statues of Disney princesses anyway? In his opinion, they were all kind of ugly and overdone. Besides, the gold leaf on them wasn't nearly valuable enough to make them interesting.
"Of course! I'm going to redo the whole living room. New couch, new everything. You don't think any of you would like the old one, do you?"
He glanced out the arched doorway to where he had pushed the tapestry upholstered, wooden furniture. The legs were carved into lion paws while the fabric depicted pictures of Rococo women and men holding flowers out to each other while wearing ridiculous amounts of ruffles and lace.
"I doubt it. It's not really anyone's style." Finally prying apart the layers of plastic, he snapped it into the air, letting gravity help spread the protective covering as it glided to the floor. He then walked around the edges, nudging them up against the running board with his foot to ensure no paint would drip where it wasn't wanted. Luckily, Phil had taken the time yesterday to apply the painter's tape around the door frames and everywhere a sharp edge would be needed.
Accepting Nana's direction about the color, he opened one of the paint cans. The swirling, lime green paint would dry much darker than it appeared in the can. He'd warned her that it'd look like she was living in toxic waste; but, she'd insisted on choosing the vibrant color.
"Hello? Mom?" A woman's voice came from the direction of the front door.
"Anne?" Nana looked to Duke and shrugged. "I'll be right back."
"Kay." He poured some of the paint into a pan so he could get started while Nana took care of whoever had stopped by. His attention stayed focused on spreading the lime hued paint on the wall, even if he did leave an ear open to see if Nana would need any help with her guest.
"Are you ready to go?" Anne asked, her voice stern.
"Go where?" Nana's unique thump-thump walk with her cane echoed down the hallway. "I'm busy today."
"To the paint store! I thought we were going to pick the color and then call a contractor to paint your living room."
"You had your massage, so I found someone else to help. He's already started."
"Mom! You can't just go around, picking up homeless men off the corners and letting them in your house! One of these days, someone is going to rob you blind or kill you."
"Hey, I've got a home!" Duke called out. He didn't know who Anne was; but, he certainly didn't like the way she was speaking to Nana. Besides, he'd already gone around her property and secured it as much as possible against theft. He knew what people looked for when breaking in and removed those temptations. It wouldn't stop a determined thief, but would at least deter the opportunity seekers.
"Listen, bub!" The woman's sharp voice grew stronger as she walked towards the living room. "You can just gather your stuff and—" Her words cut short when she saw the gray drake standing in the middle of the empty room, a green hued paint roller in hand. "What?"
"Morning," Duke waved cheerfully. "There's a brush in the corner if you wanta help."
"Mom," she looked to Nana. "Why is there a giant duck in the living room and why is it talking?"
"His name is Duke. Don't be rude, dear." Nana poked the middle aged woman with her cane before carefully stepping into the room and picking up the suggested paintbrush.
"Duke?" Anna raised an eyebrow and looked the duck up and down. "What kind of name is that? It sounds like something you'd name a dog. And why is it dressed like a pirate?"
"Watch it," he warned as he returned his attention to painting the wall. "I just might get my sword and make you walk the plank."
"He does have a sword," Nana said. She dipped the brush in the paint bucket and began carefully edging around the door frame.
"Nana," Duke stopped and watched her. "What are you doing?"
"What do you think I'm doing? I'm painting my living room!"
"That's why I'm here. Why don't you go make some coffee and visit with Anne in the kitchen? This'll take most of the day."
"If I help, then it won't take all day."
"Mom, seriously!" Anne pulled the brush from her hand. "You're in your seventies. Let this freak here do the work for you. Come on, I need a cup of coffee. Get your purse. We're going to the Espresso Primo."
"We most certainly are not." Nana held her hand out for the brush. "You can give me the brush and help or we can have coffee right here in the kitchen. I am not about to leave Duke alone to do all the work by himself. We are both perfectly capable of doing this ourselves. Now, if you feel like leaving, you're more than welcome to."
"Fine, fine." Anne pressed the bridge of her nose with two fingers and closed her eyes. "Let's go make some coffee." She dropped the brush into the can, creating a large splash that sent droplets across the drop cloth and leaving the brush to sink to the bottom, effectively eliminating its usefulness.
"Wow." Duke shook his head as they left and returned his attention to the task at hand. Was Anne related to Phil or just one of Nana's many adopted children and grandchildren? As soon as they were out of sight, he grabbed a plastic bag and turned it inside out around his hand to fish around for the dropped brush. He pulled it out, disgusted at the needless mess.
Setting it aside in one of the empty paint trays, he returned to painting the wall.
A gentle breeze blew in from the open windows, carrying the scent of flowers and freshly cut grass. Birds sang in the quiet day. If he hadn't been inside working, he'd have stopped by to visit Nana anyway and enjoy a little lunch out in her gardens.
"Honestly, Mother, why do you have someone dressed up like a giant duck in your living room? That costume can't possibly help him get his job done. And where did you find him?" Anne's words carried through the house with surprising clarity.
Whatever Nana said was more muffled, but it sounded like she came to his defense.
"You and Phil can try convincing the world that those are aliens if you want. Honestly, couldn't you have done a better job on the costumes? You can practically see the line where the head attaches to the body. And an eye patch? Really? Phil couldn't decide on an animal or a cyborg?"
Again, the other half of the conversation was muffled. It was beginning to drive Duke nuts. He hated it when people would be on the phone and speaking loudly, only giving him a clue to what was being talked about. This was even more maddening.
He looked at the span of wall left to go. Maybe he'd finish this wall and then go get a cup of coffee for himself. Then again, Nana always made sure to take care of her guests and would probably bring him one when it was ready.
Nana had a large house, nearly a mansion. It was obvious from the quality of her furnishings and the frequency with which she redecorated that she could have afforded something much larger if she chose. However, for someone who lived by herself, this place was plenty big. It was all to the Ducks benefit that she insisted on having somewhere her large family could stay for the holidays; it meant she had plenty of empty bedrooms for them to stay in when they had first come to Earth and were figuring things out.
After sleeping two nights in the Arena, everyone had started insisting on finding appropriate living quarters and deciding what to do about being trapped in an alien universe. Phil's grandmother had stopped by to see if he was going to find a new team or move to New Jersey in hopes of managing his old one when she had run into Nosedive. Rather than the instant reaction of fear that everyone else had given them, she had looked at him in curiosity and asked if he needed help rather than question his appearance. Nana had been one of the first humans to treat them like actual people and not some sort of freak- and they would be forever grateful to her for that. When she had learned that they were sleeping and living in the arena, she had insisted they all come to her house and stay there until they got settled. Not only did she give them space, she had fed them and started introducing them to human culture. It had taken a little patience, but she taught them Earth's written language and some of the differences between their spoken languages as well. The occasional Yiddish words she used had confused them until they realized that only some people used those terms.
"Phil should stop wasting his time with that excuse for a hockey team. He passed the bar exam. I don't know why he doesn't open a nice, small private practice and work for himself. Look at his sister! Pamela is doing well for herself working with Drew. They were even able to take in Laura!"
Wow. Duke was getting an entire earful about Phil's life that he'd never expected to. Anne must be Phil's mother. But, Nana's last name was Palmfeather and, from what he understood about human last names, that would have meant Anne was either divorced when she had Phil or… Maybe she was Nana's daughter-in-law. The women took the man's last name when they married, right? He was pretty sure that's what Nana said.
He was nearly done with the first wall when Nana and Anne came back in. Nana carried her own cup of coffee while Anne carried hers and a spare one for Duke. Nana insisted on serving coffee in delicate china cups rather than the mugs he preferred. Sure, it was a sign of wealth and class, but those cups just didn't hold enough for his liking. The two chocolate chips cookies sitting on the saucer caught his attention almost as much as the enticing aroma of the dark beverage.
He set the pan and roller on the floor, making sure to wrap plastic around the roller to keep it wet so he could reuse it.
"Here." Anne held out the cup and saucer with a look of displeasure.
"Thank you." He returned none of her rudeness. "So, uh, you Phil's mom or related to him or something?"
"Yes, I am." She held her head high, daring him to question her answer. As if there were anything to question.
"Ah, nice to meet you. I don't think we were properly introduced earlier." He set the cup on the windowsill and extended a hand. "Names Duke L'Orange."
She looked at his hand and slowly extended hers as if reluctant to feel his touch.
Pouring on the charm, he bowed, lifted her hand to his beak and kissed it.
"It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Yes. And you." She reclaimed her hand while eying him suspiciously. "I take it you are one of his hockey players?"
"Yes, ma'am. I'm the center, although I occasionally switch to right or left wing. Do you play?"
"I should think not! I honestly don't know how you manage it in that costume. That takes a certain level of dedication to the charade to wear it everywhere."
"Anne!" Nana scolded her. "I've told you before and I'll say it again. You'd better listen this time. They are aliens. That is not a costume. And you're being rude."
Hm. Duke watched with interest. Picking up his coffee cup again, he took a drink. Hints of vanilla and hazelnut sweetened the strong flavor.
"I only treat him with the same respect he gives the rest of California and the NHL."
"Then you ought to be bowing down to him!"
"As nice as that sounds," he broke in, "That's not really necessary. It's okay. Some people can't seem to handle the fact that there are different dimensions and people might look a little different between them. I don't hold it against them."
"Duke," Nana tried to change the topic. "Do you think Nosedive or Wildwing will be coming to help later? I made an extra batch of no bake cookies, just for them."
"Nah, doubt it. Wing's got some team stuff to take care of and Nosedive ran off somewhere. I can take them back to 'em if you'd like. Or you could stop by and deliver them yourself. I know everyone'd be happy to see you." He took a bite of the chocolate chip cookie. The great thing about eating at Nana's was she always made sure to work within their dietary needs and restrictions. She had somehow figured out how to make the best cookies without using any eggs. The stuff Kari and cooks at the Pond made for them was good, but Nana's was ever bit as tasty as what they'd have eaten if they were home on Anaska.
"I'll make up a package for you. Oh, where was that outfit you needed mended?"
"Bag's by the front door."
She left to find his damaged clothing and repair it.
He finished his coffee and cookies and left the cup on the windowsill once more to return to painting. He wanted to see if Anne would take the dirty dishes when she left the room.
"Got any music?" he asked Anne in an attempt at polite conversation.
"If my Pamela were here, she could play the piano for you," Anne boasted. "She took lessons from Rudolf Serkin before he passed away."
"I'm sure he was good." He poured a new batch of paint into the pan. "Since she's not here to put on a private concert, do you think there's a radio somewhere?"
"I'll have to ask Mom where she might have one. Live music would be so much more entertaining. I think I'll call Pamela and see if she's free to come over." She turned and left.
He glanced at the coffee cup and saucer sitting on the windowsill. Well, that was interesting.
Once more, he overheard Anne's voice on the phone.
"I know you have today off, honey. Please, be a dear and come play some music for your sweet Nana. No, she's here with some creepy hockey player in a duck costume. Yes, one of the ones that Laura keeps going on about. I don't know, the gray one. Said his name was Earl or something."
He snorted when she got his name wrong on purpose. He'd clearly introduced himself. He'd had far too many interactions with people like her growing up back home. Time to have a little fun.
When Anne started chattering away about how lovely Pamela's piano skills were and coaxing her over, he started singing the baritone part of one of Anche Novia's operas. His singing voice had grown a little rusty with disuse, but he remembered the opera just fine. It wasn't too long before Anne returned.
"Listen, if you're going to sit there caterwauling in some silly, made up language, you could at least take off that stupid costume!" Anne crossed her arms and glared at him from the doorway.
"What? This?" He grinned at her, pinching the fabric of the ragged shirt he wore. He set the roller down and pulled off his shirt. Shrugging, he tossed it next to the tea cup on the windowsill and continued painting the wall.
Anne blinked rapidly, shocked at the sight of a topless hockey player in her mother-in-law's living room.
Duke picked up the roller again, making sure to flex so his muscles would stand out even more. Whistling the rest of the opera, he continued replacing the mauve color with a green so vibrant it made the 80's look dull. He kept Anne in his peripheral vision, thoroughly enjoying her apoplectic fit.
Nana returned with the grocery bag containing Duke's maroon catsuit. A slow smile grew and she strode into the room.
"Whew!" Nana fanned herself with her hand. "I'd have invited the rest of my bridge club over if I'd have known I was going to get this kind of show!" She pulled herself up on the bay window and took a seat, leaning back to watch the shirtless drake.
"Since when do you play bridge?" Anne finally regained control of her mouth.
"I'm old and retired, dear. It's what respectable senior citizens do."
"Hey," Duke turned around and pointed the roller at her. "Don't go talking about yourself that way," he teased.
"You're right," Nana answered right back. "I really shouldn't go around telling people I'm a respectable woman."
"Nope," Duke chuckled and dipped the roller in the paint tray again. "Don't make me have to go around, reminding people just how disreputable you are."
"What?"
Duke set the brush back in the tray and glided over to Nana, gracefully sitting next to her and putting an arm around her shoulders.
"Anne." He glanced to Nana and squeezed her shoulder. He'd have winked; but, that wasn't something he'd been able to do for years. "There's something Nana and I need to tell you."
Nana laughed and took his hand in hers.
"Yes, dear," Nana nodded with a serious expression on her face.
"Oh, god." Anne's eyes grew wide as she looked from one to the other.
"Your mother and I-"
"Are very good friends," Nana finished his sentence.
"What?" She began to hyperventilate. "You and him?" Her eyebrows nearly became a unibrow. "You two have…"
"What?" Nana was indifferent to Anne's shock. "We're both adults and can make our own decisions."
"Besides," Duke threw in. "She's great. Makes the best oatmeal raisin cookies in this universe."
"Oh," Nana leaned closer to him. "That's nothing compared to your cannoli."
"I think I'm going to be sick." Anne stood with one hand over her mouth, the other on her hip, staring at green flecks on the drop cloth. "I can't believe… No."
Duke and Nana burst out laughing at the same time.
"Wow." Duke laughed so hard his side began hurting. Wrapping an arm around his side, he stood and returned to the discarded paint roller. "You know what, Anne?"
The surly woman crossed her arms and glared at him.
"I like you. You're easy to mess with."
"Duke!" Nana poked him in the leg with her cane as she too stood and headed for the exit. "It's one thing to know that. A gentleman would never say it out loud."
"Well, guess I'm not gentleman." He scratched at his arm, glaring at the stretch of green now covering his feathers.
"Liar."
"Always."
Nana chuckled and paused at the doorway.
"What was it you needed done with this again?" She held up the bag of clothing
"I, uh…" He smirked at tried not to laugh. "I split the pants. Oh, and there's some Raisinets in there for you. Dark chocolate."
"Ooh, you bad bird." She pulled open the bag and dug to the bottom to find the candy.
"Your blood sugar," Anne reminded, sounding resigned.
Nana opened the bag and slowly put one in her mouth. She watched Anne the entire time she chewed it slowly.
Duke cleared his throat and looked pointedly at the bag.
Nana, getting the message, held the bag out to him.
The gray drake reached out before noticing the paint on his fingers again. Throwing the paint a dirty look, he shrugged at Nana and dropped his hand.
"Oh, here." Nana poured a few of the chocolate covered goodies into her hand and held them up towards his mouth.
Duke glanced to Anne before opening his mouth and letting Nana feed him the raisins.
Anne forced out an angry breath before turning on her heel and almost slipping on the drop cloth. Catching herself on the freshly painted wall, she avoided falling.
"Urgh!" Anne pulled her now green covered palm from the wall and glared at it, then Duke and Nana, then her hand, and stormed out.
Duke chuckled and refiled his paint roller. He started walking over to fix the palm print Anne had smudged into the paint when Nana stopped him.
"Leave it. I think that's a fine addition to the wall. You know, a nice, empty frame over it would be just the thing to turn it into a modern work of art."
"I like the way you think." He returned to the task at hand.
"Thank you."
"Any time, Nana. Any time."
