I do not own the show GRAVITY FALLS or any of the characters; both are the property of the Walt Disney Company and of Alex Hirsch. I make no money from these stories but write just for fun and in the hope that other fans enjoy reading them.

A Promise in August

(Saturday, August 6, 2016)

The twins' checkup at the clinic on Friday had been fine. Neither Mabel nor Dipper showed any symptoms of anemia, and Dr. La Fievre said they had bounced back amazingly from whatever the heck it had been.

"I'm still tired, though," Mabel complained—after having spent forty-eight hours mostly in bed.

"Then take another day to rest," the young doctor had told her in his most comforting tone. "If you have any problems, call the clinic. Someone's on duty 24/7. But I think you'll be fine now."

A couple of hours later, the veterinarian similarly said that Tripper had responded to epinephrine and that his burns were healing. He still had to wear the plastic Elizabethan ruff collar, though—his sutures would dissolve as the small wound on his side healed, but Dr. Setter warned Dipper and Mabel not to take the cone off for another twelve days, so he wouldn't bite at the place, as dogs would do.

Tripper didn't seem to mind the inconvenience. He was one smart dog, and he listened gravely when Mabel explained that he needed to wear the thing for a few more days, until his wound had completely healed. He raised no objection and didn't even claw at the cone of shame.

As Dipper drove them back to the Shack—Mabel surrendered the wheel of the Carino to her twin so she could cuddle the dog—she asked, "When should we tell Mom and Dad that we have a dog now, Brobro?"

"I'm thinking about it," he said. What he was thinking was You kept Waddles in the old house for a year. Now we've got a fenced-in yard and a bigger house, so it's not gonna be a problem. He didn't say that out loud, because, well, with their parents he never knew for sure.

Mabel obviously had been pondering too: "Yeah, well, I say the best plan is to spring him on them the day we get back home! See, if he knows he's gotta be extra cute and ingratiating to them, then he can practice and be so charming that they couldn't possibly turn him down!"

"That's a good idea," Dipper told her.

She blinked. "It is? Yay for me! OK, then, not a word to Mom and Dad before we park in the driveway on that Saturday."

"Deal," Dipper said, smiling.

This year they had lucked out. Their birthday, August 31, would fall on Wednesday. Piedmont schools traditionally began the Tuesday after Labor Day—September 6, this year. That gave them an extra Thursday and Friday to stay over in Gravity Falls as seventeen-year-olds, and then it would be fully legal for them to drive themselves back home.

On the phone, Mabel had argued with Mom for delaying their return until Sunday, but she and Dad held the line at Saturday. Get home, unpack, collapse, then have Sunday and Monday to rest before starting their senior year.

Oh, well, getting two free extra days wasn't too shabby.

At the Shack, Mabel put on a pitiable voice: "Doc says we really should rest one more day, Soos. But—but if you want—I'll somehow drag myself downstairs tomorrow—"

"No sweat, Hambone!" Soos said cheerfully. "We got everything covered. Business is, like, normal now. It won't pick up again until the last couple weeks in August. That's when we'll really need you. Go ahead, rest up."

"I'm feeling better than she is," Dipper said. "And my job's not strenuous. I'll take the register tomorrow."

Soos rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Well—OK, dawg, but if you, like, see spots in front of your eyes or get dizzy or your heart stops or some junk, just let me know."

"I will," Dipper promised.

The truth was that Dipper had become all too aware of the dwindling days he had left to spend with Wendy—even if only in the gift shop—and didn't want to waste a single minute.

That Saturday morning a thick envelope came from his agent—six copies of a complex contract about TV rights for his books. He saw that she had arranged for him to take a stepped payout over the next five years—that would decrease the tax bite—and that the cartoon producers had first dibs on the rights for the first six books in all, and then any others would be subject to re-negotiation.

He took a deep breath and autographed all six copies in about ten places on each copy. A cover letter from his agent assured him, "This money is ours for good, even if the cartoon tanks. Congratulations."

Way to build the old confidence there.

Ah, well. He'd bank everything, pay the taxes, and then, hopefully, he and Wendy would have a nice nest egg to begin life with after college. Knock wood.

Teek finished work in the snack bar at three on Saturday afternoon. He'd brought over a change of clothes, and he showered and donned fresh jeans and shirt—he liked cooking and was good at it, but he was aware that after a shift in the kitchen he smelled strongly of hamburgers and onions if he didn't wash the aromas off.

Freshly dressed, he tapped on Mabel's door. She and Tripper had been sprawled on the bed playing Scrabboggle, with little lettered tiles. "Hi," she said, smooching Teek. "I'm teaching Tripper to write!"

The dog picked up and dropped a few tiles and then looked up at Teek imploringly. The tiles read, HLEP EM.

"He still gets mixed up on where vowels should go," Mabel confided. "But didn't he do a good job making all the letters right side up!"

Teek skritched Tripper's ears and asked, "You want to go to see Dipper, boy?"

Tripper raised his right paw and thrashed his tail.

"Oh, OK," Mabel said grudgingly. "But I'm afraid the tourists will make fun of his cone."

"If they do," Teek pointed out, "he can just lie behind the counter and sleep." He let Tripper out, and the dog's nails tick-tacked down the hall and to the gift shop. Teek held out his hand, and Mabel took it. He said, "Let's you and me go for a drive, OK?"

"Huh? Where to?" Mabel asked, tilting her head.

"It's a surprise," Teek said.

"Ooh, I love surprises!" Mabel clapped her hands. "Is it the lake? It's the lake, isn't it? I'll bet it's the lake! Is it the mall? We could see a movie! Is it—?"

"You love surprises, remember?" Teek said with a smile. "You'll see. Come on."

"Lookout Point?" Mabel asked when Teek parked his silver-colored car at a spot overlooking the town and the split cliffs. "You scallywag! But this place is really a lot more fun after dark, if you know what I mean."

Teek opened the door. "Now we're gonna walk a little way."

She tilted her head again. "Aroo?"

The level plateau that was the local Lovers' Lane was backed by a grassy, gently-sloped hill. At the top they could look all around—behind them and some miles off lay the much larger green hill that hid a long-buried crashed spacecraft, and beyond that, pale lilac with the haze of distance, reared the cliffs encircling the east side of the valley. They could barely make out Needle Falls. The wind, scented with pine and wildflowers, stirred their hair.

Mabel took a deep breath and gazed out at the beauty of the valley—the deep green wooded hills, the waterfalls, the town like a toy spread out, the cliffs with a warm but not too hot afternoon sun shining on them. It was all breathtaking, and she made a mental note to come back to this spot one day with easel and canvas and paint her impression of a perfect summer afternoon in a magical place.

However, she sensed the surprise had not yet come in for a landing. As the breeze kicked up, she held her hair in place and said, "Well, this is really nice, but I've seen this before, you know—Teek, what are you doing?"

Because Teek had knelt on one knee in front of her. And he was holding a small blue velvet box. "I know we've had our ups and downs," he said.

"Teek!" Mabel said, giggling. "Come on, get up! I can't, not yet—Mom would kill us both!"

"Let me finish," Teek said. He opened the box and took out a ring. "This isn't an engagement ring, see?"

"Oh. But anyway, it's—it's beautiful!" Mabel said.

The ring itself was gold, a band that joined in a lemniscate—an infinity symbol, a sideways eight, very delicately done. At the center, touching, were two identically-sized stones, one a brilliant blue, one a delicate green. "Mabel," Teek said, "this is a promise ring. I love you, and when the time comes, I want to marry you. This is my promise that no matter where I am, no matter where you are, no matter if we're together or apart, and no matter what happens, I want to be your husband. I promise to wait until that's possible. Will you promise to wait until that day?"

"Oh, my God!" Mabel said, hands on her cheeks. "I just got it—that's our birthstones, a peridot and a sapphire! Oh, Teek, yes!" She held out her hand, and Teek slipped the ring on the fourth finger.

Right hand, not left, but, well—a promise is still a promise.

"I'll tell your mom and dad about it," Teek said. "About what it means."

"Uh-uh," Mabel said firmly. "Bad idea. Look, first me and Dip have some business about a dog, OK? And once we get past that—probably by Thanksgiving, or for sure by Christmas—then we tell them. You and I. Together."

"Together," Teek said.

"Oh, get up," Mabel told him, grinning in her old goofy way. "You big old dork! I love you, but—when you're down on one knee like that—I can't kiss you!"

They very quickly solved that problem.

The End