"Louie, hold the ice cream cone upright."
Little Louie did as he was told, toddling after his brothers with both hands around the cone. They raced to the swing set—the smaller one, as per their uncle's orders. The beautiful summer day had drawn many families to the park, and children ran rampant. Donald might have found this aggravating a few months ago, but now…now he was here with three kids and a lady. Who'da thought it?
Donald and Daisy found a bench not too far away from the triplets and sat themselves down, Don with one arm around her. Daisy took another lick of her own ice cream and smiled up at him.
"They're so cute," she said.
Donald was watching the boys. Like a hawk and ready to be next to them in half a second, just in case. Like he had since they'd shown up on his doorstep. "Yeah," he said, "I guess they are." Donald was still recovering from his rather rapid transition from a rather brine-crusted existence of a single sailor to, well, complete domesticity. He still felt like he'd been placed into an alternate dimension.
Daisy had come along not long after that, a couple of months ago now. He liked her, she was feisty and lovely and he had no idea what he was doing. Seemed to be a running theme.
A shout from Huey brought him out of his musings, and he almost jumped to his feet. Upon inspection though, it was a sound of joy and not distress. He, Dewey and Louie were trying to get up as high as they could on the kiddie swings. And they were still holding their ice cream; that worked out about as good as you'd expect, with Huey's mouth covered in a brown chocolatey mess, Dewey's in white, and Louie's in pink. Donald chuckled a bit.
"Yeah, alright, they're pretty cute."
Daisy giggled too, and Don thought it was a lovely sound. She handled him having kids (that was weird) remarkable well, he thought, especially with him being only nineteen. She knew the story of course, but it was still a big deal. A problem, he thought, with any other woman. She herself was freshly eighteen and he was forever grateful for her help.
"You know," she said, "you're a good dad."
Donald almost choked on his milkshake.
"What—uh…I'm—"
Daisy went right on talking. "You're wonderful with them and they love you. And…you didn't have to keep them. You could've put them up for adoption in Della's place. But you chose to keep them together."
Donald felt uncomfortable at the mention of adoption. He'd thought about doing just that, very briefly, and it was not a moment he liked to remember due to the sick feeling that followed immediately afterwards.
"But you kept them together," Daisy went on, "you did something very brave and loving, and look at them now," both looked at the kids, covered in ice cream and laughing together. Donald grinned a bit, himself.
Daisy used a finger to turn his head to her again. "You're their father in every way but name."
Donald felt uncommonly proud, and more than a little bashful at Daisy's words. They'd moved to the point in their new relationship where they were opening up more, not beating around the bushes too much. Donald found out that Daisy liked talking and was very good at reading people when she wanted to be. That he'd been evaluated by her and deemed so worthy was at once an ego boost and a force to knock him off his game. He should roll with this moment, he thought, return her sentiment. She'd helped him so much, he doubted he'd have been able to hold himself together this long if she had'd waltzed into his life. He wanted her to stay with him; he hoped she was becoming as invested in this relationship as he was. He wanted in his heart of hearts to tell her all of this.
But Donald Duck was never a wordsmith.
"…You've got ice cream on your nose."
Daisy's eyes widened a bit and she sat back to set herself right. When she spied Donald working to hold his laughter in, she gave her one devious smile and shoved the rest of her vanilla cone into his face. Don sat there in shock for a moment…and then opened his arms and went after her for a hug. Daisy squeaked and got off the bench.
"C'mere toots, give me a kiss."
"Ah! Don, no!—"
The other parents at the park were watching them like they were nut jobs. Maybe they were. That was fine.
It didn't take long for Huey, Dewey, and Louie to spot the play fight between their uncle and Daisy, and they were quick to join. They ran into the fray, wielding their ice cream covered hands as weapons.
"Unca Donal!"
"Play!"
Donald scooped up a laughing Dewey and Louie, covering them in place of Daisy. Huey in turn ran after Daisy, dirtying the hem of her dress in chocolaty handprints. She didn't mind.
Later, they'd go to the beach under the pretense of "washing up." Later, they'd catch the new movie that the boys wanted to see at the drive-in. Later, Daisy would kiss Huey, Dewey, and Louie goodnight before giving Donald a real one.
Now, they were a family.
