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. I will ask, please, do not copy my stories elsewhere on the Internet. I work hard on these, and they mean a lot to me. Thank you.

Author's Note: Dipper and Wendy are married, soon college will begin for them and for Mabel, and the time has come to leave Gravity Falls for a while. However, Mabel would never forgive us if we didn't follow them at least through the rest of 2017, when Dipper and Wendy will have a church ceremony recommitting their vows. That's because Mabel's planning it. Let's check in on the gang from month to month. . . .

Zero Regrets

(September-December 2017)

SEPTEMBER

1: Labor Day Weekend

Mabel didn't exactly mope, but in the days immediately following her eighteenth birthday, she worked out the last days of her 2017 summer employment at the Shack with less than her usual enthusiasm and verve. Soos and Melody tried hard to cheer her up, offering random treats at surprising times, easing up on a few of the already flexible work rules, and suggesting things she and Candy might be interested in doing around town.

Mabel was grateful for their kindness, but—the truth was that even more than her sister-in-law Wendy and brother Dipper, she was already missing her boyfriend, Teek O'Grady.

However, facing weeks of separation, she and he had quickly worked out—and she couldn't believe she was admitting this even to herself—had worked out an actual schedule. A plan! When he heard about that, Dipper would be proud of her. And it had not been all that easy, either!

The biggest problem Mabel had to deal with was that Georgia and California (and Oregon, too, of course) had a three-hour time difference. When it was noon in Atlanta, it was only nine A.M. in Gravity Falls and Crescent City, California.

That made arranging times for regular communications problematic. Having studied their college schedules, Teek and Mabel had decided that once classes began for both of them, the ideal time for face-timing would be nine P.M. each weekday night for him, six P.M. for her. He had one evening class, but it ended at 8:30 his time, and Mabel had no night classes, though she hoped to try out for a play and decided that, more than likely, if she got cast in it her rehearsals and performances wouldn't begin until 7:30 her time. Then on Friday they could set the time for Saturday, and on Saturday for Sunday, and presto, they'd covered the week!

Teek's freshman term would begin on Tuesday, September 5, and Mabel's classes the following day. That was when they would try out their phone schedule. But before then, on the second and third of the month, the Saturday and Sunday before Labor Day, she called him any time she wanted, which worked out to about once every two hours.

True, she had to find time in between being busy—for the Labor Day weekend, Soos had decided to keep the Shack open on Saturday, Sunday, and Monday, the actual holiday. Normally the weekend break for them occurred on Sunday and Monday, but those were the heaviest tourist days of the whole year. At least on Sunday they wouldn't open until half-past noon. Soos had also extended the hours—the Shack's business operations normally ran from nine A.M. to six P.M, but for Saturday, Sunday, and Monday it would stay open until eight in the evening.

And even though a herd of tourists flooded the place on Saturday, September 2, whenever a brief lull occurred, Mabel phoned Teek to find out how his move into the dorm was going. It was always going OK, though for some reason rather slowly.

"How's the snack bar doing?" Teek asked at 1:15 that afternoon, possibly attempting to move the conversation beyond Mabel's repeated rotation of "What does your room look like? What are you gonna do tomorrow? Do you miss me?"

Answering the unexpected question from Teek, Mabel said, "We're getting by. It's real busy, but Soos hired Mrs. Willet to come over and pinch-cook for you. She's pretty good. We're using your burger recipe, and hers are close to yours, but somehow not as juicy. Oh, wait a minute, I have a customer now." Mabel turned the phone so Teek could see the good-looking young guy who had come up to the register with a tray of two burgers, large fries, and drinks.

She rang up they boy's purchase, he paid in cash, she returned his change, and he asked, "Hey, thanks. Uh, by the way, is the lake anywhere close to here?"

"Oh, sure," she said. "Drive back to town, go straight at the first traffic light, then at the second one take a right, and then just follow the signs. It's about three miles from the turn."

"Is it open for swimming?"

"Yes, it is! You have a great view of the Falls from a few angles, and the beach is open. No lifeguard, swim at your own risk, but if you don't go out real far, it's pretty safe. This is a good time of year—the water's finally warmed up! There's fishing, too, you can rent rods and reels or even a rowboat in the visitors' center. There's bathrooms and changing rooms, too. Oh, and if you have some time after, be sure to visit the History Museum downtown. It's free, but they take donations."

The guy—with a bush of brown hair bleached blond by the sun, he looked like a surfer—gave her a wide, white smile. "Thanks. My girl and I will check it out."

"Both of you will enjoy it! You're so lucky."

As a cute girl joined the customer, Mabel swung the phone around to show Teek that all of the ten tables in the snack bar were occupied. In fact, the guy and his girlfriend went over and just stood at the condiments counter to eat their lunch. "Told you we were busy," she said to Teek.

"You weren't kidding," Teek said. "That's about as slammed as I've ever seen it."

"Got that right," she said. "Work, work, work. Gonna be crazy busy up through Monday. Then I'm off Tuesday so I can pack up and drive to Crescent City before night. What are you doing right now?"

"Same as the first three times we talked, still unpacking and moving into the dorm," Teek said. "Oh, I met my roommate just now, Leslie."

"Say what?" she demanded in a voice loud enough to make the diners look around, startled.

"Leslie's a guy," Teek said hastily. "Leslie Santego. He's from Tampa, Florida, and he wants to be a screenwriter. He reminds me a little of Dwight Deener—you know him?"

"Don't think so."

"He was in my class at GFHS, big guy, football player. Anyway, I'll send you a photo of Leslie later. Oh, almost forgot, he's asked me to call him Les."

"As long as he's a guy, that's OK," Mabel said. "Wait, is the dorm co-ed?"

"Kind of. The bottom two floors are all-female, the top two all-male. I'm in 302." He lowered his voice. "Since I got here first, I grabbed the bed closest to the window. Anyhow, the girls aren't supposed to use the blue elevators and stairs and we can't use the red ones, so—not exactly coed. You don't have to worry."

Mabel grunted. "OK, sorry if I sounded jealous." She sighed. "I'm just missing you."

Quietly, Teek said, "I'm missing you, too."

Mabel straightened. "Got another couple of customers coming up. I'll call you back in a couple hours."

"OK, I should have my side of the room squared away by then. See you!"

Mabel chortled, "LUL!"

Leslie must have been in their dorm room, because Teek dropped his voice to a whisper: "Love you lots, too!"

"Aww," said the granny-lady who'd just brought up a tray of hotdogs, hamburgers, fries, and sodas and set it on the counter. "Your boyfriend? That's sweet. Young lady, I have three grandchildren, and all the tables are full—"

"It's a nice day," Mabel said as she started to ring up the purchase. "Would they like to eat outside at one of the picnic tables?"

"Oh, yes, perfect, thank you! Is there a charge for that?"

Mabel had to chuckle as she ran the lady's credit card. "No, not at all! They're out on the front lawn, just pick one. Oh, there's a big trash can chained to a tree out there, so please toss your wrappers there and be sure to put the lid back on. That keeps raccoons away. The tables are absolutely free, so be our guest!"

Stan wasn't nearby to hear that last bit, next two customers also opted for the picnic tables. The height of the lunch rush had passed, but Mabel stayed busy at the register. It was a hard, though profitable, day. Though ordinarily the snack bar would have closed at two, for the weekend its hours, had also been extended. At three, finally, Mabel closed out the register and asked Melody, at the main gift-shop register, if she could have some break time.

"Sure," Melody said, giving her a motherly smile. "I know these last few days have been a strain for you. Knock off early. Go take a nap if you need to."

"Thanks!"

Mabel first took Tripper out into the back yard for a little stick-chasing exercise. She could hear laughter coming from around the side of the house, where a few of the last set of diners had occupied the picnic tables. After Tripper brought the stick back one last time and dropped it to the ground and then stood on it—his way of saying, "Game's over!"—she led him back inside.

Then, instead of going down the hall to her room—formerly the guest room—Mabel climbed the stairs to the attic bedroom and stretched out on her old bed. Tripper hopped up to cuddle against her.

She lay on her side, gazing at Dipper's bed—now with no sheets or pillow, but covered by one of Abuelita's colorful patchwork quilts. "Hope you and Wendy are happy, Brobro. I miss those days," she murmured. She closed her eyes and thought of Teek. Scratching Tripper's ears, she said, "I miss these days, too. Hey, Universe! Mabel was not meant to be alone!"

She called Teek one more time and caught him just moments before a required dinner in the college cafeteria, where the students were going to be introduced to the chairs of the various college departments, get the student handbooks, and so on. He chatted briefly as he walked, telling Mabel that Les seemed like a pretty laid-back guy for a jock, that no, he hadn't met any southern belles, and that he would call her the next day about nine A.M. her time.

Then he hung up and Mabel felt alone again. Technically, of course, she was not alone at all. Tripper was keeping her company. Just downstairs, Melody and Soos were on duty that very minute, and Gideon and Ulva had come in as well. Candy Chiu was only a phone call away. Grunkle Stan was taking a day off from the Shack—like Mabel, he'd been very busy with the preparations for surprising Wendy and Dipper on their wedding day. He was probably lazing at home, but was next door to the Shack, just down the hill.

But lying there in her old bedroom, Mabel was missing Dipper, Wendy, and Teek.

Hmm. Mabel looked at the clock: 3:20 P.M. on Saturday. Dipper and Wendy had been in the college house now for almost twenty-four hours. She debated calling them just to check in. Surely by now they would have, um, settled in. And down.

Still, she was dying to know how their honeymoon had been so far. After all, sooner or later she and Teek would have a honeymoon, too, and a girl could always use a few tips.

But . . . nah. Maybe Dipper or Wendy would call her. If they did, they'd probably wait until after eight that evening, when the Shack was due to close. Since Mabel had the rest of the afternoon off, she thought about possibly driving up to visit her pigs, but—it was at least an hour and twenty minutes, round-trip, and . . . she was tired. Mabel yawned, turned on her other side, facing the wall, with Tripper's back warm against hers, and drifted off to sleep.

Dipper did check in with her the next day, catching her just before lunch, when she was getting ready for the Shack's special, rare, Sunday business hours. Everything was going great, they were having a fine time, they hadn't been to the campus, they hadn't explored the town, they had just sort of hung around the house. None of her business what they'd been busy with! Wendy took the phone and said hi to her, and then added, "Tell you lots more when we see you on Tuesday evening! Be careful on the drive over, there's a little highway construction on the first bridge south of Bend. Bye now!"

Wendy turned off the phone and handed it to Dipper, carefully. "Don't drop it in the water, dude!"

Dipper stood and reached to set the phone on the patio table next to the hot tub. Wendy impishly slapped his butt cheek as he leaned over. He splashed back down. "Hey!"

She laughed. "Sorry, couldn't resist! Come closer and settle down." She sighed happily. "This feels so good!"

"This" was the spa hot tub built for two on the rear deck of the house that would be their home for the next four years. The deck looked out and down over the large fenced-in back yard and, beyond that, the dense treetops in a state forest reserve. "Hey, Dip, what are we gonna do this afternoon?"

"Mm," he said. "How about after a while we drive into town and check out a restaurant for dinner?"

"You already tired of my cooking?" she teased. In fact, the two had done an absolute minimum of cooking the previous day—though on Friday afternoon, Dipper had fired up the backyard grill to cook them a couple of very tasty steaks while Wendy baked two big Idaho potatoes, but for breakfast and lunch on Friday and Saturday, they ate leftovers from the wedding reception, thoughtfully bundled up for them by Mabel. That morning, Wendy had cooked up a cheesy breakfast casserole, and for lunch they'd had soup (canned) and a salad. Not exactly haute cuisine.

"No, I'm not tired of it," Dipper said, hugging her. "It's just that we've kinda been too busy to do any cooking."

"I think I enjoy what we've been doing a lot better than fine dining."

"I'll agree with that," Dipper said. He kissed her.

She rested her head on his shoulder. "This is so relaxing."

"Yep. Hey, Wen, on Tuesday we should be finished with orientation by noon, so we can leave the campus—"

"We probably ought to go book shopping, first."

"Well, OK, but also if we can work it in, we need to go to the DMV. You still have to apply for your California driver's license. You took care of the insurance, right?"

"Oh, yeah. My insurance complies with California requirements, and I've made sure the Green Machine meets California emissions standard. Just the driver's license and the plates left to go. Come on Dip, let's not start on all that just yet. There's a twenty-day window, and we've just got today and tomorrow until we have to dive into all that college business."

"Well—honeymooning is a lot more pleasant," Dipper said. The tub wasn't exactly cramped, but it was pleasurably cozy, and the two sat side by side, pressing against each other.

How many times now? Wendy asked him telepathically.

—Were we supposed to keep score? Let me think. It's all so great that it blends together. Nine times? Ten?

"Dude!" she said, laughing aloud. "More than that! I lost count at ten. It's at least thirteen!"

"OK, let me see. Last night and then again this morning . . . right, thirteen, I think," Dipper said.

"Uh-oh! No, no, no, no! Totally unacceptable! Unlucky!" Wendy said. "We gotta squeeze in at least one more time to get past the bad luck."

"Well, I suppose we can drain the tub this afternoon and clean it and refill it tomorrow," Dipper said.

"Nice warm water, a sunny day, nobody anywhere who could spy on us, and my favorite guy and me and not a stitch between us—yeah, we can make this work!"

They embraced. With only a little effort, um well, we'll say it did work.

Very well, in fact.

Ah, honeymooners.