Prologue

Velma was almost ready for the party. 'Party' was something of an overstatement since they had only invited close family. That was about as much excitement as they needed or really wanted. Shaggy was sound asleep in his recliner in the sunroom which looked out over the river which formed the back property line. They had owned this house for over twenty years and lived in it most of that time except when she had been offered a traveling professorship at MIT for one year. Shaggy had a restaurant in Boston and so they had shuttered their dream home for a year and moved to Massachusetts. Living there had sucked and they had been thrilled when the year was up, and they could move back to Crystal Cove.

And now here it was after all of these years together. Retirement. To Velma, the decision to retire had been easy. Life in academia grew redundant over time and had long since lost its challenge. She had sniffed a portion of a Nobel prize a couple of times and really felt that she was going to win one solo some years before. But it had never happened, and those days were now passed. Kicking the can of human knowledge down the road was a game for the young. The last decade of her career had been spent in the classroom, teaching the next generation of scientific geniuses… which was a sarcastic joke. She was teaching normal American students.

She divided students into two categories: those that couldn't be taught and those that didn't want to be taught. Both groups were filled with brown-nosing sycophants that begged for grades they didn't earn. Her tolerance for the time-wasting questions which these students threw out in class in order to demonstrate class participation had more than once brought Velma to the point of openly questioning Darrow University's entry standards. The latest of these classroom outbursts had been recorded and gone just a little viral prompting the suggestion that maybe it was time for her to retire. The suggestion came from the Dean of her Department. She had thought it was a good idea.

But she had no desire to be retired without her husband of 35 years and so she had broached the idea to Shaggy of them retiring together. This was a much harder decision for him. To understand why requires an understanding of how he had spent the last three and a half decades.

Shockingly, Shaggy had eventually lost his preoccupation with eating under a barrage of lectures from his doctor about cholesterol, blood pressure, type 2 diabetes, and a myriad of other ailments which the blood work from his annual check-ups warned were looming on the horizon. Velma had reiterated the doctor's warnings without the professional politeness. She had always considered politeness to be an impediment to effective communication and so she ignored it when she considered something truly important.

Just as Velma was beginning to gain a few pounds, Shaggy went on a diet. So, in the last few years, he had regained the string bean physique of his youth (although with some gravity-induced adjustments). While, on the other hand, when Velma looked in a mirror, she saw Mrs. Claus looking back at her. Pacing back and forth in front of a bunch of barely-awake freshmen in first semester physics did not replace running marathons in terms of burning calories.

Losing his mammoth appetite had not changed Shaggy's love of cooking and running restaurants. On the contrary, it had simply morphed into a love of the management and marketing side of things. He transitioned out of the kitchen and into the front rooms - speaking with and entertaining the customers. The transition had continued into the boardroom as his single restaurant had grown again into regional restaurants and then into a national and then international chain. Then they had added hotels and even a flagship convention center which the corporation had decided to keep close to home in Riley. The corporate headquarters remained in Crystal Cove. It occupied a complete floor of Crystal Cove's only office building which had once housed the workspace where Tim McAdams had started his psychology practice with Velma and Fred as two of his first patients.

Shaggy had incorporated into a hospitality corporation three decades before and immediately gone public in order to bring in some cash flow for expansion. The stocks traded on the NYSE and he retained a controlling interest. The stocks had started out trading at $3.50 per share. Those same stocks were now selling at $231.74 per share. Factoring in 30 years of inflation, Shaggy wasn't filthy rich, but his financial planner had told him at their last meeting that he would have to live to the age of 120 to run out of money if he retired. With his life expectancy being 102, he alone had made enough money for him and Velma to retire and live the life they wanted to live. Factor in the 47 industrial patents that Velma owned, and it became clear that financial worries did not play a factor in his decision regarding retirement.

What held him back was that Shaggy still loved traveling from restaurant to restaurant and talking about food and occasionally indulging in reminiscences about mystery solving with guests. The conversation where Velma had finally convinced him to call it a career had started with her getting him seated out on the deck in the backyard overlooking the river on a beautiful Spring day. She had brought him a tall, cool drink and then sat down in his lap. This was not so unusual except for the fact that Velma had removed all of her clothes.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered into his ear, "If we retire, then we can spend every day like this."

Shaggy's initial response was to feverishly hunt for his Viagra pills. His second response occurred after he found his Viagra pills. His third response was to wait for his heartrate to return to normal. His fourth response was that retirement sounded like a good idea.

And that is what led to this day, Velma's 65th birthday which was also the first day of their joint retirement. And that was why there was a party. The excitement of the coming festivities was punctuated by Shaggy's heavy snoring from the sunroom. A few years previously, Velma had forced Shaggy to go to a sleep clinic to be tested for sleep apnea. The doctors had said his sleep patterns were normal. She just knew that the chainsaw-like noises coming from her husband were not normal. But she wasn't going to convince him to go twice.

Velma's A-Eye vibrated on the counter and a small placard appeared to float in the air above it. Incoming call from Sarah. Accept?. She spoke into the air, "Answer." The placard was immediately replaced by a holographic image of Sarah.

"Hi Mom. We're on the front porch. Letting ourselves in."

Velma started toward the front of the house, "Hold your horses. I can still open a door. I'll meet you there and let you in."

The hologram of her daughter rolled her eyes, "No one does that anymore. Just stay in the kitchen. We'll come to you."

The front door was programmed to open on the command of any of four people. Sarah was one of them.

Velma stopped and returned to the kitchen counter where she was trying to make a pie. It seemed like something a retired grandmother should do. She had split atoms. How hard could making an apple pie be? She stared down at the mess that had started in one bowl and gradually spread over most of the kitchen, "Fine. I'll wait here." Velma then poked her head into the den, "Shaggy! Wake up. Sarah's here."

A nap-ending snort was followed by the robotic whirring of the electric reclining chair as it slowly brought Shaggy to a standing position. He was on his way.

A rapid-fire series of footfalls bounded through the house and 12-year old Timmy came charging into the kitchen. He ran right up to his grandmother and stopped short. Standing straight and tall, he held his hand up to the top of his head and then moved it over to the top of Velma's.

She smiled broadly, "Didn't anyone ever tell you it was impolite to compare heights with your grandmother before hugging her?"

He leaned in and grudgingly allowed himself to be hugged as only a 12-year-old boy can and then immediately stood straight and ran his hand over from the top of his head to the top of Velma's. "I'm taller than you are!"

Velma shook her head, "Nope. You're cheating. Your hand isn't level."

Sarah moved into the kitchen laughing, "I'm pretty sure it's level, Mom. I'm afraid that you are officially the shortest one in the family."

"Alas, I knew this day would come." Velma broke out another smile and gave her daughter a long hug. This was followed by a briefer hug for her son-in-law, Reggie, who had quietly entered during the conversation, laden with luggage.

Velma didn't have to consciously think about smiling anymore. She remembered the conversation she had had with Amanda Black – one of the clients of the old private detective agency – who had told her that faking emotions was something that a mother needed to do for her children. They needed to be surrounded by smiles and laughter. After Sarah was born, Velma instantly knew that to be true. After 33… no, 34 years of faking smiles and faking laughs, they came almost as naturally as if they were real.

Shaggy stepped into the large kitchen and hugged his grandson and his daughter and then shared a brief man-hug with his son-in-law who had just put their luggage down.

Shaggy started the male communication ritual, "How was traffic?"

Reggie Brown shrugged, "I didn't pay attention. I blacked out the windows so Timmy might get some sleep. A plan which failed since he was so excited about coming here. But the car seemed to move more than it was stopped for most of the trip. At least until we got to the other side of Riley. But we made it here on time, so I guess the nav system guessed the traffic about right."

"Do you know what route it took?"

"Naw. I really didn't pay any attention. I nodded off myself a couple of times."

"I've never gotten used to that, but I guess you grew up knowing nothing else."

They had made almost two minutes of conversation – which might be a new record. Shaggy got along fine with his son-in-law but conversations between dads and their daughter's husbands have always been awkward. It's a time-honored tradition of the male of the species. It was actually odd that Shaggy even had a son-in-law. Marriage was now the exception rather than the rule and held no legal standing. It was considered a quaint retro excuse to have a blow-out party.

Reggie gave the last line of the required dialogue, "I'll take the luggage to our rooms." And he was on his way up the stairs.

Velma's A-Eye vibrated again and she saw the placard Incoming call from Nan. Accept? She said "Yes" and Nan's hologram appeared.

"We're at the front door, Mom. Letting ourselves in."

She didn't need to go through the whole thing about the door again, "We're all in the kitchen."

They heard the front door open and another dashing run into the kitchen but this one was aimed at Shaggy as 13-year-old Natalie came crashing into his mid-section.

"Grandpa!"

Tall for her age at 5'-3", her height made her stand out almost as much as her bright green eyes and fiery red hair. Shaggy wrapped his arms around her in a huge bearhug, "There's my girl!"

Nan (sharing her daughter's green eyes but with blonde hair) came in behind her daughter and hugged Velma and then Shaggy, "Hi Mom. Hi Dad. Do you have anything to drink?"

Shaggy stepped over to the refrigerator, "We've got water and orange juice. And we may some have some colas stashed somewhere."

"Dad, I've been trapped in a car with an excited 13-year-old who packed away every sugared drink or snack she could find for the last nine hours. I need a drink."

He remembered the feeling from 23 years before and smiled, "You know where the bar is. Help yourself."

Reggie was coming down from upstairs, "Did someone say 'bar'?"

Shaggy opened the door to the fridge, "I put a six-pack of beers in here last night. Just for you."

Reggie reached in and grabbed one, "You sir, are my hero."

"Too bad my cape is at the dry cleaners." It was a joke that had always been bad but was now incomprehensible since environmental laws had forced the last of the dry cleaners out of business two decades earlier. But if dad jokes were supposed to be bad, then granddad jokes should be that much worse.

Nan looked at her daughter, "Natalie, take your suitcase and backpack up to our room."

Sarah then looked at her son, "And Timmy, why don't you take your Aunt Nan's suitcase up, too."

Timmy looked back and forth between Sarah and Nan, putting together the clues, "You are going to have some 'adult talk', huh?"

Sara rubbed the top of his head, "No fooling you. Yes, so why don't you two go into your room and watch some holos for a while? We'll let you know when we're done."

The two tweens only struggled with the luggage a little as they wrestled the suitcases up the stairs. The adults all watched them go in silence until they heard Timmy's door shut.

Velma looked at Sarah and Nan, "Adult talk?"

Nan started, "The kids have been watching the old shows."

Shaggy laughed, "Those old things? I didn't think kids watched 2D anymore."

Sarah answered, "They do if their grandparents are the stars of the show."

Nan jumped back in, "And they've started asking questions about Fred, Daphne, and Scooby Doo."

Shaggy and Velma spoke in unison, "Oh."

Nan continued, "We think it's time that you explained everything to them like you did with us."

Velma absently started stirring the bowl which contained what was intended to be apple pie crust but was looking more like lumps, "But they're so young."

Nan shook her head, "We were a lot younger when you told us."

"But we had to tell you. It was important for you to know exactly who your parents are."

A hint of sadness washed across Nan's face at Velma's deliberate decision to speak about Fred and Daphne in the present tense. She pushed the sadness away, "And we have to tell Natalie and Timmy, too. Before they start researching it on the internet and start getting into all of those crazy conspiracy theories. They should hear it from you. You were there."

Shaggy looked over at Velma, "They're right."

Velma looked from Shaggy to Nan to Sarah and then back to Shaggy, "I know they are. When do we want to do it?"

Shaggy shrugged, "Let's get it over with."

Sarah stepped over to the foot of the stairs and yelled up, "Timmy! Natalie! Can you come downstairs? We have something we need to talk about with you."

Children aren't stupid and being sent upstairs so the adults could 'talk' and then almost immediately being called back down meant that something major was afoot. They came down the stairs slowly and warily, wondering if whatever was causing all of this intrigue was their fault.

Natalie was the more outgoing of the two and spoke just as her foot touched down on the ground floor, "Are we in trouble?"

Nan had recognized her child's tentative and worried facial expression and was ready for the question, "No. Not at all. There are some things about our family history that you are old enough to learn and Grandma and Grandpa are going to tell you."

Shaggy stepped forward and smiled, "But, before we do, I am not going to let everyone forget that this is a party. And what's a party without good stuff to eat?!"

Both children got excited because when Grandpa said 'good stuff to eat', it was usually GREAT stuff to eat. "What is it? What is it?"

With the panache of a trained chef, he pulled out a self-protecting platter of… bagels!

The kids stared at the small pile of bagels and waited for the rest of it. Bagels were fine. And these looked like very nice bagels. But they were… bagels.

Shaggy put on an over-emoted face of confusion, "What? Bagels aren't exciting enough for you? Well, that's just a bummer. I don't know what else… Oh yes. There is something more! To go on the bagels, we have… honey!"

The children's mouths dropped open. Natalie had eaten real honey once in her life. Timmy had never tasted it.

Sarah's mouth dropped open along with the kids, "Dad, how on earth did you get honey?"

Shaggy allowed himself a slight self-satisfied smirk, "The Government auctioned off a few cases and I was able to get one for the restaurants. I brought a jar home just for this occasion."

Nan beamed, "Wow. Just wow. You've outdone yourself this time."

Shaggy tossed six of the bagels into the toaster (Velma said something about carbs and declined), then added a hint of butter, raised the jar into the air, and opened it - breaking the Government seal on the side. He had to pop it into the microwave for a few seconds to get the crystals to melt and then he pulled out an actual wooden honey-dipper which he had ordered special.

What followed was several minutes of sticky mess followed by neither of the kids actually liking the taste. They had both grown up with dessert syrup which had a different flavor than honey. But they were not going to admit it and they were definitely going to brag to their friends at home that they had tasted actual honey. In the telling, it would be pure ambrosia, nectar of the gods.

Velma again reveled in her husband's ability to do just the right thing to relax the family from the tension of a few moments before down to being ready to hear their story. Within her the tension remained. She was not as nervous as when they had told the story to Nan and Sara almost thirty years before. The buffering of an additional generation would take out a lot of the sting. But it would still be a shock, especially for Natalie.

After the honey-drenched bagels were devoured, everyone quickly dispersed to various sinks around the house to try and scrape the gooey substance from their mouths, chins, and fingers. When this was done and maternal inspections (along with two wife inspections) were complete, the family moved into the spacious family room and gathered around Shaggy and Velma's favorite chairs. Reggie, Sarah, and Nan sat on the large, stuffed sofa and the kids took their favorite spot on the faux bearskin rug in front of the fireplace.

All eyes looked to Velma and Shaggy. Then Velma turned her face toward Shaggy and every eye was focused on him. He took the hint, and looked down at the kids, "Your parents tell me that you've been looking at our old television shows. Do you have any questions about them?"

Timmy's hand immediately went up. Shaggy smiled, "Timmy, you don't have to raise your hand. There's only two of you here. What's the question?"

Timmy looked up at his grandfather, "Why were your eyes so red back then?"

Nan barely held in a laugh and Sarah failed to hold it in and let out a honking noise. Velma's eyes twinkled brightly.

Shaggy's face reddened, "We probably don't need to answer that question just right now."

Timmy had a follow-up question, "What's a stoner? That's what Mom said when I asked her about it."

Shaggy turned to his daughter, "You did?"

Sarah grimaced, "Maybe the points I lose for bad parenting, I make up for in honesty?"

Shaggy turned back to the kids, "We'll have a totally separate conversation about your grandfather's poor life choices and why you should not follow in those footsteps. But that is not what we're here to talk about. Do you have any other questions?"

While Natalie was more naturally outgoing, Timmy was the more inquisitive of the two and his hand shot up again before he slowly lowered it, "Was Scooby Doo real? Or was he made up on a computer?"

All smiles faded in the room as Shaggy answered, "Scooby Doo is very real. And he is the best friend that I ever had that's not sitting in this room right now."

"And he could really talk?"

"Yes. He could really talk. The Government studied that for years. Your grandmother has all of the data on that. It was declassified a few years ago and she can explain it all to you when you have a few hours and a high boredom threshold."

Velma reached over and softly swatted Shaggy on the arm. She smiled so that the kids would know that she wasn't really mad.

Natalie spoke for the first time, "Then who were Fred and Daphne?"

Shaggy took a long, deep breath. He could delay the answer by talking about Fred and Daphne as people and what they were like and how close they had been with he and Velma. But, as Velma frequently said, that would be a narrative form of communication rather than a fact-based form of communication and therefore inefficient. He looked straight into Natalie's eyes, "Fred and Daphne are your grandparents."

Natalie just stared for a moment before speaking, "But… you are my grandparents." Her eyes began to moisten in confusion.

Shaggy opened his mouth but then realized that, if he tried to speak, he would start crying. He reached over and gripped Velma's wrist.

Velma understood what was happening with her husband and realized that she was going to have to take it from this point. Her first inclination was to provide a brief lecture regarding biological versus social family structures with a quick dalliance into genetics. But that would not be right. Her granddaughter was confused and afraid and needed to be reassured. She thought through options and quickly chose the one that she thought Daphne would have wanted her to say.

"Yes. We are your grandparents, and we always will be and we love you very, very much." Okay, now she was about to cry but nothing would be accomplished if both she and Shaggy started blubbering all over each other. She held it in and kept going, "You understand where babies come from, right?"

Timmy answered since Natalie was still speechless, "They taught us that in fifth grade. It was boring and kind of gross."

"Well, what they taught you last year is one way that you can define a family. That is called a biological family. But there is another way. The other way is the people who love you more than anything in the world and care for you and who raised you. We are your grandparents that way and Fred and Daphne are your grandparents the biological way."

Natalie looked at her mother, "Fred and Daphne are your parents?"

Nan nodded, "My biological parents. Yes."

"So, they gave birth to you, but they didn't love you?"

Shaggy was afraid of how Nan would answer that question, so he cut her off, "Fred and Daphne loved your mother very much."

Shaggy watched Nan's eyes as she thought about arguing but she made the decision to remain quiet.

Natalie looked at Shaggy, "What happened to them?"

Timmy chimed in, "And Scooby Doo?"

Without looking away from the children's expectant faces, Shaggy reached out his hand and felt Velma take it and hold it. He again forced down tears and pushed through to the answer that he so hated.

"We don't know."