Hey! I'm back, thank you to MelodySouth65 and Guest for reviewing the last chapter as well as those who keep favouriting and following this thing.

See chapter 1 for the disclaimer and let's crack on.

02/10/2019

Warning: A bit of language. [Donald was a sailor after all…]

So I have come up with an absolutely AMAZING BRILLIANT FANTASTIC IDEA. We are going to throw a party! Eeeeekkkk! I know, how exciting – I've not been to a party since the baby shower I threw to confirm the fact I was pregnant. So 12 years.

I decided this at 2 AM last night, while trying to beat insomnia and I have a simple rule when it comes to these ideas that hit me in the middle of the night – if they still seem a good idea the next morning then we go ahead with it. Isn't that right, brain? Why yes, yes it is, Della. Perfectly right.

So as I said, I woke up this morning and I was like 'Well, I better get cracking on that brilliant idea I had last night' and went off to find Donald.

Could I find him anywhere? No. I tried his room, the living room, the kitchen, anywhere you can think off. Eventually I resorted to knocking on Scrooges study and asking him.

He looked at me, lowered his glasses and said. "Hav' you tried the house-boat?"

I clicked my fingers. "No. No I haven't. I'll go now. Thanks Unc."

So I went to the houseboat. God knows why I didn't just START THERE to BEGIN with but never mind…

Sure enough twinsie was there, trying [and failing] to put up a shelf.

I'm not entirety sure how to write this, but I'm gonna give it a go. So – picture the scene – he's stood there with nails in his beak, a piece of wood in his hands and is trying to hammer the nails into the wall. Sounds a simple enough process right? Not for my bro.

'Waaakk!" He splutters in anger as he tried to position a nail without it slipping. "Fucking stupid thing! Stay still you piece of-!"

"Donald…" I said, in my sweetest voice. "You do realise you're screaming at a nail, right?"

"WELL IT SHOULDN'T HAVE ANNOYED ME!"

"Again - It's a nail, Don!"

He muttered something under his breath which I think was directed at me and didn't sound complimentary in the slightest, however I just steamrolled on with. "Anyway, dear brother of mine, I want to run a plan by you so put the hammer down, take a breath and take a seat." I pulled out a chair and indicated for him to sit at it.

He grumbled a bit more, but did actually do what I asked. "This better not be another adventure Del, I'm still recovering from the last one-"

"-It's not-" I assured him.

"-Well what is it then?"

"-If you shut up a minute I'm trying to tell you! I want to throw a party."

Donald looked confused. "A what?"

I looked at him in disbelief. "A party! You know, food, music, dancing, that kind of thing. C'mon, Don, I know I've been gone a good few years but you must have had SOME parties while I was gone, surely?"

"Oh yeah, cos we had SO much to celebrate…"

I fixed him with a look. "The boys birthday?"

He froze and a guilty look came over his face. "We, er…I mean…we kinda…er…"

I looked at him in amazement. "Seriously!?"

He threw his arms in the air. "We were poor! I did my best, but it wasn't enough to throw proper parties for them like what you're imagining! We had to make do with the houseboat, a CD player and whatever Gladstone brought-slash-won for them! And whatever cake I could cook for them! We…" He trailed of looking at my extremely confused face and shrugged, hopelessly. "…We made do, Dells."

There was silence for quite a few seconds while I just…looked at him in utter disbelief. Then I snapped. "N-no! What – what about Scrooge!?"

Donald scrunched his beak up. "Oh…him." He sighed. "Well, turns out he WAS actually looking for you but…I didn't know that. I just though he didn't care." Oh geez, his voice was SO bitter when he said this next bit that it was listening to a stranger. "I though he was just being the king of the money bin, counting his money and just wrapped up in past memories and unable to confront the reality that was-" He took a deep breath and said, steadily. "You left. We – we thought you were DEAD Dells - do you not understand that!? I was left raising YOUR boys because of YOUR stupidity!" By this point he had stood up and was shouting and I flinched, but managed to not interrupt. "And now-" He spluttered, face slowly turning red. "You come back and you – you want a PARTY!? Like that's going to fix everything!?" He took a breath, steadied himself on the back of the chair and said, through gritted teeth. "Who would we even INVITE anyway, Dells? Huh? Who? Everyone's practically dead in out family anyway, so who exactly are you thinking would come to this mythical party of yours?"

When I was sure he'd finished ranting, I said slowly. "Well…I was thinking we would come up with formal invitations. Invite everyone in the manor – including Auntie Beakley, Webby and Duckworth of course – as well as Feathry and Gladstone of course. We could invite that Violet girl Webby likes. Oh - and Grandma and Gus of course." A thought stuck me and then looked at Donald. "Grandma is alive, isn't she?"

He nodded and sank back into the chair. "Yeah." He said, like he hadn't just erupted twenty seconds ago. "Grandma's old but still kicking."

"Great, and Gus?"

"He's fine. Does a lot of the work still on Grandma's farm, but don't mention that to Grandma if you see her. She likes to think she does most of it herself."

"Got it – by the way, how old is Gus now?"

Donnie paused and tilted his head as he thought then said, slowly. "Forty…three, I think. Hold on. Yeah, 43."

I shook my head. "Geez, time flies. Anyway those two, and - " I paused before looking at my twin. " - Is there any point asking about Abner?"

Donald hummed a little, clearly deep in though, then said. "…We could try. The problem with Abner – apart from the obvious – is that I don't know where exactly he's living, so…"

"Well, we could ask Feathry, couldn't we? Ooh – actually." I though for a few seconds then clicked my fingers. "We know where Feathry lives don't we? So if we're sending an invitation to Feathry, why don't we send Abner's to the same address and just write on the card – the envelope that is – to be forwarded to Abner's current place of living? Sound good?"

Donald shrugged. "We could give it a go. I wouldn't get your hopes up though. He didn't even show up for his own 40th two years ago." I must have looked incredulous, because D held his hands in the air and said. "Don't ask."

Fair enough. Anyway I carried on. "Uncle Ludwig and Auntie Matilda?"

There was a silence and I looked up to see Donald looking at me awquadly. "…What?"

"Dells…I'm sorry to have to tell you this but…Ludwig's dead. He died about two years ago. I'm sorry."

I couldn't talk for a little bit because I was sitting there in shock, but eventually I got the braincells to say. "What off?"

"Heart attack. It…it was sudden."

"And Aunt Matilda?"

"Not technically dead but…" Don took a deep breath. "Late stages of Dementia. She's had it officially for five years, un-officially…probably for 8 or 9. She lives in Scotland in a care-home. I think Scrooge is paying for it."

I opened my mouth to speak, but instead found myself making this kind of strange wailing sound. Donald instantly got up, walked round and hugged me.

After a bit of a cry I managed to steady myself. "Geez…and Gladstone?"

Donald looked confused. "He's defiantly alive, Della, you saw him two days ago-"

"-No! How'd he react to the news?"

"Devastated." Donald said immediately. "Like genuinely…yeah. Well, he's basically lost his parents twice didn't he? He went over to Sctoland for the funeral. It was held in Scotland – the funeral was. Ludwig's request."

I held up a hand. "I get the picture. Let's – let's stop talking about it. So…" I closed my eyes and counted out loud the people that where invited to this thing. Donald nodded.

"Sounds good." He was about to leave when I thought of something.

"Oh and, Don? If you want to invite some friends along, that's fine."

"What sort of friends?"

I gave him a look. "Oh anyone you can rustle out of fruit, Don – what sort of friends do you think I mean? I mean Mickey, Minnie, Goofy, Max, Daisy-"

"-Not Daisy." Donald said quickly.

I gave him yet another look. "Wha-why not Daisy? What happened with Daisy?" I saw how uncomfortable he looked and added. "Do I need to hit her or something…?"

"No! Of course not, don't be ridiculous-"

"Well what happened!?"

"I'M NOT TELLING YOU! Just get on with the list!" Now If there's one ting I've learnt from being Donald Duck's twin over the years it's when to press him and when NOT to press him and this was a definite DON'T.

"Fine!" I racked my brains, then clicked my fingers. "What about your boyfriends?"

Don turned beat red and snapped. "They are not my boyfriends!"

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah sure, whatever Don. Are we inviting them or not?"

"…Yes. Yes! Obviously, yes."

I gave him a beaming grin. "Well, that's sorted then. Now the date…I was thinking end of November. I believe the 30th is a Saturday?"

"Where are we having this party, Della?"

"Here, Don. We're having it in Scrooges manor."

Donald's eyes went comically wide. "Have you asked him?" He managed to choke out.

I waved my hand. "It'll be fine! He loves me, I'll just give him the puppy-dog eyes and he'll cave."

Donald looked at me before shaking his head and saying – with audible fondness. "Whatever you say Dell."