Hey! I'm back. Thank you to MelodySouth65 and Guest for reviewing the last chapter.

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

08/10/2019

SO. Scrooge is not EXACTLY thrilled with me. Turns out he doesn't like the idea of us having a massive party in his house.

I must say I was quite surprised when he walked into the kitchen with seven letters and put them in front of me with the question: "What are these?"

Now. I find it very hard when someone asks such an OBVIOUS question as that, not to role my eyes and answer sarcastically, however seeing as it's Scrooge I said, politely. "They're letters, Uncle Scrooge."

He clicked his tongue. "Ah knoow that! It's your writing, why are you writing us letters? We live in the same house as you. Think of the money you've wasted!"

Yes. A whole tenner. What a tragedy. Excuse me while I put myself into time-out.

However – with an exceeding amount of patience – I said. "Why don't you read it and then maybe you'll see why I sent it to you?"

So, muttering under his breath, he ripped the letter open and started it read it. While he was doing that the kids came in and instantly saw the pile of letters. "Oh cool!" Dewey said. "Any for us?"

"One for each of you."

"Even me!?" Webby said, practically bubbling over with delight.

I smiled. "Even you."

So there was a lot of excitement and talking as the kids delved into their letters and read it over. It wasn't a long invitation and, as a matter of fact, I was slightly concerned that Scrooge hadn't actually SAID anything yet, but I was distracted when Dewey yelled.

"A PARTY!? Awesome!" He fist-bumped the air. "Mom, mom – can I be the DJ? I'm a good DJ, Huey, tell her I'm a good DJ!"

"He's a good DJ." Huey said, in a manner that reminded me of off the absent-mindedly way we would talk to Feathry when we were younger.

"Exactly!" Dewey said, clearly not picking up on the tone. "I can do it! I know I can do it, let me do it, mom? Please, please, please, please, pleeeeeaaaaasssseee?"

"Oh, let him do it mom." Louie said. "Otherwise he won't shut up about it all day and I'll have to do something drastic."

"Exact- wait. What do you MEAN something drastic!?"

"Yes, you can be the DJ." I said, before the argument got out of hand.

"Who've you invited to this thing?" Scrooge said, starling us all because he hadn't spoken for literally about ten minutes.

I ran through the list of potential attendees, and Scrooge – of course had issues with 3 of them. The first was Abner.

"Ah am not having that layabout in ma hoose!"

Okey. I'll hold my hands up here. When I complied the guest list I MAY have complexly forgotten that Scrooge and Abner have what I call a 'Hate-hate' relationship. I'm not sure what happened, it's never really been discussed. I think it had something to do with an old girlfriend of his? But I really don't know, so yeah.

The other two were Gladstone and Feathry because – and I quote. "What have they done to be invited!?" I don't know what's more dumbfounding about that, the idea that Scrooge thinks you have to 'earn' the right to be invited somewhere or the implication that if – by some miracle– HE decided to throw a party Gladstone and Feathry wouldn't be invited. I mean I know the pair of them can be extremely annoying at times – VERY annoying – but they do have their good qualities as well and they ARE family, so…

Wow. But of a rant there. Anyway – so after I called him down about the guest list he started on the NEXT thing. "Where are we having this party, then?"

"Here!"

"HERE!? And when, may I ask, did you decide that?"

I thought a moment. "…Last week?"

"Las-! Right, kids. Ooot. I need a word with your mother." So the kids all trooped out, shooting me little worried looks as they did so.

As soon as they'd gone Scrooge rounded on me. "Ah do wish you would THINK of things before you do them, Della! I mean, has it even OCCURRED to you that I might noot WANT a party in ma hoose!?"

"It's your family." I shot back, hotly. "Why WOULDN'T you want them here!? And anyway, have YOU considered that the whole reason I'm planning this thing in the first place is because of the SMALL fact of – I havn't SEEN most of them in ELVEN YEARS!"

"And who's fault was that!?" Scrooge snapped back.

I felt like I'd been kicked in the stomach. I felt physically sick, I mean, I'm TRYING, why can't anyone see that!? Do they not REALISE that it wasn't my intention to get stuck in space for over a decade!?

Scrooges eyes softened and he said, with rare tenderness. "Della-"

I screamed a curse at him that would have had Beakley fainting in horror and stormed upstairs, brushing past the kids who tried to ask me if I was alright. I then cried into my pillow for a little bit. Then I think I must have fell asleep for a little bit because I woke up with that groggy and dis-orientated feeling you get if you have a nap in the middle of the afternoon. I instantly wished Donald was with me – mainly so I could scream at him for a little bit – but unfortunately he's gone to take the houseboat out on the actual sea for a bit. Something about 'clearing his head' for a bit? I don't blame him. A LOT has been going on in the past couple of months and him being, you know, stuck on an island for about a month in TOTAL isolation probably hasn't helped.

Anyway. Yeah. That was today. I must admit Scrooge has sapped my enthusiasm for said party, although on the bright side the boys, Webby and Beakley have all said they're coming. And Duckworth. Can't forget Duckworth.

So yeah. That's a positive, isn't it? Isn't it? I think it is. I need a second opinion - I know - I'll run it by Donald when he get's back.

Anyway, catch you next time diary!