Minnie smiled as Daisy stood in front of her mirror, turning one way and then the other as she smoothed invisible wrinkles in her gown and checked her hair.
"Daisy, relax. You could go downstairs wearing a flour sack, and you'd still knock Donald off his feet."
Daisy turned and looked at her.
"You really think so?"
Minnie walked over and gently squeezed her friend's hand.
"I know so," she said, then hugged her. "I'm so happy for you."
Daisy smiled as they separated, then her face fell a little.
"I'm really sorry that stupid Mortimer is gonna be there. But he is a business associate of Donald's uncle, and…"
Minnie shook her head.
"Don't worry about it. I just don't understand why Mr. McDuck deals with him. It might just be me, but I don't trust him as far as I could throw a house."
"Well, actually…" Daisy looked around and stepped closer, lowering her voice. "Donald told me that he thinks Mortimer is under investigation for fraud, and his uncle is communicating his dealings to the police." Minnie gasped, and Daisy smiled grimly.
"So it's money again," Minnie said. "That's why he's chasing me." She turned to hide the tears welling in her eyes. "That's all anyone who approaches me is looking at."
"Oh, Minnie…" Daisy wrapped her arms around the mouse. "You know, you don't have to come. You could just drop off a nice present, and…"
Minnie shook her head.
"No… no, I'm sorry. This is your night, I'm your friend, and I should be there."
A knock sounded on the door and Clarabelle's voice came from the other side.
"Y' know, if you stay up here too long, someone might start dropping hints you've reconsidered!" The two girls heard the hidden anxiety in her voice and rolled their eyes as they each concluded who that "someone" was and that said hints had already been dropped.
"Guess it's time, then," Minnie said, making Daisy's eyes sparkle with excitement before she grew concerned again.
"Are you sure you'll be okay?" she asked. Minnie nodded, smiling.
"Of course." Daisy smiled back and hugged her.
"We'll watch your back." Minnie giggled and pushed her toward the door.
"Forget me, this is your party." After her friend hurried out, Minnie glanced upward and touched the necklace she was wearing.
"I hope you were right, Mother," she said with a sigh. "I have a feeling I'll need some luck before the evening is over."
Minnie walked through the crowd, smiling as she saw Donald and Daisy with the couples out dancing to the music. She smiled at the loving look shining in each other's eyes. Thankfully, she hadn't had to deal with Mortimer yet. Of course, with his rude catcalls, he was proving relatively easy to avoid. As she moved further, looking for Clarabelle, she suddenly saw something that made her eyes widen.
It was one of the servers, a young mouse like her. He was moving around quickly but gracefully, his voice respecting but strong, and whenever someone gave him a tip, he gave them a grateful smile and thanked them. He had a cheerful, confident attitude that Minnie had never seen in a worker. She found herself watching him intently until he disappeared.
"See something you like?"
Minnie jumped and spun around to see Clarabelle grinning.
"O-oh… well, I… I…" the female mouse stuttered as her face heated. Clarabelle smiled wider and motioned in the direction the male mouse had gone.
"He's that friend of Horace's I told you about. Got laid off a while ago. Smart of him to come here, I must say. He's never gonna make anything from that Rodawn cheapskate."
Minnie looked up, startled.
"He works for Mortimer?" she asked. Clarabelle snorted.
"If you can call it that. The poor thing's lucky to get a quid a day from the cheap sucker, but he takes work anywhere he can now. Anyway, I'd better get back to work myself."
Minnie nodded, but her mind was elsewhere. It sounded like her life wasn't the only one Mortimer was making hard. She found herself feeling sorry for the handsome worker and wondering what his name was. As she started moving through the crowd again, Minnie kept an eye out for him.
Suddenly, she heard a child crying and turned to see a little girl, not much older than four years, clinging to the skirt of a woman who was apparently her mother and trying to comfort her. Minnie was about to go ask if she could help when he appeared again, still smiling but his eyes full of concern.
"Is everything all right, ma'am?"
The woman gave him a polite smile.
"Thank you, but we're all right."
Minnie couldn't help frowning. He was just trying to help, and she was brushing him off like that? Just then, the little girl peeked up at the male mouse. He gave her a smile, and her crying slowed a little.
"I can't find Molly," she whimpered. "She got lost in all these people." The worker's eyes lit up, but he quickly made himself look serious.
"Oh, really? Well, ya know… I actually ran into someone a while ago who said she was lookin' for a really important friend of hers." He reached into his pocket as he spoke and pulled out a small doll. "I've got her right here," he said, kneeling down and holding it up so the girl could see.
"Molly!" she squealed, letting go of her mother's skirt and snatching the doll. "You finded her!" Minnie smiled, her heart fluttering, at the mouse's warm chuckle.
"Make sure ya keep an eye on her, now. She was real sad t' be away from ya."
The girl's mother looked at him with a new respect as the little girl hugged her doll.
"Thank you," she said with genuine warmth. Still watching from a distance, Minnie saw her reach into her purse and hold some money out. His eyes instantly widened.
"G-gosh, ma'am…" she heard him say. "I… I can't…" The mother smiled and shook her head.
"Please, it's the least I can do." After a moment, the worker took the tip.
"Thank ya so much, ma'am," he said with a wide smile. "Ya really didn't have to."
"It's perfectly all right," the woman replied, and then turned to her daughter, who was still hugging her doll. "Can you tell the nice man 'thank you', dear?"
The little girl immediately threw her arms around the mouse as far as they could reach.
"Thank you thank you thank you!" she gushed. After her mother led her away, Minnie watched the male mouse take out a large pouch. He put the tip inside, and then shuffled through it. A wide grin came to his face and he quickly replaced the pouch in his pocket, hurrying back through the crowd. Suddenly remembering that she wanted to talk to him, Minnie hurried in the same direction.
As she moved through the crowd, she suddenly heard a voice that made her groan.
"Hey you! This drink isn't right!" The polite but slightly annoyed voice of the mouse followed.
"Look, Mr. Rodawn, I didn't bring that and I've got other people waitin' for me. I'll be back once I…"
"If y' want to keep your job, you'll do it now!"
Being careful not to be seen, Minnie walked to a garden plant and peeked around it. Sure enough, there was Mortimer, undoubtedly drunk. The male mouse was holding a tray, and Minnie could see anger in his eyes.
"Listen, sir," he said, his voice dripping with bitterness. "With all due respect, I don't think it's gonna kill you t' wait a few minutes. Now if you'll excuse me…"
But as he turned, Mortimer stood, his face red. At that moment, one of his "business associates" appeared in front of the mouse. He jumped, startled, but managed to keep the tray balanced.
"You better watch yerself there, kid," the burly man snarled. "Remember who yer talkin' to!"
His meaty hand shot out and smacked the mouse's shoulder. Minnie gasped as he fell, dropping the tray. Mortimer yelped as the contents spilled on him.
"You idiot!" he yelled. "This is a new suit!" The mouse sat up and glared daggers at him.
"So go buy a new one," he snapped. Mortimer's face twisted in a snarl, and then he lurched forward and snatched the pouch from the mouse's belt.
"Since you wrecked it, YOU'RE gonna buy it!"
The mouse's face instantly filled with horror as he leaped to his feet.
"No, please! That-that's not for me! I'll pay you for it some other way! Please, someone really needs that money!" Mortimer snorted rudely and stuffed the pouch in his pocket.
"Then y' should a' thought of that before y' decided to mouth off," he slurred. "N' you can forget about havin' any more work from me. Beagle, let's go."
With that, he turned. To Minnie's astonishment the mouse clenched his fists and stormed toward him.
"Now wait a minute! Come back here…!" Before he could finish, the large man turned and shoved him hard, knocking him back down in the mess from the dropped tray before clomping off after Mortimer. The mouse grunted hard as he hit the ground, and slowly sat up. Minnie felt tears well in her eyes when she saw his slumped shoulders and the terrible sadness in his eyes. He buried his face in his hand.
Slowly, she stepped out from behind the plant and walked up to him.
"Excuse me," she said softly. "Are you all right?" He looked up, and immediately began trying to gather the broken glass.
"I-I'm sorry, miss…" he stammered. "I-I was just…" As he reached out, Minnie gasped. His left glove was stained with red.
"Oh my goodness, you're bleeding!"
He glanced at his hand and cleared his throat.
"It… it's not that bad…" Minnie took it and bit her lip when she saw the deep cut in his palm. She quickly pulled out her handkerchief and pressed it to the wound.
"Here, hold this tight and come with me." He glanced at the mess.
"But, I…"
Minnie shook her head and took his arm.
"You have to get that hand taken care of now. Someone else will get that."
The mouse let out a heavy sigh and nodded, letting Minnie lead him toward the kitchen of the house. Once inside, Minnie pulled off his glove and began washing the cut. As she did, she realized he was watching her with a curious expression.
"Beg your pardon, miss, but aren't you Mr. Mouse's daughter?"
She smiled and nodded.
"Yes… I'm Minnie. What's your name?"
He looked a little startled at her friendly tone, and then smiled back a little.
"Mickey," he said, then cleared his throat. "Well, my friends all call me Mickey, but my full name's Michael. Michael Walter Mouse. Same last name, what do ya know?"
Minnie smiled and nodded as she finished cleaning the cut.
"Then I'll be sure to call you Mickey." She giggled when she saw him blush a little.
"G-gosh… uh, thanks, miss… er, M-Minnie." Then he looked back down and let out a heavy sigh. Minnie frowned sadly as she went for a bandage.
"I'm sorry. I saw what Mortimer did."
The mouse shook his head.
"Nah, it's my fault," he muttered. "I shouldn't have said that."
Minnie gave him a gentle smile as she began bandaging his hand.
"It served him right. He doesn't deserve respect."
Mickey sighed again.
"Well, someone in my position can't afford to pick favorites."
Suddenly unable to look at his sad face, Minnie bit her lip and looked down.
"Listen, I heard you say that someone needed the money."
Mickey gave her an uneasy glance, and then slumped.
"It's just… there's an old friend of mine, and… his wife's expecting, but… well, she got sick, and…" He sighed and shook his head.
"I almost had enough," he said in a dull tone.
Minnie gazed at him, feeling deeply sorry for him.
"Mickey, I'm so sorry."
She finished wrapping the bandage and gently patted his hand.
"Well, this doesn't look too bad. You'll have to take it easy for a while, but..." Mickey shook his head, glaring down at the bandage.
"Well, no one's gonna hire someone who can't use a hand." He sighed again. "I really screwed up."
Minnie found herself wanting to do whatever she could to help.
"How much do you need?"
Mickey shifted.
"A hundred. But I don't know how I'm gonna find more work in time… 'specially with this hand." Minnie stared at him, wondering how hard he must've already worked to raise so much. At that, she knew she had to help him.
"Well," she finally managed to say. "Maybe I can help you."
Mickey looked at her, and she could see slight suspicion in his eyes. She couldn't blame him; she knew that not many upper class elites gave freely without expecting something back.
"How? I'd never be able t' pay ya back anytime soon, so I can't just take money from ya."
"From what I have in mind, you won't have to," Minnie replied, smiling. "Do you have any experience in gardening?" He cocked his head, looking slightly confused.
"Uh, some."
Minnie smiled eagerly.
"Well, ours just retired, so I can give you what you need, and you could make up for it by working here!"
Mickey stared at her in surprise.
"G-gosh, Minnie, that'd be great, but…" He glanced down at his injured hand, and Minnie gently placed her own hand on it.
"You won't have to do much right away," she reassured. "Look, just wait here for a while and I'll talk to my father. Trust me, he'll understand."
Her heart skipped a beat when Mickey's eyes lit up and he impulsively clasped her hand.
"Thanks so much, Minnie! You're not gonna regret it, I swear!"
Then his face turned red and he quickly released her hand.
"Er, s-sorry…"
Minnie felt her own face flaming as she rubbed her suddenly tingling hand.
"It-it's all right. I'll, uh, go find Father and be right back."
With that, she hurried back out, wondering why her heart wouldn't stop pounding.
