Isabella tossed the car keys of grandpa Fletcher's old, renovated convertible across the hallway to Ferb who had just come out of his room.
The two were going on a simple errand with Beckham for a few groceries the boys' grandmother forgot, nothing more, and Isabella figured Ferb should be the one to drive, since he was the eldest and from around here, after all.
He should be able to handle it, right?
Ferb effortlessly caught the keys and quirked a brow, giving her a pointed look; you want me to drive?
"Yeah," Isabella replied airily. "why not?" She giggled as she grabbed her white purse from the carpet, where it had been deposited earlier, and setting the strap over her shoulder.
Ferb merely sighed in defeat before motioning his hand towards the stairs in an after you gesture before following his girlfriend down the creaky, carpeted stairway.
Grandma and grandpa Fletcher's house was quite old fashioned, with a thatch roof, and jagged, stone walls.
On the outside it was rather rough looking, but inside it was nicely furnished and was warmed by the large fireplace at one end of the house, and the old kitchen stove at the other.
Nice and toasty in the cold evenings during the fall and winter.
"Phineas isn't coming?" Isabella asked when the two came to the front door to wait for Ferb's cousin, who was being painfully pokey and slow.
Ferb smirked impishly as he grabbed his light brown, spring jacket.
"And miss his only opportunity to invent today?" Ferb asked as he threw it over his shoulders and slipped his arms through the sleeves. "Of course he isn't coming." He finished as he took Isabella's jacket down from the coat rack and held it out for her so she could slip it on.
After the two were ready to go and Isabella had called for Beckham a time or two they both stood at the front door waiting impatiently.
They could easily leave without him, but the cousin insisted on coming along so he could get his favorite snack foods which, apparently, had to be picked out by him and only him, just to make sure the correct ones were bought.
Heaven forbid someone get honey granola bars instead of cinnamon.
It was silly really, but there was no use in convincing Beckham that they would make sure to get the correct snack foods.
"Maybe you should call him this time," Isabella suggested as she crossed her arms and leaned against the wall next to the front door.
It had been 15 minutes and they needed to have already been at the store.
Ferb silently raised an eyebrow; why me?
"Think about it, Ferb." Isabella's said mischievously. "His usually silent cousin yelling at him to get his butt down here asap..." She didn't need to finish the sentence for Ferb to know what she meant.
He sighed before clearing his throat and turning towards the stairs.
"Beckham!" Ferb barked, sounding surprisingly harsh. "Get your arse down here or we'll be leaving without you!" He called.
Suddenly, there was a loud thump from above their heads before a bedroom door quickly squeaked opened and Beckham came flying down the stairs and jumping the last step so that he landed on the hard wood floor, in socks mind you, and slipped so he landed right on his butt, his blonde bangs flopping over his eyes.
Isabella held back a very unladylike snort and shot Ferb a smug look before turning and heading outside into the chilly spring air.
As Beckham stood and brushed himself off, Ferb smirked and raised an eyebrow; ready?