Wendip Week 2023

2-Start Spreading the News

Manly Dan Corduroy was a tough guy. When he built the log house that would in later years become the Mystery Shack, Dan—then quite young—had unloaded each and every log from the truck by himself, unassisted, and had hewed them to fit with a double-bladed axe, and had done all the exterior walls in just two and a half days, and then he still had enough left to win a bowling tournament the last evening, though to be sure he had received a stern warning from the bowling-alley owner because two of his balls had not only scored strikes, but had shattered five pins to splinters and had embedded themselves in the back wall behind the alley.

This one time he and the boys had been out fishing, using Dan's system of grabbing a lake trout right out of the water and pummeling it to death. Hi grandmother, who had grown up in the Deep South, had taught him that and the art of sniggling. Anyway, that time on the lake, the fish had suddenly started to fight back, leaping up and dropping out of the sky to get their revenge, and Dan had manfully led his sons in the retreat to the shore.

And Dan had weathered his share of shocks to the system. Once in an ice storm a tree had broken the electric wires leading to his daddy's cabin, and Dan had picked up the sparking, sizzling wires and bare-handed had spliced them back together. His Dad had mildly scolded him for that because he didn't wrap the splice in electrical tape. "Gotta be neat, ya know, Danny," his Dad said.

Once much to his surprise and annoyance, a tree had fallen on him when he was on the job, breaking his leg. An impatient Dan had shoved the offending tree trunk off him, then got up and on a badly fractured leg had walked four miles through the woods to the road, had flagged down a passing car driven by Tyler Cutebiker, and when Cutebiker had fainted at the sight of his floppy leg, Dan had shoved him over, got behind the steering wheel himself—after ripping out the driver's seat because it was a compact and he couldn't fit—and drove himself to the hospital, where he finally had his leg treated and afterward had to endure physical rehab.

He had survived Wendy's weddings—both the civil and later the religious service. He had even worked up the guts to ask Ruby, a former Marine, to marry him. More, he had so far survived the marriage and was delighted when Ruby's bellowed orders to his sons outmatched even his in force and volume.

"But," Dipper asked on a nippy mid-October Saturday morning, "how do you think he'll take this?"

"Oh, he's gonna be happy if he doesn't have an aneurysm or some biz when we tell him," Wendy said. "He's always talking about grandkids."

Dipper took her hand. –How are you this morning? Still nauseated?

Just morning sickness, Dip. Once we get out and start moving, it'll go away.

-Think you could deal with some brunch later on?

We'll see. Hey, man, don't worry. Everybody has this when they're pregnant. Only most husbands don't!

-Well, you know when we touch, I feel what you feel.

Love you man. It actually helps me some to share the queasiness. Like, cuts it in half. Anyhow, by about ten I think I'll be OK. Wish I could have a cup of coffee, though.

-No coffee, but I bought a bunch of herbal teas. Peppermint's good.

I'll go make a cup—

"No, you lie down for a while longer," Dipper said, letting go of her hand and getting out of bed. "I'll brew it right up and bring it to you. Sugar or honey?"

"Mm, surprise me," Wendy said. She wasn't showing yet, not a hint of a baby bump, but she looked a little bustier to Dipper, and, if he was not fooling himself, she had a kind of glow now. Not a blush, exactly, just a kind of, well, glow.

Otherwise, nothing had changed. Wendy went to her office every day, Monday through Friday, with occasional days off in the week so she could deal with some weekend official business. Despite her bouts of nausea, she had never gone to work late. Dr. Greenberg estimated her due date as May 15, stressing that it might be earlier or later. "It's especially hard to tell with twins," she cautioned.

And yes, she had confirmed that Wendy was having twins after the first ultrasound. To Dipper, it looked like a grainy black-and-white photo of two little white tadpoles against a dark round background. What Dr. Greenberg could not tell was whether they were identical or fraternal. If the former, the set would be two boys or two girls. If the latter, it could be that, or it could be one of each.

The evening before, after work, they had driven up to visit Aunt Sallie, who had held both of Wendy's hands and gazed into her eyes. They both had the deepest, emerald eyes. Then, briskly, Sallie said, "Boy and a girl, both of 'em red-headed. I don't need an ultrasound to tell me that. And one of them's gonna be a handful—not mean, just free-spirited. The other's gonna be quiet and serious, but they'll make you both happy. You told Danny yet?"

Dipper blurted, "Is the free-spirited one going to be the girl? Because Mabel—"

Sallie said sternly, "You ask a lot of an old woman's Second Sight, sonny!" When Dipper looked both startled and apologetic, she chuckled. "Just teasing you, Dipper. I can't tell that yet. But they're healthy, and so's Wendy, and that's the important thing. Does Danny know?"

"Not yet," Wendy said. "Dipper and I are going to see him and Ruby tomorrow, though." She smiled. "We'll break it gently."

"Are you keeping breakfast down?" Sallie asked.

"Not so much," Wendy said. "It gets better during the day, though."

"Thought so. I've made some peppermint drops and some ginger chews for you. Try one of them when you first wake up, mint's better for some, ginger for others. Keep dry crackers handy to settle your stomach. No spicy food or anything fried in grease. Herb tea or just cold water all day long."

"That's pretty much what our obstetrician said," Dipper told her.

Sallie nodded. "You got a good one, then. Man or woman?"

"Woman," Wendy said. "Dr. Greenberg. She's had three children herself."

"Good, better than a man who hasn't been through it. Well, now, I have a nice dinner ready for you, so let's sit down and eat."

Here it was the next day. On the way to the Corduroy house, Wendy said, "You really want to go down to Piedmont this afternoon?"

"Once we tell Dan, everyone in Gravity Falls will know," Dipper said. "I talked to Deputy Director Hazard, and she has free time to fly us down this afternoon and back tomorrow."

"Did you tell Ford—"

"Not yet," Dipper said. "But I think Amy Hazard guessed. She's in and out a lot, and since I'm also in and out a lot as Ford's clerk, we talk from time to time. I just said we had something to talk to my folks about, and she immediately said she's still accumulating flying time and offered, so . . .." He shrugged. "The Agency pays for her time, and she says she'll be happy to spend some time in San Francisco, plus log pilot time in their new 550. Nervous about flying?"

"I love flying!" Wendy shrugged and added, "And she's one hell of a pilot. Your folks expecting us?"

"Late this afternoon," he said. "I just told them I had some business in San Francisco, so I'd come visit for one night. We'll probably see Billy, too—he's in high school now."

"I'll look forward to it." Wendy parked in the Corduroy yard. "Well, take a deep breath. Here we go."

The Corduroy cabin was unusually quiet. Wendy's older brother Junior had married and settled down, finally, and the two twin boys, now teens, were off with girlfriends at the Arcade or wherever. Ruby, a strongly-built woman who looked as if she could be incredibly mean but who was really quite nice, welcomed them in, and Dan came in from the back yard, took off his gloves, and washed his hands before greeting them. "Been out at the choppin' block, layin' in firewood," he explained. "Need a cord or two?"

"That would be nice," Wendy said. "Not a whole lot, but some. Maybe a long cord?"

"I'll haul over a mixed load," Dan said, grinning. "Reasonable amount of pine kindlin', plus some oak, even got some sweet apple for the aroma, and a little bit of hickory. Get you right through a hard winter if need be. Ruby, have you offered 'em coffee?"

"Would you like anything?" Ruby asked. "I made a walnut cake and there's plenty left if you'd like."

Dipper glanced at Wendy, who shook her head. "Nothing right now, thanks. Dad, we came over because there's something you've always wanted."

Dan's eyes lit up. "You got me a Chopham X-90 Industrial Log Splitter? Honey, they cost—"

"Not that," Wendy said. She reached across the coffee table and too her Dad's big hand in her own. "Listen, Dipper and I have some really good news. He's going to be just like you—a dad."

"Huh?" Dan asked, looking a bit as if a big branch had fallen on his head. "What? He is?"

"Oh, that's so wonderful!" Ruby exclaimed, coming around to hug Wendy "When did you find out?"

"Wait a minute," Dan said with a puzzled frown. "If he's gonna be a dad—"

"I'm going to be a mother," Wendy said. "Dad, Dipper and I—we're pregnant."

For half a mile in every direction, the squirrels fell stunned from the trees and woodpeckers, finches, scaups, and even some hawks took to the air and flew frantically away from the sound.

"Anything I can do!" Dan yelled a moment later. "Anything at all! Ruby, we're gonna have grandbaby! I'm gonna build him or her a house! Oh, my God! I'm so happy!" He was weeping, a weakness of his at moments of joy. "Wendy, Dipper, is there's anything I can do, just tell me!"

"One thing," Dipper managed to gasp. "Please—don't hug us so tight!"

One family down, another to go.