October 22nd, 1994

Puberty. Sweet Moses, Stan had not considered exactly what puberty would entail for Nicola. Namely, that he'd started to look a lot more like the face that had disappeared behind the bedroom curtains, the man who had fallen through the metal monstrosity in the basement.

He'd been prepared for the inevitable awkward lectures, had even dragged the McGucket kid into it to spare him the embarrassment of getting "The Talk" from his mom. And yet, here he was, sitting across from the boy he'd raised for six years, failing to string together a single sentence because the kid had developed a small cleft in his chin.

But it wasn't just a cleft, was it? It was the cleft, one of the sure-fire traits that had differentiated him and Ford as they got older. The first thing that had made it so people stopped looking at their hands to tell them apart. It was something that had always, always been distinctly Ford. And now it wasn't.

Thankfully, Nicola seemed unaware of Stan's inner turmoil, blabbering on about Halloween costumes.

"So, then Tate suggested the Three musketeers, but Cilla said there was no way she'd dress as a guy, so that went out the window. Then Cilla suggested doing a time period instead of a book, which gave me the idea to suggest Grease, and that seemed to work with everybody. But then-"

Nicola wasn't Ford, Stan knew that, but there was some part of him that he feared would never stop seeing his twin instead of his son. And it could only get worse from this point. What about when Nicola reached his rebellious teenage phase? Stan wasn't sure he'd be able to make it through an argument without reliving his last night in the pawn shop.

A six-fingered hand was waving in front of his face.

"Dad? Are you listening?"

Stan forced his posture to relax. "Sorry Nicky, got a bit lost in my thoughts. What were you saying?"

"Tate and I need a ride to the Superstore to look for costume pieces."

"Rich girl can't take you?"

"The Northwests don't like her sharing their limo."

"Clear your place, I'll start the car."

Based on Nicola's ramblings, Stan had assumed choosing their costumes would be the most difficult part of this outing. He was wrong.

"That's eggshell white, not porcelain white!"

"They look exactly the same!"

"They do not! Eggshell has a warmer hue; it will clash with your jacket!"

"They're the same Cilla."

"That's like saying Sea Foam Green and Lake Foam Green are the same!"

"Aren't they?"

"Of course not!"

Stan resisted the urge to groan. Some variation of this argument had occurred with just about every piece of clothing picked out by anyone other than Rich Girl. Apparently, thanks to her "artistic experience", she could distinguish between over one thousand distinct colors. It showed.

Based on Nicola's exasperated expression, he was just as sick of it as Stan was. He turned to where Tate was quietly observing next to Stan.

Holding up two white T-Shirts Nicola asked. "Don't they look the same?"

Tate shook his head. "I'm not crazy enough to get involved in this."

Nicola turned to Stan. "Dad?"

"There are times in every man's life where he has to pretend a woman's right despite disagreeing. This is small enough that it's probably one of those times."

Rich Girl snatched one of the shirts from Nicola's hands. "Fine, don't take my advice. Just don't come crying to me when you're ridiculed at the costume ball for it."

"Wait, I see it now! Eggshell would clash! Give me back the Porcelain!"

"Don't go into theatre Pines, your acting is terrible."

As the two disappeared around the corner of the aisle, Tate nudged the older man's side. "Five bucks says she gives him the silent treatment until we check out."

Stan grinned down at the boy. "Ten says she only lasts until he picks out shoes."

October 24th, 1994

The slamming of the door jerked Stan out of counting the day's profits. Moments later Nicola appeared in the doorway.

"Where does my name come from?" he asked, a slight quiver in his voice.

Stan raised an eyebrow at the out-of-nowhere question. "Well, your first name comes from Tesla 'cause my br- your mother liked him. Your middle name is one that's special to me."

The boy edged closer. "And how do you spell Tesla's name?"

"Same as yours."

"You're sure?"

Stan shrugged. "I dunno, I was never into the guy, so I didn't really pay attention. Why are you askin'?"

Nicola slumped onto the spare chair by the desk. "Our substitute said Nicola with a C is the girl's version, and Nikola with a K is the guy's. He thought it was funny that I have a girl's name. And now that he's said it, the rest of the class is never going to let it go."

"He thought it was funny? Exactly how old is this substitute? Five?"

Now it was Nicola's turn to shrug. "I really should be used to it by now, it's just… the stuff about my fingers doesn't really bother me anymore because I've heard it so much it's lost meaning. This is something new. I haven't had time to get used to it."

"I'd like to have words with this new substitute of yours, do you remember his name?"

"Mr. Richardson."

"Well, if you ever have him again, I highly recommend informing the class that his name can be shortened to Dick."

Nicola snorted. "I'll keep that in mind."

Stan pushed himself away from the desk. "You know, I just remembered that I left a bag of jellybeans in the kitchen cupboard. I don't suppose they'd interest you?"

"Do hagfish produce mucus?"

"I'd prefer your answer in English, not McGucket."

"Yes."

"Then what are we waiting for?"

October 30th, 1994

Nicola sat still as Stan carefully combed his hair into a slicked-back style to complete his T-Bird costume. Or at least, he sat as still as he could manage with how excited he was. It seemed Rich Girl finally convinced her hosts to include the boys in the big costume ball the Northwests threw every year.

"Have you ever been to a ball?" Nicola asked.

"Can't say I have," Stan replied. "You nervous?"

"A little. The Northwests are kinda mean."

"But you're goin' for Rich Girl."

"It's the only way Tate and I can hang out with Cilla for Halloween. So, I know at least that part of the ball will be fun. Plus, the costumes should be pretty cool."

Stan combed the last rouge lock of hair into place, grabbing the cheap hand mirror he usually kept in the gift shop. "Whaddya think?"

Nicola poked at his heavily gelled hair. "Just right."

The sound of a horn drew the pre-teen's attention to the window where a familiar yellow car pulled up outside, a boy in a jacket matching his hanging out the window.

"Tate!" Nicola exclaimed as he threw open the door.

"What on earth have you done to your hair?" The older boy said with an amused look.

"This was considered good looking in the 50s."

"It looks plastic."

"Well, what did you do to add to your costume?"

"I learned to hand jive."

"Teach me in the car?"

Stan watched the exchange from the doorway, waving lazily at Em as she stepped out from the front of the car holding a camera.

"Alright boys," She called. "Mandatory photo shoot before we head out. Now smile!"

By the time they got in the car, both boys were too busy blinking away the afterimage of a million flashes to do any hand jive lessons.

August 21st, 1994

Stan stood at the stove, doing his best to follow the French Toast recipe Em had recommended as the shack's smaller resident made his way downstairs.

"Excited for your first day of high school kiddo?"

There was no response. Stan peered over his shoulder to where Nicola had sat at the table.

"Everything alright Nicky?"

Nicola looked up at him with an expression of deep thought. "Do people normally get engaged in high school?"

Stan flipped one of the bread slices a little faster than was necessary. "I knew a few people who got engaged Senior year when I was in school, but I don't think it's as common now. Why? You got someone you're eyein' up?"

Nicola sputtered. "No. Definitely not. Absolutely no. Cilla's engaged. Preston proposed yesterday. She called to tell me and Tate."

Stan frowned. "She's in your grade, right?"

"Yeah."

"And Preston's already graduated?"

"Last year."

"Yeah, that's definitely not common. Are there any… extenuating circumstances?"

"She's not pregnant if that's what you're asking."

The kitchen settled into an awkward silence.

Stan moved the toast from the pan to a plate. "You brought this up for a reason, so what's eatin' ya?"

Nicola traced the whirls of the wooden table. "I don't know. I just, engagements and marriage are adult things. I didn't think I'd be dealing with them so soon. I don't feel old enough to have an engaged friend."

Stan placed the plate of toast on the table. "Other people live their lives in different ways. Sometimes that means doing things you don't agree with. Things you're not ready for. And when that happens, you've gotta remember what that person means to you. If Ri- if Priscilla is someone you care about, the best thing you can do is be there. Whether that's to cheer her on in good times or be ready to catch her if she falls. Take it from someone who's been there before."

"Even if it might be a bad idea?"

"I'm not saying you can't try to change her mind if she's making a mistake, but you've gotta know your limits. Sometimes people mess up, and that's their mistake to make. But in the end, you can't imagine how much it matters to know the people you care about haven't given up on you."

"Did you mess up Dad?"

Stan felt his face stretch into a broken smile. "Yeah, I've messed up. I've messed up big. But I'm fixing things. And hey, one of my mess-ups gave me you after all. And that's a pretty amazing thing if you ask me."

A beeping sound from his watch cut off any further conversation.

Stan shoved the plate at Nicola. "Looks like this toast is gonna have to be to-go if you don't wanna be late. Em should be by any minute to pick you up."

"Hey Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"I think you're amazing too."

So... I'm not happy with this chapter. I have rewritten and re-read it many times and come to the realization that I may never be happy with this chapter. I'm not sure why, I think at least some of it's because I've been feeling very drained for the past few months. So, if you think this chapter doesn't suck, I would really appreciate hearing about it.

Thank you for reading, next chapter has more actually interesting stuff planned.

(Changed a date for timeline consistency.)