#clara cluck

chapter thirty-eight: i’m drifting from the crescent
summary:Goldie begins a new chapter in her life.
warnings: references to sex, nothing explicit
wordcount: 3151
playlist (will be updated as chapters are posted):shorturl.at/bfBCQ
ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33776632/chapters/98557176
site link: https://sites.google.com/view/running-in-circles/chapters/chapter38

here’s chapter thirty-eight!! text will also be included in this post for those of you that don’t use ao3:

2002; Dawson & Duckburg:

The turn of the century should’ve been more interesting than it was. Nothing exploded, computers didn’t break, the world didn’t end.

(Well, there was an issue regarding the fate of the world that needed to be resolved, but Goldie just sat back and let Scrooge take care of it. Why call yourself the strongest, smartest, and sharpest if you don’t put it to the test every once in a while?)

Though mostly not on purpose, Goldie did see Scrooge every year or two. She wanted to see him more - she wanted to break into his home and spend time with him and go on adventures with him. But he always had family with him these days. Donald and Della had finished high school and moved in with their uncle permanently - taking away all of Goldie’s opportunities to spend alone time with him.

She didn’t hate children. She didn’t hate Donald or Della. She even started calling them Donnie and Flygirl - though it was less affectionate and more trying to convince them that she didn’t remember their names. She just didn’t want to deal with them. Seeing Scrooge with family reminded her of what she never wanted and could never have with him and it made her feel stupid and pathetic. It made her feel like somehow everything she’d done in her life wasn’t enough, and that was insane. She was exceptionally wealthy and founded one of the biggest hotel franchises in the world, yet here she was whining that she’d never gotten the happy ever after with Scrooge that she knew wasn’t a real option anyway. Their relationship was just too…too much.

Children were needy. They were fragile and emotional and they needed attention and help and they needed people who stuck around and treated them well and gave them hugs and kisses. Goldie knew, especially after how she treated the Dawson orphans, that she just wasn’t capable of that kind of relationship. She was physically affectionate only in ways she wanted to be and she fled when things got hard or complicated or weird and she was single-minded at times, focusing on gold or Scrooge when there were other more important things going on.

On a particularly warm day in July of 2002, Goldie was struck with a reminder of the orphans. The orphans who she hadn’t thought about much at all since they’d died.

Most of them had grown up to have families of their own. Some stayed in Dawson, others traveled the country or the world, but they all created new opportunities for themselves and took charge of their lives. When they first appeared in her life, small and scared and begging for scraps, Goldie had no expectations. She was glad they made better lives for themselves.

Even Dawsie, the one who stole from her and ran. Goldie could never be mad about that, since it’s exactly what she would’ve done at that age.

The other orphans kept track of each other, but Dawsie was different. She didn’t send letters. She didn’t try to find anyone to help her. Whatever she’d done with the stolen money must’ve been enough to settle into a new life. Or maybe it was her first theft in a long line of thefts that led to her being imprisoned. Goldie assumed there was no way to know.

Until that phone call.

Goldie had been sitting at the bar of her Dawson Blackjack - the very same bar that she kept coming back to over and over again over the last hundred years - when her cell phone rang. She recognized the number as one she’d been ignoring for a few days, but finally decided to answer. She was prepared for something weird.

“Hello?”

“Is this Miss Goldie O’Gilt and/or a direct descendant of Miss Goldie O’Gilt?

Goldie frowned. “Depends who’s asking.”

“I’ll take that as a yes. Are you familiar with the name Denise Duck?”

“I am not. What’s this about?”

“You were named in her last will and testament. Are you sure you don’t know her? Daughter of Diana Anders, granddaughter of Daniel Yetta?”

Goldie’s eyes widened, though none of the names sounded any more familiar than the first one. “I-…I thought I was sure. Help an old lady out here. What’s going on?”

The woman on the phone sighed. “My name is Clara Cluck, I’m the executor of Miss Duck’s will. She died unexpectedly a few weeks ago and her will states that her daughter will be left in your care.”

“…”

“…Miss O’Gilt and/or Miss O’Gilt’s direct descendant?”

“…I’m confused. What is happening?”

“Are you still located at the Blackjack Saloon and Hotel in Dawson City, Yukon Territory?”

“Um…yes, but-”

“Alright, just wait a few minutes, then.”

She hung up the phone and Goldie was left with a million questions and no answers. What was she talking about? Who the hell was she talking about? Who would leave a child in the care of Goldie O’Gilt?! Not just because there was no other option, but…as a preference? Had she accidentally stepped into an alternate universe again?

She finished drinking her seltzer and stood up, wondering if the lawyer was going to call her back. She said to ‘wait a few minutes.’ For what?

The doorbell to the hotel rang, and Goldie realized she probably had her answer. Though an employee was at the front desk, she rushed over from the saloon so she could see what was going on and figure out if this was some kind of trap. Maybe it was a trick sent by Magica De Spell (or some other magical enemy) to confuse her. Maybe an undercover spy, sent by S.H.U.S.H. or MI6 to find some of the artifacts she’d stolen over the years.

What Goldie found in her front lobby, however, was an unhappy-looking woman and an even unhappier-looking child.

“…can I help you?” Goldie asked, taking over for her employee who was clearly playing Solitaire at his desk.

The woman nodded and stuck out her hand. “I’m Clara Cluck. We spoke on the phone a few minutes ago.”

Goldie shook her hand on reflex, though she wasn’t feeling particularly polite at that moment. “And the kid?”

Clara stepped back and patted the child’s back, who was nervously holding onto the tall woman’s leg. “This is, uh…Dickie Duck.”

Goldie raised an eyebrow, curious about the odd, boyish name. “What does this kid have to do with me, exactly?”

“Dickie’s sole parent was Denise Duck, who I’m sure you heard recently passed.”

“I have no idea who that is.”

Clara looked surprised, then took out a notebook and flipped through it. “Oh, my apologies. Denise Duck was the great-grandchild of Dawsie Yetta.”

Goldie’s eyes widened. She hadn’t thought about that name in over fifty years. “I…I do remember a Dawsie. But I don’t understand. She died decades ago!”

“Yes, but…it seems that she told her children and her children’s children to entrust their most precious things with…you.”

The room went silent besides an awkward cough from Goldie’s employee behind the counter. Goldie’s face flushed a bit, Clara was looking through her notes, and poor little Dickie looked scared and confused.

Goldie was flattered, but she never would’ve thought Dawsie felt that way about her. She wouldn’t have thought any of those orphans thought of her in such a positive way.

“I…don’t really know what to say. I didn’t even know Dawsie reproduced, and now you’re, what? Dropping her great great granddaughter off with a complete stranger?”

Clara rolled her eyes. “Obviously I did a background check before coming here and made sure Dixie, er…Dickie was comfortable with it, first. But no, I won’t leave her here without your consent.”

Goldie stared down at the kid, who was focusing her sights on some bug rolling around on the floor. She had a mop of messy blonde hair that reminded Goldie of herself. She didn’t look much like how she remembered Dawsie, but four generations apart was a lot.

She crouched down to the kid’s level to get her attention. “What kind of name is Dickie for a little girl?”

Dickie pouted, tugging on the edge of her shirt. “I like…Dickie Moore.”

Goldie blinked rapidly. “The, uh…actor? Really?”

“My mom…before she died, um…” Dickie took a deep breath. “She had this big tape of Dickie Moore movies. And she really liked him. That’s why she named me Dixie!”

“But you prefer Dickie, huh?”

“Y-yeah…I hope that’s okay.”

Goldie smirked sadly. It was impressive to her that such a small child was able to talk about her dead mom without shedding a tear. Goldie didn’t know much about loving mothers, but she imagined losing one would be quite the shock. Especially for a kid so young. “So how old are you?”

Dickie looked up at Clara that time, getting only a shrug in response. “I'm…I’m three and a half.”

Goldie stood up, glancing at the lawyer cautiously. “I…I can take her in. If there’s really no one else, I mean.”

Clara shook her head. “The whole family’s dead. Every cousin, aunt, uncle, parent, and grandparent died within the last ten years.”

“That’s awful.”

“We’re lucky Denise had her will prepared ahead of time or poor Dickie here would’ve been thrown into the foster care system!”

Goldie and Dickie locked eyes as Clara chuckled to herself, neither of them finding the concept particularly funny.

Goldie held out a hand towards the kid. “Nice to meet you, kiddo.”

Dickie stared for a moment and then used her tiny little hand to grab two of Goldie’s fingers. “…thank you,” she mumbled quietly, a light blush on her cheeks.

—

Scrooge had gotten used to having kids around.

Though they were technically adults now, they’d always be kids to him. And he really, really loved them. They were the apples of his eye - Donald with his passion for music and puzzles and independence, Della with her love of flying and adventure and taking down villains…over the years, the three of them had become a treasure hunting team.

Scrooge had been worried that when they left for college, he’d get terribly lonely without them. But someone was smiling down when Della and Donald both decided to enroll in Duckburg University. Scrooge paid for Della’s education (technically it was free, since he owned the land the university was on), but Donald rejected his money and earned his way with a Navy ROTC scholarship instead. Scrooge couldn’t have been prouder of the two of them, even if Della seemed to party more than she studied.

He never had any formal education, so Scrooge didn’t want her to waste it. But she was also an exceptional pilot, and that was obviously the career she wanted for herself, so he didn’t mind. Della deserved a normal young college experience, just as Donald did.

Sometimes Scrooge wondered what that would’ve been like for him. Though he never would’ve gotten into a fancy London university, he would’ve thrived at the University of Glasgow or St. Andrew’s. Though then he might not’ve come to America. He never would’ve met Goldie or moved to Calisota. Then Hortense never would’ve met her husband and then Donald and Della never would’ve existed.

He sighed and sat down in his office chair at the Money Bin, nothing much to do with the kids both at school. With Bradford Buzzard taking care of his finances, Scrooge had very few worries when it came to his business. He could sit back and think for hours and hours. He could watch television if he wanted to - which he did not, but it was nice to have the option.

Over the years, he’d spent countless hours daydreaming about the life he could’ve had with Goldie. If he’d actually gotten the chance to propose one hundred years ago like he wanted to, what if she’d said yes? They could’ve had kids and by now their kids would’ve had kids and maybe even another set of kids after that.

It would’ve been great. But it wasn’t them.

Scrooge fumbled around in his desk for a minute before pulling out a photograph - it was a photo of him and Goldie in Hawaii during their second fake wedding. She looked so beautiful he could hardly stand it, which was why he kept the photo in his desk. Sometimes he needed a pick-me-up.

Their two fake marriages (plus one sort-of marriage in another dimension that didn’t count) were a bit of a sore subject for him. He wanted to marry her and though it happened, it never happened for the right reasons. Which wasn’t entirely her fault or entirely his fault, it was just the way it was.

He put the photo away just as there was a knock on his door. “What is it?”

The door opened and a familiar face peeked into his office. “Hi Uncle Scrooge!”

Scrooge smiled brightly. “Della, dear! What’re ye doin’ here? Classes over already?”

Della came into the room, leaving the door open behind her. “Ehhh, sort of! For me, anyway. I just wanted to give you a heads up!”

“About what?” he asked nervously.

“Donald and his band buddies got booked for their first gig!”

“…uh-huh…?”

“So, they’ll, like…be practicing even more than usual?”

“Ack!” Scrooge groaned, surprised he didn’t realize her meaning right away. “I can already feel the headache comin’ on!”

Della laughed and patted her hands on the edge of his desk. “Sooo anything cool going on? I hear there’s a lost treasure down in Argentina we could go after!”

“Argentina? What treasure is this?”

She pouted and shrugged. “I don’t know, I just figured if I named a country you would already know about something going on!”

Scrooge laughed and rolled his eyes. “Ye should get back to class, Della. We can plan a trip for next weekend, instead.”

“Alright, alright,” Della mumbled, shoving her hands into her pockets. “But I swear I will never need to know this much about gravity. I thought I was taking Astrology, not Astronomy!”

He shook his head. “Ye never know what could come in handy one day!”

—

“So, uh…what happened to your mom?”

Dickie was sitting on the check-in counter while Goldie leaned against it, waiting for Clara to come back with some paperwork.

“She got really sick ‘n then she died.”

“Damn. Sorry about that.”

She shrugged, swinging her legs back and forth. “It’s okay.”

“You seem to be taking it well.”

“Well…mom told me I wasn’t allowed to be sad about it. ‘Cause being sad is lame. So I’m trying not to be.”

Goldie frowned. “You can’t control how you feel, kid.” She paused for a second, then shrugged. “But she was right. Being sad sucks.”

Dickie chuckled for a second and then locked her fingers in her lap, staring down at her hands. “So how did you know my mom?”

“Ah…well…” Goldie tapped her fingers against the desk. “I didn’t, really. I knew your mom’s great-grandmother.”

Dickie stared at her. “Wow, you’re really old!”

“I guess I am.”

“Were you and her friends?”

Goldie’s finger landed on a splinter and she started to pick at it. “No. I was…I guess I helped her out when she was a kid. Needed a place to go.”

“And now you’re helping me?”

Goldie looked down at the kid’s face, once again entranced by the bright yellow of her blonde hair. It made her want to go blonde again - she missed the familiar golden glow in her mirror. “I…” She glanced towards the door and saw Clara coming back into the hotel. “I’ll see what I can do.”

—

As Dickie fell asleep that night, tucked into Goldie’s comically large bed, Goldie stood at the door for a few moments and just…stared at her.

It sounded like Dawsie had lived a good life. She ran away with all that money, found a man, had some kids, those kids had kids. Whether or not she was happy, Goldie would probably never know, but at least Goldie knew one of the orphans she took in wasn’t completely screwed up. She was apparently so grateful that she passed on the ‘kindness’ of Glittering Goldie to her grandkids. Who could’ve seen that coming?

Dickie snorted loudly and rolled over in her sleep, bringing a small smile to Goldie’s face.

She hadn’t been good to those orphans, she knew that. Even if Dawsie looked back on her fondly, she could’ve done better. She could’ve told Scrooge about them and gotten him to help, like he once suggested. But she didn’t want that. She hadn’t even wanted the kids to begin with.

She hadn’t wanted kids at all since she was very young. They were needy and fragile and didn’t pay rent and she’d never been prepared to deal with that.

But somehow she didn’t feel so negatively about Dickie. Goldie felt like she was dropped into her lap at just the right time. She’d been lonely and thinking about Scrooge and his family and how much they’d changed him and how maybe that change wasn’t the worst thing in the world. He was still hard and adventurous, but gentler. Maybe even a little nicer.

Goldie could stand to be a little nicer sometimes. It wasn’t how she was raised or how she came to know the world, but she’d like it if Dickie could grow up in a nice environment. Grow up feeling loved and validated and comfortable. That was the point of going through hardships and making money, right? Being able to help the next (-next-next-next) generation have it easier?

“…Miss Goldie…?”

Goldie’s eyes widened when she realized Dickie was awake and staring right at her, feeling awkward that she was caught in such an odd position. She’d never watched a child sleep before, after all. It was a bit creepy.

“Yeah, what’s up, kiddo?”

Dickie opened her mouth to speak, but it turned into a yawn, and Goldie realized she probably wasn’t as awake as she looked.

“Can I call you Granny?”

Goldie frowned. Scrooge got to be ‘uncle’ but she was already promoted to ‘grandmother’. That was her own fault for staying silver for so long. But as much as she wanted to…she didn’t hate it. She really wanted to hate it. She’d probably hate it later, when the situation wasn’t so weird and emotional.

“…sure.”

How could she say no to a kid who’s mom just died?

Dickie smiled and snuggled into the blanket again. “G’night, Granny!”

It sounded wrong. It sounded alright. Not terrible. But wrong. Very, very wrong. She wasn’t a mother, how could she be a grandmother? That wasn’t how that was supposed to work. She shouldn’t have been asked to take in a kid. 

She shouldn’t have such complicated feelings about it.

Goldie walked out the room and closed the door quietly behind her. She just needed to get some sleep.

—

—

REAL HISTORY:
- Dickie Moore is a child actor from the 30s and 40s. He played a lot of characters named Dickie and was just in a whole lot of things when he was young so fine it’s a stretch but Dickie Duck needed some name inspiration!
- If you’re not familiar with ROTC, it’s a college scholarship program that provides tuition in exchange for military service. I think it’s just American but idk I was not involved in it myself

DUCK FRANCHISE REFERENCES:
- ‘Fate of world’ is probably referring to Jormungandr, I don’t actually remember what I specifically had in mind lol
- Clara Cluck is one of Daisy’s friends in comics and shows. She’s not usually a lawyer or will executor or social worker but I like the idea of her as a social worker so I’m using it. I’m imagining her a bit older than Daisy, who’s a bit older than Donald, so she’s like…30-ish.
- Dickie Duck!!! Goldie’s granddaughter from the comics. Highly requested character that I wasn’t sure if I’d include, but I decided to bring her in 'cause she’s my darling angel. Here’s a timeline of Dawsie -> Dickie:

>1898: Dawsie Yetta born
>1914: Daniel Yetta born
>1942: Diana (Yetta) Anders born
>1976: Denise (Anders) Duck born
>1998: Dixie Duck born

- Scrooge (in the comics) can often be seen just looking at photos of Goldie like a little weirdo
- Donald and his band is obviously referring to the Three Caballeros
- Goldie’s outfit colors in the artwork for this chapter are inspired by her outfit in the Don Rosa comic Last Sled To Dawson