Louie knew the words that were coming before his uncle even entered the houseboat. From some distance away on the dock, he assessed posture and began to relay the information to his brothers.

"He's ten minutes early, slumped posture, untucked shirt, carrying a box, not making eye contact with the world. Dewey, get his guitar, Huey, deploy the twenties, I'll untie the babysitter." Time seemed to slow down while the triplets hurried toward their duties. They couldn't have had more than 30 seconds to do it all but that was somehow enough time to get everything done and be back in the common area by the time Donald returned. When their uncle walked in he shook off his heavy sigh and smiled at his boys. Huey was reading his Junior Woodchuck guidebook, Dewey was coloring in their shared coloring book, and Louie was playing with his toy truck.

They shared a look and a thought between them, we'll make do.

Even Dewey, who hadn't picked up on all the clues Louie pointed out knew what was coming as Uncle Donald sunk down on the floor to join them. He crossed his legs and then uncrossed them, shifting to get comfortable, subconsciously stalling.

"Uncle Donald? Is everything okay?" Dewey asked, scooting closer to put a hand on Uncle Donald's arm. Donald inhaled sharply, staring down at the floor, trying to figure out how to answer that.

"Everything is fine, we'll be okay, but I do have something to tell you." Those words were on the tips of everyone's tongues, we'll make do. Louie and Huey shared a glance, they knew for sure what was coming. They were doing their best not to be upset. Huey was a terrible actor though, and his face had fallen at the familiar set up to their least favorite punchline.

"What happened?" Dewey asked, panicking a bit, not picking up on the cues to try to be as content and calm as possible despite the circumstances.

"It's nothing, well, it's something, but it will be okay." Donald's heart hurt from the number of times he'd disappointed his boys. He scanned their faces and only Louie seemed to be unafraid and unaffected. He didn't realize that that expression had taken a lot of practice on Louie's part.

"I lost my job, again... It'll be okay! I'll find a new one, soon I'm sure. But I'll have to put in a lot of time and hard work to get a new job. Until then money might be a little tight, but we'll make do. I'm sure there are some things we can cut back on..." The lights on the boat flickered, "like electricity..." The backup generator would kick in if the lights failed, but that didn't stop Dewey's face from scrunching up in fear. Donald quickly drew his boys into his arms, holding them close and rocking back and forth. Dewey and Huey leaned into him, soaking up the hug. Louie was a little more distant. He pulled away and grabbed Uncle Donald's guitar.

"Hey, Uncle Donald? Could you play for us?" He knew that would make everyone feel better. Uncle Donald loved playing music and the song he was sure to play would soothe Huey and Dewey's fretting. He had this all planned out. Uncle Donald didn't fully believe his own words, that they would make do. Louie was determined to scheme a way to make sure that they did. Donald smiled at his youngest nephew and took the guitar, beginning to play. He didn't know how a couple of seven-year-olds could be so smart, knowing exactly how to make him feel better after a long and wearisome day.

As Louie had expected, Donald began to sing the song they all knew by heart.

"Look to the stars, my darling baby boys

Life is strange and vast, filled with wonders and joys

Face each new sun with eyes clear and true

Unafraid of the unknown, because I face it all with you."

As Donald continued to strum, Louie repeated that last line to himself quietly, "unafraid of the unknown, because I face it all with you."

"Now come on, I'll start dinner." Louie frowned, remembering what that meant on days like this.

He nudged Huey so that Huey could ask this question so that Louie could seem like the one who didn't care. Huey caught his drift and asked, "Are you going to eat with us?" Donald startled.

"What? Of course!" He hated that his nephews had noticed him skipping meals when money was tight. That meant he would have to stop doing it when the boys were watching. If he was careful, if he was just careful enough, he could stretch what they had to his first paycheck at whatever his new job would be. He wished, desperately, that he could be the lucky one for once. If his cousin were here, he wouldn't get fired, he'd get promoted. If Gladstone were here then a better paying job would just fall into his lap. Or, more likely then that, he'd just luck into having his bills paid and his nephews taken care of.

Sometimes he wondered if the kids would be better off with someone else, someone with better luck. He'd thought about his Uncle Scrooge, thought about Gladstone, thought about Fethry even. He knew they'd be best off with their mother but he was doing his best for them. The fact of the matter was that he needed those boys as much as they needed him. He wasn't ashamed to admit it. They were what drove him to be better when he so easily could have become a broken man after losing Della.

He still felt like a broken man, but he was doing his best for them. Doing his best for Della.

When the boys were in bed he pulled on his coat and went out to do some job hunting. Tired, sad, and frustrated from losing another job he balled up his fists and slammed them into the pocket, where he felt paper. His fists loosened and he pulled out a few strips of paper. 20 dollar bills. His eyes widened in surprise, but only for a second. He knew where these came from. He knew whose piggy banks had been robbed.

Donald stood in the light of a streetlamp in an otherwise darkened world, clutching three twenties in his fist. Tears stung his eyes. He was sad and angry that his boys thought they had to take care of him, yet appreciative and overwhelmed with love because they cared enough to try. He knew that he shouldn't keep the money, that he should sit his kids down and tell them that they weren't responsible for this and that he was the caregiver and therefore the one who handled the finances. He wanted to wipe their tears and thank them but gently insist that they didn't give up their childhood.

And he would have those talks with them. He would try his hardest to make sure his crazy kids didn't grow up too fast. But these 60 dollars would boost them into the next few weeks while Donald was potentially jobless. He needed them as much as they needed him.

They would make do.

Unafraid of the unknown, because I face it all with you.