Redoing My Life (Modern Family)

The warm sun bathed the rolling green hills of the Bel-Air Country Club as I lined up my shot. A slight breeze ruffled my shirt while I focused on the ball, my club poised for a smooth, controlled swing. Everything was perfect—posture, grip, alignment.

"How much longer are you going to wait, kid?" I heard Jay say, his voice dripping with impatience.

I swung. The ball soared effortlessly down the fairway, tracing a clean arc against the blue sky before landing just shy of the green.

Jay whistled. "Good one."

I smirked, stepping back to admire my handiwork. "Told you, Jay. I'm an expert."

Jay scoffed, grabbing his club as we walked to the golf cart. "We'll see about that. I've been playing as long as you've been alive."

We climbed into the cart, and Jay took the wheel, driving toward our golf balls. "You know," he started, a hint of pride creeping into his voice, "now that I'm a member of this club, I've officially made it. Been lording it over my friends for weeks. This place is pure class."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Figured you'd appreciate the upgrade."

Jay grinned as he pulled the cart to a stop near his ball and got out, setting up his shot. "Hell, yeah. You know how much it bugs my buddies? Can't wait for the next poker night."

He adjusted his stance, lined up his shot, and swung. The ball soared down the fairway and rolled to a respectable position.

"Not bad," I said, clapping lightly.

Jay straightened up, a proud grin on his face. "Of course I do. What'd you expect?"

I smiled slyly. "Honestly? Reminded me of Mitchell's swing."

Jay froze, turning to look at me, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Mitchell? My Mitchell?"

I nodded. "Oh, yeah."

Jay let out a disbelieving laugh. "That kid was bad at every sport I ever tried to get him into."

"Well," I said, grabbing my club and walking toward my ball, "I've played a few rounds with him and Pepper. He's not half bad."

Jay blinked, his expression caught somewhere between amusement and disbelief. "Pepper? That guy plays golf?"

"Oh, yes," I said with a casual shrug. "Apparently, his father was a big-time golfer. I picked up a few tricks from him."

Jay stood there, his club resting on his shoulder, as if I'd just told him aliens were real. "Well, I'll be damned," he muttered.

"So, how's Mitch doing? Is he any good?" Jay asked.

"He's getting good," I said. "You should invite him out to play sometime. Could be fun."

"Yeah, yeah. You sound like Gloria, always telling me to do more father-son stuff. Like I said, sports weren't exactly Mitch's thing, you know?"

I leaned against my club. "He is good at golf, Jay, and you and Mitch could use some father-son time."

Jay sighed, the tiniest crack of sentiment showing through his usual gruff demeanor. "Yeah, maybe. We'll see. I'm hoping Joe turns out different, though."

We continued our game, making small talk and ribbing each other. As we were about to start another hole, a cart rolled into view, heading toward us. I was in the middle of a story, gesturing with my club.

"It's going to be my second time acting," I said. "I already did a small cameo for Batman…"

Jay, however, wasn't paying attention. He was looking over my shoulder. "Uh, kid, I think we've got company."

I turned to see the cart approaching, and my eyes narrowed as I recognized the familiar faces. Driving the cart was none other than David Fincher, and sitting next to him, with a wide grin plastered on his face, was Ryan Reynolds.

Oh, great, I thought. Him.

I knew David from some parties. He was a nice guy, though I found it unfortunate he was friends with Ryan as well.

The cart stopped nearby, and the two got out, walking toward us. David Fincher looked as relaxed and sharp as ever. Ryan, however, had that signature cheeky grin—the kind that looked genuine to everyone but me. I could tell he was laying it on thick.

David extended a hand toward me. "Daniel! What a pleasant surprise."

I shook his hand with a smile. "David, always good to see you."

Before David could say more, he gestured toward Ryan, starting to introduce him. "And this is—"

"Yeah, yeah, I know Mr. Reynolds," I said, cutting him off politely but firmly.

Ryan's grin widened slightly as he extended his hand. "Yes, and I know Mr. Adler. Quite the 'genius' of our time."

I shook his hand briskly, the tension between us evident. "Reynolds."

Ryan's voice carried his trademark charm. "Adler."

Hoping to ease the awkwardness, I turned to Jay. "And this is my friend, Jay Pritchett. Jay, meet David Fincher and Ryan Reynolds…Ryah is an actor is you didnt know…."

Jay stepped forward confidently, shaking their hands. "Jay Pritchett. Nice to meet you."

I smirked, deciding to hype him up. "Jay here is the closest business, basically one of the top business magnates in the country."

David raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Really? I'm actually redoing my home. Maybe you could help me out."

Jay smiled proudly. "I've always been the closet maker to the stars."

Then Ryan turned to me, that grin still firmly in place. "So why don't we make this more fun? How about we join you for the rest of the round?"

I hesitated for a moment, my brain screaming no, but Jay chimed in before I could object.

"Why not? The more, the merrier."

Great. Just great.

I plastered on my best fake smile. "Sure. Why not?"

We began to play. Ryan went first and lined up his shot. David, standing nearby, turned to me as we watched.

"I hope that deal with Gone Girl is going well, Daniel," David said casually.

Gone Girl had been published by my company and quickly became a hot commodity in Hollywood. Lucy had lured the author to our firm, and now that the book was a huge success, everyone wanted to adapt it. Many were approaching me to influence the author's decision.

I nodded. "Don't worry, David. She's going with Fox. You're going to get your wish."

Ryan finished his swing and walked over, catching the tail end of our conversation. He appeared relaxed, but there was a flicker of unease in his eyes as he heard me mention Fox.

"I've recently become very well-acquainted with Fox," I said, locking eyes with Ryan as I strolled up to the tee.

Ryan chuckled, the sound forced. "What are you talking about?"

I lined up my shot, taking a smooth, measured swing. The ball sailed down the fairway, landing gracefully near the hole. Jay nodded approvingly, and David clapped lightly.

"Well," I said, still looking at Ryan as I shouldered my club, "Fox is trying to make its own superhero movies, aren't they? And who better to advise them than… moi?"

Ryan's expression faltered for a split second before he plastered on a grin. "That's, uh… that's great. Great."

David adjusted his hat, looking contemplative. "I'm still not sure about this superhero resurgence."

I shrugged. "Well, David, if people like them, they'll watch them. And if they make tons of money, studios are going to keep making more. It's just how the industry works."

Jay, who was leaning on his club, chimed in. "Movies these days aren't what they used to be. Back in the '70s and '80s, those were real movies. Even the superhero flicks had more heart."

David raised an eyebrow. "There are still good movies being made, Jay."

Ryan, always ready with a quip, smirked at Jay. "I think you're stuck in the past, my friend."

Jay stepped up to take his shot, pausing briefly to glare at Ryan. "Say what you will, but you still don't have the magic of those days." He swung, and the ball landed impressively close to the hole.

The rest of the game unfolded in a mix of friendly ribbing and competitive spirit. Ryan and David had their moments, but Jay and I proved to be an unexpectedly strong team. Jay's years of experience on the course paired well with my natural skills, much to the frustration of our opponents.

As we approached the final hole, Jay and I were just a few strokes ahead. Ryan muttered something about me being lucky today, but the tightness in his grin betrayed his annoyance.

Jay took the final shot, sinking the ball with a confident putt. He looked over at me, grinning. "That, gentlemen, is how you do it."

I turned to David and said, "You should really get a better partner. This guy stinks," motioning toward Ryan.

Ryan, brushing off the jab, said, "Well i'm having an off day"

We headed back to the country club in our carts, with Jay and David in the first cart ahead of us. Their voices carried faintly as they argued about movies. Ryan and I were in the second cart, with me at the wheel. I glanced at him, already preparing to poke the bear.

"So," I started, my tone casual, "how did you like my new designated parking spot?"

Ryan rolled his eyes, arms crossed. "You ruined parking for all the members."

"Oh, really? I feel like I saved everyone from having their cars towed by an egomaniacal actor. Oh, who could that be?" I said, feigning deep thought.

Ryan glared at me. "I hate you."

I smirked and leaned back in the driver's seat. "You know, it's interesting—those guys at Fox had a lot to say about you."

Ryan's glare intensified, his jaw tightening. "You didn't."

"Oh, I did," I said, looking straight ahead with an innocent grin.

When we reached the country club, we parked the cart and got out. Ryan adjusted his shirt, clearly still annoyed. "If I hear you're anywhere near what I think you're trying to do…"

"Ryan, Ryan," I said, holding up my hands in mock innocence. "Fox is making movies with Marvel characters. I'm the DC guy, remember? I can't work with both."

Ryan looked a bit relieved, and we walked toward the building.

"I mean, can you imagine me going out of my way, in my very busy schedule, to talk to Fox? Maybe helping them develop their own cinematic universe as an advisor? All just to get my hands on a specific character so I could piss off one single actor?"

Ryan stopped in his tracks, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. "You…"

I grinned wider. "I mean, who would be so petty as to do that? Certainly not me, I assure you."

I walked ahead of him toward the clubhouse, and as I reached the door, I turned back, giving him a little wave. "Oh, and say hello to Scarlett for me," I added with a wink.

Ryan's mouth opened to say something, but I didn't stick around to hear it. I strode into the country club, a satisfied smirk on my face.

.

.

.

"Today has been a good day, Jay," I said as I drove, Jay sitting comfortably in the passenger seat.

"Yeah, I saw that," Jay replied, glancing at me. "Looked like you really hated that Ryan guy."

"Yes, yes, I do."

Jay smirked. "Reminds me of my own nemesis, Earl."

I raised an eyebrow. "Earl?"

Jay sighed. "Earl Chambers. We were partners back in the day, until he stabbed me in the back, stole a bunch of my clients, and left me to rebuild my business from scratch. Biggest snake in the closet game."

"Wow," I said, genuinely intrigued. "I guess everyone has their own Earl."

Jay asked, "So, what did this Ryan guy do to you? Must've been bad for you to hate him that much."

I glanced at Jay. "He had my car towed at the club."

"Understandable. What an asshole," Jay said.

'Finally, someone who gets me,' I thought.

We arrived at Jay's house and pulled into the driveway. As I parked, Jay unbuckled his seatbelt and asked, "You coming in?"

"Yeah," I said. "I have to see Manny. He called me last week about needing help with something."

We got out of the car and walked toward the front door, but both of us froze mid-step as Gloria opened it. She was holding baby Joe in one arm, her shirt partially unbuttoned, casually breastfeeding without a care in the world.

"Daniel! So good to see you!" Gloria said brightly, waving us in with her free hand.

I stood there, wide-eyed, trying to maintain eye contact and avoid looking down. "Uh… hi, Gloria."

Jay immediately threw up his hands. "Gloria! How many times do I have to tell you? At least put a blanket over it when someone comes to the door!"

Gloria rolled her eyes, unfazed. "Oh, yes, Jay, next time I will go feed your baby in a dark closet so no one gets offended."

Jay grumbled. "Or, I don't know, maybe let the nanny open the door. That's why we pay her!"

"You two men act like you've never seen boobs before," Gloria muttered.

I stood there awkwardly, doing my best not to look. "Uh… nothing to be sorry about," I mumbled.

Gloria headed to another room, leaving Jay and me standing in the entryway. Jay turned to me, an exasperated look on his face.

"That's been causing more problems than you think," he said, gesturing in the direction Gloria had gone.

I shrugged. "It's just breastfeeding. Honestly, I think Gloria's right. She shouldn't have to hide."

"Of course you'd say that," Jay muttered.

"Come here. Let me show you something," Jay said, walking toward the living room.

He grabbed a bundle of papers from the coffee table and handed them to me. The pages were filled with crude but detailed sketches of women. Specifically, the focus was… well… on their breasts. Each drawing emphasized that one feature, often exaggerated to a cartoonish degree.

I flipped through a few pages, trying to find the right words. "These are… uh… very…"

"Yeah, I didn't have the words either," Jay said, cutting me off. "Manny's school called the other day. They told me this is what Manny's been drawing in his art class. Apparently it's been going on for weeks."

I raised my eyebrows, struggling to suppress a grin. "Wow. These are, uh…"

Jay sighed, rubbing his temple. "You should see the sculpture."

I looked at him, startled. "There's a sculpture?"

Jay nodded.

I blinked, not sure what to say. "I mean, this is normal, Jay. Manny is a growing boy."

"I know it's normal for kids his age to be curious. I'm just trying to figure out where Manny's getting these ideas. Gloria has the internet locked down tighter than Fort Knox."

My mind flashed to the scene I'd just walked in on—Gloria casually breastfeeding Joe without a second thought. "You don't think…" I began, glancing toward the room where Gloria had gone.

Jay nodded grimly. "Yep."

I chuckled nervously, handing the drawings back. "Well, Jay, good luck with that. I'm gonna go talk to Manny, see what he wanted help with."

Jay narrowed his eyes. "If it's about this… hobby of his, you come tell me."

"Of course," I said, nodding as I headed upstairs.

I knocked lightly on Manny's bedroom door and was told to come in. As I stepped inside, I found Manny pacing back and forth. He spun around dramatically when he saw me.

"Daniel! Good, you're here."

"Well, you were pretty insistent. What's going on?" I asked, silently hoping it wasn't related to the drawings.

Manny took a deep breath. "I need your help."

I frowned, intrigued yet wary. "Okay, what's the big emergency?"

"I'm planning a romantic dinner tonight," Manny announced, puffing up his chest proudly.

I blinked, caught completely off guard. "Oh, so you finally got a date?"

Manny suddenly looked sheepish, his bravado faltering. "Yes… I did. She's the love of my life."

I fought back a grin. "The love of your life? That's, what, the fourth one if we're counting from last year?"

Manny didn't miss a beat. "This time it's different. It's serious. When you know, you know. And this is it, Daniel. I can just feel it."

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. The kid was a bit intense, but he had a good heart. Ever since I met him, I've been trying to mentor Manny about his romantic pursuits—mainly so he wouldn't grow up thinking overly grand gestures were always normal. It's a thin line between "charming" and "creepy," and I wanted him on the right side of it.

"Alright," I said, raising my hands in surrender. "What do you need?"

"I need your help buying a few things—ingredients for dinner, candles, maybe some flowers. The presentation has to be perfect."

"And let me guess—your mom and Jay can't know about this?" I asked knowingly.

Manny nodded vigorously. "Exactly."

I tilted my head, skeptical. "Look, Manny, I don't think Jay or Gloria would have a problem with you having a—"

"No," Manny cut me off, his tone desperate. "You can't tell them."

I raised an eyebrow. "I mean, won't they be here tonight?"

"No," Manny said, waving off my concern. "They're going out to dinner. I'll have the house all to myself."

I sighed, still unsure about this whole thing. But Manny's big, hopeful eyes were too earnest to resist. "Alright, fine. I'll help you."

Manny beamed. "Thank you, Daniel! This means the world to me."

=====

I helped Manny as I promised, driving him around town to pick up everything he wanted for his date—candles, flowers, and even ingredients for a dinner he insisted on cooking himself.

On the drive back, Manny turned to me, his expression hopeful. "So, did you like the poems I sent you?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I did. They were good, Manny."

His chest swelled with pride. "Thank you. I've been inspired lately."

I smirked, glancing at him. "Ah, this mystery girl is really getting to you, huh?"

Manny blushed, his cheeks turning pink, and he quickly looked out the window. "Something like that."

We pulled into the driveway to find Jay and Gloria standing by their car, clearly about to leave for dinner. Manny, clutching all his shopping bags, quickly opened the door and rushed into the house without saying a word.

"What was that?" Gloria asked, watching him hurry inside with his arms full.

I shrugged casually. "I'm helping him with a project."

"What project?" Gloria asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

Jay, already opening the car door for her, said, "Gloria, get in. Leave the kid alone."

He turned to me as Gloria reluctantly got into the car. "You staying? Because the nanny's in there with Joe, and I don't think she's met you."

I shook my head. "No, I'll be leaving soon."

Jay nodded. "Alright. See you later, kid."

I watched them drive off, Gloria craning her neck to look back at the house, clearly still curious about Manny's so-called project. Once their car disappeared down the street, I sighed and stepped inside.

"Hey, Manny," I called out. "Just letting you know I'm heading out."

Silence.

I sighed, shaking my head as I wandered into the living room. My gaze landed on a stack of Manny's latest drawings scattered across the coffee table.

The artwork was… striking, to say the least. My brow furrowed as I tilted my head, trying to make sense of it. The exaggerated curves, the overly detailed features—it was unmistakable. Gloria was clearly the inspiration.

I muttered under my breath, "I really hope Jay and Gloria have a serious talk with him soon." At least the kid was now focusing on girls his own age, which was a relief; Manny's endless crushes on older women—or his weird infatuation with Haley—had been a bit much when I was still dating her.

Just as I turned to leave, a soft voice stopped me in my tracks.

"Oh my God. Are you Daniel Adler?"

I spun around, startled. A beautiful young woman stood there, holding baby Joe in her arms. She had striking features, warm eyes, and an apron tied snugly around her waist.

"Uh, you must be the nanny," I said, forcing a polite smile.

"Yes! My name is Dalia," she replied with an eager nod.

The name sent a jolt of recognition through me, though I couldn't quite place it. "Nice to meet you, Dalia."

"I love your book Elden Ring! It's one of my absolute favorites!" she gushed, her eyes lighting up. "Could I maybe take a picture with you? Just one?"

"Of course," I said, smiling at her enthusiasm.

Dalia gently placed baby Joe on the couch and untied her apron. As she did, what she'd been hiding behind her apron immediately caught my eye. My gaze flicked to Manny's drawings, then back to Dalia's chest. And then it hit me like a truck.

Dalia. The name from Manny's poems. The passionate, borderline obsessive verses declaring his undying love and admiration.

'Oh, no… not again, Manny,' I thought.

Dalia stepped closer, holding up her phone. "Thank you so much!" she said, grinning as she angled the camera for a selfie.

I plastered on my best smile and leaned in, my brain still racing. She snapped the photo.

"Thank you again!" she said warmly, stepping back.

"No problem at all," I replied, forcing a cheerful tone. "Alright, I'm just going to have a quick chat with Manny about… uh, something important."

"Oh, okay! I'll just be here with Joe," she said, her smile unfaltering as she waved me off.

I walked toward the kitchen, feeling a bit relieved that Manny's drawings weren't all about Gloria. At least there was some positive development.

"Hello, Manny," I said.

"Hey, Daniel," Manny replied, not looking up as he meticulously arranged flowers in a vase.

"Your so-called date wouldn't happen to be with Dalia, by any chance, would it?"

Manny froze mid-flower arrangement, his hands clutching the stems of the roses as though they were a lifeline. Slowly, his face turned a deep crimson. "Uh… what makes you think that?"

I crossed my arms, narrowing my eyes slightly—not in anger, but concern. "Just a hunch."

Manny sighed, finally setting the flowers down. He avoided my gaze as he muttered, "Okay, fine. Yes, Dalia is my date tonight."

"And does Dalia know about this date?" I asked.

Manny's shoulders slumped. "No…" he admitted, looking down at his feet.

I sighed. "Come on. We need to talk," I said, motioning for him to follow me outside.

Stepping into the backyard, the cool air felt refreshing. I took a deep breath and turned to Manny. "Manny, you can't do this," I said firmly but gently.

"But I…" Manny started, his voice trailing off.

"Manny, I think it's really sweet how much you care about romance. It's rare to see someone your age so invested in this kind of thing," I interrupted, my tone softening at the crestfallen look on his face.

Manny glanced at me with a sheepish smile, shuffling his feet.

"I get it, and I respect that about you. But…" I paused, choosing my words carefully, "here's the thing—you need to rethink your approach."

Manny's face fell into a frown. "What do you mean?"

"Right now, someone like Dalia might find this"—I gestured to the flowers and the grand setup inside—"amusing or even charming because you're a kid. But you won't stay a kid much longer, once you're older, that same level of intensity can come across as a little creepy if you don't set the right boundaries."

Manny looked like I'd just told him Santa wasn't real. "But… I thought girls loved grand gestures."

"They do," I said, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "What you really want to do is take it slow, focus on friendships with girls your own age, and learn to read the signs of mutual interest instead of planning big, secret surprises. Trust me, those romantic instincts of yours can be a real gift—but only when they're directed at the right person, at the right time. If you do that, you'll grow into a genuinely thoughtful, charming guy that women your age will appreciate for the right reasons."

Manny nodded slowly, processing my words. "I guess I do get a little carried away sometimes."

I smiled, guiding him back inside. "The ladies are going to love you, kid. But you've got to wait a couple of years."

"Really?" Manny asked, his tone hopeful.

"Sure, sure. You'll see," I said with a grin.

As we stepped into the house, I casually added, "Oh, one more thing."

"What?" Manny asked, pausing mid-step.

"Jay and Gloria know about your recent art projects at school," I said, struggling to keep a straight face.

Manny's eyes widened in horror. "What? How?"

"Jay got called to your school," I replied, barely hiding my amusement.

Manny's voice jumped an octave. "But why? It was just me appreciating Dalia's beauty!"

I couldn't help but grin as I added, "Oh, and Jay thinks you were inspired by Gloria."

Manny froze, his face turning crimson as though all the blood in his body had rushed to his cheeks. "What? No! That's not—no… oh no, no, no…"

I burst out laughing as I walked toward the door. "Good luck explaining that one, kid."

Manny stood there, completely speechless, while I left the house, chuckling to myself all the way to my car.