After that day, the next few progressed rather monotonously. I would wake up earlier than usual for me and later than usual for Braeburn, he would make us fantastic meals (without carrots) and we would go to work at the apple stand. After the first three days, everypony in town had gotten a portrait of themselves and I had gotten quite a few bits. That day, I got an idea. The stand wasn't getting much traffic and it struck me.
"Braeburn, I'll be right back, I gotta go to the bathroom," I lied. Thankfully, I was a pretty good liar.
"Uh, okay," He said, "Ah'll probably be fine takin' care of the stand myself, so you can take your time."
Inside, I did a dance of triumph. Yes! Just what I was hoping to hear! On the outside, however, my fiery orange eyes maintained a passive glance. "Okay. Be right back!" I called over my shoulder as I trotted out the door.I picked up my saddlebag that I had hidden outside the stand that was full of the bits I'd earned. As soon as I was a few yards from the apple stand, I galloped as fast as I could to the furniture store I'd seen in town. I found myself wishing I could take off, because it would be so much faster, but if I could fly then I wouldn't have even met Braeburn and I wouldn't be doing this right now. When I got to the furniture shoppe, I slowed down to catch my breath as I walked in the front door of the air-conditioned store.
The bell ding-ed behind me as the door swung shut. I took in the large showroom with furniture of all kind, color, and fabric. I trotted towards the recliners and easy chairs and began to look around for a really comfy, stallion-ly stallion kind of chair. There were a lot that seemed kind of ridiculous- Fire engine red, a super plushy velour, and even one with cup holders and a back scratcher. I was almost going to give up, until one perfect recliner caught my eye- A large, plush-but-not-too-soft, deep brown vinyl reclining chair. I bought it, using up two thirds of my bits- I told myself the stuff in Manehattan wouldn't be that great anyway, and there was still enough money for a train ticket, an impulse buy, and an emergency- and rode on the truck with a grey and brown employee pony who helped me install the chair in Braeburn's house.
Afraid that I had taken up too much time, I galloped back to the apple stand. I took a few seconds to fan myself off and cool myself down, re-hide my saddle bag, and trot into the back room like nothing had happened. Braeburn shot me a quizzical look because of how long I was gone, but he didn't pry. After a long, anticlimactic rest of the day, he started to close up shop. I could barely contain my excitement, to the point where I almost had a pained look on my face.
"You alright, sugar cube?" He asked me.
"Yeah, I just... I'm feeling kinda dusty and I'd like to take a shower." I lied again, relocating my saddlebag and sliding it back on.
"Okay," he said, seeming confused. "Ah guess we'd best hurry then?"
"Yes! we should definitely do that!" I nearly yelled.
He shot me a playful look. "Race ya!" He took off running towards his shack.
"Hey, no fair!" I giggled, taking off after him. Thankfully, I'd had some resting time and I was pretty fast, so I caught up with him pretty quickly. We ran side by side and bumped each other and laughed out loud. Sometimes he would pull ahead and sometimes I would, but mostly it was about even. Finally, we collapsed in a snickering, sweaty mess on his front porch.
"You're lucky I have a broken wing and a saddlebag," I exclaimed between breaths and giggles, "or I would have creamed you!"
"Oh really?" Braeburn purred. I quickly became acutely aware of the fact that I was on top of him and our muzzles were almost touching. I blushed a bit and giggled nervously. So did Braeburn. "Ah'm sorry. I just... I wasn't..." he stuttered.
"No, it's okay," I assured him, sliding off his belly and offering him a hoof to help him up. "It was funny." Still, he wouldn't meet my gaze as he opened the door for me. I made sure to go through the living room and I watched Braeburn slowly turn his gaze up as he bumped his shin on the new chair.
"What in the hay...?"
"I did that," I piped up. "I felt guilty that you let me have your only chair, so I got it for you. Go ahead, try it out!"
Experimentally, he climbed up and settled onto the soft brown vinyl. At first he held himself stiffly, but then he relaxed. A sound of comfort left his mouth. Ahhh.
I decided to amp up the comfort. I trotted to the side of the recliner and pulled the lever with my mouth. As the back of the chair went back and the bottom flew up, Braeburn yelled in confusion, but then looked like he settled in, even comfier. I leaned over him, my peppermint-striped mane making a curtain over both of us. "How do you like it?"
"Ah love it," he said sleepily. "You didn't have to go and do this for me!" He said, sitting up.
I frowned a little. He shouldn't be feeling guilty about it. "You didn't have to let me stay here until the train came," I countered. "Just let me do something nice for you!"
He seemed a little surprised at my force. "Alright then," he said, pushing the lever back down with his hoof and hopping out of the chair. "How does spaghetti alfalfa sound?” he asked.
"Sounds great," I replied.
After being Braeburn's sous chef, we brought our plates of pasta to the living room where we ate and watched CSI: Phillydelphia. I realized that after a few episodes, Braeburn had fallen asleep in his comfy new chair. I gingerly eased his plate from him with my mouth, carefully stacked it on top of mine, and washed both off in the sink. By the time I was finished, I was tired, despite it only being 11:00 PM (Being a night owl, I can stay awake for hours after 12). I didn't want Braeburn to wake up alone in the living room, so I scooted the lounge chair right up next to his, settled carefully on my left side, and rested my head on his arm rest. I fell asleep to the smell of Apploosa dust, apples, and Braeburn.