Growing together

by Raven4lyfe

The Thing in the Living Room

The sun has almost set by the time I reach my front door. A light shines out a window letting me know that someone is already home, most likely my mother. I take a deep breath and prepare for an eventful evening. I shut the door behind me after putting it off for another minute. I look around the living room and find the thing with wheels in the middle of the living room. I know that it’s something that my Father has been working on. In the corner of the room my Mother is working at her desk and given that she is wielding her red pen I’m sure that she is grading papers. She looks up from her desk, lowers her reading glasses, rubs at her eyes and examines me.

“Have you finished your homework yet Cinnamon?” Her normal way of greeting me is to interrogate me the moment I enter her presence. The sigh that follows the question lets me know that she already knows the answer.

“Not yet,” lying to her has never ended well for me, and this is the best way to end this conversation peacefully.

She resets her glasses, brushes her blond mane from her face and turns back to her work. “What have you been doing all day?” With her red pen she writes something on the paper that she is grading. My Mother is the kind of teacher that takes pride in dashing the hopes and dreams of her students. At least that’s how she was when I was in her class last year.

“I’ll go do my homework,” Algebra has to be the creation of the Draconequus that lives in the town at the bottom of the mountain.

“You didn’t answer my question,” She continues working, only now she’s using her magic so that her mouth is free to continue questioning me. “Where have you been all day?”

I should just get it over with, “I was just at the hobby shop.”
Her pen drops, she begins rubbing the side of her head and rotates her chair around to look at me. “I told you to stop going there. Your Father has told you to stop going there. That place is just filled with grown stallions wasting their lives away.”

“Not everyone there is an adult. I met a guy there today that’s only a little older then I am,” I defend my place of leisure.

She sighs, unimpressed with at my defense. “And what was this colt doing there?” She rolls her eyes as she asks the question.

“He was playing cards,” I give her a smile and a displeased look forms on her face. “He even taught me how to play.” I add hoping to make him seem better.

“You spent the day with a colt that taught you how to gamble?” She completely misunderstands what I meant.

Before I can form my reply the front door opens and my Father walks in. He is followed by a few bags being carried in his magic. They clank of metal and fill the room with the smell of oil. He takes a moment to examine my Mother and me. As his magic lays the bags next to the wheeled thing he kisses his mother on the cheek. Her face contorts slightly, I bet from the smell coming off him. He always comes home stinking with his white coat being anything but what I would call white. He makes his way to me next and I bounce back. This only makes him laugh. He doesn’t try a second time and walks into the kitchen.

“Please don’t just leave them in here,” My Mother yells as she rubs at her marked cheek and checks her hoof to see how badly he dirtied her own white coat.

“I’ll find somewhere for them in the morning,” My Father replies as he runs himself a glass of water.

“I’m still waiting for you to find somewhere for this thing,” She points a hoof over at the thing in the living room.

“Well it’s not like we have a backyard where I can store it,” I think he meant that as a joke, but it wasn’t very good.

“Can you leave it at work,” She leaves her chair and walks into the kitchen. “I know they have a warehouse or something with enough room to store it.”

“It’s easier for me to work on it if it’s here and I don’t have to make a trip to the other side of town to get to it,” He downs some of his water and clears his throat. “Besides the guys at work would just tear it down for scrap.”

“That’s because it is scrap,” she jabs at him.

“It’s not scrap,” His reply holding little venom in his voice.

“What is it?” I allow myself to join their conversation. My parents both turn to me and look at me like they forgot I was even here.

My Father furrowers his brow and runs his hoof through his orange mane. “It’s the axel of a carriage.”

“And what are you trying to do to it?” The thing has lived in the living room for more than a month and all I’ve seen him do with it is take it apart, put it together and use a lot of grease on it.

“I’m trying to improve the design,” He answers me and looks to my Mother waiting for her input on the subject.

“Highborn, whatever made you think that carriages even need an improvement?” My Mother has reached the point of calling my Father by name.

“Well Philantra, everything can be improved,” He stabs back at her. “And if I can make a version good enough to sell we’ll be set.”

“Please stop with the get rich quick schemes,” My Mother sits on her hunches and sighs.

“If only it was quick,” My Father tries to joke back. “Besides, building things is what I’m good at.”

“You’re not building anything, you’re just trying to fix something that isn’t broke,” My Mother starts to leave the kitchen, but stops when I catch her eyes. “Have you eaten yet?” I shake my head. “Go do your homework and I’ll bring you something in a few minutes.” She squeezes past my Father and opens the refrigerator.

“You haven’t done your work yet, what are you waiting for?” He asks.

I simply nod and walk to my room. Once inside I fling my bag onto my bed and flop on it myself right after. For a few minutes I lay on my back and listen as my parents continue their argument. Every night they do this, every time I open my mouth I make them have a fight.

Somepony knocks on my door, “Do your homework,” My Father directs from the other side.

I empty my bag and start on school work. It would better to be caught working when my mother brings my dinner. First up, the Draconequus’ gift to Equestria.