The Stepmother, Part One
Jack railed. He railed as hard as his life could ever do. How could…how could his Dad do this? All these years, it was just Jack and his Dad. Jack had no Mom, because his Dad had told him that Mom was in heaven with Grandma and Grandpa. And so it was just the two of them, “the Byrd boys,” as Dad had said, just living the life together and enjoying it.
Until today.
Until the stranger that stood next to Dad, with Dad saying that she was going to be Jack’s new Mom. Jack didn’t care much for that; he’d liked things the way they were. But if Dad said to give it a chance, he’d give it a chance.
But he probably wouldn’t like it.
Richard Byrd put his arm around his fiancée and told his son, “Things will work out.” He then looked at his fiancée and smiled. “And you’ll just adore him, Pia.”
Pia leaned him to her fiancé, sighing in contentment. She and Richard had dated for close to two years now, but in all that time, somehow there was just never a chance to meet his son. Well, now that was done and the more time they spent together, the more they would be a family. She bent down to give him a hug, but he squirmed out of the way. She in turn looked back at Richard, somewhat worried.
“Hon, this is all new to him. Give it time; we’ve still got a couple of years until the wedding and all the time in the world after that. He’ll get to love you as much as I do. I promise,” Richard said, kissing her gently.
“I hope so,” Pia replied, hopeful as she went back to join him. “I just want us all to be happy,” she said, moving slightly so her horn wouldn’t poke him, though she curled her tail around his leg in a sign of love.
The A-Frame was, without a doubt, the hottest news site in Atlanta. Formed by a few journalists that had been laid off from the Atlanta Journal-Constitution when they went digital only back in 2031, the A-Frame was now the place to count on when news was now in the Gateway City. And in an office on the seventh floor of the Kirkland Center office complex was a door with what seemed to be a nondescript title: SEPIA TONE, HEAD STAFF PHOTOGRAPHER. The sign didn’t make sense until one opened the door to find a unicorn mare seated behind the desk, half hidden behind a massive computer screen. Her mane trailed around her face in in tones of sepia and coffee-brown, while her coat was the color of desert sand that framed two beautiful eyes of slate blue. At the moment, she was dressed in a polo and slacks and setting down a huge mug of coffee courtesy of a bright orange aura of magic from her horn.
There was a knock at the door and Pia looked up to find an all-too familiar gryphoness leaning against the door frame, grinning wildly: Gladys Gammon, her best friend and most recently, maid of honor at the wedding. “Pia, you’ve been home from your honeymoon since yesterday, it’s your first day back at work and you did not swing by my desk to tell me how it went. I hope you realize that not doing so is probably illegal in this city.”
Pia grinned, giving a toss of her head. “Life sucks, Gladys. You’ll just have to wait for the book.”
“Let’s get something straight here, Pia,” Gladys mock-threatened. “I’m still a gryphon and you’re just a pony – don’t make me go over there and hurt you.”
“Yeah, but if you did, who would sign your paycheck?”
Gladys rolled her eyes. “Well, there is that little technicality….” She took a sip of the coffee mug in her claw and began again. “So, are you going to tell me or should I just suffer in silence?”
“Can you manage to suffer until lunch? Noon at Burnin’ Sherman’s? On me.”
“For that offer? I can suffer slightly,” Gladys said with a smile. “Speaking of which, how’s…?”
Pia sighed, then gnawed on her lower lip. “Richard took the day off to drive to Birmingham to pick up Jack. Nelson and Joyce have been spoiling him rotten, but that’s what grandparents do. The real challenge will begin tonight when we’re all in the same household.”
“Well, from what you tell me, that kid has never had a mother. How’d that happen?”
“I don’t know the full details; Richard still doesn’t like talking about it much. Apparently his first wife, Melissa, was home in Kansas visiting her folks when a freak tornado hit the house. But that was only a couple of months after Jack was born, so, yeah, he’s never had a mother...and it looks like I’m it now. Just don’t know how I’m going to handle raising a human child. I figure it can’t be any harder than a pony foal, right?”
Gladys laughed. “Remind me sometime to have you talk to my next-door neighbor about that. Remember all those stories when we were young about humans being monsters and such? Well, they were partially right: it doesn’t apply to adults, but some kids?” Gladys shuddered. “Best thing I can think about Michelle’s kids – little monsters, completely and utterly. One of them even pulled out a couple of my remiges – those took forever to grow back,” she grunted.
“Jack’s not like that. He’s a sweet little boy, and an absolute dear.”
“Except when he’s around you, I’ll bet,” Gladys countered. All Pia could do was nod sadly in agreement.
Jack squirmed in the seat as the car rushed down Interstate 20. The nine-year-old boy would have rather been somewhere else. Anywhere else. “Dad, do I have to go home? Can’t I stay with Granny and Grampy?”
“No, we’ve got to get home in time for dinner. Your mother has something special planned tonight, she told me.”
“She’s not my mom,” Jack muttered. “You told me Mom was in heaven with Grandma and Grandpa. That weirdo unicorn isn’t my mom.”
“Jack, Pia loves you. She’s adored you since she came into our lives, son. Why can’t you give her a chance?” Richard was exasperated: two years of Pia trying everything to reach out to her now-stepson and Jack doing everything he could to stay two steps distant. He wondered if the family needed some sort of counseling, but he knew she’d want to try all other options first – he loved that about Pia.
“Dad, she’s a pony! How can a pony be my mom? That doesn’t even make sense. Nobody else has a kickstand for a—”
“Son,” Richard said sternly, “You will not talk about her like that, understand? It doesn’t matter if she’s human or not, she’s a person. And like it or not, she’s a part of our life now and you’ll have to adjust.”
Jack instead turned to petulantly stare out the window as all children did when proven wrong, leaving Richard to wonder just how long it was going to take for his son to warm up to his wife. Hell, it was only a hair over four years ago when Richard, no longer grieving over Melissa’s death but still numbed to social interaction, was talking to his fellow co-owners of the A-Frame about hiring a new head staff photographer since their old one had been wooed away by the Chicago Tribune, and one of them said they’d convinced a promising staff photographer from the New York office of the Canterlot Times-Herald to come work for them. That meant, of course, that she likely wasn’t human; and with a name like Sepia Tone she was either a pony or a porn star.
All jokes ended the moment she came in for her interview, however. Her photography was brilliant and her resume and gallery were impeccable. Richard, the business manager for the company, happily agreed to sign her on and even hire her as the senior photographer. But it was during his time talking to her that he got to know Pia, as she preferred to be called, and then they got to know each other much better; since he wasn’t involved with the news side of the business, his relationship with her didn’t cause waves, and the whole office cheered when the two announced their engagement, roughly two years after they first met.
And now, after two years of planning and headaches and the most interesting honeymoon in Equestria – because he wanted to know everything about where she came from, including her hometown of Dodge Junction – they were back home and ready for a life together. And sadly, the only thing preventing that was the last thing he had left from his previous life, his son. And the sooner he could figure out how to tie the two parts together, the better.
As part of her plan to welcome Jack home, Pia had left work early and pretty much slaved over the oven for this one. As his favorite food was pizza, the unicorn had decided to make a couple of them from scratch – one large pepperoni and mushroom pizza like he preferred and a smaller pizza capricciosa for her vegetarian preferences. As for Richard, he’d grabbed slices from both, not only as his own preference but to show that they were all part of one family.
In turn, she took a slice of the pepperoni pizza. She nibbled on it nervously at first, aware of what it was, and actually found it rather – and disturbingly – delicious. She set it down, using her magic to wipe a napkin against her mouth while she cut a slice of hers for Jack. Offering it to him, she asked sweetly, “Would you like some?”
In hindsight, the unicorn should have expected his response: he smacked it out of her hand and shouted, “No!” The pizza sailed backwards and splattered onto her face before she could catch it in her magic; when it fell, the look on her face was one of shock.
Richard noticed and his face contorted in anger immediately. “Jack,” he growled, “apologize to your mother.”
“Sweetheart, it’s okay,” Pia began, reaching for a napkin to wipe her face off. In that way she reminded him so much of Melissa: always easy to forgive, always looking for the more peaceful option.
“No,” Jack said, pushing the plate aside.
“Son, apologize now,” Richard insisted, his tone growing deeper, a sign that Jack was in for it.
“Hon, it…it was an accident,” Pia insisted.
“No,” the nine-year-old said, challenging his father.
Richard then pronounced sentence, his finger pointing down the hall. “Go to your room.”
“But Da—”
“Go, Jack,” Richard snarled. “You and I will have words later, understand?”
“Yes, sir.” Silent as a ghost, Jack got up from the table and stomped his way to the bedroom, refusing to bend an inch. As he walked past Pia, the mare couldn’t help but see her husband’s quiet strength in his son – hers now as well. Now, if she could only get through to him.
Once the door to Jack’s room was slammed shut, Richard buried his head in his hands. “Sorry, love. I don’t know what I can do to get through to him.”
She continued to wipe the stuff off; the olive oil from the capricciosa slice was getting into her mane, which meant a long shower tonight. “Jack’s just going through a phase right now, Richard. For almost all of his life it’s just been you two, and I represent a very big change to that. He’s bound to find that threatening and I certainly understand that.”
“Not the point, Pia. You are going to be in his life for the rest of it and he needs to understand that. When I asked you to marry me, it was a big step, not only in his life, but mine and yours as well. That’s not to be taken lightly and it is something he has to understand. I’ll talk to him about it, get him to see reason.”
“Please, Richard, let me,” she said, taking his hands in hers. “I want to be there for him, and I want him to know that. So let me, okay?”
He smiled. “The more I know you, Sepia, the more I fall in love with you each day,” he said, smiling and leaning closer to give his wife a kiss.
She blushed. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”
He flashed a loving grin. “All the girls? Not really. But only to one very special mare.” They leaned forward, kissed again, and then spent the rest of the day discussing their particular misadventures. Richard, of course, laughed at Gladys’ antics; for a gryphon she seemed to be somewhat spastic. Pia was particularly touched that Richard’s parents absolutely adored her and given their regards, as well as some advice on how to deal with Richard’s own “weird ways.” They also discussed some other things, mostly stuff that Pia would need to know as a parent and some other minor things.
But even as she discussed them with her husband, she couldn’t help but occasionally look down the hall to the door with the Mega Man Hyper poster on it and the child within.
Jack sat in the room for an hour before he heard a soft knocking on the door. Since his father never bothered to knock, he knew who it was immediately. “Jack, I brought you some dinner.”
“Go away. I don’t want any,” he said. He was actually hungry, but he wasn’t about to admit it in front of her.
She opened the door and floated the tray in, enveloped in orange magic. Part of him thought it was really cool, but again, he wasn’t about to admit it. Pia said, “Please eat. You’re a growing boy, and I want you to grow up to be healthy and strong. That’s all a mother wants for her foal.”
“I’m not a foal!” he shouted. “And you’re not my mother!”
“Sorry, just a term I’m used to. Can I come in?” Since there was no argument this time, she opened the door and sat down on the other side of the bed. “Jack, I’m not trying to replace your mother. I’m sure she was a wonderful woman and she loved you very much. But she would want someone to help you grow up to be a responsible adult, and that’s my job. I love your father and he loves me, and I love you too, Jack. So, please give me a chance?”
The response to that was a pillow to the face. Fortunately this time she was prepared and caught it with her magic mere inches from her face…as well as the two other ones he threw. Finally, she dumped them on the floor with her magic, not having moved a single muscle, but her eyes were filled with sorrow.
“Go away!” he shouted. “Just…leave me and Dad alone! We were doing great before you came here! We don’t need you!”
She said nothing to that; instead, a single tear fell from her eye as she left the room. Good, he thought. Maybe if I keep this up I can get rid of her and then things will go back to normal. The smile on his face grew as a plan started to fill his head.
And then his dad walked in.
After a long and bitter scolding of his son as to how completely disappointed he was, Richard went off to talk to the one person who needed it most. He found her, lying on the bed, looking at a picture frame. In it were two unicorn fillies, mirror images of each other, happy as could be. Behind them a strong unicorn stallion in barding; by his side was a beautiful earth pony mare not much different in looks than Pia.
“Sorry,” she said, wiping her eyes as she held the picture in her left hoofspace, reaching over for a tissue on the nightstand with her right. “Jus’ thinkin’ ‘bout Ma an’ Pa. An’ mah sister.” There was a slight twang in her voice as she spoke, something he’d never noticed before. “Pa wuz a senyur Guard, an’ c’mmanded th’ garrison outside Dodge Junction. Ma wuz just a housewife, but sh’ always kept things neat. An’ mah y’nger twin sister, Slate Blue. Ah luv’d them all.”
“I remember you mentioned you were an orphan, but…what’s with the accent?”
“Norm’l talk fer us folks from Dodge Junction,” she said, as her accent disappeared and she gave him a weak smile. “The orphanage pretty much sapped it out of me, but it always seems to come back somehow when I’m thinking of them.”
“What happened, if I can ask?”
“When I was about seven years old,” she began, “Ma, Pa and Blue went to Manehattan for the Summer Sun Celebration. I just caught a case of the hornpox, so I stayed with a neighbor while they went; Pa had to go since he was providing security and Ma and Blue really wanted to see it. From what I was told, they were on one of the first-generation Friendship Express trains, the first built with steam engines.” Richard’s father was an engineer, so he instantly knew what that meant. “I was told it was quick and they didn’t suffer, not that it’s been much consolation to me.
“But since the neighbors couldn’t afford to raise me and no one knew if Ma or Pa had other relatives, I was sent to live with Miss Gray Line at the orphanage in Moorglade. I grew up an orphan, and while Miss Gray did the best she could for me, she was no parent. My accent was forced away by well-meaning but wrong teachers at the school. I was strong enough to try out for the Mage Guild Academy, but without a letter of recommendation, I couldn’t get in. So I turned to photography and got my cutie mark in that. And when I was a legal adult, it was time to bid farewell to the orphanage and make my way in the world.
“I know everypony did the best they could for me, and I don’t doubt Miss Gray wished she could have gotten me a recommendation somehow. And my skill at photography got me here to you, and I can’t complain about that. But it made me think about what I’d be like when I became a parent. And now here I am.”
He reached over and embraced her. “Pia, don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re doing everything for Jack that you can and while he doesn’t see it now, he will. Plus, we’ll have other children as well and you’ll be just as great with them.”
“How’s he doing?” she asked.
“Well, after you left he ate the slices you left him. And I grounded him for a day; no videogames, just books. You could have done the same, you know.”
“I suppose, but I want to reach out to him first. A mother’s first instinct should be to nurture her foal, and I promise you and Melissa that I will be the mother he needs.”
“Pia, you don’t have to compare yourself to Melissa. He was only two months old when the accident happened. And I know she wouldn’t want you to be a copy of her; she’d want you to be a mother in the only way you can.”
She smiled. “I know,” she said, nuzzling his arm, closing her eyes and sighing in contentment. “But I want to be the kind of mother that would make you proud as well, Richard.”
“You already are, Pia. You already are,” he said, stroking her mane and caressing her horn.
“Pia, if you don’t stop blaming yourself for Jack, I swear I’m gonna…arrgh!” Gladys emoted. Usually press conferences were boring affairs, covering some topic neither of them really cared about, from banning nuclear rabbits to an olive oil embargo on Narnia, for all they were concerned. But Fred, the editor-in-chief, told them this was big enough to warrant two shutterbugs: ostensibly, it was about the scandal involving their locally elected senator Moses Lydon (D-GA), who was giving a press conference to declare his innocence. But the real news was the fact that he’d received moral support from Virginia senator Tyson McAllister, a Republican. There had been rumors that McAllister was planning a run at the White House in the next few years, and whether or not that was true, the simple fact that he was here to support Senator Lydon (whose popularity had recently plummeted) was enough to make news. For a redsider to come to Lydon’s aid? Either he was truly innocent or McAllister was laying groundwork for that trip to 1600 Pennsylvania. Maybe both.
Pia aimed her trusty Nikon RQ17, its multiphase zoom lens capable of picking up the pimples on Senator Lydon’s face. Of course, she’d just photochop those out, but it always impressed her the shots she could get with her baby. Focusing for the next picture, she said, “It’s been two months of bliss for me and Richard…and two months of daily fighting with Jack. Honestly, I don’t know what to do anymore, Gladys.”
“Throw him off the top of Bank of America Plaza and then start over?” Gladys said, whimsically. For that she earned a tongue stuck at her by her friend, and the gryphon grinned. “Seriously, though, maybe Richard’s right about boarding school for Jack. Did you think about that?”
Pia shook her head. “I wouldn’t allow it.”
“He’s Richard’s son; it’s his decision, I think.”
“No, he’s our son – Richard himself has said so, and I don’t think boarding school is the best option. He needs a mother’s love, and I am now that mother, so I can’t just give up. Besides, how would it feel for him? He’s lived just with his dad all this time, and then here comes this mare that takes away his dad and then sends him away?” Pia shook her head. “I can’t let that happen to him. He needs me and I just can’t give up.”
“Uh, ladies, y’might want to focus a little more on the conference?” an older man standing next to them and wearing press credentials from the New York Times replied; on-stage, Lydon was being verbally beat up by several reporters; a few attempted to direct their inquiries to McAllister, but the man was as smooth as silk in dealing with it. They were prime shots that both females missed, and would have missed more had not the man brought it to their attention.
“Thanks,” Pia said, sheepishly. “Almost missed it.”
“Distractions in our business are a killer,” he said absently, lifting a Canon of a model she didn’t recognize but was clearly antique and well cared for. Never taking his eyes off the shots, he continued. “But if I may, it sounds like you’re recently married and have a stepchild that doesn’t get along well with you. I know how that is. I married my wife shortly after the Syrian Revolution back in ’13 and her daughter wasn’t very happy to get a new Dad. We sparred for years – well until she moved out of the house. But one day, she got her heart broken by another guy and needed advice bad. I was there for her and that’s when she realized I was always there for her. It might just take a while, but as long as you’re being true to the kid, sooner or later he’ll figure it out.”
“Thanks,” Pia said, getting the money shot of a tear trailing down Lydon’s cheek. That tear, clearly borne of stress, was going to doom him, if history was any indicator. She remembered when the mayor of Moorglade had shed tears after being accused of having an affair with a mare who wasn’t his wife; the truth had turned out to be much more sinister than that, but it had been that tear that doomed Polling Booth and it wouldn’t have surprised her if there had been human politicians who’d suffered the same thing. Shows of equinity – or humanity, in this case – didn’t always play well with a fickle voting public.
“Well, that wraps up the whole thing,” Gladys said as the press conference started winding down. “I’m telling you, though, you should probably let your husband handle this one. You and Richard deserve marital happiness, Pia, and that’s what it’s all about.”
She shook her head as she started to dismantle her tripod. “No, it’s about happiness as a family. And I can’t accept that until Jack accepts me.”
The gryphoness shook her head. “You’re insane, you know that?”
Pia smiled. “No. I’m a mother.”
“So you’re sure about this?” Max, the A-Frame’s CEO and Publisher asked the other members of his fellow board of directors.
“Hey, just think of us as the 21st century Hearst,” Richard commented. “I mean, look: the New York Times is starting local news sites, the Los Angeles Times is starting local news sites and the Examiner papers – Hearst’s old baby – are doing the same. It’s like the age of the newspaper all over again, just on a digital level. And if the A-Frame is going to survive, we’ve either gotta expand or we’re going to get bought out. Did you know the Washington Post has been buying up a lot of local news sites? They just bought up the Highside Herald.”
“The what?”
“Denver-based news site,” Fred explained, adjusting his glasses. “It’s top dog there, nearly forced the Denver Post into bankruptcy and forced them to go all-digital four years ago. Richard’s right: if we go big, we have a chance to survive. But if we end up working for someone else, well, who’s to say it won’t be the AJC cutting us all over again?”
“But didn’t you say that we’ve still got some overhead to pay back from our loan from the bank?” Charity, the Editorial Director, asked. “I mean, it wouldn’t do good for our banksheet if we’ve got a second loan we’ve got to pay off, and I’m sure that’ll start the sharks swimming.”
“Yes, but we have a secret weapon,” Richard commented. “Kirkland Industries, the folks who own this building? A few weeks ago I was talking to the guy in charge of their real estate branch, Brandon Gutierrez, and he says that Kirkland is looking to invest in a few promising businesses, and by the line of inquiry meant they were looking at us. Now, I’ve looked at some of the businesses Kirkland invests in and apparently they’ve historically had no problem with who runs the show; they’re happy to be just junior partners that sign the checks. But with the backing of Kirkland behind us, we could start up news sites in about five cities and staff them almost instantly.”
“You sound absolutely sure on this,” Max commented.
“Enough so that I just bought the rights to some old, defunct names in the newspaper industry that should give us extra credibility if we go live: Los Angeles Mirror, Politico for DC and the New York Sun. I figure with anything else, we can buy a few regional sites in the Midwest for backup.”
“That’s Richard for ya, always thinking ahead,” Peter, the Chief Technical Officer, agreed.
The final vote was 9-2 in favor of Richard heading to Kirkland headquarters in Seattle to talk things over with Gutierrez. That afternoon, Richard called Brandon up and found that yes, Kirkland was still interested in the idea and in fact the CEO was more than willing to meet with Richard himself. So plans were set and first thing Monday morning Richard would head out west to work on getting A-Frame Publications, Inc.’s fame and fortune.
That night the three had dinner. Things had improved, relatively speaking, between Jack and Pia to the point that instead of an argument or food throwing, there was pained silence. At the moment, they were enjoying a nice spaghetti Bolognese with some mycoprotein “meatballs”. Jack had reluctantly talked about his day at school, and that Open House was next week and his teacher, Mrs. Whittaker, wanted to talk to his parents.
Richard sighed. “I guess you’ll have to take that one alone, Pia. I’ve got to travel to Seattle for a business meeting. I should be gone all week.”
“That’s a shame, hon. I think it would have b—”
She was cut off by Jack’s sudden outburst of, “Dad, can I tell them that you can’t make it and we can just skip it.”
Richard looked at his son, shaking his head. “First off, Jack, it is very rude to interrupt someone while they’re speaking. Secondly, your mother is quite capab—”
“She’s not my mother!”
“Jack, that’s strike two,” Richard warned. “Plus, it will be just the two of you while I’m gone for the week and I expect you to be on your best behavior, understood?”
Jack sighed melodramatically. “Can’t I just stay over Jamie’s house? Or Tommy’s?”
Pia was about to say something but Richard gave a her a look and a soft shake of the head. He knew she was going to acquiesce, but not this time. “No. This is going to give you and your mother some time to straighten things out between you.”
“She’s not my mother! She’s just some dumb pony that y—”
Richard had enough. “Go to your room, Jack, and consider yourself grounded for the weekend, understood?” This time, the young boy didn’t acknowledge, simply just stomped away from the table as if he was auditioning to be the Dixie Godzilla and went back and slammed the door once again.
The two adults at the table were suddenly quiet for a second before Richard spoke. “Pia, I wish you’d reconsider about the boarding school. I’ve been looking into some of the local ones. Riverside Military Academy is just an hour north and I’m thinking we should look into it.”
“Richard, please,” Pia begged. “We can fix this!”
He shook his head and sighed. “Love, I can’t take this anymore. He has no respect for you and he’d rather go off the reservation than to listen to me. I’m at my wits’ end as to what to do and if he won’t listen to me, then we’ll have no choice but to do it.”
“Please, Richard, I don’t want him to go away,” she said, her eyes on the verge of tears. “We’re supposed to be a family, and how can you and I have foals…I mean, children, if our son doesn’t want to listen?”
“Okay. I’ll give you the week I’m gone to try to work things out with him; otherwise, I don’t know what else I’ll do, hon.” She rose from her seat and went over to hold her husband, wrapping her forelegs around his shoulders in support, kissing the crown of his head. “But whatever happens, I just hope it’s for the best,” he said, his voice dull and quiet.
“So do I,” she whispered.
Two days later, she wondered if she’d made the right choice. Since Monday, it had been the same pattern. Argue with him over breakfast, a painfully quiet drive to his school, Belmont Hills Elementary, spend a day at work commiserating with Gladys, pick-up Jack from school, get ignored by him while trying to make dinner, end up leaving dinner on a tray by the door and spend the rest of the evening wondering what she else she could do.
And now it was Wednesday. Clouds were setting in; the moon hidden mostly behind the clouds was as beautiful as anything Luna was responsible for. O Sacred Nightbringer, she prayed silently, please help me to get through to my foal. She knew Jack wasn’t a foal, and there was no way to know if Luna had heard her prayer, but even still, she needed all the help she could get.
“We’re here,” she told Jack, who’d been playing with some game on his tablet and ignoring her as usual. “Now I’ll need yo—” The moment the car was parked the young kid all but ripped off his seatbelt and rushed into the school, leaving Pia behind to try to figure out where exactly in the school was the classroom.
As she walked into the school, she was approached by one of the teachers, a middle-aged African-American woman. “Excuse me, ma’am? Is there something I can help you with?”
“I’m looking for Mrs. Whittaker’s class. My son’s a student, and….”
The woman looked at her strangely. “We, uh, don’t have any pony students here at the school, ma’am.”
Pia nodded. “Well, he’s not a pony. Technically, he’s my stepson, but he’s never really had a mother, so I’m it.” Offering a hoof, she introduced herself. “Sepia Tone…Sepia Byrd, sorry, still getting used to surnames. And you are?”
“June Whittaker. Well, I wouldn’t have believed it otherwise, but here you are.” A curious look crossed the unicorn’s features, and Mrs. Whittaker guided Pia towards the office faculty room. “Jack…has been telling what I thought was tall tales as of recent, about a monster at home hypnotizing his father with her evil magic and trying to keep him from being happy. Experience told me that a stepparent was involved, but the magic…well, that makes a little more sense now. Would you care for a cup of coffee?”
“Um…I should see to Jack and….”
“He’s fine, Mrs. Byrd. But I feel that you and I need to talk.”
Twenty minutes later, Pia found herself crying more than she’d ever done in her life. Everything she’d done for him, every time she’d tried to reach out to him, all for nothing. He’d told the other kids at school about the monster with his dad, and none of it was nice; instead, it was heartwrenching: tales of hatred, borderline speciesm, and wishes that she’d just die and go away for good. At the end, Mrs. Whittaker herself felt slightly guilty for revealing it.
“Mrs. Byrd?” Mrs. Whittaker said, reaching over and patting the distraught pony on the back. “I understand this is hard for you, but I thought you should know. I would have preferred your husband be here as well. Please, take all the time in the world that you need to compose yourself.”
She shook her head, blue eyes red from tears. “I just don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” she sobbed. “I’ve tried so much to be there for him – I don’t know why he hates me so.”
Mrs. Whittaker nodded. “Mrs. Byrd, I like to pride myself on being an observant person, and nothing I’ve seen of Jack indicates he’s been mistreated or abused at home. But his anger towards you: as a teacher, I can provide several different avenues of help, from family counseling to medical attention, though I doubt it’s that far.
“My husband has discussed sending him to a boarding school, but all this time I’ve been against it. He’s my son, I…he’s not my son,” she said, admitting defeat. “I’ve tried so much to have him in my life, but….” The tears started fresh again.
“Sometimes parochial schools or other methods of instructions must be done. I’m not a fan of them; I’m a big believer in the public school system, but not every parent is and sometimes those parents are right. Ultimately you two will do the right thing for Jack, I’m sure. But from what I can tell, Mrs. Byrd, is that no matter what happens, you love Jack very much. Whatever has happened, it is not your fault as a parent. I’ve seen plenty of parents who could care less about their children, if even that much. But he’s not only not yours by blood, he’s not even the same species as you. That’s a rare quality of love indeed, and just proves that you’re very much a fit parent.”
The words said were of little comfort to Pia as she drove home that night, Jack sitting in the back seat since he sensed something was wrong, though what it was, he wasn’t sure. As for the unicorn, she was so distraught by the parent-teacher talk that she barely heard the cellphone ring. Answering it via the dashboard, she recognized the number. “Yeah, Gladys, what’s up?”
On the other end of the line, the gryphoness sounded like she’d seen better days. “Oh, glad I caught ya. Randy has an interview tomorrow with an Equestriani pop-star performing in town this week; I think her name’s Midnight Moondust or something like that. Anyway, they need a photographer out there, and with Jim out in DC covering Senator Lydon’s resignation because of the scandal and me having feather flu, it’s either you or Andy – and you know how Andy is when it comes to pop stars.”
“Yeah, I can see how you covering the photoshoot would cause problems.” Feather flu was a unique, possibly magical airborne disease that affected only feathered sapients – birds were completely immune. The disease was messy for both gryphons and pegasi and with someone like Midnight Moondust being susceptible, well, it wouldn’t be good that a pegasus celebrity caught something from an A-Frame employee; the guys at the AJC or CNN would have a field day with it. “Don’t worry, I’ll cover it. But you’re gonna owe me.”
“Fine, lunch is on me when I’m back on the clock. We can go to Southern Belle’s.” Southern Belle’s was one of the more expensive restaurants in town, so it was clear Gladys was serious. “And now, I’m going to go die on my bed until Monday. See you then.”
“Take care and let me know if you need anything, Gladys. Bye.” With that, she shut off the line just as they pulled up in front of the house. Pia said nothing, instead letting Jack wander in without saying anything. She went straight to bed, not worried about Jack for a change. Tonight had proven that despite his teacher’s words, she’d failed both Richard and Jack in the worst way possible. She wasn’t a parent. She was nothing but a joke.
The sky was a sunless iron-gray as the rain fell. Pia woke up groggily, running late; she’d cried herself to sleep and slept through the alarm. She had just enough time to throw herself in the shower and cast a quick drying spell instead of doing it the old-fashioned way. As she stepped out of the bedroom, she noticed Jack had already eaten breakfast – he refused to let her even so much as make him breakfast this past week and after Monday she’d stopped arguing. Looking at the clock, she realized she didn’t have time to brew some coffee and instead threw on a jacket and a rain-shield as they made their way to her car.
The drive to his school was a challenge: he wasn’t talking and the rhythmic thrumming of the rain against the windshield was already threatening to drag her further towards slumber. But she forced herself to stay awake long enough to make it to Jack’s school to drop him off. There was a McDonald’s on the corner of South Cobb and Floyd, and once she dropped him off she could head there, grab a coffee and an Egg McMuffin and make it to the hotel where the interview was being conducted.
On the way, she noticed a bus advertisement for the new Mega Man movie that had just come out yesterday. Jack adored the character, and it gave her an idea. As she pulled into the Kiss and Ride, she said, “Jack, I’ll be here at the usual time. Do…do you want to go to the movies tonight?”
“No,” he said.
Normally she would have just shut up, but the exhaustion and despair had finally gotten to her and her tears began anew. “Jack,” she sobbed, “why do you hate me? All I want for you is the best, for us to be a family. Why can’t you accept me?”
With the instinctive cruelty of a nine-year-old, Jack rushed in for the kill. “BECAUSE YOU TOOK MY DAD FROM ME! WE WERE DOING GREAT BEFORE YOU CAME INTO OUR LIVES! I HATE YOU AND I HOPE YOU DIE, YOU DUMB UNICORN!” Before she could even respond, he jumped out of the car and ran through the rain towards the school.
Completely shocked by his words ringing in her ears, Pia forced herself to pull over and cry for several minutes, completely distraught. Not only would he never accept her, he hated her. She would not only never be a mother to him, but instead he considered her an enemy who deserved to die. She cried for the longest time, until her phone went off. “Hello?” she said, trying not to sound too broken.
“Pia? It’s Randy. Hopefully you’re on the way. Rain’s looking bad, so be careful. There was an accident on The Perimeter down by South Atlanta. Don’t know how close you are to that, but be careful, okay?”
“Yeah, I will. See you soon.” She cut off the call and got back to driving; it was now 8:20 and she was going to be late for the 8:30 interview. Unfortunately, that meant she was going to hustle. Hopefully she could get some coffee at the hotel. Keeping in mind that there was an accident down on South Atlanta, she’d just take The Perimeter to I-75 and get there that way. Now if she could just stay awake, she thought as she turned right and went towards Windy Hill.
She tried turning on the radio, turning it up in the attempt to keep herself awake, but to no avail. She blinked once. Twice. Three times. It was bad by the time she got to the I-75 interchange. I’m going to make it to the interview if it kills me, she thought to herself, opening her eyes as wide as she could and focusing on nothing else but the road. But she blinked again. And as the big rig several feet in front of her suddenly jackknifed and crushed the cars directly in front of her with no time for her to react and barely enough time to register what was occurring, she suddenly realized that her vow had just become very real.
Richard was just getting into the Kirkland building when he saw the rainfall. He vaguely remembered the old story that when rain fell, it was angels crying because someone had died. Chuckling at the nonsense of it, he went in; this was Seattle and the place was like the center of the rainstorm universe, 24/7 – Richard wondered if they’d ever seen a sunny day and what kind of public panic would arise should one ever come to pass.
But as he walked in, he put on his game face. Today, he’d sit down with Robin Kirkland, CEO of the company and offer Kirkland a ten percent share in the company. In turn, Kirkland would bankroll the new sites they needed and all would work out very happily. If they managed to sign it early enough, there was time for a celebratory lunch, and he could catch a red-eye back to Atlanta. He’d be exhausted, but it’d be worth it just to be with Pia and Jack again.
“Mr. Byrd?” Kirkland’s secretary, a woman named Maria, approached him. At first he thought she was going to offer the usual coffee and scones she’d done every day this past week. Instead, she ushered him to a private elevator, saying, “Sir, this way, please.” She was unusually businesslike and far less chipper than she’d been in the past few days – something was wrong.
“Is there something wrong, Maria?” he asked, but she remained quiet until the doors to the elevator closed and they couldn’t be heard by the public.
“There is, Mr. Byrd,” she said, the look on her face, uneasy. “We just got a call from the Atlanta Police Department. Your wife…she’s been in an accident.”
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That kid has no respect what so ever
. I hope Pia isn't dead or anything. Looking towards the next chapter 
1990817
Remember, he is rooted into thinking that Pia is trying to take away his father from him. He loved his father, and sees Pia as a threat. Thus, all that animosity. If Richard does end up sending Jack to boarding school... It may either teach him respect, or completely alienate (and hate) Pia even more.
I wonder if this incident is going to draw references to the jackknifing which killed Kendra.
Wow, rough kid.
Oooh shit. I hope Pia is alright.
And Jack, feel the guilt slither down your veins!
This kid needs some Poison Joke slipped into his lunch.
Wow, it went from family troubles to car accident. Hope Pia's alright.
Poor Richard, he finds a wife and she goes and gets herself killed at random. Or at least badly injured.
Ah, that kid. A textbook example of the old saying: children are horrible. Not sure if you overdid it or not. I guess we'll see in chapter 2.
Also, author's notes. Yay!
Dat cliffhanger...
Having grown up in St. Louis I can assure you that, yes, children are that mean and pointlessly spiteful.
Here's hoping Pia's ghost haunts Jack!
OKAY. Prediction time:
1. Pia isn't really dead as the "make it if it'll kills me" and crying angels things suggest. Just severely hurt.
2. On hearing the news, Jack'll be delighted at finally getting some justice against that family killer Pia.
3. Thus, with Pia out of commission, Richard will be forced to take sole care of Jack without Pia for at least an extended period of time. Win-win, in Jack's train of thought.
4. Though, when Richard learns of Jack's (indirect) responsibility in Pia's crash, he ultimately alienates him even more than when he was with Pia, either by boarding school, going through the motions of life in a loveless manner, just enough to keep Jack alive, or some other equally separating reaction.
5. Jack originally feels an even greater injustice is done upon him, possibly due to his dad being brainwashed or some other story he'd told his friends and tries to convince his dad she's evil, finish her off, etc.
6. Eventually he sees the error of his ways and deeply regrets his actions because Friendship.
knowyourmeme.com/photos/140529-friendship-arsenal
...whatta rough kid. As much as one can say that it isn't Jack's fault, I still feel nothing but contempt for him and he is a prime example of children being horrible.
That was awesome, great, and can I give it anymore recognition? Please! It is brilliant!
I wonder if the father may have only exacerbated the incident, rather than discipline the child for insulting Pia (a normal thing to do in typical cases this case, however, is atypical) he should have made an effort to demonstrate that nothing has actually changed between them, the son isn't getting less love he is getting more love" the same love from his father and new love from his step mother.
I just realized that the new cover-art has 'Sidestores' instead of 'Sidestories'. Meh.
When the pony's name was revealed to be 'Pia' I thought you were going to have the guy marry Pia Ikea, the pony embodiment of easily constructed furniture.
Wow, Semitrucks do that a lot in this universe. I'd ask if it was the same accident that killed... don't know her name. Lyra's husband's ex-wife. But the time frame doesn't fit.
Okay and this is sad but the first thing here that made me laugh out loud (unfortunately, as a life long Atlanta resident) was the thought of the AJC lasting in any form until 2031......... oh well