//------------------------------// // Lucky // Story: Old Fashioned Love // by Rose Quill //------------------------------// Applejack was still next to me when I woke up, a rare occasion. I smiled as I looked at her sleeping face. She looked like a dork. Her hair had come undone from the braid she had put it in, one arm thrown up over her head, and her mouth was hanging open. The t-shirt she had borrowed from the handful of things that I had that fit her had hiked up, revealing her trim stomach and the slight line of her hips just over the gym shorts that, if I were to be honest, were too small even for me to wear decently. She also looked beautiful, because she still had that slight rosy glow to her cheeks that Rarity tried to imitate with makeup, her skin starting to take on a tan from the summer daylight, and the spray of freckles across her nose were becoming more pronounced as the tan progressed. “Lucky,” I whispered. “I am so freaking lucky.” I gave her a peck on the cheek and slid out of bed and slunk to the bathroom to take care of the usual things and to run a comb through my hair before heading to the kitchen, finding Dad chewing on a pastry as he skimmed the paper. “Hey, sport,” he said as he saw me, sliding over the sports pages in an old ritual. “How’d you sleep?” “Ok, I guess,” I said in a slightly bent truth. “It’s hard this time of year.” I dropped a pair of frozen waffles into the toaster and poured a cup of coffee. “I know,” he said as I sat and picked up the sports pages he had slid to me. “Your mom loved you, maybe even more than she loved me - hard as that is to believe.” I smirked. I know where I got my boastfulness from, and the words were an attempt to cheer me up more than any competition between us. “I know, Dad,” I said, wishing I could tell him about meeting Mom’s counterpart. “Mornin’,” drawled Applejack through a yawn as she came in, already changed into one of her shirts and a pair of Bermuda shorts. She had already admitted to me about forfeiting her place in the competition in favor of helping me. “Morning, sweetheart,” Dad said, getting a wave in return. “Fresh coffee in the pot and waffles or pastries are available.” AJ wrapped her hands around the barrel of a mug as she smelled the brew, perking up slightly. “Ya’ll have any eggs?” she asked after glancing at what we each had in front of us. “Maybe?” Dad said, looking at me with a confused look. “Farm girl,” I said, sipping my own coffee. He nodded. Over the next few minutes, with a few requests for locations, Applejack slid a plate of eggs in front of us both and the smell of pancakes filled the room. I couldn’t complain, an Apple family set of pancakes beat frozen waffles any day. “You didn’t have to do this,” I said as she sat down with her plate. “You’re technically on vacation today.” “It’s just as easy t’ fix batter fer three as it is one,” she said, dropping a pat of butter on her cakes. “‘Sides, Ah know how you blow through energy, them waffles wouldn’t have made it long.” “I could have made more,” I said with a grin, scooping up a forkful of scrambled eggs. They weren’t as good as usual as Dad didn’t have any milk - well, milk that we trusted - but still tasty and filling. Dad mumbled a sound of appreciation. “The little lady sure can cook,” he said, setting his fork down to wipe his mouth with a napkin. His stubble had gone from being five o’clock shadow into ‘forgot where I put my razor’ territory. “Maybe you all should stay over more often.” “Dad!” I protested. “What?” he said innocently as he stood and grabbed his briefcase. “It’s true. This is the best breakfast I’ve had at home in a while. And if you two hadn’t slept in we might have been able to talk a while.” He looked at Applejack. "Don't be a stranger, you hear?" He glanced at me. "Usual rules," he said as he grabbed a blueprint case from by the door. “I know,” I said. He had to get to the construction site. The foreman had to be there on time otherwise the workers would slack a bit. “We’ll clean up and lock up when we leave.” As the door closed, I turned to AJ. “Why did you forfeit?” I asked. “What d’ya mean, why?” she returned, pointing a fork at me. “Ah put ya in a spot where you had t’ compromise yer own promises.” “I would have gone the next day anyway,” I said. “It wouldn’t have been the first time I didn’t make it on her birthday.” Technically true, since the first time I was six and had just broken my arm trying to parachute from the roof with a bedsheet. Lesson learned: parachutes need more than twelve feet to operate correctly. “The point is,” she continued. “Ya should have told me about yer mom’s birthday. I could have asked Sunset to watch the farm for a day. Or you could have, for that matter.” I nodded. “I suppose I just didn’t think it through,” I said, eyes falling on the picture of Mom on the wall over a small side table. “I don’t really think things through easily when it comes to her. Too many questions, and not enough answers. I don’t like asking Dad because you can tell it still hurts inside.” She nodded, and I remembered that she had lost her parents and much more recently than I had in the grand scheme of things. “Ah know how that can tear at a person,” she said slowly, her country twang fading slightly. “How it can feel like ripping open a scab that covers your whole body. But, Dash, you can’t avoid it just because it hurts.” She reached over and covered my hand with hers. “Anytime you feel like you need to come talk to yer mom, you do it, even if you promised to work a field with me. Ah’ll understand.” Her grass green eyes twinkled. “Ah might even come with you.” “Dad’ll just make you cook again,” I said, collecting plates and putting them in the sink, filling it with water. “Neither of us are all that great.” “Ah’m fine with that arrangement,” she said, standing to help with the dishes. “He’s a likable fella. Iffen he were to cut down on th' jokes, Ah’d have no problem comin’ over more.” I laughed as I dunked a plate into the soapy water. Dad had a degree in Dad jokes, but asking him to not tell any would basically render him mute. “I’d like that,” I said. “I want you and Dad to spend time together. He likes you well enough.” “Well, Ah guess that means ya got good taste,” she said, drying a plate with a towel and setting it in the rack. “Well, you do advertise that your apples are second to none,” I said with a smirk. “I can attest to that.” She blushed as she got the connotation. “AJ,” I said. “Thanks for last night. It was nice, and I have kind of a picture of what Mom was like now. I wish I could do something for you in return.” “Ah got a few ideas,” she said, dropping the towel and grabbing me by the arm, leading me back to the bedroom. “First part is you getting comfortable,” she said, giving me a slight push. I settled myself and saw her crawl up beside me, reaching across my stomach and settling her head on my shoulder. “The second is ya hush up and just enjoy,” she said, closing her eyes. “Ah don’t get many days off and I want to enjoy this one.” “Done,” I said, wrapping my arm around her and settling back to enjoy the quiet. I knew right then and there, if she ever needed anything, I’d sacrifice anything to be there for her. She’d done so much for me and I’d done a lot for her, but until the last few days, I hadn’t realized how deeply she cared for me. “Applejack Smith?” She glanced up at the use of her proper name. “I love you to the moon and back,” I said, leaning down to kiss her gently. “Ah had a feeling,” she said with a warm smile as we broke apart. “Ah love you too, Ace.” “Good,” I said. “Cause Dad has this cabin out by Rainbow Falls,” I said. “I’d like to take you there sometime, just you and me and the mountains. Sometime before I have to leave for the camps.” She smiled. “Ah’d like that, Rainbow Danger Dash,” she whispered against my cheek. “Ah’d like that very much.” I smiled as I closed my eyes. So incredibly lucky.