Anyone who looked at Bright Mac as he was now, barrelling down the street to the Hollow Leg, would think he was either sick or off his rocker.
His heart was thumping out of his chest. Every inch of his body was shaking. His voice was nearly gone from all the shouting he'd been doing. His pupils had dilated to the point where they were barely visible. He could barely breath. He wasn't sure if he was beaming with pride or if he was grimacing in abject terror. It could be either at this point. After all, both emotions were roiling around in his brain. After the news he just got, it was completely understandable.
Bright Mac was scared stiff. Bright Mac felt like he was ten feet tall. If he was sick or crazy, he never wanted to get well.
He burst into the Hollow Leg Tavern and the smell of mahogany and freshly brewed beer washed over him like the tides. He always loved that smell, but today he barely noticed it. Every face in the bar turned to the loud thud of the batwing doors slamming hard against the wall. Bright Mac looked around the room to see if he could find the two ponies he was looking for. Eventually he did. They were sitting at the bar, ordering another round. A young hotshot with slicked-back hair and a loose tie around a shirt collar and a rustic looking stallion with a grey mane and the ghost of a mustache beginning to appear on his lip. They were the only ones who didn't turn to face Bright Mac when he walked in.
"I'm telling you Burnt," the Slicked-Back hotshot began. "Its a good investment. I've already made a killing."
"Well congratulations, Filthy," Burnt Oak replied.
"Rich...," Filthy Rich replied solemnly. "It's... It's just rich."
"Not to anyone who knows you," Burnt replied. "Anyway, what would I do with that much money, anyhow? Assuming that this 'chain store' thing of yours don't crash and burn."
"What would I do with that kind of money?' he asked.
" Filthy rich scoffed. "Only two things to do. Spend it or save it. And you..."
It was then that they noticed Bright Mac's presence. Standing behind them, grinning like a damned fool.
It took them a bit to assess Bright Mac's expression. Filthy Rich broke the silence first. "Alright," he said. "You've known him longer than I have. Is he happy or stressed?
"Naw, he's happy," Burnt Oak replied. "If he was stressed there'd be more alcohol."
"Good to know my antenna's good for something," Filthy nodded. "So what is he happy about? To look at him you'd swear he just got lai-"
"Don't... Don't do that alright?" Burnt raised a hoof to stop his friend. "Besides, he's a married stallion. He's not getting that excited after what would probably be a regular occurrence."
"Regular occurrence," Filthy laughed. "Do me a favor, Burnt. Write that sentence down and take a look at it after your fifth year of marriage..."
"Marriage... That's it," Burnt seemed to be getting closer to the truth, much to Bright Mac's delight. "I haven't seen him with that much of a goofy grin on his face since the honeymoon... Could anything make him that happy again?"
"Eeyup," Bright Mac said, finally managing to eke out an audible noise of confirmation.
Filthy Rich's eyes widened. "He's getting monosyllabic on us," he said. "Should we be concerned?"
"Oh wow..." Burnt Oak put his hoof over his mouth. "I've only seen him get like this one other time... When he was talking to me about Pear Butter for the first time... So unless he's met another girl..."
"Which, in my opinion, would make this entire conversation a thousand times more interesting," Filthy Rich added.
"I think... No... I know..." Burnt Oak smiled and turned to the bartender. "Will someone please pour my friend a drink? He's about to become a father."
"YES!!" Bright Mac screamed, pumping his hoof in the air, and dancing around the bar like an idiot. He needed to hear someone else say it. He needed someone outside the situation to look at him and say those words. Now it was real. Now it was happening. Now he could let himself get excited.
After three wonderful years of marriage, Pear Butter was...
Pregnant.
Pregnant.
The next word that Pear Butter needed to write down was "Pregnant."
It was a grim annual tradition for Pear Butter, now going by "Buttercup," to write a letter to her estranged father. This letter would tell him all of the news of her life since he left it, and beg him to be a part of her family again. It was hard for him... She understood that. She had no regrets about what she did, but it wasn't very fair to him. After feuding with the Apples for years, the Pear family had decided to move away from Ponyville... But Pear Butter stayed behind. She had fallen in love with and married the Apples' oldest son, Bright Mac.
And now she was... Pregnant.
She felt more like she needed her father now than at any other time in her life.
Bright Mac was so excited... She would have been too if she wasn't so terrified. She was still very young... Not even into her late twenties, and Bright Mac worked. A lot. He worked often and very hard. She would, in essence be raising this foal alone for a lot of the time. She didn't know if she could handle that... Scratch that, she was damn near positive she couldn't handle that.
She put the pen down, covered her eyes, and thought about crying.
She was just about to start when she heard a voice from just outside the room. "Can... uh...," the shaky drawl started. "Can we talk for a minute?"
The presence of the voice nearly pushed her into openly weeping. The relationship with her Mother-In-Law had been... icy, to say the very least. The couple had moved into the farm with her. The farm they would eventually inherit. But the feud between the Pears and the Apples was... bitter. Bitter on both sides. So inviting a Pear into her home, and watching her own son dote on her constantly was difficult for Granny Smith.
Pear Butter quickly composed herself and looked up. "Yes," she said. She never knew how to start with Granny Smith. "Yeah... Yeah, that's fine."
"I...," Granny Smith started. "I haven't been rightly fair to you, since you moved in."
Pear Butter was shocked to hear that from her. She just sat there, mouth agape, and let Granny Smith continue.
"I never liked your pa," she said quietly. "You knew that... But I never really tried to get to know you. That ain't right. My boy ain't easily swayed, and he's a darn good judge of character. If he likes you... If he loves you... You can't be all bad. Probably ain't bad at all."
" Well... " Pear Butter started. "Neither is Dad... Really... I know it--"
"No," Granny Smith said firmly. "He raised you right young'un... But your pa is a nasty piece of work."
Pear Butter was taken aback... Granny Smith meant that more earnestly than anything she had said in the feud up until that point.
"Bright Mac could've married Nightmare Moon," Granny Smith continued. "I could've found eight dead bodies in his room when he was ten. He could've come at me with a hoofin' butcher knife. There ain't no excuse for turning' your back on your foals. Ain't none."
Pear Butter was starting to tear up again.
"And I could have even understood him walking out on the wedding," Granny Smith said quietly. "When you're angry, you forget yourself. Heck, I almost did... But you have done your damnedest to bring him back into your life... He's had three years to calm down. There just... There ain't no excuse for doing that to family."
Pear Butter closed her eyes. She didn't know what to feel anymore.
"Well," Granny Smith straightened up. "You're an Apple now. You're part of my family. And I aim to take good care of you. And that bun in your oven. Heck, you can even call me 'Momma' when you want to. So if you got any questions to a Mare that's been through this before, just go right ahead and ask them."
Buttercup was seconds away from breaking down.
"More importantly, Buttercup..." Granny Smith reached out and touched Buttercup's hoof. "How are you feeling?"
That did it. "Oh, Momma, I'm just so scared..." She fell into her Mother-in-law's arms, weeping. "I just don't know what to do... I just... I can't do this alone... I can't."
"Shh... Shh...," Granny Smith said quietly. "Now, who said you'd be doing this alone?"
"Bright Mac is working most of the day," Buttercup said desperately.
"We can hire some hands," Granny Smith explained. "The orchard's darn important, but nothing's more important than kin."
"I don't feel like I even really grew up," Buttercup sniffed. "How am I supposed to raise a baby..."
Granny Smith gave a little laugh. "Sugarcube, what you just did was echo the thoughts of every mother since the beginning of time... Including me."
Buttercup took another sharp sniff, and looked up at Granny Smith.
"We all get scared," Granny Smith continued. "It's a big step in your life... And there ain't no way to train for motherhood. There's a lot of trust involved. You got to trust the doctors, the father... And you got to trust yourself, too."
Buttercup leaned back and brushed the tears out of her eyes.
"Now, a few pieces of advice," Granny Smith sat a little straighter, as if preparing to teach a class. "Your body is going to go through hell. Sorry about that, but it is. You're gonna feel sick in the morning, and sore at night. An when it comes time, take all them drugs they give you. My hubby didn't believe in them. And when it comes time for me to join him in Paradise, he's owed a swift whupping with a Hickory Switch."
Buttercup laughed, but took mental notes regardless.
"Second, you’re going to be emotionally... off," Granny Smith said, obviously trying to put something difficult into words. "Things are gonna make you cry that wouldn't, if your head was right. Just remember, when that happens, it's Bright Mac's fault, until you're back to normal. Trust me, it helps."
Buttercup's tears were all but a memory now, but she still had a question to ask. One she felt ashamed of even thinking about, but it was going to be there in her mind until she said something. "Is it worth it?" she finally said out loud. "Is... Is it worth all of this?"
Granny Smith nodded. "Yep," she said confidently. "You can tell that because some mares want to go through all of this again."
Buttercup smiled at this thought, but leaned back. "I'm sitting here terrified," she scoffed. "Bright Mac is probably still on cloud nine."
"Right about now," Granny Smith put her hoof on Buttercup's. "He's just as terrified."
"Wanna bet?"
"Hey! Is anyone else having trouble breathing?!" Bright Mac asked frantically. "Just me?!"
The fear had overtaken the excitement around five minutes ago. Bright Mac came to the horrifying realization that very soon, someone's life was quite literally going to depend on him. Him, the stallion who, with the two friends he was sitting beside, accidentally lit a house on fire while trying to paint it. How? How did that happen?! But he had grown up since then... Right? He’d certainly got older, but as for maturing, the jury was still out on that one.
"You're gonna be fine," Burnt Oak reassured him."
"Wait a minute... Wait... Yup... Yes..." Bright Mac nodded. "My heart has stopped."
"If your heart had stopped you'd be dead, Bright Mac," Filthy Rich commented.
"You ain't a doctor, Filthy!" Bright Mac said harshly.
"What the hoof are you so worried about, Mac?" Burnt Oak asked. "You're one of the most responsible ponies I know."
"I have to, in the next eighteen years, take a creature that can't walk, talk, or use the bathroom right, and somehow transform it into a productive member of society," Bright Mac seethed. "It don't matter a damn if I'm responsible! I have to be a magician, and do you see a horn on this head?!"
"Your parents did a decent job raising you," Filthy continued, "You're not a complete idiot."
"First of all, thanks a lot," Bright Mac said sardonically. "Secondly, my parents raised a little colt. You know they come in two types, right?"
"What would be so bad about a filly?" Burnt Oak asked.
"Because I've never been a little filly," Bright Mac replied.
"Up for debate," Filthy Rich said.
"Shut up," Bright Mac added quickly. "If she took after Buttercup, that'd be a handful on it's own, but for Celestia's sake, what if she takes after Ma?! I've heard stories of timberwolves, and staying out until the small hours, and who knows what else she got up to!"
"Your dad, probably," Filthy Rich added.
"Shut. Up," Bright Mac said through gritted teeth. "And all of that is ignoring the fact that any time she comes up to me and asks me a question about her body, or dealing with boys, or anything like that, my intelligent response is going to be 'Duh... Ask your mother.'"
"And we'll all pretend that wouldn't be the case regardless," Filthy Rich added.
"That's it!" Bright Mac shouted. "I'm putting a curse on you. May you be the father of daughters." That got a laugh from his two friends.
"Okay, look," Filthy Rich said. "You've got the easy part. After a fun night, at least I hope it was a fun night, in nine months you are going to have this adorable little foal, who worships the ground you walk on, and wants to be just like you! Buttercup is the one who has to go through all of the morning sickness, and the screaming and the sore ankles. Kick back and relax."
That horrifying thought hadn't occurred to Bright Mac until now. "Oh sweet Celestia," Bright Mac said. "You're right."
"He is?!" Burnt Oak said, stunned.
"Hey!" said Filthy Rich happily. "There's a first time for everything, isn't there?"
"I just left!" Bright Mac put his hooves in his mane. "I got overexcited and just ran off! I just left her there! What kind of worthless husband am I to even-- I gotta get home. Soon as possible." Bright Mac frantically prepared to leave.
"Burnt," Filthy said calmly. "Remind me never to get married."
"Yeah, like it's that easy," Burnt Oak scoffed as Bright Mac slipped on some spilled beer and quickly righted himself. "A mare will hook you one day. You mark my words."
"Too wild to tame, that's me," Filthy smirked as Bright Mac fumbled for his wallet to pay off the ciders. "I'll prove how much of a stud I am. Any Mare in this bar, I will take home tonight. You pick her."
"All right..." Burnt Oak straightened up and looked around the bar, as Bright Mac tried to get the bits out of his wallet but wound up dropping them on the floor. "Ice Queen in the corner. The one who's been looking at us like we're rodeo clowns all night."
"Pink coat, purple mane?" Filthy Rich asked, as Bright Mac paid the tab. "Cutie Mark like a diamond ring?"
"Yep," Burnt Oak said, as Mac slipped on the beer again.
As Mac was finally out the door, he could hear Filthy say. "You know... She's pretty cute..."
Bright Mac sprinted the entire way home to find his wife sitting on the porch swing, knitting something, seeming somewhat content. This was unnerving for two reasons. Buttercup didn't know how to knit, and if Bright Mac was in this state, what in Tartarus was keeping her so calm? She looked up and gave him a smile. The smile he lived for. The kind of smile that lights up a room that you didn't even realize was dim. It helped calm his nerves.
"I didn't even know you could knit," Mac panted.
"I can't," Buttercup said frankly. "It was supposed to be baby socks, but..." She held up a three foot long rectangle of material. "I got a little carried away. It's a scarf now."
Bright Mac laughed a little, then ran next to the porch swing and knelt down. Holding his wife's hoof. "Honey, I am so sorry I just ran out," he said pleadingly. "I just got so excited when you told me the news... I..."
"I understand, it's alright," Buttercup said quietly, touching his cheek. "I still need to tell my friends. I know Chiffon will hit the roof... Sorry, Cup Cake soon. Oh, and our invitations came today."
"Invitations?" Bright Mac said, sitting on the porch swing and putting an arm around her. "Oh, right. She's getting married to that... Carrot Stick fella."
"Carrot Cake," Buttercup corrected. "And it's the least we can do after all she's done for us."
"I'll be there, in my best tux," Bright Mac reassured her.
"You'll be there in a rented tux," Buttercup clarified. "You aren't showing up to my best friend's wedding in that garish plaid nightmare."
Bright Mac gave a hearty laugh at that one. The tuxedo was truly terrible.
"No, I haven't really told anyone except..." The air around Buttercup suddenly soured. "I sent a letter to Dad... I told him."
Bright Mac held his wife a little more tightly.
"He's gotta write back this time, right?" Buttercup said, obviously not really believing it. "It's his Grandkid.... He's gotta write back..."
"Of course he does," Bright Mac said, keeping up the lie for his wife's sake. "Of course he will..."
Buttercup thanked him silently, and then continued. "Mac, I'm scared," she said earnestly. "I don't know if I can do this..."
"Be a Momma?" Bright Mac said. "Of course you can. Mothers have to be kind, which is everything I love about you. Stern when the moment comes to it, and that's you with the tuxedo back there... And you have to be able to listen to the foal when he's having trouble... The fact that you were able to do that for me is the only thing that ever kept me sane... There's no doubt about it, you're going to be a great mom."
Buttercup laid her head on her husband's shoulder, and smiled. "Fathers are supposed to be strong, and there is no respect in which you don't fit that description... They're supposed to be funny, which you are, ever since I've known you," she snuggled in tighter. "Fathers are supposed to be supportive... And you help me keep up the fantasy about Dad. You'll be fine... We'll be fine. And so will Big McIntosh."
"Big... Mcintosh?" Bright Mac asked bewildered.
"Or Applejack, if it's a girl," Buttercup smiled.
"I get no say in this, do I?" Bright Mac laughed.
"Well, if you have any ideas for names..." Buttercup closed her eyes.
Bright Mac looked at his wife, and touched her chin to raise her head to eye level. "I was thinking Pear Bloom for a girl."
Buttercup gave a sad smile. "No," she said softly. "No... Thank you, but no. I'm not a Pear anymore. Dad made that perfectly clear. We'll be raising Apples. And that's fine."
Bright Mac couldn't take it anymore. This was obviously killing her. The Pears were as close as the Apples were, until this happened. "Wait here," he said, as he left the porch swing to go behind the farmhouse.
"Where are you going?" Buttercup asked, as Bright Mac found the two potted saplings he kept behind the house. He kept one behind his back, and one in front of him as he walked back to the porch. "
He presented the first sapling to his wife. "It’s in decent condition," Buttercup said frankly. "You should put it in the orchard with the rest of the Apple trees..."
Bright Mac grinned and produced the second sapling. Pear Butter put her hoof over her mouth and started to tear up.
"I don't know how well I've been taking care of it," Bright Mac said nervously. "I know what I'm doing with an Apple tree, but I had to research how to take care of a Pear tree..."
"It's a little dry," Buttercup choked, as she came closer to examine the sapling. "But for a first try, it's a really good attempt."
"You can help me from now on," Bright Mac said softly. "I've got a little place in the orchard. We plant them, side by side, and if we're doing this right they'll grow into each other... Come together to make something new."
Buttercup closed her eyes.
"And when both of our families are ready," Mac smiled. "We'll set aside some room in the orchard for a few Pear Trees."
Pear Butter looked up at Bright Mac. "Why?" she said quietly.
"Because I love your family," Mac said frankly. "You're a part of your family. Our kids are going to be part of your family. And I wouldn't have it any other way."
Pear Butter gave her husband a soft smile.
"So we plant the trees, we watch them grow together, and our kids..." Bright Mac couldn't help but smile at the thought. "They'll grow with them."
Bright Mac was surprised when his wife wrapped him in a sudden tight embrace.
"You know something?" she said tearfully. "I just realized how perfect our baby is going to be..."