My eyes slowly flutter open, and I blink the last remaining sleep from my eyes before turning toward my nightstand. The bright red numbers on the digital alarm clock read five twenty-nine, just a minute before it would have woken me up anyway. I turn it off before it could blast its irritating shriek, which would do my headache no favors. Sitting up and stretching happily causes my neck to crack a bit. Didn't help with the headache, but it was pretty good nonetheless.
Looking back down at the nightstand, I spot the crystal glass containing the last drops of the bourbon I'd poured for myself last night. Picking it up, my eyes land on the simple picture frame next to my alarm clock. Katie and I on our wedding day. I'm holding her, and her left hand, the one not holding the elaborate bouquet, is pumped up in a "hell yeah!" kind of pose. I give it a sad smile before tilting my head back and letting the last few drops of the bourbon slide down my throat. It makes me shudder as it burns its way down, but my headache isn't so bad now.
I finally get out of bed and walk out of my room to the door across the hall from mine. It's painted bright pink and has a ton of stickers on it, complete with a sign on yellow construction paper on which is written "Emily's Room" in bright red, loopy letters. Katie's doing. She was the one between the two of us that could write legibly. The pony stickers are Emily's touch, however. I knock on the door once, then open it up and poke my head in.
"Hey Em? Up and at-em, sport. It's time to get ready for school." The lump underneath a bright pink pony comforter moves a bit, and Emily pokes her head out, giving me a bleary look. I chuckle a bit and jerk my head to the door. "Come on. Get dressed. I'll make some eggs and toast."
Emily groans a bit before sliding out of bed. Just as her feet touch the ground, she freezes for a moment, eyes wide, and starts frantically whipping her head around before spotting her yellow and pink pony doll flopped on the ground next to her bed. She picks it up and holds it tight under her arm like she always does, the tension leaving her shoulders. Seriously, if she was sewn to it, I wouldn't be able to tell the difference. She pushes some of the strawberry blonde hair she got from her mother out of her eyes, then starts shuffling over to her closet to get some school clothes. Content that she's getting ready, it’s time to get breakfast going.
I enter the kitchen and immediately get the coffeemaker going before walking over to the sink and grabbing the skillet that's there. It takes a few minutes to scrub away yesterday’s breakfast, allowing me to put it on the stove when I'm content that the skillet is sufficiently clean.
The next few minutes are spent leaning against the kitchen counter and listening to the growl of the coffeemaker and the sizzling of the skillet. A third noise is added to the chorus when I hear Em's plodding steps coming down the stairs. I open up a cabinet and nod in approval when I see that there are still two clean plates, a clean cup and, most importantly, a clean mug. I take all three out and put them on the counter, then open up the silverware drawer where we still have one fork and one spoon. The spoon goes on the smaller plate. I can use that no problem, but I do need to do a few big loads of dishes tonight. Hopefully I'll have time before dinner, but if not, we can just order out, and I can do the dishes once Em is asleep.
I open up the fridge for some cheese just as Em sits down at her usual stool at the counter. I smile at her and pour her some orange juice. "You sleep well?"
"I guess," she mutters, taking a sip of juice.
"Cool, cool." The coffeemaker dings, and I slide the pot out to begin pouring myself a nice, steaming mug. I put the pot back and blow on the coffee a bit before taking it over to the opposite counter and setting it down. I glance over at Em before opening up another cabinet and taking out my half-full bottle of bourbon. Glancing over at Em one more time, I grimace slightly when I see that she's looking at me, squeezing her pony doll even tighter. I let out an inaudible sigh before turning back to my drink and pouring a bit in. Not enough to get any kind of a buzz, but just to sweeten it up and provide a bit of an energy kick in the morning. Taking a sip, my muscles relax, and some of the constant pressure in my chest fade away a bit.
I put the coffee down and go to the stove, where I start sprinkling cheese on the eggs. "So, anything fun at school today?" Em shakes her head, just staring at the counter and squeezing that pony doll. I mix the eggs and cheese, then scoop some onto her plate with my spoon before plopping a fork on it and putting it in front of Em. "You looking forward to hanging out with your friends today? You know, play some, uh, foursquare or wall ball or jump rope, or something like that, yeah?"
"Guess so," Em mutters.
"Sounds great." I start putting the rest of my eggs on my plate, then freeze when a thought hits me. "Oh, shoot, I'm sorry. I forgot to check your homework last night." I shoot her an apologetic look. "Sorry."
"'S okay."
"Ah, but I bet you got all of the answers right anyway," I say, giving her a smile and ruffling her strawberry blonde hair. I flinch back as realization hits me. "Oh, sorry. You just brushed it. Here, let me fix that." I run up to Em's bathroom and grab her hairbrush before running down to fix her hair. Can't have it looking all floofy for school, can we? Em's sitting there nursing her orange juice and picking at her eggs as I work. When I'm content that it looks good again, I put the hairbrush down next to her and pat her head. "Alright. There. All better, yeah?"
"Yeah," Em says. "Thanks."
"Any time, any time. Now, let's..." I look up and see the digital clock on the microwave. It’s somehow already five past six. My eyes widen. "Shiiiii....ooot!" I say, rushing over to my mug and draining the rest of it. "Come on, Em, hurry up! We gotta have you there in ten minutes! And..." Wait... crap. Facepalm. "I haven't made your lunch either.” Em opens her mouth to say something, but I wave it away. "No, it's fine. I'll just get you something from the store and drop it off with you later. Come on, eat! Eat!"
Em starts eating faster, and I tilt the mug back, hoping to get a few final drops out before putting it in the sink. Em still isn't done with her food, so I throw the pantry door open and take out the last sandwich sized ziplock bag in the box, which I quickly scoop the rest of Em's eggs into. "You can eat in the car. Let's go!"
Em takes the bag, and I grab her backpack off of the dining room table. Within a minute, we're in the car, and I'm backing out of the garage. Thank goodness the school is so close. We still might be a few minutes late, but nothing too ridiculous. Lots of kids are a few minutes late, I'll bet.
The car is silent for a few minutes, so I turn on the radio to see what kind of news is going on. It's not like Em and I are going to have a thrilling conversation.
"--after the initial success of the so-called 'ponypads' created by Hofvarpnir Studios, the company behind the critically and commercially acclaimed A.I.-centered game The Fall of Asgard. Equestria Online is said to have an artificial intelligence similar to Asgard's Loki, which helps the players 'satisfy their values through friendship and ponies' according to the studio. Players create a pony avatar for themselves which are then given a pony name by the A.I. in the game, after which point, the player can do what they choose. Centers devoted to the game have begun opening up around the country.
I scoff and look at Em through the rear view mirror. "Sounds like it's right up your alley, huh, Em? Get to be a pony and live in ponyland with your buddies."
"Equestria," Em says quietly as she looked out the window.
"Right. Equestria. I remember now. Yeah, you could play in Equestria." Given her love for her pony show, it probably wouldn't be the worst idea to look into one of these 'ponypads.' See how much they cost, and all that. Her ninth birthday was in a month and some change. She'd probably love it. She could actually play with the virtual version of that pony doll of hers. She talks to it a lot when she thinks I’m not around, so it would be cool for her if she could talk to a version that responds.
We reach the school with a minute to spare, and Em unbuckles her seat belt and opens her car door, taking her backpack and her pony doll with her. I watch her walk up to the school door, where she's met by one of her teachers. The teacher opens the door for her, then starts walking up to my car. I give her a smile and nod as I roll down my window.
"Mrs. Meachum. How are things going with you?"
"Well enough, thank you." She reaches the car and crosses her arms at me. Ugh. I would have thought the disappointed teacher thing would have stopped once I graduated college. "Mr. Winters, you missed the last parent/teacher conference. Again."
I frown and tilt my head. "That was next Friday, I thought.”
"Last Friday."
"Oh." Dang it. That’s right. "Uh, next Friday work for you, though?"
"Hm. If you can find time in your 'busy schedule', then maybe so."
"It's a plan, then."
"There's also the matter of you needing to sign your daughter's permission slip for the zoo trip. That's due tomorrow."
"That's right, still haven't done my homework yet.” Mrs. Meachum's expression doesn't change, and my smile fades. "Yeah, I'll get right on that. Can't I just give you permission now? I mean, she does have my permission to go."
"We need a physical copy, Mr. Winters, you know that," Mrs. Meachum says.
I give her a small salute. "I'll get that done and drop it off with her tomorrow."
"If you say so." Her expression actually softens a bit. "Mr. Winters, I know things have been hard lately. I think you need some help."
"None for me, thanks." I grimace and drum my fingers on the steering wheel. "Doing just fine. Once we get the hang of getting ready in the morning, this will all be a well-oiled machine. Yep yep yep." I take a deep breath and turn back to her. "Thanks for making sure the other kids don't make fun of her for the pony doll. It helps a lot."
"You're welcome, Mr. Winters. But seriously, if you need--"
"All good. Just adjusting is all." A quick glance at the clock on the dash gives me a prefect out for this conversation. "Gotta head on over to work now. I'll get the permission slip all settled."
With that, I speed off.
* * * *
The clock hits seven five seconds after I sit at my desk. I breathe a sigh of relief and pull my project up. If the boss pokes his head into my cubicle, he'll see a good employee hard at work. That's me. I'm about to get started when my next-cubicle-neighbor pops his head out from over the wall.
"Just made it, I see."
"Don't know what you're talking about, Tyler. I've been here for the past ten minutes being a good employee."
Tyler snorts and rolls his eyes. "Sure. Doesn't matter. You still up for our get-together Friday?"
"Definitely. Wouldn't miss it. Your turn to buy, though."
Tyler grimaces and shakes his head. "How are you better than me at darts nearly blackout drunk than I am sober?"
"Practice makes perfect. Anyway, we'd better get started."
"Guess so. Friday, then."
"Friday."
As Tyler sits down, a thought strikes me, and I pull the internet up. Let's see what these ponypads are going for.