Fashion Plate snuggled back into Rivet’s chest. His movements were tiny and sharp, punctuated with the grunts of stifled hip pain. “If you held him half as well as you’re holding me…” Fashion Plate took two big breaths. “Oof. Sorry. Still a little winded from the dance. But if you held him like this, then I’m sure he knew he was loved.”
Rivet didn’t say anything. He just stared at the ducks down at the pond. They swam together in tandem, never parting by more than a few body lengths. He held Fashion Plate firmly around his middle, feeling his husband’s ragged breathing. He hoped each one would be more regular.
Fashion Plate lazily stroked Rivet’s foreleg. “The kids know how much we love them, Papa Bear. They know what’s coming, and they'll be there to help. Spotlight’s running logistics at the funeral, Glamor has the program all set up, and Forge is nearly done with the centerpiece.” Fashion Plate looked up at his husband and took four more breaths. “I wanted to see it, but he said that it’s not a memorial piece if he finishes it before I–” He saw Rivet’s ears drop and his eyes water. “If he finishes too early before the big show.”
Rivet swallowed. “They’re good kids,” he choked out. He gazed out into nothingness. The ghost of a smile flickered across his face. “Best we could ask for.”
"Of course." Fashion Plate felt heavy, and he studied Rivet. The way that his gentle giant sulked reminded him of a wilting flower. That wouldn't do. Fashion Plate mustered what energy he could, and he sighed dramatically. “Although… There is one thing I feel like an utter failure for.”
“Hm?” Rivet snapped back to attention and looked down. “Hon, you’re a great dad. What’s wrong?”
Fashion Plate kissed Rivet’s hoof. “I’m almost too ashamed to say it.”
“You can tell me anything, love.”
“It’s just…” He sucked in a dramatic breath and buried his face in Rivet’s shoulder. “I can’t believe they all turned out straight,” he mock-sobbed. He looked up at Rivet with big, glassy puppy eyes. “Oh, my love! Where did we go wrong!?”
Rivet snorted a laugh. “Snnnnk, hahaha!” He shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Well, I guess we couldn’t be perfect. Oh, well. They’re still so much more than we could have hoped for.”
Fashion Plate turned his head and nudged Rivet’s shoulder. “And they have you to thank for it.”
“Us.”
For as many times as he’d cut the tension before, Fashion Plate rarely felt the tension cut back. He paused. He looked out at the ducks. They swam back and forth along the pond, never going anywhere, but drifting together, content to merely exist in the same space.
Fashion Plate took another raspy breath. “In that case, we did it, and now they’re–”
“I don’t want you to go, Sparkles.” Rivet’s voice cracked. He refused to look down or let go, despite how sweaty Fashion Plate felt him getting.
Fashion Plate let his head hang. He considered his words. “I… don’t want to go, either, but this is the price we pay, love.” When he didn’t get a response, he continued. “But I don’t think of it like that. We won, Papa Bear. By practically any metric, we got to have it all. A warm home, a lifetime of love, three wonderful children, five grandchildren, maybe more if Spotlight’s coltfriend ever grows a pair and proposes…” He rubbed Rivet’s shoulder with the side of his face. “We got to have it all, love. Even right now. I can’t imagine a more beautiful way to spend one of my last–”
“Don’t say it.”
“I have to, love. It’s going to happen. And I know you’re staying strong for me, and you know that I’m letting you do it, because you’d be mad at yourself if you spent our last days together crying to me about it.” He chuckled warmly through a cough. “And we’ve built up so many fucking layers of understanding at this point that it’s infuriating trying to keep secrets from you. Seriously, you’ve become impossible to surprise at Hearth’s Warming.” He kissed Rivet’s hoof again to disguise another cough. “But in a way, that means we’ve learned what we can, and it’s time to move on to what’s next.”
Rivet finally met his husband’s gaze. He stroked Fashion Plate’s mane, and behind those eyes, he saw both the strength of a pony who cared deeply for him and the fear behind the facade. Rivet shook his head. “What am I gonna do without you, Sparkles?”
Fashion Plate flashed a smile. “Well, for starters, you’ve got a date with Promontory next month on the eighteenth.”
Rivet blinked twice. “A… What?”
Fashion Plate stretched a leg. “Nothing too frou-frou. Dinner at that new gastropub downtown.” He yawned. “The one with the hatchet-throwing lanes. Then you’ve got a carriage ride so you two can talk. And Glamor already said that you’re not invited to the cabin for Hearth’s Warming if you skip out on it, so don’t get cold hooves.”
Rivet shook his mane out. “Wait, a… a date?”
“Yes, dear, try to keep up.” He batted his eyes cartoonishly.
“I… What?” Rivet cleared his throat and focused. “Honey, I appreciate the thought, but… even if you’re…” He wrenched his eyes shut and forced away a thought. “Even if things happen before then, I… I won’t be ready to date again.” He cocked an eyebrow and blew air out of his lips. “And Tartarus, isn’t Tory straight?”
“Oh, honey.” Fashion Plate looked up with soft, condescending eyes and shook his head. “Ooooooh, honey.” He reached up and cradled Rivet’s chin. “You sweet, innocent angel. No no no, after Plum Blossom passed, the gossip is that he’s been experimenting. And he’s already agreed to the date, so he’s interested.”
Rivet scratched at his head. It felt like water had flooded into his skull, and nothing made sense.
Fashion Plate looked back and up. “Oh, come now. Don’t tell me you’re not at least a little excited! Promontory is a hunk of a specimen, even at his age. And from what I hear, he’s quite the gentlestallion. Frankly, I’m jealous you’ll get to know him better.”
Rivet frowned and couldn’t seem to stop shaking his head.
“And think of the fun you’ll have! Somepony to talk shop with, go on… I don’t know, woodworking retreats, I suppose? And after years of being with a delicate flower like myself, I’m sure you’ll enjoy the feeling of another meathead to slap your body against.” Fashion Plate felt the slightest stirring against the base of his back. “Aha! I felt that, sweetie. You do have a certain curiosity. Oh, how devilishly salacious!”
Rivet blushed at his body’s betrayal. His eyes welled up with tears. “I can’t just replace you, Sparkles.”
“Nopony can, darling. It’s not about replacing me.” He tried to turn himself around, but he settled back into Rivet. “It’s about taking care of you. I know how sulky you get when you don’t have a project.”
Rivet looked away. “He’s a pony, love. Not a workbench.”
“But he needs you, and you’ll need him.” Fashion Plate let his eyes close. “Friends were hard to come by in his line of work, and he certainly doesn’t know about queer relationships.” He took a second to catch his breath. “But what he does know is the grieving process. You’ll mentor each other.”
“I’m–” Rivet swallowed. “I’m going to be a wreck, Sparkles.”
“No,” Fashion Plate wheezed. “You’re going to hurt, but you’re tougher than that. You can keep your head about you, even in grief. I’ve seen it.”
=====
It was our first family cruise. It was late summer, and we’d almost canceled it after your father passed away. But you insisted we stick to the plan – Onyx wouldn’t have wanted to interrupt family bonding time. That’s what you said.
But it weighed on you. The kids were… not over it, but young enough that they still couldn’t wrap their heads around it. Fire Forge had just turned twelve, Glamor was ten, and Spotlight was nearly eight. They were still at that beautiful age where it was easy to focus on what was in front of them.
Of course, what was in front of Forge was a giant boat, and we weren’t running up the docks with him to get on it. “Daaaaads, hurry up! It’s going to leave!” He pointed one hoof and tapped another one. His eyes were furrowed, and he just kept grunting. His orange coat shone extra bright in the sunshine of the docks. “I can carry your bags! Just hurry up!”
You chuckled while Spotlight bounced and scrambled around your back like a caffeinated orange-and-blue hedgehog. You called to him, “There’s a line up the ramp, Forge. We won’t board any faster by rushing.”
Glamor levitated her parasol above her with her magic. “Daddy, can you make Forge stop yelling?” The way she carried herself, even at that age, already practically screamed ‘modeling career.’ I would have worried more about her getting sunburned and having it show through her periwinkle coat and caramel-colored mane, but she had that covered. “This is supposed to be a relaxing vacation.”
I smiled down at her and spoke gently, even though I was nudging Spotlight with my magic every three steps to keep her from falling off of you. “Darling, that’s just how he relaxes: by expending all his energy! I can appreciate it, if I do say so myself.”
Glamor rolled her eyes. “He never makes any sense.”
Meanwhile, Spotlight had crawled up your neck and was yelling in your ear about the big water slide, the Typhoon. “I think you can sneak me on! I can probably pretend to be a little taller, and if we get caught, they can’t get rid of us, because they can’t throw us overboard, because that wouldn’t be allowed, and it would make all the guests upset, so I think we can try it! Can we?” She beamed at you while clamped onto your face.
You spoke through the jaw that Spotlight held shut. “They’ll have lots of fun things, Spot.” You exaggerated your speech and shot me a glance. “But I would never break the rules like that.” And you loudly whispered, “Not while your dad is watching.” You just loved pretending to not be the disciplinarian.
You brought the hammer down sometimes, too.
Only when they really got to me. I have the curse of the permissive creative type. Or I was just lazy. Parenting is hard.
Spotlight giggled and hopped down off of you. She grabbed her bag and ran towards Forge, who was at the back of the line on the ramp and trying to see past all the other ponies. We caught up, and a mote of deviant glee sparked at the back of my skull as I watched Forge realize that you had been right.
Once we’d gotten past security, the walk to our room tickled my every sense! The samba music playing in the foyer as we entered, the tantalizing gourmet cookies offered to every passer-by, the luxurious carpets that felt soft enough to be brand new, ponies in hoof-tailored suits offering to help at every turn… Ah! Even in the absolute deluge of ponies walking through the entrance, it felt like we were celebrities!
And the kids were having none of it.
As soon as we walked into our oceanview room, Glamor tugged my foreleg. “Daddy, if we don’t hurry to the pool, the best lounge chairs will be taken!”
Forge grabbed me from the other side. “Yeah! And I don’t wanna have to wait in line for the Typhoon!”
Meanwhile, Spotlight was wordlessly throwing on her swimsuit.
I looked at our luggage, practically begging to be unpacked, then looked at you. Your eyes were half-lidded, and the softness of your face told me that there was no stopping it, so we might as well embrace it.
I beamed. “Well, if you all insist!”
Spotlight and Forge squealed with delight, and even Glamor raced to the bed to tear through her glitter-laced luggage. In the chaos, you cut in, “But I’ll tackle anypony who tries to leave this room without sunscreen.”
Forge took that as a challenge, and to his credit, he almost made it.
Sparkles, not to interrupt your complimenting me, but… you really think I’ll be okay just because I kept the kids from getting sunburned after dad passed?
As much as I admire your heroic devotion to personal safety, Papa Bear, I’m more concerned about what happened at the pool.
I’d been on luxury cruises before, mostly for work, but I’d never been on one oriented towards families.
You chose to spend your twenties with hot, nearly-naked celebrities instead of trapped on a boat with a thousand screaming foals?
Shocking, I know. But the pools on the celebrity cruises had nothing on this one. It was an entire water park on a boat! Besides the Typhoon, which made my stomach drop just looking at it, there were about a dozen water slides, six different pools for all kinds of functions, a lazy river, and a frankly absurd number of hot tubs. The open air kept the chlorine smell from being overwhelming, at least. Even that early into the cruise, sections were already filling up with other eager families.
I was more concerned about etiquette and properly reserving chairs for us. I unfolded our towels nicely with my magic and lay them across a row of five chairs.
We’d barely started settling in before Forge threw his towel on the ground. “Pops, it’s closed! This cruise is stupid.”
We both looked over to a sign in front of the Typhoon. It didn’t operate until the ship left port, apparently.
You snorted at Forge. “Buddy, we’ve talked about calling things stupid.”
“Sorry,” he mumbled. He looked all around, then huffed, “I’m gonna go play water basketball.”
“I wanna come!” Spotlight shouted. She jumped down from the chair where she’d been laying out all her toys.
Forge started to growl something, but he saw you staring at him. He sighed. “Okay, but I’m not letting you win.”
“I won’t let you win, either!” Spotlight puffed out her chest and gave him a giant grin.
“Ha, sure, but… Oh, come on!” He looked back over his shoulder and saw two pegasus colts about his age. They had jumped in with their father and claimed the hoop. “No fair!”
You looked up from our duffel bag. I think you were checking to make sure we had Spotlight’s meds safely out of the sun. You looked between Forge and the hoop. “Well, looks like it’s time to introduce yourself, buddy.”
“I don’t wanna,” he whined. His ears drooped, and he cast his eyes downward.
You looked over to me, gave me a shrug and a smile, and stepped up to him. “Son, are you afraid of making new friends?”
Forge didn’t look up. He shrugged. His tail thrashed once. He sneered at the ground. “...No,” he fumed.
You didn’t miss a beat. “Great! Neither am I. I’m gonna go play some basketball. Coming, Spot?”
Spotlight leapt into the water. “Yeah!” Her small body made a shockingly large splash.
“Cannonball!” You jumped in after her, dousing her again just as she came up for air. She laughed through a few coughs.
Forge sulked over to Glamor and me. He flopped onto his towel on my right side, and from my left, Glamor floated one of her magazines over to him. She spoke softly. “Want something to read, big brother? There’s an article about the Appleloosa buckball team.”
Forge’s ears swiveled to her, but he paused and sneered. “No. But… thanks.” He curled up and sat his head on his forehooves.
“Okay,” she responded quietly. She settled back into her chair, but she kept looking back at him. She left the magazine at the edge of Forge’s seat, just in case.
Through his complaining about the chairs being uncomfortable, Forge sat up and watched you and Spotlight. She was in the middle of a breath-holding contest with the two pegasi colts. You had already struck up a conversation with their father, a gray stallion with a black mane. He was sort of cute, but his mustache took up far too much real estate.
You, however, looked positively radiant. The water came up to your chest, and the little rivulets from your mane traced down your neck and over your body. We’d both put on some weight after the kids were born, but on you, it worked. And more than your jaw-droppingly gorgeous looks, you were in your element again. You were casual, relaxed at the shoulders, and clearly steering the conversation without talking too much. You cracked some joke that had the other dad in stitches, and when the older pegasus colt won their breath-holding contest, he bounced in the water at whatever compliment you gave him.
Forge saw it all, too. He turned towards me, but behind my sunglasses, I don’t think he could see me looking at him. His eyes bored into me, but I didn’t flinch. Even if I didn’t know what it was, I knew you were doing something, and I didn’t want to screw it up.
Glamor, of course, was perfectly content reading her magazine.
A waiter came by and offered us some kind of pineapple cocktail from a tray. I asked if they were family-friendly. He said yes, and I sighed and said I’d take one anyway. Glamor got one, and I asked Forge, “Would you like one, sweetie?”
He paused. “I… don’t think so.”
“As you wish.” I took my drink, then leaned back and resumed pretending to pony-watch.
We both looked back at you. The game had started: foals versus stallions. You and the other dad were having fun throwing your weight around and tackling the foals into the water, but three-on-two was too much, and the kids kept scoring on you. Or maybe you let them score.
Forge watched intensely.
You made a few more plays, then took a break. The foals kept swimming in circles playing some kind of game, and you went back to chatting with the other father. I saw you flinch during the conversation. The pegasus did, too. You quickly said something, and if I had to guess, it was that your father had passed away but you were trying to keep a happy face on for the kids.
Yep. Pretty much.
The pegasus just nodded, cracked some corny joke or other, and you moved on with the conversation. But what happened next still amazes me.
You looked over at Forge. Even with the bright light reflecting off the water, you made sure the two of you had solid eye contact. Then, you smiled at him gently and gave him a little wave.
And that was it. Frankly, it was masterful. You were acknowledging him, letting him know he was missed. But at the same time, you weren’t pressuring him to come in. You wanted him to make the decision on his own: keep sulking, or jump in and have fun. And yet, you weren’t leaving him without guidance: you’d shown him that it was okay to approach a stranger, strike up a conversation, and enjoy whatever fleeting time you had with them. It wasn’t even manipulative. You were a role model. At that moment, I was convinced you could handle even the whiniest prima donna in the fashion world.
Forge didn’t say anything, but it was like a dark cloud had lifted from his spot on the sun deck. He raised his head, saw you and Spotlight again, then stood up. He walked, then ran, then jumped into the water, and every part of his awkward, adolescent body unfolded with curiosity and confidence.
Glamor looked up from her magazine. “Where’s Fire Forge going?”
“He’s making friends,” I replied. I sipped my drink, and it tasted so much sweeter.
Forge swam out and introduced himself to the other colts. Spotlight was ecstatic to have him there. And you fiendishly foxy father, you swam over to help get all of them right back into the fun: a winner-take-all basketball game, earth ponies versus pegasi. Our family ended up winning a long, close game; even though the pegasus colts were older, their wings slowed them down in the water. Watching the three of you celebrate warmed my heart, and when Forge rushed back to ask if I’d seen that awesome play he and Spotlight had pulled, I didn’t know if I could be more pleased.
And I was so, so proud of you, Papa Bear. You walked up behind them, soaked, but with a confident smirk on your face. You knew what you’d done, and you’d rightfully earned that braggadocious swagger. Even with your father’s death in the back of your mind and the weight of watching three foals on a massive vacation, you kept moving forward. You’d taught Forge how to choose happiness, because that’s what you were doing, too.
You’re a great father, Rivet, and a wonderful husband. But you need a reminder every once in a while, too, just like everypony else. So, remember: if you can keep your eyes on what’s in front of you, you’ll be okay. You need only remember to choose happiness.
===