//------------------------------// // Chapter Three // Story: Dinner with the Folks // by RK_Striker_JK_5 //------------------------------// Lyra leaned back on her favorite bench, her favorite lyre hovering a foot away from her, her telekinesis strumming the strings in an almost lazy fashion. Ponies wandered by, some of them tossing bits or jangles into her saddlebags set at her hooves. She occasionally waved a foreleg to wave at some of the ponies, but her mind kept wandering back to the Confectionarium and the pony there. A happy sigh escaped her lips. For a moment, she debated whether or not to stay in the park, go back home or go see her fathers for lunch. The darkening skies quickly removed the first option, and her rumbling stomach convinced her that the final option was best. She slid off the bench, placed her saddlebags back on and waved to Raindrops in the sky before trotting off, lyre floating behind. She quickly arrived at a two-story building with a green roof, a pair of bay windows and an advertising sign hanging right above the door. The sign was simple, the vertical arrangement of a quill, a plus sign and a sofa underneath it. She smiled before walking through the door, a bell hanging right above the doorjamb jingling as she entered. Inside was a large room taking up almost the entirety of the first floor. Furniture was all about, sectioned off into couches, sofas, beds, dressers, tables and other pieces, all on a carpeted floor. Lining the wall was a wide selection of quills, inkwells, stacks of parchment and scrolls. Several ponies were scattered about, a couple of foals even bouncing up and down on a mattress. Four of the ponies in the main showroom wore identical white shirts, blue jackets and name tags, each one attending to customers or doing other work. And behind the register stood a middle-aged earth pony stallion named Davenport, with a slicked-back brown mane, matching tail and the cutie mark of a quill above a sofa. His green eyes glanced over to Lyra and his mouth turned up in a smile. Lyra returned the smile and waved as he finished up with his current customer. She walked over to a chair, looking it over and rubbing her chin as she looked over the design pattern. Her eyes lifted as Davenport walked over. “Hey, Dad,” she said, grinning widely. Davenport canted his head to the right, looking at the chair. “You know, one of these days I'm gonna sell this piece,” he remarked, returning his daughter's grin. “Then where are we gonna meet when you walk in?” Lyra eyed him. “Dad, you've had this chair since you opened the store. I don't think they even make this pattern anymore.” A low chuckle escaped her. “Besides, if you did, where would we meet when I visit?” Davenport rolled his eyes, but quickly drew his daughter into a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. “Glad you're here.” He glanced over at one of his assistants. “Bottom Dollar, I'll be taking an hour lunch this time.” At the assistant's nod, he moved off, but a peal of thunder from outside stopped him in his gait. He looked to one of the bay windows and the gathering storm outside. His ears flattened against his skull. “I hope Tinny's all right in this,” he murmured. Lyra patted him on the shoulder. “Don't worry. I'm sure Pop's already on his way here.” Another rumble stopped her in her tracks. “Hopefully, probably, definitely.” The pair made their way to the back of the showroom and through a door in the wall, emerging into a small stairway landing with steps leading down into storage and up into the main living area. Along the back wall was a door leading to the outside. Lyra and Davenport waited at the landing for a few minutes, glancing to the door. Soon enough the door's lock clicked and the door opened, allowing a gray-coated stallion named Tin Taylor to walk through, a key shakily floating in front of him. He wore an orange jacket, a yellow hardhat over his violet-covered mane and a pair of saddlebags slung over his back and loin with several tools sticking out of them. His hat floated off, revealing a short horn wreathed in magical energy. Davenport's face brightened and he trotted forward, wrapping his forelegs around Tin's neck in a hug. “Tinny!” he exclaimed, grinning madly. Tin raised his own forelegs, returning the hug. “Hi, Davey!” He broke from the hug and gave Davenport a brief kiss. “Had to gallop the last length here.” He glanced back to the door as the rain began pouring down. “Had to make sure everything was set at the site before coming back for lunch.” He looked to Lyra and smiled. “Hey, kid.” Lyra grunted, but her eyes shone. “Don't call me 'kid', Pop.” Tin returned the grunt. “Don't call me 'Pop', kid.” And with that, he wrapped his arms around Lyra. “Great to see you!” He reached up, ruffling Lyra's mane slightly with a hoof. Davenport let out a sigh and shook his head. “Now that your little ritual is done, shall we adjourn to upstairs?” He stepped back and motioned to the stairs leading up. “I've got lunch all ready upstairs.” He looked to his hsuband and daughter. “Hungry?” Tin opened his mouth, but a low growling from his midsection spoke for him. He chuckled, his cheeks reddening. “I guess that answers that question.” “So we've got several requests from the Farmer's Union for contracts on upgrades to their irrigation systems, silos and whatnot. Meanwhile Sweet Apple Acres has another list of contracts drawn up for us.” Tin rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “Big Boss is either gonna have a panic attack or perpetual bit signs in his eyes. My money's on the latter, followed by the former. Then a nice long vacation for all of us.” Both Lyra and Davenport chuckled. The three were sitting in the upstairs apartment around a table, plates of food and a glass of lemonade in front of them. Lyra floated a fork to her plate and speared a cucumber slice with it before levitating it up to her mouth. She ate it in one gulp and let out a small gasp. “Sliced to perfection, Dad,” she said, glancing to Davenport. Davenport let out a snort. “Yes, my ability to wield a knife is second to a lot of ponies out there.” He flashed a smile. “Thanks, Lyra. So what are you and Bonbon up to?” He rubbed his chin between bites. “I haven't seen her much since the Longest Night Celebration...” His body shuddered slightly at the memory of that day, causing Tin to reach out with a hoof and pat him on a foreleg. “Thanks, Tinny,” he said, looking across to his husband and smiling. Tin returned the smile before focusing on a pitcher of lemonade. His eyes narrowed, his horn glowed and the pitcher wobbled slightly as it lifted off the table, tilting slightly to pour the lemonade into Tin's glass. Lyra leaned forward, but remained silent as her father concentrated, finally settling the pitcher down onto the table with a thunk as he slumped down into his chair. Lyra reached over and patted Tin on the shoulder. “Nice job, Pop!” she exclaimed. Tin let out a sigh. “Thanks, Kid.” His eyes crossed slightly as he glanced at his stubby horn. “The exercises have helped a lot.” His gaze drifted back to Lyra. “So, back to Davey's question about you and Bonbon?” he said, smirking slightly. Lyra's eyes darted back and forth between Davenport and Tin. A nervous chuckle escaped her. “B-Bonbon and I? Well... things are great!” she exclaimed, throwing both forelegs into the air. “We had a nice, romantic dinner last night at Berry Punch's bar,” she said, her forelegs dropping and a dreamy look forming on her face. “And then after...” Her voice trailed off and she coughed into a hoof. Davenport chuckled. “We get the drift, Lyra.” he leaned to his right, close to Lyra. “So when are you popping the question, precisely?” Tin nodded. “You two sure as hay seem like you're headed in that direction.” He looked to Davenport and smiled before looking back to Lyra. Lyra slid down in her seat under her fathers' stares. “Well...” She let out a groan and rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “Popping the question is a bit off. In the future. As in not at the moment.” Davenport shifted a bit in his chair. “So... in the future you're planning to ask for Bonbon's hoof in marriage?” “Yes... no... I don't know!” Lyra leaned forward, rubbing her forehead right below her horn. “I don't know,” she half-whispered. “What I've got with Bonbon is great, just about perfect for me. And it's going so great, with life and my busking and us together above the Confectionarium and being an Element of Harmony and having the two best dads in the world. And I just... why change it? Why screw around when I've got it so good?” A wan smile crossed her lips. “I know, I know. Things change. They can't stay the same all the time, even if I want them too.” There was silence for a minute before Tin spoke. “Well, you're right. Things change, but it doesn't have to be for the worse.” His eyes locked onto Davenport. “Davey and I had it great for a while... but things began to change. We grew even closer. He opened Quills and Sofas and I was promoted. And then thanks to Skyla, you came into our lives,” he said, his voice hitching slightly at the end. “I'd have to say those were some good changes.” Lyra glanced down at her plate. “Yeah, I guess you're right.” She reached out to both Davenport and Tin. “I love you.” Both Davenport and Tin reached out to their daughter, wrapping their forelegs around her shoulders in a hug. “We love you, too,” they both said. The two fathers eventually broke the embrace, settling back into their chairs. “You might wanna talk to Bonbon about this,” Davenport said between bites. “I'd bet my entire stock she'd feel about the same as you.” Lyra shrugged. “Well, maybe. Although I shudder to think what advice Honeydew or Curry would give her.” Davenport opened his mouth, but hesitated for a moment. “Well, it would be a good idea to get those two in on any discussions about marriage, at least before you're related to them.” Lyra's lips twitched, but her right eyebrow cocked slightly. “Well...” Her eyes glanced from Davenport to Tin and finally to the table in front of her. “What would you two say to meeting up with Bonbon and her parents for dinner?” Tin leaned back slightly. “I'd say... it has been a while since we've actually had any conversation with Honeydew or Curry beyond the barest of greetings.” He looked to Davenport. “What do you think?” Davenport nodded. “I think my social calendar's free,” he said, nodding. Lyra let out a sigh and floated her unfinished daisy sandwich up to her snout, finishing it off with a few bites and downing her glass of lemonade. “This should be fine,” she said, her eyes suddenly widening. “Or a total disaster.” She looked to her fathers as they finished their own lunches. Davenport tilted his head to the side, his eyes twitching. “I think both. Either way, should be a night we won't soon forget.” After a few minutes Davenport slid off his chair, collecting the now empty plates, stacking each one on his back and bringing them to the sink for later. He looked to a clock on the wall. “Business calls.” His head turned as Tin walked over. “Heading back to the site? It's pouring buckets out there!” Tin's eyes glanced to the ceiling as the rattle of rain could be heard on the roof. His horn glowed and an umbrella wobbled over. “I've still got paperwork to go through,” he said, leaning over and nuzzling Davenport. “I didn't know you cared,” he joked. Davenport nuzzled back, smiling, but his expression darkened as he looked to the table and Lyra still sitting there. “Lyra, you all right?” Lyra looked up at the two stallions. “I'm fine, Dad,” she said, nodding to him. “You two get back to work. I'll clean up here for you before heading back home.” The two fathers exchanged a glance before walking over to Lyra, Davenport on her right and Tin on her left. They both rose up on their hind legs and wrapped their forelegs around her in a hug, holding it for a minute before letting go and walking out. Lyra sat there for a few minutes, staring up at the ceiling. “Hey, Bonbon, free Saturday?” she muttered. “Only a few life-altering things to talk about with our parents that will affect the rest of our lives. Nothing too big. Nothing too big at all.”