//------------------------------//
// After the Rain 
// Story: Property of West Wind 
// by OleGrayMane 
//------------------------------//

 
Applejack watched the evening sky as she hung her forelegs over the bottom half of the split door. A distant rumble came from the horizon as the storm clouds retreated. The day-long drumming of rain had dwindled to the occasional plop of a fat drop landing on the sodden ground.
“Rain looks like it's stopped, Granny,” Applejack announced as she walked to where her grandmother rested.
“Good,” Granny said. “I don't wanna go from a drought to a flood.”
Applejack chuckled as she hoisted herself onto the couch and settled herself close to the old mare. “Rainbow said it was gonna be a long one to make up for last month, but they'd do their best to keep it under control.”
“They better!” Granny snapped. “Let me tell ya. I'm not at all pleased with the service we've been gettin' this year. Nope, not one bit!” She shook her hoof accusingly. “First blizzards, then droughts. What are they gonna throw at us next? Frogs?”
Applejack suppressed a laugh. “I highly doubt the Weather Patrol is gonna take the time to round up frogs to drop on us, Granny.”
Granny snorted. “Nevertheless, thank your friend for the day's work, but tell her I still ain't pleased. Mercy, what a mess it's been this year. Why, if'n I ran the farm they way they run the weather, there'd be no end to the complainin'. Sometimes I get the notion to get a big ole ladder, climb up to Cloudsdale, and give 'em all a piece of my mind in person!”
“Rainbow says they've been havin' problems she can't explain,” Applejack said. “None of 'em in Cloudsdale can explain it neither. It's almost like the weather gots its own plans. She said they go and build something up, get it goin' all regular like, then it gets out of control. Storms growin' bigger, goin' where they please, clouds wanderin' off on their own”—she shook her head—“the strangest happenings.”
Granny nodded in agreement, and then watched McIntosh sitting across from her, studying his almanac, apparently oblivious to the mares' conversation. She elbowed Applejack and shot her a knowing wink.
“McIntosh,” she said in her finest complaining voice.
“Hmm?” The big pony kept his nose planted in the book.
“McIntosh, do we got enough lumber in the barn to build a ladder that'll reach to Cloudsdale?”
Applejack covered her mouth with both hooves.
“Yur being silly, Granny,” he replied and, unperturbed, continued reading.
“I'm trying to be angry, not silly.” She crossed her forelegs and pouted. “There's a difference ya know.”
“Nope,” McIntosh mumbled. “Silly.”
“Ladder or no ladder,” Applejack said, “I'll make sure Rainbow tells them back in Cloudsdale that you're unhappy. Okay, Granny?”
“Oh, all right,” Granny said. She shivered and adjusted the shawl draped over her shoulders. “It's gittin' a might bit chilly out there. Applejack, could ya please shut the door before I catch a cold?”
Applejack slipped off the couch, shut the top half of the door, and latched it. She ambled back, but took a seat next to her brother.
Granny winked at her again. “Still, a tall ladder might come in handy. Ya never know.”
McIntosh rolled his eyes.
“Oh, pooh!” Granny said. “Yur no fun tonight, Mac.”
Applejack intervened. “No need for ladders nor complaints now, Granny. We've got our rain and it'll hold us for a good long time. The crops will all be looking dandy in a day or two, and we'll barely remember our problems.”
“How can ya forget that it's been such a frustratin' year?” Granny insisted. “Nothin' seems to be working out for the best. Why, if I was superstitious, I'd think this year was cursed.” She paused.
“Wait—” Granny pricked up her ears. “I am superstitious!”
“Lordy,” Applejack sighed quietly. With Granny in one of her moods again, she decided it was best to change the subject of conversation as quickly as possible.
“So, uh, Mac,” she began, “how'd your helper work out today?”
“Yeah,” Granny chimed in, “how'd things go?”
“Fine,” he replied as he turned a page.
Applejack looked at Granny and shrugged her shoulders.
Granny tilted her head to one side. “Just fine?”
“Eeyup.”
“What exactly do ya mean by 'fine'?” Applejack said.
“Tryin' ta read here, AJ.”
“Mac,” she said, “how can ya spend half a day working alone with somepony up in the barn, then sum it all up with the word 'fine'?”
Mac snapped his book closed and turned to her. “We fixed things and West did fine.”
“And that's it? Didn't you two talk about nothin'? Didn't you ask him no questions?”
“I told him what to fetch and what to do, and he did it. That were all the talkin' we needed to do, and that's all the talkin' we done. We got all the work I planned done and maybe a bit more, 'cause we didn't do no useless jawboning.” He opened the book again and mumbled, “He was nice an' quiet. Not like you two.”
Applejack crossed her forelegs. “It was a perfectly reasonable question, McIntosh”—he grunted at her—“seein' how you feel about them bein' here and all.”
Mac pursed his lips. He slapped his book down on the table, stood up, and faced them.
“I know what you two really want to hear. You want me to say I was wrong about them, don't ya?” He alternated his gaze between them. “Well, all right. I was wrong about them. Havin' the three of them helped this year. There was too much for just AJ and myself and havin' them here was the right thing to do.
“Today, West helped me a lot.” He swallowed and held his head high. “And I might not mind bein' helped again.” He waited for either of them to gloat, but the room was quiet.
“There,” Mac declared. “I said it and it's done.” He sat back down, his eyes fixed on Granny.
“Oh, Mac…” she groaned as she shifted on the couch. “We just wanted to know. It weren't our intention to try an' embarrass ya none. Isn't that right, AJ?”
“Yes, Ma'am. Just curious, that's all.”
“Oh.” His ears drooped as he looked down. “Sorry.”
“Nothin' to be sorry about, 'cause I'm glad ya come around, Mac.” Granny pushed herself back on the couch and folded her hooves on her lap. Her face was serious, but her voice was calm. “I'm the one that should be apologizin'. I was being an old fool, teasin' you and such. Probably got ya'll upset, didn't it?”
He said nothing. Applejack cocked her head and peeked at his downturned face, but looked back to the couch as Granny cleared her throat.
“That were quite a speech there weren't it, Applejack?” A devious smile formed on Granny's face.
Applejack returned her smile. “Mighty fine. Purty long too, given the speaker.” She jostled her brother.
McIntosh smiled a bit and let a single harumph escape.
“I'd be carefully of him, missy,” Granny warned. Bother and sister looked at her puzzled. “If'n he keeps this up, he's bound to take away that honesty title from ya.”
With a smirk on his face, Mac gave his sister a playful shove with his shoulder. She leaned against him.
Granny chuckled. “That's more like it.” She clapped her hooves on her thighs. “So, tell me you two, what's planned for tomorrow?”
“Prunin' and tendin' in the south orchards for the next day or two,” Applejack began. “In the afternoon, the fellers will be cleaning up after us there. If we got time, maybe we'll see what to do about some of those trees that ain't doin' so good.” She looked to her brother. “Ain't that right, Mac?”
“Eeyup. Sounds right.”
“Good, good,” Granny said as she nodded. The nodding dwindled off, and her eyelids drooped. Through tired eyes she soaked up the scene across from her. How many times had she watched them quarrel, then, just as quickly, make up? And so gown now, when they were foals just the other day. Regardless of their ages, the scene was the same: A brother and sister working together. As it should be. She smiled peacefully.
“Granny?” Mac asked quietly.
“Umm?” she said, but didn't stir from her drowsy reverie.
“You awake over there?”
“Yes, yes.” Her slow nodding returned. “Just thinking, that's all.”
“''Bout what?” Applejack asked.
“Thinkin' yur both such fine ponies.” Her smile broadened. “Thinkin' yur parents would be proud.”