//------------------------------// // Dinner With the Family // Story: The Next in Line. // by gmoneywalker //------------------------------//         “Here you are sir, Istallion style rice and vegetables, please enjoy.”  You smile and thank the waitress as she places a steaming plate of warm vegetables in front of you.  She nods in appreciation before using her unicorn magic to top off your father’s iced tea.  “Anything else I can help you all with?” “Nothing for me,”  you reply, casting a curious gaze towards your parents at the opposite end of the table.  “Either of you?”  Your father and mother shake their heads, happily munching away at the food they’d ordered a few moments ago.  You turn to Rarity, who is busy meticulously ordering her silverware into their proper positions.  You had to repress the urge to giggle at that little detail, proper manners at all times, it seemed.  “What about you, Rare?  Need anything else?” The fashionista looks up from her meticulously crafted line of forks and spoons, blue eyes wide with surprise, as if she hadn’t heard you properly at first.  “What?”  You motion with a nod of your head towards the waitress, who is standing beside the table, patiently waiting for any further requests.  Rarity suddenly snaps back into reality.  “O-oh!  No, nothing else, thank you very much ma’am.”  The slight nervous jolt in her tone of voice brings a smile to your face, apparently organizing silverware is an incredibly engrossing activity, if Rarity’s total space-headedness is any indication.   You wouldn’t know, after all; being an earth pony meant you ate with your mouth, you couldn’t even use silverware, it just didn’t work.  To be honest you don’t really understand the point of all that nonsensical cutlery.  Food goes into a mouth last time you checked.  Why use a fork when it’s so much easier to just lean down and take a bite of whatever sits on your plate?  At that point you might as well just cut out the middleman. The waitress smiles and nods before flicking her mane out of her face and marching away.  You watch out of mild curiosity as she wanders around the busy tables, checking on a few of the restaurant's other patrons, fixing orders, refilling glasses, things like that.  After the novelty of watching her go about her day wares off you spin your head back around, staring down at the meal below.  Your stomach offers a tiny rumble as you study the steaming dish, vocally declaring it’s desire to be satiated.  You lean down and take a gentle bite, savoring the sweet tanginess of the rice and the pungent buttery flavor of the vegetables. By Celestia, this is delicious.  You can’t honestly remember the last time you had food quite this… tasty, for lack of a better term.  Which makes sense.  After all, you’ve been the one cooking the vast majority of the meals lately.  And though the food you prepare is far from inedible, you lack true culinary finesse.  Which is likely due to an overt lack of knowledge on the subject.  You don’t know what blends with what, you don’t understand what spices to use for certain meals, you don’t know how long certain things should be cooked to reach a certain taste or consistency... honestly, it’s surprising you even know how to work the fashionista’s oven.  Thus, due to your distinct lack of knowledge, your food comes out fine, but bland.  Personally you think that Rarity’s a better cook than you are, the few times she’s given you a break from the stove and made something herself stand out as particularly delightful.   “Enjoying your dinner, Dear?”  You hear the unicorn in question inquire, you look up from your plate, smiling as she gently tilts her head to the side, giggling at the puffiness of your stuffed cheeks.   You half open your mouth to respond, only for the food in your mouth to slide forward in response, coming dangerously close to toppling out of your open maw.  You quickly snap it shut, blushing furiously before sheepishly swallowing.  That would have been, embarrassing… “Yeah, it’s really good.  I Wish I could cook this well, might have to nab a cookbook or something from the library on the way back…”  That actually sounds like a decent idea, now that you think about it.  Provided you don’t get smashed by any falling bookcases during your visit, that is.  “That way you don’t have to suffer through the messes I make.” Rarity playfully rolls her eyes.  “Please, dear… your cooking is hardly what I’d call a mess.”  She purses her lips a little, as if in thought, before taking another bite of her own food, horn alight as she levitates a sparkling silver fork into the soft dark greens of her salad.  She retracts the fork after a moment of poking, a hard orange carrot stuck to the sharp silver prongs, she jabs it in your direction for emphasis.  “But if you harbor a desire to improve your culinary prowess, I see no reason to recommend otherwise.” You ‘hmm’ to yourself for a moment before responding.  Learning how to cook decent food for a change might actually be a good idea.  It’d certainly make you feel a little more useful around the boutique.  For being Rarity’s ‘assistant’ you don’t really feel like you do a whole heck of a lot of ‘assisting’.   Your laundry list of chores at the moment consists of no more than three or four things.  You cook, you clean, you occasionally run into town to get some things for her, and… nope, that’s about it.  It’s not like you can really help Rarity with her fashion designing, last time you tried the results had been… catastrophic.  You suppose babysitting Sweetie Belle might fall under that list as well, but considering how much fun those little misadventures oft turn out to be you’d be hard pressed to label it under other activities you’d consider work.  You like babysitting Sweetie Belle,and in some ways the little filly reminds you of your own sister.  Just… without the biting sarcastic remarks… or insults. Speaking of your sister… “Um… hey Mom, Dad.”  Both of your parents sit up a little bit, staring at you expectantly.  It’s just now you realize that the table had been entirely silent.  Save for your little aside with Rarity, not a word had been spoken since everypony had taken a seat.  You imagine that the silence had been the result of everypony’s preferred interest in eating their own food, rather than an actual desire to avoid speaking to one another.   That didn’t make it any less awkward though… “I was just wondering.  Why didn’t you guys bring Aquaris with you?”  You feel your ears lay flat against your head as you nervously shift back and forth in your seat, afraid of the answer you might receive.  “I mean, I know she probably wasn’t crazy about the idea…” Your father pipes up, cutting you off.  “Your sister needed to stay behind for her swim team activities.”  You see him smile, a soft, reassuring smile.  “She wanted to come, actually, I think she misses you a lot more than she likes to let on.”   Your mother giggles and nods in agreement.  “That’s right, no big brother to go and bug when she’s bored.”   You smile, ever so slightly, pleased to know that your sister actually does hold some semblance of affection for you.  It’s… reassuring, being away for all this time has really made you realize just how much you undervalued her.  It’s true that you and she never really got along, at least, not for very long.  The two of you seem to come from different roots, like, two different plants that sprouted from the same seed.   In all honesty, the two of you really didn’t spend a whole lot of time together.  The pair of you were so different that, despite living in the same house, neither you nor Aquaris really gravitated towards similar activities.  Sitting down across from one another at the dinner table for an hour or two each night was about as close as it got to consistent interaction, and even then it wasn’t like the two of you had much in common to talk about.  But, you’ve recently found yourself regretting this lack of interaction.  Maybe it’s due to all that time you’ve spent with Sweetie, watching over her like she’s one of your own.  Or maybe being away for so long has just made you realize how much time you’d wasted not even trying to form a bond with her.  Knowing that she, at least in a sense, feels the same way is comforting. Your parents don’t seem to notice the subtle improvement in your mood, slipping back into their own subdued conversation with nary a care in the world.  But Rarity does… Your eyes widen a tad as a silky smooth hoof wraps around your own beneath the table, squeezing it ever so slightly in a warm, soothing way.  You and the fashionista share a smile.  The twinkle in her eyes is delightfully uplifting, and her touch is as loving and affectionate as it’s ever been.   You feel a lot of the guilt you’ve been bottling up about hurting her slowly slip away, though not disappearing outright, as you know she’s long since forgiven you for it, and you still feel a dark little twisting pit of guilt worm it’s way around your gut whenever you look down to see that gnarly bruise on her hoof.  A dark, terrible mark, that mars the perfect beauty it sits upon… a mark you made. The sound of your name intermingled with your mother’s rough tone snaps you out of your thoughts.  And you look up to see her raising an eyebrow. “Honey, did you hear a single word I just said?”  she inquires, the older mare’s rhetorical tone piercing you through the heart. You shake your head, bashfully admitting that, no, you had not been paying even the slightest bit of attention to what she’d been saying.  You’d been too lost in your own thoughts and self-doubt. Your mother rolls her eyes, letting out a heavy sigh of defeat.  “Honestly… why do I even bother?” Your father frowns a little.  “Spring… come on, cut him a little slack.” She swats the middle-aged stallion on the nose with her hoof, effectively shutting him up.  “Oh please, you don’t listen to me either.” He reaches up with a crimson hoof and soothingly rubs at his injured nose, grumbling a bit.  “And there’s a reason for that…” “What did you just say?” “Nothing, dear.” Feeling jovial, you turn to Rarity and shoot her a cocksure grin.  “If you can’t tell, my parents have wondrous communication skills.” That earns you a chuckle from the snow white mare.  However, she seems much too polite to voice any commentary on the matter. Your mother huffs and thumps a hoof against the table in indignation.  “Oh like you have any room to talk, mister!”  Her voice deepens, slipping into some sort of mix between a growl and a high pitched mocking lilt as she curtly balls up her napkin and flicks it at you from across the table.  The balled up paper bounces off your nose, harmless, but it still makes you flinch.   A sly chuckle slips through your lips as you reach up with your scarred hoof and rub at the spot the paper had collided with your nose, scratching at it.  You hear Rarity let loose another petite giggle, followed by the gentle muffled sound of crunching salad leaves and carrots as she devours another forkful of her salad.  You refrain from looking at her, however.  You keep your eyes focused forward, giving your mother the attention she likely wants and probably deserves. She straightens up a bit in her seat and pushes a stray strand of her mane out of her face before she continues, her eyes sharpening like knives, slicing a warning into your heart.   ‘You’d better pay attention this time...’ They said, you heed her steely gaze, hoping to avoid any further reprimands.  Seemingly pleased with her newfound monopoly on your attention, your mother begins to speak. “Now… your father and I have done some talking.  And, well, we have a… proposition for you.”  Her voice takes on a serious tone, a different kind of serious tone.   Not the ‘you better listen to me or else I’ll put you in a headlock so strong your eyes’ll pop,’ kind of serious, but the sympathetic kind of serious.   “We… want you to come home.”  She says, her expression stuck somewhere between a smile and a frown.   Your eyes widen, ‘come home’?  Did you hear her right?  Why would she even bother to extend the offer, you’re touched that they miss you, you really are, and despite everything that’s happened recently you’d love to see your sister and that crotchety old butler again, but you can’t just… go home! You’re in love for Celestia’s sake!  You can’t leave Rarity here in Ponyville, long distance relationships never work, and you highly, highly, doubt that she’d be willing to just… abandon all of her friends and family here to go with you.  And, not to mention the… other reasons you can’t exactly stay there for an extended period of time.  To be brutally honest t’s silly, it’s preposterous, it… doesn’t make any sense at all. That might explain why your mother’s been staring at you for the past two and a half minutes with her eyebrow cocked so high that it looks like they might shoot off her forehead. “You think I’m asking you to come and stay.  Don’t you?”  She shakes her head.  “Son, don’t be silly.  We know you’ve made a life here, done some good for yourself…”  The older mare’s eyes gently wander towards the fashionista sitting next to you, they glitter with pride and happiness.  “Found yourself somepony to care about… we would never ask you to leave that behind.” You feel reassured by those words.  And being swept up in all that praise does some to lift up your, admittedly low, spirits. Your father steps in, adding his two cents.  “But, it’s obvious that you’ve been… how should I put this… struggling with…”  His voice trails off for a moment as he searches for the words.  “What happened, a while back.”  He says, eyes downcast as he mentions the dreaded event that turned your life upside down.  A flicker of movement to your right betrays Rarity’s interest in the subject, you can’t blame her for being curious… you just… can’t tell her.  Not yet. Your parents’ eyes flicker to each other’s for a moment, before refocusing onto you.  Again, your father speaks.  The stallion’s deep, businesslike, voice annoyingly feels as if it’s trivializing what feels like an important matter.  You know he can’t help it, but it still grates on your nerves. “We think it might help you to come home and face those problems, maybe if you do, it’ll help you truly get over them.”  He says, smiling hopefully.   You shift your eyes downward, unable to meet their own.  You gaze down at the soft brown carpet of the restaurant's floor below, your appetite evaporating as you think on what they’ve said. Maybe they’re right… maybe you’ve done enough running.  Maybe turning around and facing these problems is for the best, hell, maybe it’s the only way to get to the heart of the matter.  Then again, it could just spiral you further down this twisted rabbit hole of pain and misery you’ve been hastily trying to claw your way out of since said event took place. You feel that snow white hoof wrap around your own again, and you manage a weak smile as her soothing warmth pours into you.  It’s touching of her to be so supportive of you… and you love her all the more for it, but her attempt at comfort does little to help you reach a decision. Luckily, your mother makes a move to help ease the process.  “Of course, you don’t have to decide right now, your father and I can wait a few days while you come to a decision.”  Her gaze shifts to Rarity as she offers the fashionista a kind smirk, the scar stretching across her face contorting into an awkward position around her lips as she does.  “And the offer’s extended to Rarity as well, if she wants to accompany you.” The unicorn’s grip tightens.  “Of course, it’s very much appreciated.” “So…”  Your father leans forward in his chair, gaze soft and soothing.  “What do you think?” You… don’t really know what to say, you hadn’t been expecting this turn of events, would going back to Manehattan be the best course of action?  You don’t know, and thus, you don’t really have an answer to give. A heartfelt sigh slips past your lips as you give your head a hearty shake.  “You’re coming at me with an awful lot here…”  You say, shifting nervously in your chair, Rarity’s grip tightens through your visible sign of distress, doing what she can to comfort you.  “I’m gonna take you up on that offer to wait a while.  If you don’t mind waiting a while for me to get my head on straight.”  You chuckle a little, mirthlessly, closing your good eye and staring out of your blind one.   “I’m not even healed up all the way yet anyway, and I don’t know if a trip across Equestria is the best thing for me right now.”  You bashfully admit, chuckling in a vain attempt to lighten the mood a tad.  That would work as a suitable excuse, for now, anyway.  “So, give me a little while to think about it.  Alright?” Both of your parents nod in unison, likely having suspected that answer.  With that decided, all three of you go back to eating your meals, eager to take your minds off of the recent conversation.  Unfortunately, the serious air hanging around the table fails to dissipate, and the rest of your dinner is eaten in a sullen, unsettling, quiet. You barely manage to repress a sigh.  So much for a happy dinner with the family.