Open led the way into the Salt Lick watering hole. Sitting at a table in the empty saloon was a paint pony. The mare shared Bruiser’s lighter shade of brown coat but added only slightly darker patches on top. Her chest, cheeks and fetlocks were all fairly long haired, albeit well-kept. The mare’s ears were different; tufts of fur grew from them.
“Life Story, this is Sweetheart Tannin.” Open said by way of introduction. I stiffly shook her hoof as I tried to school my features into calm detachment.
Bruiser’s birth mother regarded us all with interest.
Finally, Div broke the silence. “What can we do for you, ma'am?”
“I have a few concerns about my son.” Her voice was soft, but resolute.
I snorted rudely. “You terminated your parental rights. Currently, he doesn’t have a family. Actually, he doesn’t even have a last name now.”
“My husband’s decision to sever connections with our youngest was made out of concern for his actions.” She said stiffly. I eyed her carefully. Her posture indicated that continued hostility would be met coldly.
I sighed mentally. “Your concern is appreciated.” I said evenly, slipping into my lying mask. “Bruiser was definitely impacted by your husband’s decision. However, by the very nature of punishment you and your husband undertook, Bruiser is no longer your concern.” This earned me a curious look from Div and a supportive smirk from Open.
She winced. “I was led to believe he’d be adopted by my extended family. My husband agreed to let him be adopted by one of my siblings.”
“Unless those words were in a conditional surrender agreement, you will find it hard to enforce that.” Open chimed in. Sweetheart pursed her lips.
“If you have a copy of that agreement, I'd like to see it. We haven’t heard anything about it and FPS seems not to know either.” I stated.
Sweetheart shifted uncomfortably. “The family court should have a copy. Bitter didn’t…I mean, I don’t have that copy with me. I’m warning you, I’ll make sure my wishes are respected.” The threat sounded hollow. It didn't help that she was so unsure of herself. Or maybe she wasn't sure about her husband.
Div spoke up. “This is ridiculous. What do you want, ma'am? You gave up your youngest, which is probably the nicest thing you could have done for him. Now you want to put him in the same kind of environment he ran away from?”
Sweetheart regarded him coldly. “Scraper was out of control. Always talking back to us, insisting on ignoring our rules and running away from home! I was at my wit’s end trying to find him. Do you really think I would give up on him so easily?”
“But you did give him up.” I interjected.
“Only so he would get more attention from one of my siblings! Their families are not as large as ours. They are perfectly able to take care of Scraper’s needs. Besides, they’re paints like he is.” She said defiantly.
“What does that have to do with anything?” Div asked, throwing a hoof in the air.
She held her chin up as she spoke. “Paints have a proud heritage. Scraper is part of a grand lineage and not just anypony can pass that tradition onward.”
“Seems to me that Bruiser doesn’t care as much as you do for these ‘traditions.’” Div scoffed.
Sweetheart stood. She wasn't exactly intimidating, but I had to admire how delusional a pony could get. “He is a child. There’s no way he understands what he’s giving up!”
Div continued his verbal assault. “He's old enough to make his own choices. He’s old enough to reject placement with ponies he’s uncomfortable around. Besides, what kid would want to live with a bunch of bigoted bullies.”
Open, Sweetheart, and I gasped. Sweetheart went a step further and slapped Div across the face. Hard. The sound rang through the empty bar.
“Proving my point.” Div said in the silence. Sweetheart’s face contorted in anger. She looked as if she’d slap him again.
“Mrs. Tannin, I think it’s time you went home.” Sheriff Silverstar said as he walked in.
Glancing around, Sweetheart took a good look at the expressions on everypony's face. Four ponies looked at her with what ranged from anger to pity to disgust. She gathered her things and trotted out the door.
The sheriff spoke first. “I heard a lot more of that than y’all probably realize, but I’ll make it brief. I saw the surrender agreement. Sweetheart might have been told it was conditional, but it’s not. There aren’t any clauses stating preferential adoption.”
Open sighed. “She might still sue, if Bitter tricked her into giving up her rights without conditions.”
I shook my head. “There’s no way she’d do that. She made it pretty clear that she’d put her husband ahead of her youngest. I think she regrets it, but she’ll never say a word against Bitter.”
Sheriff Silverstar spoke to Div. “Technically, she assaulted a Royal Guard. I know I sent her home but if you want to press charges I wouldn’t hold it against you.”
Div shook his head. “It just goes to prove what we've come to know about this family. How old are her other children?”
“The second youngest just became an adult not too long ago, I believe. Kind of hard to tell for sure with how much they keep to themselves.” The sheriff replied.
“Then there’s no point. We’ll save who we can.” Div turned to me.
“Div, I’m sorry…” I started, moving in to make sure he hadn’t been hurt too badly.
“It’s not your fault, Ly.” He assured me, planting a kiss on my cheek. I blushed, everypony was sure to have seen that. He grinned wickedly. “Y’know, you could kiss it all better.”
“You’re a nightmare.” I said my red face burning brightly.
“Nope. I’m your best dream come true.” He teased.
“It's a wonder those lips don’t stick together with all those honeyed words dripping from your mouth.” I countered. Div snorted and moved closer. My stomach tingled.
Open coughed pointedly. “This can wait until later.” She glanced at the sheriff, who looked decidedly uncomfortable.
“We’ll need to talk to Whindy about this. If she doesn’t worry about it, we won’t.” I hinted.
“I’ll go give her a visit.” The sheriff said, excusing himself quickly and exiting the saloon.
*
“Life, I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am.” My stomach twisted at her words. Whindy tried everything she could, but now I stood in the kitchen watching Sweetheart and Bruiser sitting on the swing set. A family court monitor looked on from a few feet away from them.
“How is this good for him?” I asked, my tone edging on anger.
“It’s a setback but it’s temporary. She missed the deadline to recover her rights normally. She still has yet to testify against her husband. Not to mention the abuse that Bruiser has alluded to. Visitation is the most she could hope for.” Whindy's tone lacked sufficient comfort to ease my worries.
Visions of her manipulating Bruiser came to my mind. Would Bruiser want to go home if his mother said so? “What’s she been saying?”
Whindy shook her head. “Surprisingly, she really hasn’t tried saying much. When she first arrived, she’d tried exchanging pleasantries. Bruiser has put up a wall; he hasn’t said a word to her.”
“Has she laid a hoof on him?” Div asked.
“She tried a hug, but he sidestepped her. The monitor has been pretty good about reminding her to be respectful of his personal space.” She sighed and looked at me tiredly. “It’s been awkward.”
“Tell me about it.” Div sighed heavily. They shared a sympathetic glance.
I huffed, barely registering their exchange. “I have half a mind to…”
Suddenly, Bruiser sprang to his hooves and rounded on Sweetheart. The swings weren’t far, but they were outside so what Bruiser said to his mother was between them and the monitor. The colt looked angry, but also seemed on the edge of tears. His lanky body shook slightly from the tension running through him. I held my breath, if Div hadn’t had a hold of me, I would've been out the door in a flash.
After what felt like ages but couldn’t have been more than a few minutes, Sweetheart stood. Remembering how his father had slapped him and how his mother had slapped Div, I broke free of Div’s hold and ran for the door. Whindy grabbed my tail with her teeth.
“What are you…?” I asked, resisting my natural urge to kick myself free.
“Look!” She said around a mouthful of my tail. I turned to see Sweetheart trotting to the door. Whindy spat my tail out just in time for Sweetheart to walk in.
Bruiser’s former dam took one look at us and scowled in disgust. “I don’t know what you’ve done, but that is no son of mine. You’ll never have to worry about me again.” With that, she turned and left.
The court monitor and Bruiser walked up to the house. When they got inside, Bruiser broke down into silent tears in my forehooves. I hugged him tight, but looked at the monitor questioningly. The yellow unicorn shrugged.
“You’ll need to talk with him about what he told her exactly. It will be better for him. Suffice it to say that he called her on nearly everything she’s ever done. It was pretty intense.” The monitor admitted.
“What did she say to him?” Div asked, a hoof on Div’s back.
The monitor shrugged again. “That’s just it. She didn’t say anything. She just left.”
*
It had been a week. And, even after the hectic itinerary I’d been subjected to on the train ride across Equestria, this was the craziest week of my life. I was actually really glad Open Schedule had stayed with me. Her organizing skills were definitely put to the test. Wedding appointments (this would be a short engagement), a family court appearance, and meeting with our parents made the week fly by.
“Mr. Story, thank you for agreeing to meet with me. I must say, though, I didn't expect this many ponies." I looked around the small office with a sheepish grin. Mom, dad, Div, Bruiser, Open, Ma Amore, Mamma Pro, and Whindy Roads were all crammed into the small space. Div, Bru and I sat in front of the desk with Open standing by my side. Our parents stood behind us. On the other side, Whindy Roads regarded us all with amusement.
"I'm sorry..." I began.
"Well, if anything, it shows the effectiveness of the Story/diVolare support group." Open Schedule cut me off. Ms. Roads chuckled into a hoof.
"I suppose that's right. Well, I have news.” She announced as she shuffled through papers. It was telling that she didn’t qualify it as good or bad. Hopefully it was more of one than the other.
Whindy looked around at the tense expressions on everypony’s faces. “Oh! It’s all good! Sweetheart withdrew her case. She’s severed all ties again. Your adoption was approved, and you’re free to take Bruiser home to Canterlot.”
A collected sigh of relief rose from everypony. Mom and dad smiled at the diVolare’s. Between us, Bruiser leaned his head on my shoulder. Div patted his back.
Walking out of Whindy's office, Bruiser weaved in and out of our group, talking to everypony very excitedly. Everyone seemed at ease; Bruiser was a natural charmer. My mother insisted on baking with him once we were back in Canterlot. He seemed as excited as she, to the point I couldn’t bring myself to warn him about mom’s dubious cooking skills.
We walked to the Salt Lick, for lack of a better place. Everything had been set up in advance, so that when we walked in Bruiser saw the banner with his name on it. He’d decided on sticking with just one name. Bruiser Story just didn’t flow right, and Bruiser diVolare wasn’t much better. But he had legally changed it from Scraper to Bruiser.
Under the banner was a pile of presents. Bruiser’s face was priceless.
“A-are those…for me?” His eyes were huge.
Ma Amore threw a hoof over his shoulder. “Si, il mio cavallino. Your grandparents, Sogni, and Open all wanted to make sure you had what you needed. And maybe a bit more.”
Mamma Pro sidled up to his other side. “By ‘a bit more' she means about half of this is to spoil you rotten.” She said, indicating the pile.
He broke loose and turned around to face all of us. “I-I don’t know what to say.”
Dad, as in my dad, actually smiled. “Wait till you open the gifts before you worry about thanking us. We’re family; we want to see you happy.”
“That's right!” Mom chirped, leaning on her husband cheerily. “Start with mine. I’m dying to see your reaction!”
“How about we have a seat first?” I suggested.
In the end, Bruiser made out like a bandit. Mom gave him a set of writing quills and inks. From dad, an interlocking block building set. Mamma Pro had at least three different outfits, all tailored for Bru like he’d been born with them. Ma Amore had somehow made a quilt.
I was beginning to suspect the diVolare’s never slept.
Div's gift was a strategy game. The game board was new, but the game was one we played as foals. Bru seemed very interested, at least.
As a matter of fact, Bruiser looked a little overwhelmed. With a pang, I remembered what he said when I asked why his hat was important. For a foal who never had things of his own, even the utilitarian gifts must seem like heaven. Time for my gift for Bruiser.
“Bru.” I called, getting the colt’s attention. Div handed me a hat box, which I in turn presented to Bruiser. “I believe this belongs to you.”
With enough solemnity that one would think the box contained a holy magical Artifact, Bruiser lifted the top and folded back the tissue. Gently, he lifted out his hat from Manehattan. With a smile, he flipped it onto his head, eyes gleaming as he turned his head up to look at me.
“Thanks, dad.” Bruiser said.