Life at Home
Talk about highs and lows, I woke up the next day to a letter from my parents. Mom insisted on having me over for dinner. She'd even managed to put pressure on my boss. Deadline even gave me time off after I turned in the article for editing. I’m not sure he was thrilled at me for not being there to finalize my big feature. Lovely Story, Canterlot’s resident mature author, could be very persuasive. That strength lay in opposition to father's strong suit; Second Story had a commanding presence. An architect and engineer, father designed some of Canterlot's hottest new shops, restaurants and galleries.
As I rode in the taxi out to the edge of the city, I steeled myself to deal with father. Second Story was a business pony first and father second. He’d worked very hard to provide for us and to his credit, I never went wanting for most things. Actually, there was only one thing I lacked; his acceptance. Father constantly corrected me. His time with me as a foal consisted of cutting me off, pointing out my stuttering, and trivializing my problems. I’d learned a long time ago not to expect compassion from him. If I told myself the truth, he was the reason I dreaded coming home. Compared to that, mom’s embarrassing writing habits were tame.
Their home looked as beautiful as when I left it. Between father’s pay and mom’s freakish book output, they were able to afford building their own home on the outskirts of Canterlot. Not easy, considering the city was built on the side of a mountain, but indicative of just how wealthy certain ponies could be. The home itself was built partially inside the mountain, but the interior rooms were lit by cutting edge electric lights. The front featured father’s masterful architectural prowess as well as mom’s love for stained glass. With the silver and white and colorful glass, it was easy to imagine this place as a treasure trove of wonder and whimsy.
No.
At least, not for me.
Walking up to the door tended to fill me with the sort of feelings from which I usually ran screaming. Unfortunately, like iron to a magnet, I was drawn back here often. My fondest hope was that my visit would be brief.
My father’s right hoof, Silver Platter, answered the door. “Master Life, a pleasure to see you. You know your mother insists that you should just walk in.” He said as he stepped aside.
I shrugged as I walked in. “You know my father prefers to know when someone has arrived. Figured I’d make it easy on you, Silv.”
“How very thoughtful of you, Master Life.” Silver responded politely. “Your mother is in the solarium. I shall inform your father of your arrival.”
“Of course.” I mumbled as Silver turned toward the master staircase.
Silver hesitated and turned halfway around to eye me. “Far be it from me to correct you, Master Life, but I would remind you of your father's opinion of mumbling.
I sighed. “Of course, thank you very much Mr. Platter.”
Silver rolled his eyes. He knew I only called him Mr. Platter when I was annoyed. Mercifully, he left without another word up the master staircase. Likely he was headed to father’s study.
Mother’s solarium was her special writing place. She insisted that the best stories were written by sun or candle. To that end, the solarium was the one room in the house that did not have electrical lights. Instead, large panes of glass allowed the most sunlight possible and candles were ensconced at various intervals around the room. Mom did a little gardening here to provide flowers for the house year round.
When I entered, she was neither writing nor gardening, but watching the sunset. The waning light threw pastel shades of red and gold over her golden coat and cherry-red mane. She sat like a goddess aflame, still and regal. The effect was stunning. I felt a nudge on my shoulder.
"This is how she looked when I first met her." Father said softly. It was so unlike my father, I did a double-take. He had eyes only for her at the moment so I was free to gape. His mane was almost fully white with a streak of black, an inversion of my mane. His black coat had become flecked with silver with age. The sunlight made mother look beautiful; father looked old and tired. I'd have thought it surreal, except I'd never dreamed my father could be anything but demanding and strong.
"Life!" Mother exclaimed. I turned in time to get caught in her embrace. A second later, she drew father into the hug, to our mutual discomfort. Oblivious, mother sighed. "My two favorite stallions." I looked at father, he simply rolled his eyes and shrugged, throwing a forehoof around mom's shoulders.
She drew back and gestured at father. "Your father has news!"
While mom looked excited, father looked mildly annoyed. "Dear, can't we do this at dinner?"
"You tell him now or I will!" She threatened lightly. This was a new development. Mom was always too busy with her books to be assertive with father.
Father sighed again. "I'm retiring."
My jaw dropped. Father's annoyed look deepened. "Son, you are a pony, not a fish." That was more like father. I closed my mouth with an audible clack. Mom bumped his shoulder, earning another sigh from father.
She turned back to me. "Isn't it exciting!"
"No." Father stated.
"Hush, you've been a sour sport about this since you decided to retire." Mom waved her hoof dismissively.
"Dinner." Father reminded her.
"Oh, fine. Lead the way."
I trailed behind them as they walked to the dining room, the lack of conversation left me free to speculate. Father never spoke about retiring. Ever. I assumed he would keep working until he passed away. Worst-case scenarios were flying through my head. Was father sick? Surely mom wouldn’t be so happy if father was unwell. Had he run out of clients? Maybe his designs had gone out of fashion? If nopony would hire him, would that make him retire? Did he have enough saved to retire? My father was no spring chicken, but he had a lot of life ahead of him, didn’t he?
I must have looked troubled as we sat at our usual places at the family table. Our dining room had two tables that would be joined together if we had company. The smaller family table allowed us to be closer. “Son, you can stop worrying. I may not be as excited as your mother, but this day has been planned for some time.”
It was unreal; Father never reassured me. “Why, sir?” There was a lifetime of questions in that one why.
"I want to relax, son.” He stated simply.
I hazarded a guess. “Is the business…”
He waved a hoof, cutting me off. “Business has been great. I’m more in demand now than ever. But I’m also older, son. Priorities change.”
Okay, next worse-case scenario. “Are you…”
“Son, I’m fine.” Father said with a touch of annoyance.
My ears pinned back. “Sorry, sir.”
Mom held a hoof up at father’s nose threateningly. He put his hooves up questioningly. She poked his nose meaningfully and he capitulated.
“Dad.” He corrected.
I nodded numbly, used to his correction tone. Then my eyes widened. “Dad?” This was boggling. Father had insisted I call him sir since I was a foal. Practically since I could speak.
“You're sure you're okay, sir?” I asked, half-jokingly.
He turned to mom, his patience worn out. “What did I tell you?”
Mom placated. “He’s just not used to you, dear. Think about how you’ve treated him his whole life.”
“I’m positive I wasn’t…” He began.
She placed a hoof on his shoulder. “Oh no? How about his graduation?”
I placed my head in my hooves. That night had been the worst. Father had allowed Div and only Div to celebrate my graduation from the School for Gifted Unicorns. The entire affair was a study in awkward conversation, made worse by father’s constant corrections. It ended when father was called away to recalculate a support beam for a nursery school. Mom actually apologized to Div and it took the two of them at least an hour to coax me back out of my room.
“It wasn’t that bad.” He said defensively. Mom glared at him. For once, he looked away first. “You’re right.”
“Life.” Today was a plethora of firsts for father. He never used my first name without also using my second and usually his tone was much more harsh. “I owe you an explanation.”
Mom held his hoof as he spoke. “Two weeks ago, I had a health scare. It turned out to be not as serious, but I had to stay at the hospital for a few days. I thought you knew and refused to visit me. I…”
He looked at mom, who nodded. “I said some rather harsh things about you. I’m sure you can imagine.” Sadly, I could. Father had been my harshest critic. With how much I resented him, I was surprised at how much I felt for him just now.
“At any rate, your mother took me to task for bad-mouthing my own son. She had decided not to tell you. I demanded to know why.” He looked away.
She finished for him. “I told him that if his son came to his bedside, it would be out of obligation. You can imagine his response.”
Father took over. “Your mother and I had a conversation. It was a long conversation, and it was long overdue.” He paused to take a deep breath. “I know I can’t make up for how I’ve treated you over the years. Perhaps I convinced myself I was doing what was right for you. I was wrong.”
Father looked me in my eyes. “I’m truly sorry, Life.”
My eyes clouded over in hot tears. They ran freely down my face. He couldn’t…he couldn’t just do that. I thought. He can’t make me feel for him after so many years of fearing him.
“Y-you…I…but you a-always.” I could feel my body shaking as I struggled for words. No! No stuttering! Father always hated stuttering. "S-sorry, sir. I-I mean…d-d-dad.”
Mother looked at him meaningfully and father looked as if he'd eaten something sour. Father stood up and walked to me. I scrambled to get to my feet, years of training screaming at me to stand with the host. Solemnly, father held up a forehoof. “You don’t have to believe me. All I can do is beg for another chance to be a better dad.”
Could I forgive him? Did he deserve another chance? Did I deserve a better father? Here I was, a grown stallion, so close to a sobbing mess that I was turning red just from the embarrassment of crying. I’d put up walls to keep my father from hurting me, but he’d flown right over them.
I tried wiping my tears away with a forelimb only for more to stream down. “Ly.” Mom’s voice was at my side, she must have gotten up at some point. “Breathe, Ly. It’s okay. I know it’s a lot to take in. I’ve been trying to work with both of you to get to this point since your graduation. I’m as much to blame. I should have made less excuses for your father.”
“M-mom?” Why was she apologizing? I never blamed her. I wondered what she saw in father, but I never held her love for him against her.
“I haven’t written a book since you graduated. I don’t know if either of you realized.” I looked at f- dad, who shook his head. “Your graduation and your father's behavior then made things clear. I put my career first, too. After I had you I was so over my head that we decided to hire somepony to help. It freed up my time, but that was time I should've spent with my family. Well, at least part of that time should've been saved for you. So I insisted your father should find you a job in your field and we’ve been in touch with Hardy.”
I looked at her in surprise. She bit her lip. “I'm sorry. If it helps, he thinks very highly of you and didn’t say much else about you.” I wasn’t sure how to take that.
“Ly, a family takes work. The kind of work your father and I have neglected. We’ll do what it takes to earn back your trust. Can you give us the time?”
I looked at my parents. They both waited patiently. Picking up my napkin, I wiped my eyes again. I reached out to fath- dad first. He came closer and I pulled him into a hug. He chuckled at the sudden contact. I beckoned mom in as well and she cried, smiling.
We spent dinner and the ensuing hours talking, joking and laughing. Dad had a wicked sense of humor. Mom kept staring at us contently. When the hour was late, I found it difficult to leave.
“This is your home too, you know.” She reminded me.
“It certainly feels like it.” I nodded. “But I have edits to go over…”
“Please stay. We can have breakfast together. I’ll make pancakes.” I stared at her. “Okay, Silver will make pancakes. You can take a cab straight home after. I’ve already made arrangements.”
“Well, as long as Silver’s making pancakes.” I said with a grin, and mom chased me through the house.
“You get back here young man! I’ll have you know I cooked for your father when we were first married.”
“No wonder he hired Silver!” I shot back over my shoulder.
***
I took the cab straight home in time to see a pony waiting at my door. It was a delivery pony with a large crate. I hurried over to unlock the door.
“I have a delivery for Life Story.” He said, tiredly.
“Sorry. Yes, that’s me. I didn’t order anything, though.” I replied.
“If I had a bit for every time I heard that I’d be living in a mansion.” He responded. “Just sign here.” I complied, curious about the contents of the crate.
“Where do you want it?” He asked as I beckoned him in.
I wanted to say I had no clue what ‘it' even was so how was I supposed to know? Instead I said “Anywhere's fine.”
He rolled it in about five feet and stopped in the middle of my rather spartan living room. “You want I should open it?” He asked, pulling a crowbar out of his tool belt.
“If you would, please.” I didn’t exactly have any other way of opening it. Well, aside from using magic.
The delivery pony fitted the bar and popped off the top of the crate. With that gone, the other sides fell to the ground with a clatter. I flinched backward at the movement and noise. Small, white shock absorbers flooded the floor, much to my dismay. In the pandemonium of packing peanuts, the delivery pony slipped away. Annoyed, I unleashed my magic to try and gather the packing material, only to realize I had nowhere to put it. My trash can was full already.
I settled on piling it next to the object it had kept safe, resolving to find a trash bag eventually. It looked a lot like a cabinet, although it was hard to see because of the tarp secured over it. Removing it with my magic, I let the tarp fall as I stared at the newest addition to my living room.
An antique copy of Sir Neighton’s Philosophiae Naturalist Principia Mathemagica sat in a glass and wooden display case.
“Oh no.” I whispered softly, instantly horrified.
“Um, Life? Your front door is wide open. Are you okay?” Div walked in, stepping daintily around the pile on the floor. “You bought a book?”
I shook my head.
“It’s a gift?” He asked, eyeing me while trying to put it together. I nodded. There was a pause as he made the connection.
“From Genuine Article?” Again, I nodded. I couldn’t stand on my rear Hooves anymore so I sat where I stood. My forehooves covered my eyes.
Div was at my side at an instant. “Life. Breathe. Concentrate on your breathing. Take a deep breath.” My face ran red with embarrassment, this was so humiliating. Why did Div have to be here? He shouldn’t have to deal with me when I’m like this. Why can’t I just be rational?
“Ly, talk to me. Don’t get stuck in your head.”
“You shouldn’t be here. “ I blurted, only to cover my mouth with my hooves in shock. My eyes opened wide. “I…I”
“Shh, I know you didn’t mean it that way. Don’t apologize, please.” He moved away and I had an irrational urge to pull him closer. “I’m just shutting the door, Ly. Focus on breathing, count them off.”
I struggled at first; I was that close to hyperventilating. Div returned and coached me through it, counting and breathing with me. He extended a hoof. I looked into his eyes and nodded. He pulled my head onto his shoulder, careful not to impale himself on my horn. I felt close to tears from just how good it felt to be close to him. As ashamed as I am to admit it, I did tear up when he started rubbing my back.
“Just take it easy, Ly. Do you want to talk about it yet?”
“Yeph.” I answered, my mouth muffled by his chest.
“Genuine gave you an incredibly generous gift. What’s wrong with it?”
“I’m writing an article on her shop. If she’s giving me gifts, then it compromises my integrity as a journalist. How are ponies going to react if they thought the featured article on the biggest issue of the year was a tit for tat favor?”
“But it’s not.” He said.
“But that’s what it looks like. You know how Canterlot is about appearances!”
“Okay. I’ll arrange to have this returned. You go to work and tell Deadline what’s going on in case he hears about it. Better he hear it from you.”
“Right. Thanks, Div!” I called as I headed to my room. Quickly, I changed clothes and rushed out the door.
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6148336
That's very kind of you! I'm having fun writing it, but it definitely helps having readers who enjoy it.
6148993 Very much so! I kicked myself when I realized I didn't bring it up again at Delmaneco's
That was a very interesting chapter. I am just surprised that a dinner was enough for Life to be closer to his father.
This Genuine's gift though x)
6151854 The dinner is step one. Life really craved his father's affection and didn't know how to deal with finally getting it. In the end, he still couldn't verbalize a response and had to rely on the simple gesture of a hug.
Jeeze.
Not very far in and I already feel like wrapping Life in a big, warm hug. Where's Div when you need him?
The subconscious (or even conscious) guilt of "I don't want to go—oh, man, I shouldn't think that, they're my parents—I should go because I don't want to—..." is really hard to get out of.
I don't care what happens with Silver Platter from here on out. I am going to imagine his tone/voice/mannerisms as Niles from The Nanny. This is happening.
... aaaw...
Although I love their dynamic as a couple... agh, Father, I just want to tug on his cheeks. Smile, darn you. Smile! Love your son already! Then again, I do understand that retiring is a big, big deal to older gentlemen. Some of them see it as a sign of "giving up" or "giving in" to old age...
... Holy cow. This is already turning away from all the feels I had. I really, really like Second Story now. He's oblivious (or seems so far) to his rough edges and short-tempered nature. That's the worst, because when you don't know you're short-tempered, your fuse is even shorter, because you can't understand why you're being treated like you're short-tempered. But he's trying... That's really sweet.
Good job, Mom. Too often the women tied to these short-tempered men simply follow them, quietly excuse their behavior to others, and smile and carry on. Good job to Mom for taking him to task when it really counted. Also, good job to Dad for manning up (stallioning up?) and seeing the truth. Sad that it takes a health scare to bring about that realization, but as long as it was just a scare, maybe that's what it takes for some men...
It is really hard to see someone in a different light in that short amount of time after years of only knowing them one way. I completely understand and feel so bad for you right now, Life. It's really confusing.
Oh, phew, now I can say these tears are from amusement. Tears of laugher. Not tears of bittersweet feelings.
Worst. Realization. Ever.
I KNEW IT. I should have called it bUT I KNEW IT!
DIV! Hi!
Also, tell averageamazingme that I knew it.
Ugh.
It's hard to get out of your head once the questions start circling. Div, hug him and tell him it'll be all right!
DO IT.
... I'll take it. The tears kind of make it hard to fangirl squeal, but I'll take it. Also, poor Life. I've had panic attacks before and they are awful.
Even though it doesn't help much, at least Life is smart enough to know what it looks like. It's even worse when you're blindsided due to obliviousness to the situation, because you risk accepting more favors unknowingly...
MUST READ MORE!... when I have time.
I'll be back! Slowly but surely. You haven't seen the last of me!
If Div and Life get together I swear to god I will commission art or something of how cute they are
6160547 Yes! Crystal Comment Get!!!
Life has a certain amount of pride that prevents him from insisting Div move in with him. :)
In a rather strange way, I'm glad I could encapsulate that feeling.
Silver Platter = Niles from the Nanny
Headcanon approved. Niles is so sassy. I used to watch The Nanny a lot as a kid. I'm singing the theme as I write this, no joke.
Intro to Lovely, Second and Retirement
In my head, this played entire scene played out very differently. Lovely was supposed to be writing her next hit and being generally inattentive to Life's discomfort. Second was going to come in and be carrying on two conversations; dictating a letter to Silver while constantly correcting Life's every move. Then I swear I felt like I was herding cats. Lovely wanted to be watching the sunset (I had to change the time of the scene to accommodate). Then Second wanted to slip that line in about first seeing Lovely. Then I tried having Second harden up and start talking down to Life but Second wouldn't cooperate. Both Lovely and Second insisted on stumping Life with unusual behavior. With the history I set up, I realized that there was a special reason for them to invite Life back home. The rest came out naturally.
Read my mind. Second has a lot of work to do to make up for years of getting things wrong.
I really want to ask about the Rarity emoticon after that large quote from Lovely. Call me old, but I couldn't figure out what it meant.
I had to throw in some comic relief. Celestia knows we don't get enough laughs out of the next chapter.
Div and Life and the Principia.
Don'tRead the next chapter.Ah yes, perception vs reality! That is always a fun one. It didn't cross my mind at first but yeah, Life is totally right.
I really love the description of his mother and the look of the house. Great chapter.