Tea With Mom
Buttercup put down her tea. Its smell was subtle, and sweet, just the way she liked it. But today, it wasn’t enough to sate her thirst. Today, like most other mornings in early summer, the sun shone bright across the ranch and illuminated the fields of golden flowers it produced in a warm, fiery blaze of color. It was about 10:00 in the morning by that time. Sitting on the patio of the ranch house, Buttercup softly smiled at the pristine view she currently had of her family’s pride. Seven generations of her family had been born and raised on that flower ranch, and the amount of care they took in their home was well displayed by the sheer beauty of the landscape. Captivating as it was, she nevertheless felt saddened in its presence.
Her husband and brothers were already out in the field with the other workers they’d hired, tending to the soil and each delicate petal of the numerous varieties of wildflowers they produced. It looked as though they were working through the poppy blooms at the moment. The workers stood out like black dots against the greens and blues of the distant mountains and the sky that outlined them. She almost envied them. Normally, she’d be out in the garden doing similar work with vegetables and the flowers they grew for their own meals. But being nearly nine months pregnant, she was currently rendered unable. It was hard for her, but she did her best to remain content in the time of rest she’d been given.
But to be so idle every day felt wrong to her. She was so used to being independent, and spent a lot of her time doing what she could to help out in supporting the family. It was the way she was raised. Doing nothing all day for the past how many months was plenty more than enough to drive her nuts, even with such beautiful scenery to look upon. Looking down at her lap, she adjusted the soft blanket she’d grabbed for warmth in the earlier part of the morning, and the familiar stitching of her mother brought her back to the youthful times that lingered bittersweet in the back of her mind.
“How’re you doing?” she was asked suddenly. Turning to the patio door that led to the kitchen, Buttercup saw her mother, Tulip Bouquet, who appeared to be bringing out a platter with a fresh pot of tea and a spare cup. With a comforting smile, her mother set the tray upon the patio table and sat in the chair across from Buttercup. “I thought you might like a fresh cup… You’ve been sitting out here all by yourself for a while now.”
Buttercup stared at her mother’s soft red mane streaked grey and her purple coat now lightened in her age. The medium tone of her mother’s coat varied greatly to her own, which could be compared to the light color of daffodils. Different as they looked from each other though, their hearts were closer than the moon was to its stars. With a sudden awareness of how much she’d missed her mother, she felt as if it’d been ages since she’d last seen her.
“I’ve been better Mom…” Buttercup finally answered, looking back out to the rest of her family working in the field. Her mother nodded understandingly and poured herself a cup of tea and freshened up the liquid in her daughter’s cup as well. “I just… I don’t know what to do with myself anymore. How can I really justify sitting around here all alone every day and not be doing anything?”
“I know things have been tough for you since the doctor put you on bedrest, but right now you have to think of that sweet babe in your tummy.” Tulip stated plainly, but not without compassion. “You know, I was much the same as you when I became pregnant with my first foal. I couldn’t sit still to save my life. But it’s a little bit easier when you remember that it’s not just your own life you’re taking care of now.” Laying a comforting hoof on Buttercup’s shoulder, Tulip did her best to reassure her daughter.
“I’m not really worried about anything like that.” Buttercup sighed. “This lil’ babe here’s been healthy and kicking all the while long… I just… I just can’t shake the loneliness, you know?” Buttercup bit her lip to hold back a sudden flow of tears. “I feel like I’ve been sitting here waiting and waiting for something to happen, with no changes at all and nopony else comes home for long until sundown. From sunup to dusk, everypony is out working and I just sit here or there, waiting all the while for some company.” Looking back to the concerned face of her mother, Buttercup let some tears fall down to her cheeks.
“Oh sweetie.” Tulip moved closer and hugged her daughter tightly. Brushing Buttercup’s pale cream colored hair out her face, she kissed her daughter on her head. “Things will look up soon, I promise. You’re never really alone, especially not here. This is your home, and you’ll always have friends and family to be found here.” She gave her daughter an extra squeeze and said, “And whenever things feel lonely for you, just take a look into the depths of your heart. Your Dad and I are there the whole time.” She wiped the tears from Buttercup’s face and smiled. “I’d never leave you all alone.” With a wavering smile, Buttercup wept openly for the first time in years and hugged her mother close. She drank in the reassurance she found in her mother’s embrace, and she felt much like a small foal again.
“Thank you, Mom.” Buttercup sniveled. “Sometimes I need to be reminded of that.” Pulling out of the hug, Buttercup grabbed a tissue, dabbed the tears from her grey eyes, blew her nose, and tossed the paper gently to the garbage pail placed conveniently nearby. Her mother moved quietly back to her seat across from Buttercup and sipped at her tea. She inhaled deeply the scent of it as she drank, like she always did, before gently placing the fragile cup back onto the table. Buttercup smiled; at least there were some things that never changed, her mother least of all.
“How did you do it all?” Buttercup asked her mother tentatively, her smile fading.
“What do you mean?” Tulip raised an eyebrow to the sudden question.
“Everything. You always worked so hard. Every day there was gardening, washing, sewing, knitting, harvesting, feeding animals, and cooking to be done; and on top of it all you managed to be such an amazing mother to five young fillies and colts every single day.” Buttercup twitched her ears back bashfully. She could never imagine filling her mother’s horseshoes. “How did you do it, and not give up everything that made you who you are?” she continued. Her mother chuckled, and sipped her tea.
“May not seem like it, but I gave up a lot when I had foals.” Her mother smirked. “I didn’t do all the things I used to do for fun, life and work became a routine of sorts, and so many things changed in such a short period, and they remained that way ever since.” With a thoughtful look, she added, “Did you know I used to dance? I used to be the best in the school. I even considered leaving for the city to professionally preform ballet. But that was about the time I met your father, and of course my priorities quickly changed thereafter.” Buttercup’s smile had vanished, and the slightest hint of fear became visible. She returned her gaze to the blanket across her lap and poked gently at the stitching.
“I didn’t know that at all… But, if you’re future in dancing was so bright, why didn’t you decide to go?” she asked her mother.
“Please don’t take all that the wrong way, Buttercup.” Tulip frowned. “Yes, it is true. I gave up a heck of a lot when I became a mother, and in staying, I decided against an entirely different future. But when I ever looked back at it, I wouldn’t change a single day of my life if it means I get to have you, and your brothers.” Pushing her cup aside, Tulip’s expression became very serious. “If I’d have left for the city, I’d have regretting leaving your father behind every day of my life. And I have never even once ever regretted staying here with your father. My life has been blessed a thousand times over for staying.”
“I… I’m glad for that.” Buttercup smiled, a little more assured. “I’ll admit, I’ve been feeling concerned about becoming a mother. I don’t want to be a mother if I will turn out to be a bad one. I haven’t been sure that I will ever be as good as you were for us. You and Dad gave us such a wonderful childhood, I would be ashamed to not try and do the same for my foals.”
“You silly filly.” Tulip laughed. “Is that all that’s bothering you? Honey, you’re destined to be a great Mom if that’s how you feel about things. With that ambition, your family will make sure you have all the time you need to be the best Mom you can be. All we can ever do is strive every day to be the best parents we can be for our children.” With a smile, Tulip finished her tea and set to pouring another cup.
“We’re thinking of naming her after you, you know.” Buttercup added suddenly. Almost spitting her tea, Tulip mouthed the words: are you serious? Buttercup laughed for the first time that morning. “We were thinking of naming her Tulipa Angelique to be exact; after both you and your favorite kind of tulip actually. I know you’ve always hated your name, but to me, it couldn’t be more perfect.” Buttercup smiled wide as Tulip rolled her eyes with a blush, but she was obviously very touched by the gesture.
“You always were a little mushy like that.” Tulip smirked. “But that’s another reason why you’ll make such a good mother. I’m so happy that she’ll be here with us soon.”
“Me too.” Buttercup cooed softly and gently rubbed at her full stomach. “Do you think she’ll like it here at the ranch?” she asked, shifting in her seat.
“I think that so long as she’s with you, she’ll be happy wherever she is. Even if that means you’re living somewhere else.” Tulip said. She turned her gaze out to the field of flowers before them. “Though, I’d like to think that you kids loved it here. Your father sure did, and I’ve been dazzled every day by the beauty of this ranch since the day I came to live here. I have always been proud to call this my home. And when your Dad and I had foals, it only felt more complete.” Tulip smiled, but her focus seemed to remain on those out on the field.
“This is probably the only place I could ever imagine having grown up.” Buttercup said, her eyes following her mother’s gaze. It appeared that the stallions were slowly approaching the part of the field that was closer to the house. “I honestly couldn’t imagine living anywhere else now either. Hopefully she’ll feel the same way when she gets here.” Her heart felt full to burst, and she wished that these final few weeks would hurry along so she could finally hold her little filly for the first time.
“I couldn’t be happier to heart that sweetie. I love you.” Tulip beamed happily as she took another drink from her cup.
“I love you too, Mom.” Buttercup grinned.
Turning her attention back to her tea for the first time since earlier that morning, Buttercup became distinctly aware that the last few hours must have passed surprisingly faster than usual. Her tea was cold, but she decided not to waste it, and drank a hefty mouthful just to get it down. With the stallions about to finish up work, she’d likely need to get up and go in, if only to try and be allowed to help make lunch. She finished her tea and rested the cup back on the table.
“Buttercup?” chimed a voice from the house. Jolting, Buttercup blinked awake and found herself staring still at the beautiful stitching of her favorite blanket. She turned to see her father, Snowberry, standing in the doorway. “I just came through the house and could have sworn I heard you crying. Who were you just talking to?” he asked, stepping out onto the patio.
Buttercup paused briefly, and looked sadly across the barren table to the empty chair across from her. So vivid was the memory of the last conversation she’d had with her mother, she’d almost forgotten that it had taken place over a month ago.
“Just to myself, I guess.” She smiled sadly. “Hey Dad?”
“Yes, sweetie?” he asked, making no attempt to hide his concern.
“Can we go visit Mom’s grave before supper tonight? I’d like to bring her some Tulips.” Buttercup smiled tearfully.