> Good Morning, Granny > by ThrakurzaudCR > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Good Morning, Granny > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Granny Smith sat up in her bed as a small knock came from her door. She weakly cleared her throat and called out to the pony behind the door. "Come in," Her voice croaked. She broke a whisper but didn't get much louder than that. The old mare had gotten further along in the years, and her health had gotten worse and worse gradually. Granny Smith couldn't remember how long ago her health started to decline, but she just took it as a sign of old age finally catching up to her. Her joints would act up if she moved too much, so sitting in her bed was much more manageable. An orange earth pony with a stetson clumsily turned the door handle and opened the door entering the bedroom. In her right hoof balanced a tray of food. All the food on the tray was apple-related in one way or another: applesauce, two apple tarts, a nice and neat pile of already cut pancakes with apples on them, and apple juice. Granny looked at the tray and the mare as she walked up to Granny Smith's bedside. "Good mornin', Granny," The younger mare greeted. She put down the tray of breakfast on Granny Smith's lap. "Good mornin', Applejack," Granny Smith replied with a small, weak smile. "This looks real good, AJ," Granny Smith complimented, examining the food for a bit. Granny Smith looked over at the mare, and even though the stetson had covered half the pony's face in a light shadow, she could see growing eye bags and small wrinkles starting to form. The mare was young, but time and experience were beginning to show on her features. "How're ya feeling today, Granny?" Applejack asked as she pulled a stool out from the corner of the room to sit on. "Oh, don't you mind me none. I'm fit as a fiddle," Granny Smith said light-heartedly but a little weak. She held up a front leg and pretended to flex for emphasis. She never really liked or allowed herself to show weakness, even if it was apparent she was faking. Raising three children with little help was taxing on the old mare already. Emotional support, financial troubles, running a business, and bucking apples, any other possible hardship added to the stress of the job. So, to not worry the kids, she needed to act tough and as though nothing was wrong. But that morning was different. She legitimately felt better than she had in a while. Seeing such a display of confidence from her sickly grandmother, Applejack snickered a little. "Glad you're still feelin' feisty. Me and Mac were startin' to get worried," the orange mare smiled playfully. "And hey. I know it's been a while since you've been outside, but you still remember where you are, right?" AJ chuckled. "Of course I know where I am," Granny Smith huffed with indignance, "I'm clearly in my room, in this house, in Sweet Apple Acres." What kind of question was that? Granny Smith thought she raised Applejack better. Asking such a question to her own granny, even if it was a joke. Granny Smith may have been old, but she wasn't losing anything upstairs. She let it slide this time because AJ was clearly joking, but she made a mental note to scold her later about that. But right now, she had a more pressing question. "I do wanna know somethin' though. What day is it? Staying inside for so long, the days run together." AJ looked at her grandmother and softly said, "It's Tuesday, Granny," she says. She motioned to a marked-off calendar on the door of the room. The most recent mark made it Tuesday, the thirteenth of August. Granny Smith looked at the calendar and cocked her head in slight confusion. Was that always there? It had to be since it was marked off. Had she not noticed it this whole time? Applejack pointed toward it like she had done the same thing more than a few times before. She must have just forgotten about the calendar. She'd have to make sure to look at that calendar from now on. "I guess it is, ain't it," Granny Smith responded. "Yes ma'am," Applejack started, "Now go ahead and get to eatin'. You don't want yer food gettin' too cold." She motioned toward Granny Smith's lap before putting her stetson on the nightstand. Granny Smith suddenly noticed the weight on her lap and looked down. A tray of apple-related breakfast foods sat comfortably in her lap. Where did it come from? It wasn't there a second ago, was it? Granny Smith looked up to Applejack and shot a glance at her grandaughter's head. All that was there was a blonde mane and orange ears. "Applejack, you ain't learn to use magic, have you?" Granny Smith asked, looking surprised and puzzled. "No, ma'am. As you can clearly see, I don't have a horn," Applejack tilted her head down and moved a little forward to give Granny Smith a better look at her slightly unkempt mane. "No magic for me, Granny." There was no horn, as she said. If there had been one, Grany Smith would have noticed long ago. Even if she had one, how would she have hidden it? Could she hide it with magic? If she could, why hide it in the first place? Applejack was one of the most honest ponies she knew and a notoriously bad liar. There was no way she could get away with hiding a horn for so long. So, where did the tray and food come from? "I was just wondering when this tray of food got here," Granny Smith explained. "I just sat it down, Granny. Ya probably just missed when I did," Applejack countered. Granny watched Applejack's face to see any of her tells when she's lying: A glance up and to the left, a stiffened body posture, a scrunched-up snout. But there was nothing there but a faint hint of sadness behind her eyes. "I guess I did then," Granny Smith conceded. She grabbed a fork and began to eat her breakfast. Applejack watched in calm silence. The two mares stayed that way until Granny Smith got about halfway finished with her food. Applejack scooted her stool away and picked up the stetson on the nightstand. Granny Smith paused her eating to watch AJ put the hat on. It looked familiar to Granny Smith, but she couldn't quite tell where she had seen that hat before. She could tell just by looking at it the hat was old and beat up but still in good condition. "AJ, where did you get that hat from?" "Oh, this?" Applejack pulled the hat off her head again and looked at it fondly. "This is just one of Dad's old hats he gave me." Granny Smith's eyes lit up a little as she smiled and nodded. "That's right, ain't it," she started, "He used to walk around with that hat on all day, every day. Whether it be summer or winter, rain or snow, he kept that hat on 'im, until he gave it to you. And now you do the same thing. You take after yer Pa, huh?" She asked, fondly remembering all the time she spent with her family. It felt like just yesterday. Applejack looked back at her hat and put it back atop her head. "Yeah. I guess I do, huh, Granny?" She said with a soft smile. The younger earth pony got off of the stool and started to make a move to the door. She had got about a step away when Granny Smith spoke up again. "I remember you, Big Mac, yer mom, and yer dad used to play hide'n'seek all in the orchard. Of course, ya'll had to set boundaries, or else each round would take all day," Granny Smith recounted. She closed her eyes and sighed as the sounds of laughter, hooves, and summer ran through her mind as the memories played out. They were as clear as the stars on a cloudless night during a new moon. If she could, Granny Smith would have run through those memories of the past, reliving those carefree moments. "Yeah, "Applejack started, "Big Mac and Sugar Belle do that with their Lil one, too." That sentence broke Granny Smith's concentration and her happy times crashed into a cliffside, falling away to rocky confusion. Big McIntosh has a kid? When? And who's Sugar Belle? Has Granny met her? Surely they've met. Why wouldn't Big Mac introduce his marefriend, let alone the mare he would end up having a foal with? "Big Mac has a foal?" Granny Smith practically shouted. Her body quickly leaned all the way forward, almost knocking over the tray of half-eaten food in her lap. The amount of distrust needed for that to happen would be greater than anything she's seen before. Could she not be trusted with that? Did Big Mac really not think he could introduce her to his Granny? Granny Smith didn't know whether or not to feel hurt, sad, or disappointed. Her brain ended up on all three, but before the emotion on her face could change from shocked confusion to the triad of sad, Applejack answered her question. "Yes ma'am, he does. You were there for their birth; Sugar Belle comes and takes care of you on Thursdays, too." she caught the tray before it slid off the bed. "Oh. I guess I forgot," Granny Smith said, laying back against her pillow again. She forgot. Again. She got so worked up about it, too. She almost knocked over the tray in her lap. Was that tray always there? It must have been. The food on the tray was half-eaten. How did she forget? Applejack had been in the room for a few minutes now, so she had to have come in with it. She had to have eaten. But when? She didn't recall eating. Applejack walked back to the bed and adjusted the tray. "Honestly, Big Mac's 'sposed ta be here right now 'cause I'm busy all day, but he'll be up to check on ya later. He's just a little occupied with foal at the moment. I'll be back Friday after I leave." Applejack explained. Granny Smith nodded in silence. A rotation. There was a schedule that revolved around her care. When did they develop that? How long had it been going on? And who was the pony that took care of her on Thursdays? A noticeable creak came from the door as a cyan pegasus mare around the same age as Applejack stepped in. She wore a brown aviator's jacket, and her mane and tail were all the colors of the rainbow. Granny Smith didn't know a pony could have that many colors in their hair at once. It was the first she'd seen it. "Hey, there you are, AJ. I was looking for you. I was going to ask Big Mac, but Sugar Belle told me he was busy." The pegasus' voice was undeniably feminine, but the slight rasp in her words told Granny Smith that she was a rough and tumble kind of mare. "You almost ready?" she asked Applejack. "Hey, RD. Yeah. Just makin' sure Granny here finishes eatin'." Applejack motioned in Granny Smith's direction. Who was this young mare calling a granny? She didn't see anypony else in the room, and neither one of them looked old enough to be called 'granny.' "Who're you callin' a granny?" Granny Smith asked softly. "You, Granny. On account that you are my granny, and that is part of yer name," Applejack replied calmly. There was a hint of a sigh that flew through her voice. Granny Smith was about to retort, but the words failed to form in her throat as her brain reminded her of who she was. "Haha, I'm just testin' ya," she laughed it off as best she could. The cyan mare followed suit. Applejack, however, looked at her sadly. Granny Smith got the feeling that she caught on to her rouse, as small as it was. Did she have a lapse in judgment? She must not have been paying attention to the conversation. She thought she was. Why did she say that? Where did it come from? While the small, old mare wondered about that, the cyan mare walked up to Granny Smith's bedside. "Hey, Granny Smith, do you remember me?" She asked, pointing a hoof at herself. "Rainbow!" Applejack exclaimed. The mare shushed her. "C'mon! Don't spoil the answer, AJ," Rainbow fussed with a playful grin. "Ya can't just ask her straight out like that," the orange mare reprimanded. "It'll be fine," the pegasus tried to appease, "Right, Granny Smith?" She turned back to the aging mare with an innocent grin on her face. Granny Smith looked upon the features of the pegasus. The more she looked, the more familiar the face got, but a name never appeared. She had undoubtedly seen the mare before, possibly in the paper some time ago. The aviator's jacket did look quite impressive. Maybe she was some famous Wonderbolt. But, if she were, that would beg the question of what they were doing in her room. Did she know anypony that knew anypony famous? She'd have to ask Big Mac later. "I'm sorry young missy, but I can't seem to recall us meeting," Granny Smith apologized. An emotion quickly flashed in the blue mare's eyes. Was it hurt? Disappointment? Or was it realization? Granny Smith couldn't lock down the feeling because the pegasus hopped up with a smirk on her face. "Hey, don't worry about it. I love introducing myself," she extended a hoof, "I'm Rainbow Dash. Fastest flyer in Equestria, one of the elements of harmony, captain of the Wonderbolts, and her marefriend." She pointed over to the earth pony standing by the entrance. A slight blush rose to her cheeks as she covered her smile with a familiar-looking stetson. Granny Smith smiled and took Rainbow's hoof. "Well, it's nice to meet ya. And ain't that cute, you two bein' together?" "It sure is. She's a wonderful pony." The pegasus smiled brightly, looking over to her marefriend. "She must be if she's takin' care of little 'ole me." Granny Smith laughed, and Rainbow joined in. "Now c'mon RD, we need to go. We'll be late if we stay much longer." "Ah, you're right, AJ. I'll see you later, Granny Smith." Rainbow said as she walked away from the bed. "I'll be back to see you later, Granny. Don't forget to finish eatin'. Love ya," the orange mare called before exiting. "I won't. Ya'll take care now." Granny Smith called back. The door to her room creaked to a close, and Granny Smith was alone for the time being. It was still pretty early. If she tried, she could still get a bit of sleep. She shifted in bed to get into a more comfortable laying position when she heard a clamoring sound and felt something move against her lap. She instinctively grabbed whatever was there and looked down. A tray of half-eaten apple-related food: applesauce, one apple tart, a slightly messy pile of already cut pancakes with apples on them, and half a glass of apple juice sat quietly. Granny wondered where it came from. Surely it hadn't always been in her lap. But then again, maybe it was. Half of the food was already eaten. She hadn't gone downstairs yet. Who gave it to her? She thought for a second and remembered the orange and cyan mares that had visited her. One of them must have given her the tray of food. Could it have been the orange one? Her hat did look familiar. She smiled softly, thinking of the two. They were friendly ponies. It was a shame she couldn't remember their names. They seemed so familiar, too. She'd have to ask Big Mac about it later. Granny Smith maneuvered her hoof around a fork and took a bite of the pancakes. They were delicious. The dash of cinnamon, the way the butter stayed on the tongue, the mix of the apples tangoing with the syrup. Whoever cooked it clearly made it with the love and care of an Apple. She took another bite savoring the taste. She had a feeling it was Pear Butter that made the breakfast and made a mental note to thank her later.