“Which orchard?” I ask after firing up my truck.

“Southeast.”

“Yay.” I respond as I open the throttle, ignoring the seatbelt warnings for the mile long drive between loading bays.

After she leaves to continue picking, I lounge in the bed admiring a master at work. Suddenly, a very strong feeling washes over me. I shoot up to a seated position to regain my composure but bury my face in my hands as I know exactly what that feeling precludes. Worse still, the last person this happened with? Twilight.

When she returns with empty crates, I do the only thing I can: press on, chalk it up to the divorce, and hope it goes away.

“Alright, sugarcube! Let’s go!”

“Another orchard?”

“Yea. I’ll help Big Mac finish in his, but this is the total warehouse order.”

“Shouldn’t you invest in a reefer?”

“Nah. The delivery companies take care of that.”

“Oh alright then.”

“You have the address?”

“Yeah.”

“Have fun.” She says as she heads for her brother’s orchards.

I make for main road and follow the sat-nav, ending up at the warehouse entrance. I stop at the guard tower to query.

“Hello! Delivery from Sweet Apple Acres.”

“Howdy! You can head to receiving. Take a right, then into the next driveway. You can turn around here.”

“Okay, Thank you!” I respond as I head in and throw the truck around. I wave to the guard before I head out to deliveries receiving. That guard then flags me and asks for ID. I furnish after I say “Delivery from Sweet Apple Acres.”

“Bay 104. You new?”

“Thank you. I’m temporary help.”

“Alright! Hope to see you around again!”

“Likewise!”

“Enjoy your day!”

“You too!” I say as I pull forward.

As I drive up to my bay, a loader ushers me in after I sweep around to back in. Once stopped, I park and let them do their job. The two loaders on the ramp empty the bed in less than 30 seconds then tap the bed twice. One guy shouts, “you’re good!” So I quickly get her in gear, backup beeper pinging before I wait for the box to link, applying throttle just as the truck clunks forward.

On the way back to the farm, I waffle a bit to think about what happened before I left. There is no way that Applejack of all people would give me these feelings. Even Twilight was a shock because she was quite a bit of a sleeper. Applejack’s different, probably because she fits the complete description. In all honesty, I should’ve seen it a mile away.

However, all of those positive attributes need to stack up against what I know about her that would make us butt heads. For example, us butting heads. She’s a very strong woman, and the exact same is true about her convictions. That’s enough to put us at odds more than I’d be comfortable with. Of course, it doesn’t help that she’s very, um… tigas ulo. Again, more than I’d bargain for. It still amazes me that Rosalina chose me. Applejack wouldn’t even want someone like me anyway.

When I return to the farm, Applejack finds me and rewards me with a bottle of their fizzy stuff. I enjoy it slowly but wait until she leaves to have a huff. Some of the dragon’s breath hangs around, but a nice breeze sends it mostly away. Naturally, I try and get another huff in, but just as I exhale, Applejack turns around.

“You smoke, sugar cube?”

“Yeah. I relapsed a couple months ago.”

“Dang. I’m sorry.”

“Who said I was avoiding relapse?” I quip as I have another huff.

“What??” She snaps back nervously.

“Who said I was avoiding a relapse?”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why would you not want to avoid relapse?”

“I quit for my wife. Won’t be the case for much longer. I ain’t worried. Gives me a chance to get some fresh air.” I say as I take another huff.

“Horseapples! That stuff’s bad for you and you know it!”

“If it is, then how have I not died yet?”

“It‘ll getcha one of these days!” She says back to me as she heads inside.

“Ha! I’ll kill myself before smoking does!”

That statement is enough to throw Applejack way off balance.

“Say what now?” She shouts frozen in her footsteps.

Knowing she’ll pin me against the truck, I quickly open the door and jump in as she starts running back to me. Locking the doors just as she reaches the truck, she tugs on the handle a couple of times before she bangs on the glass and shouts, “What did you just say?” “Max!” “MAX!” “SPLIT! SCIMITAR! IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT IS HOLY, YOU ARE GOING TO TELL ME WHAT YOU JUST SAID!”

Thinking to myself, “oh shit. She just called me by my real name,” I lower the window just a crack after she backs off.

“Yes?” I respond innocently.

“What did you just say?”

“You heard me.”

“What. Did. You. Say?!”

“I said I’ll fly before smoking kills me.”

“That is NOT what you just said.” She says as she charges for me again. Naturally, I close the window and wait for AJ to calm herself. “You better tell me this time or so help me I will…”

“Fine.” I respond by raising my hand and lowering the window. “I said I’ll kill myself before smoking does.”

“You what?!”

“You heard me. I’ll kill myself, before smoking does.”

“I… uh,…”

“Go ahead. I’ll wait.”

“Why in the world would you say something like that?” She asks coming out of her stupor.

“Just my sense of humor.”

“Uh, okay?”

“You’ll get used to it, unless you don’t want me around anymore.”

“I never said that. It’s just a little shocking is all.”

“I’m secretly a doctor, minus the M.D., but I do have the wicked sense of humor, crippling student loan debt, and the handwriting.”

“That’s funny.” She chuckles. “The other one, not so much.”

“It’s what I do.”

“Come here, sugar cube!” She says backing up and offering her arms.

“How do I know you’re not gonna hug me to smithereens?”

“You’ll just have to trust me.”

“Fine.” I say as I close the window and open the door.

I stand next to her and just as I expected, Applejack pulls me in and hugs me with the crushing force of a car press. A couple of vertebrae crack as her hug tightens still. As much as I’d love to wrap my arms around her too, I can’t. She’s got my arms pinned.

Apple Bloom returns a few moments later, and upon seeing her older sister hugging me, laughs.

“So, you finally came clean, huh sis?”

Applejack mustn’t’ve heard her, so Apple Bloom decides to sandwich me. I can’t feel her join the hug anyway, seeing as by this point, AJ’s vice-like grip has cut off all circulation below my chest, but the hug continues.

When both sisters let go, they blush because Big Mac has to snap them out after seeing me redder than a beet.

“Apple Bloom? What’re you doing here?” AJ asks.

“I thought we were group hugging.” She says coyly.

“Could be just as well.” I wheeze out.

“No, it isn’t that. I, uh…”

“I told her about some new developments in my divorce. I don’t know if she told you, but after I dropped Rosalina off at the holidays, AJ was with me when Rosalina said, ‘I want a divorce.’

“Oh my gosh!”

“At least I can say ‘my wife left me right before she left with her brother.’”

“Phrasing!” Applejack shouts back, but her sister can only laugh.

“That’s hilarious!” Apple Bloom exclaims dying of laughter.

“Apple Bloom! His wife wants to divorce him and all you can do is laugh?!”

“It’s okay. I came up with that one myself.” I say as Apple Bloom keels over in laughter.

“Left with her brother! That’s gold!” She exclaims struggling for breath.

“In all seriousness though, Max. I want you to know that we care about you. We love you. We all do.”

“Thanks for the support. I have trust issues with word of mouth, so sorry if I don’t drop my façade of eternal depression.”

“Max?” Apple Bloom says as she comes down from her laughing fit. “You have depression?”

“No, but I was suicidal. I keep the mindset around though, as a defense mechanism.”

“What do you mean?”

“Apple Bloom…” I begin, but before I can say anything, AJ stops me.

“Alright, Max. That’s enough. Can I talk to you?” AJ asks me as she eyes her sister, “alone?”

“Alright, but don’t forget the condom!” AB retorts as she runs off laughing.

“Some people.” I say trying to cut the tension.

“Some days. Listen, uh, I don’t want you to think you’re unwelcome, but can you try and cut back on your dark humor? It’s nothing personal, I just don’t feel comfortable with you saying that stuff, especially around the family.”

“I’m sorry. Dark humor is a defense mechanism, and I guess I’m just nervous.”

“Nervous? What do you have to be nervous about, sugar cube?” She asks with a smile.

“You have no idea.”

“I know you’re hiding stuff from me, but still. I’d rather you not say those things.”

“Oh alright then.” I respond as she nods, gives me a much lighter hug than the last time, and heads inside. I toss out the dead sticks, put some fresh ones on deck, and head for my next task.

Having picked all the ripest and readiest apples for immediate delivery, Apple Bloom takes all but a few crates on another local run. The ones that end up with me aren’t going to the shipping center. These are going to the farmhouse. Why? Here’s a hint: “Let me guess: Toast? Nope.”

After Apple Bloom leaves on her final run, AJ and has me back in to block the farmhouse entrance. After I usher in crates with her help, Big Mac pours the crates into a press and calls me over.

“Can you core all these apples? We’re making applesauce.”

“Why not?”

“Here. Save yourself some time.” He says handing me a corer.

I’m a slow worker apparently, because when Apple Bloom returns, I’ve gone through a few bushels. She then comes in and hip checks me, strong enough to knock me off station and straight into the press.

“Man, you’re slow.” She says as she makes quick work of coring.

I only respond by ignoring her as she cores apples faster than I can catch the unusable cores in the refuse bin. When she finishes my batch of apples, the slices head into large pots for boiling before a large portion of ready-to-stomp apples get loaded into the press.

“Looks like they’ve got everything under control here.” I whisper to myself. “Time for a cigarette.”

I sneak out the barn door and check for fresh sticks. I take one and hide on the other side of the truck to have a few huffs.

“Max!” AJ calls faintly from the garage.

I don’t respond, instead nonchalantly continuing to smoke.

AJ calls again.

“Max! Where are ya?”

I wait for a third call.

“Max!”

“Yes?” I respond putting myself in their view.

“Are ya deaf or what?”

“No, I was thinking. What’s up?”

“You’ve been doing an awful lot of that!”

“Well, what do you expect? I’m an introverted, antisocial, homebody. The last place you’ll see me is with people.”

“I’m calling Horseapples on that right now. If you were antisocial, you’d create ways to keep yourself away from people, now come here.”

“What do you need?” I ask as I step right in front of her.

“I need you to move your truck. Now that we’ve loaded the apples for stomping, you’re blocking the sun.”

“Kk.”

I move the truck to right in front of the entrance to the house, wondering where the others’ trucks are. Even Apple Bloom’s truck, which I heard before she kicked me off core duty, is nowhere to be seen.

When I climb out, I continue on the stick before the three siblings jump into the press and start stomping. Granny Smith comes in from the back door and takes a seat on her chair to monitor the sauce production.

“You seem to have all this under control, so I’ll be around if you need anything.”

“Where are you going?”

Author's Note

Tigas Ulo is Tagalog for “hard headed” or “stubborn.”

I have a weakness for Southern Blondes, apparently.