There was a mat just outside the door. A worn, mud-stained thing which read, ‘Home Sweet Home.’ Applejack stared at it for an extra few seconds, trying to figure if Sunset put it there out of dark humor or a genuine effort to make Canterlot High’s dilapidated recreation building feel like a home.
She looked up, taking in the caved-in, snow-covered roof before letting out a sigh. The cold weather probably kept down the centipedes and spiders who made the building their own, but it still was no place to live. If she had learned sooner…
No point in backtracking. She courteously scraped her boots off on the mat then stepped into the filthy interior. “Sunset! You there!?”
“Down here!”
The basement – good. Cooler in the summer, warmer in the winter. Such as it was. Applejack walked down the concrete stairs to a prison-like hallway of stone and unshod lights. She took off one glove, shivered, then slipped it back on.
A turn brought her to Sunset’s room – again, such as it was. A mattress in the corner (Sweetie Belle’s old one), a few shelves of stacked milk cartons, and a desk purloined from the school.
And… a painting easel. A tray for mixing colors, and a small handful of brushes and tubes. Five painting-sized packages sat on one of the milk cartons, each wrapped with overpriced holiday paper. Sunset stood in the midst of it all, clad in a bathrobe over her leather jacket, over a sweater. A smudge of green was on her cheek, and she beamed to her guest.
“Hi, AJ! Merry Christmas, two days early.”
Applejack gave a half-hearted wave, not quite able to smile. “Here as advertised. You said you needed a lift… uh, everywhere?”
“To everyone’s house,” Sunset said, shrugging out of the bathrobe and snatching up her phone. “We’re all going to be too busy over the next few days what with the family and parties and everything, so I want to get the girls their presents now. Thanks for this, big-time.”
Applejack pushed her hat down a little lower, warming the tips of her ears. “Shucks, you didn’t need to do all this. You least of all.”
She winced the moment the words left her mouth as back came the inevitable retort. “No, me most of all. It’s been less than three months since the Fall Formal and you all have been angels to me. I can at least do this.”
Applejack picked up the stack for Sunset. One of the packages had her name on it. “I’d rather you spend the money on… you know.”
“Rent?” Sunset shook her head as they left to the hallway. “It’s a couple mixing paints and five small canvases. I could save and still be at rock bottom, or I could spend it on people who matter.”
“Like yourself?”
“This is for me.”
Snow drifted on their heads before they left the building. Sunset slipped on a pair of earmuffs, going on with intense certainty. “I’m not an idiot, AJ. I wouldn’t do this if it was going to kill me. But life is so much more than just surviving, you know? Life is living. Life is… making the world better because I’m here. For once. Having an imprint, a good one. Being poor doesn’t remove my ability to do that.”
She sucked in her lips as the wind hit them outside. “So… can we drop it?”
Applejack gave an unhappy shrug. “Sure thing.”
Sunset carefully buckled the paintings on the rear bench of Applejack’s pickup, then climbed in by her side. “Okay, so I’ve got it mapped out to make the drops with the shortest route possible. Rainbow’s house first, then Pinkie’s.”
“Heck, Sunset, I have all day.” Applejack laughed, giving a painfully self-conscious effort to be nonchalant. “Come over my house first. Y’all can gift me and help me hang up the picture.”
“I wouldn’t want to bug you like that,” Sunset said quickly, earning a quiet sigh. “It’s just ten minutes from here to Rainbow, let’s go.”
Applejack revved the truck. Her cassette player sprang to life, halfway through ‘Ode to Joy.’
She slapped it off, no longer in the mood. “I’m surprised. Never would’ve guessed you to be big on Christmas, being from another world and all.”
Sunset’s eyes drifted out the window as they pulled to the street. “We have something like it. Hearth’s Warming. Carols, garland, eggnog, good cheer, a consumerist toy industry… everything but the religion.”
She paused, then chuckled. “We kinda have that, too. Supposedly the love and kindness shared each Hearth’s Warming keeps the Windigoes at bay, and if we ever lose our Hearth’s Warming spirit they’ll return and blanket the world in ice.”
Applejack released a low whistle. “You think that’s true?”
Sunset’s chuckle turned to a laugh. “Of course not, it’s just a story. But who cares, right? It’s all about the spirit of things: friends, family, love, and food.”
“Right,” Applejack mused. “Your invite is still open, you know.”
“I’d just get in the way,” Sunset said quickly.
“What about the ‘friends’ part?”
Sunset pointed to the back seats. “That’s what we’re doing now. Visit with the girls, watch them open their gifts, nice and quick so I don’t mess up their holiday plans.”
“Too late,” Applejack said under her breath. She shot off a quick text at a red light then went on the rest of the way to Rainbow’s house. They walked up the driveway together, with Sunset clutching a present and Applejack quietly plotting her next move.
Sunset rapped hard on the door. The windows were dark. Applejack opened her mouth, then closed it.
Another knock. No answer.
“You win some, you lose some,” Applejack declared with what she hoped wasn’t a suspicious level of cheer. “Hey, I’m a bit hungry. Want to come over my place for lunch?”
“No, I can’t make you babysit me all day.” Sunset glared at the door, missing Applejack’s sigh. “We’ll head to Pinkie’s and come back later.”
“I am sorry, Miss Shimmer. She’s not at home.”
Pinkie’s dad was old – far moreso than what Applejack’s would have been if he was still around. Grey-white sideburns rolled down his face, flanking a frown as cold as it was misleading. He was a good guy.
Sunset breathed out in some mix of frustration and disappointment. Igneous Rock gave Applejack a pointed glance, then looked back to Sunset. “You may leave it here, if you like. She will be most appreciative.”
“No. Thank you.” Sunset scratched a stray hair from her ear. “It’s not the same. It’s not just a package I’m delivering, but a gift from me to her. It should be in-person. We’ll move on and try to catch her later.”
“I understand,” Igneous said. “Wait a moment, Miss Shimmer.”
He went inside, then returned with a foil-wrapped loaf of bread and a tin of cookies. “Take these for yourself. The bread is an old family recipe, and Pinkie has indulged her usual tradition of baking entirely too many treats.”
Sunset accepted the gifts with mumbled thanks and carried them to the car. Applejack turned to follow when Igneous’ stern tone interrupted.
“Young lady, Pinkie told me what is to happen today. Don’t you think it’s time you took charge of things?”
“Yep,” Applejack said tightly. She tipped her hat, then departed.
Sunset studied a map on her phone as they pulled from the driveway. “So… it’s not ideal, but if we swing to Rarity’s now, we can make a reverse loop and be back on this side of town soon to check on Pinkie and Rainbow.”
“Okay,” Applejack said. She didn’t even catch where they were supposed to go now. “Let’s stop at my place first.”
Sunset shook her head. “No, Applejack. This is a precious winter vacation day, I can’t monopolize you indefinitely.”
That shit again. Applejack felt a frustrated warmth build in her chest. She grappled with what to say as they drove – never was very good with words and feelings and all that mushy crap. That was Rarity’s alley.
She missed the first few calls of her name. “Yo, AJ! We’re going the wrong way.”
The houses outside the window were slowly turning to farms. Applejack shook her head. “No we ain’t.”
“Rarity’s house is–”
“Not where we’re going.”
Applejack licked her lips. Swallowed. Nothing for it but to try and explain. “Three months later and you still don’t know much about friendship. I ain’t ‘babysitting’ you, and you ain’t ‘monopolizing’ me. We’re friends spending time together. Friendship ain’t about being nice and inoffensive and scrambling to get out of the way so people can live their lives without you. It’s being a part of people’s lives. On the holidays, too.”
She grunted. “This was supposed to be a slick little surprise, but… heck, wait and see.”
Mystified and thoughtful, Sunset obeyed. It began snowing; not even enough for Applejack to turn on the wipers. Just enough to be pretty. White covered the flat farms to each side of them, broken up by the lights and garland of homes.
Applejack clicked the music on. ‘Ode to Joy,’ right where it left off. “Mortals, join the happy chorus, which the morning stars began; Father Love is reigning o’er us, Brother Love binds man to man…”
She felt a smile grow as they turned into Sweet Apple Acres. Her big, red house loomed before them. She turned again, down one of the side lanes through the orchard.
Sunset broke the quiet. “Your house is that way.”
“Yep.”
“So where are we going?”
Applejack beamed as something blue loomed out through the trees. “Um, so back in great-Grandpear’s time, the seasonal workers couldn’t just bus or drive to the farm each day. We had barracks for them to sleep in, which are long gone, but also a little guest house for cooking and first aid.”
Another turn. The peaked roof of the squat little house came into sight.
Two cars were parked in front – Rarity’s and Rainbow’s. So much for any surprise, but Applejack could only chuckle at it.
“And we’re here because…?” Sunset trailed off, then gave a laugh. “Oh, I get it! Like sorority girls, you know? Christmas party at our own little getaway, without any adults around to say we’re too loud.”
Applejack didn’t correct her. They both got out, with Sunset stopping to collect her precious paintings. She hefted them through the snow, and Applejack swung open the new-painted door.
“Surprise!” Four girls popped streamers for her, followed by Rainbow adding “Wait, it’s just Applejack.”
Applejack rolled her eyes and stepped to the side, revealing Sunset.
“Surprise!” they yelled again. Pinkie Pie blew into a party whistle.
“A surprise Christmas party? Aw, you guys!” Sunset set her load down on a worn, modern easy chair and took her first look around. “Wow, you all went all-out!”
‘All-out’ as far as decorations go apparently meant a few lines of garland and a small plastic tree. Plus Christmas cookies, of course, and a bucket of Colonel’s chicken for food.
But there was so much more. An electric griddle, a mini-fridge, a shower. A table that used to be in Fluttershy’s basement and six mismatched chairs from thrift stores across the city. A couch that was unfashionable thirty years ago. A bedframe with a mattress and pillows.
And one, oblivious girl. All Sunset could think to do was hand out her own presents. Cheap canvases and a handful of colors, but each one personal. For Pinkie, a couple dancing under explosions of confetti. Fluttershy, a hare and a fox dozing together in spring.
Sunset ran her hand along a wall, laughing. “You even painted the place? Wow, Applejack. That’s a lot for a party.”
Rarity arched an eyebrow at Applejack. Applejack shrugged. Rarity gave a meaningful cough and tilted her head towards Sunset.
Applejack sighed, then nodded. “Hey, Sunset?”
“Yeah?”
“You like the house?”
“Um… yeah?”
Rarity slapped her forehead. Applejack shrugged again, turning to face Sunset fully. “Great. It’s yours.”
She fancied she could see the gears click into place. The new paint, the old furniture. Sunset paused with water halfway to her mouth, then set it down. “You… you can’t.”
Applejack tried to smile kindly, hoping Sunset would follow suit. “I just did.”
“It’s too much,” Sunset said, frantically shaking her head. “I can’t ask you to–”
“To get a friend out of some basement?” Applejack took a long stride forward and gripped Sunset’s hands. “I told you. Friendship ain’t about staying out of the way. It’s looking out for each other. And-and it’s love, dang it. Nothing’s too much for love.”
Pinkie let out a low ‘Awwwww.’ Sunset kept shaking her head. “I don’t deserve this.”
Applejack rested her forehead to Sunset’s, ending the shake. “It’s a roof. It’s hots and a cot and God-given indoor plumbing, and there ain’t nobody on Earth who don’t deserve all that. We didn’t do anything but get you what you should’ve already had. Because you’re a person and a friend.”
“It’s too much,” Sunset said again. Tears were in her eyes, and Applejack felt her own.
She gave a hard, gross sniff. “It’s the bare minimum, girl. For anyone, but most of all for the kind of person who just wants to give her friends the best Christmas she can.”
Like cuddly sharks, the girls circled around their impromptu embrace and closed in. Sunset tried to say, ‘thank you,’ but a sob caught her halfway through. Applejack stammered an apology as her tears slid onto Sunset’s forehead.
The Christmas CD in Rainbow’s boom-box flipped to a new song, and triumphant music played throughout the house. The moment passed. The girls began exploring the nooks and crannies with greater interest, leaving Applejack alone on the thrift store easy chair admiring her own painting from Sunset: A chorus of angels dressed as a simple farmers, with straw hats on faces of light.
Applejack looked up to the new-painted ceiling, giving a sleepy, contented yawn as laughter and music mingled in perfect harmony.
“Mortals, join the happy chorus, which the morning stars began; Father Love is reigning o’er us, Brother Love binds man to man…”
Author's Note
Merry Christmas, my illustrious dudes. Especially you, Sane Marbles, I hope you enjoyed the story.
