Glorified

We were not far from getting me killed when Miss Pinkie called to know if we were on our way back yet. The wedding night is going to be something else if that was just a preview. Reluctantly, we made our way back, I played the best surprised character I could, and accepted Mister Cheese’s blessing along with every plan Miss Pinkie had made. Since it is traditionally the mare’s family that pays for the ceremony, Miss Pinke had plans to arrange everything. We were going to be married in Ponyville Castle with Princess Twilight officiating and all our friends and family are going to be there. Or Miss Pinkie might roll some heads. The first wedding of her children was going to be a party to never forget and it was going to be an all-day event.

Dad was happy for me, Mom was a mess, and my little brother was like, ‘yeah, I knew this was how it was going to go.’ Chesette’s family wasn’t quite as enthusiastic about it. On the one hoof, it was the most begrudging acceptance Mister Cheese could possibly give, and Miss Pinkie was trying to give me names for her grandkids. I don’t know why they all started with D, but she also said there would be a room for us at the castle that night with ‘everything we’d need’ which is not something you hear every day. Her older sister looked a little lost, Cotton was a little disturbed, and Cheese junior was our friend and also knew this had been coming for a while. It was overall a positive reaction, and a decent party since that’s kinda what Miss Pinkie does.

The next day, we started looking into apartments or places we could move into and it occurred to me that maybe we should just get a house. It’s not as if I don’t have the money for this, and even if we have to move later due to the number of ponies increasing, it’d still be a few years before then.

But then, the warning came.

“You know if you sink a bunch of money into getting a house, you’re gonna have to afford maintenance and everything that comes with it, right? That means your career is sorta locked in, buddy.”

It was the thing I’d avoided thinking about all weekend. One week has passed. To do what I really want, to make a life with her, I have to keep this up. It can’t be a ‘try it and leave if I don’t like it’ kind of thing anymore. This is the kind of money I’ll need to feed us and a bunch of kids down the line, and I’m not inheriting an orchard, a clothing company or a bakery to do it with. It’ll be up to me.

To make morning practice, I flew back to Cloudsdale Sunday night. Along with a talk I need to have with Spitfire, I also had a couple of invitations to deliver to my other three grandparents.

Grandpa Bow and Grandma Windy were ecstatic to hear the news and wished me all the best. I had another invitation to deliver, but later in the week we’ll have dinner together and talk about it. While it’s not too much to me, a three-hour flight is a lot for ponies over three times my age, so they only visit us a few times a year and mostly by air balloon. Grandma Downy actually knows Cheesette better than they do, so there’s a lot to say. It should be a fun evening.

What I was unsure about, however, was this next invitation. There was a day Dad and I came to visit Grandpa Hang Glider and Sweet Wing, and I think he and Dad got into a fight. I’d been playing with blocks so I didn’t hear any of the conversation, but we never went back to Grandpa’s house after that. He only came to see me perform from time to time, and they’d come over for Hearth’s Warming every other year.

Approaching the door to that old white house made of cloud and without so much as a decoration, it stood out in the cookie-cutter neighborhood for how… unremarkable it was. This was exactly how I remembered it, and were it not for the lights on inside, I wouldn’t be sure anypony even lived here. All the same, I took a breath, walked up, and knocked on the door.

After a few seconds, I heard hoofsteps inside and the door opened to Sweet Wing. It genuinely strikes me every time I see her just how much she resembles Grandma Downy. Same colors, same statures, and if Grandma Downy hadn’t been smoking most of her life, she’d probably still be as pretty as Sweet Wing, even in her old age.

“Oh, Prism! Long time no see! What are you doing here, sweetie?”

I held up the invitation Miss Pinkie had made. “I’m here to deliver an invitation. Is Grandpa Hang home?”

She turned back into the house. “Hang Glider, Prism is here.”

“He is?” Grandpa came out of the kitchen and stared at me like he didn’t recognize me. I guess it has been about a year and a half since I saw him. “Well, don’t just stand there, come in, buddy. We were just about to have dinner. Have you eaten yet?”

I was just gonna be lazy and get some fast food before I went back to the barracks, but this was okay too. “I haven’t.”

“Then this’ll be good for a young stallion like yourself.” I followed Sweet Wing into the kitchen and watched as Grandpa took a fish filet out of the fridge and set it with a pair he was preparing. He had oil in a cast iron skillet, egg wash and bread crumbs on the counter with steamed vegetables already on the table. “I caught a couple catfish this morning and wasn’t sure what I was going to do with all the meat. You’ll be a big help.”

“Oh, sure, Grandpa. I’m always down for food.”

Sweet Wing sat at the table with me. “So what was this about an invitation?”

I gave the envelope to her. “I’m getting married on the sixth.”

“You wha—ah, damn it!” The fish he’d been carefully putting into hot oil dropped. It splashed all over his hoof and he ran for a towel to wipe it off.

“Hang, are you alright?” Sweet Wing asked, wings out ready to jump.

He shook his hoof, wiped it one more time, then threw the towel back on the counter. “I’m fine, it’s just oil.” He took a breath, checked on the fish once, then turned his full attention on me. “Married?”

“Yeah. I think you met my marefriend Cheesette once, didn’t you?”

Grandpa looked to Sweet Wing. “Did we?”

And she thought, interestingly tilting the opposite way that Grandma Downy usually does. “At a Hearth's Warming party maybe? Prism, do you have a picture?”

“Our prom photo from last year is on the invitation.”

She opened it up to see the very pink, heart- and balloon-covered, rainbow-striped invitation miss Pinkie had made up. Our picture was in the center, with her in that tight little blue dress and me in a suit and my yellow tie. Another night in which Mister Cheese would’ve actually crucified me if we’d been caught. A good picture and a fond memory.

“Oh, yes, I remember her,” Sweet Wing announced. “Goodness, it’s been a long time, hasn’t it? Three years now?”

“Yes, we’ve been together since my sophomore year of High School.”

Grandpa took the first filet out and put in another one, much more carefully this time. After that, he came to look at the picture. “Ah, right, the pie mare.” He rubbed his face, clean-shaven as always under the now totally gray mane. “Three years, huh? Awful young to be getting married, buddy.”

“Uh, what makes you say that?”

He turned back to flip the fish. “Just that you’re very young is all. You’ve got a lot of life to live, married to this mare.”

I wasn’t sure what he was getting at. “I mean, that’s the plan. It’s still a little crazy for me to think about since I’ve been waiting for this for so long, but like, I figure we’ll have a kid by next year.”

Grandpa nearly made the same mistake he did the first time with the third filet. He paused, then slowly lowered the fish into the oil, then turned back on me. “A kid? Prism, buddy, you’re eighteen! Fine, get married, you’ve been with this mare for long enough, but at eighteen? There’s a world out there to see, places to go, things to learn! If you knock her up right off the bat, then that’s it! You’re stuck in one place for twenty years or more given the way your generation is.”

I put my hooves together. “Look, Grandpa, if I weren’t entirely certain that her dad would actually murder me for it, I’d probably already have a kid by now. There’s gonna be a kid, or maybe a lot of them in the future.”

He stared at me for a long time. “You’re dead set on that, huh?”

“I have been trying to get her dad’s approval for, like, a year now. We’re graduated, I have a job, I’ve met the conditions. This is my dream.”

He puffed out his muzzle. “Alright, buddy, that’s fair. If… that’s what you really want, then I hope you have the time of your life.” He pulled the last filet out of the skillet, plated them, and brought them to the table for us. “Sweet, let me see that.”

“Sure, Hang.” She passed him the card and he read all the details.

His eyebrows raised. “Ponyville Castle, eh? Your… mother knows the princess, doesn’t she?”

I nodded. “She does, but Miss Pinkie arranged all this. They were both Princess Twilight’s friends back in the day. There'll be a lot of families there, not just ours.” And then I thought about one particular guest. “Uh, Grandma Downy is gonna be there too, by the way.”

Sweet Wing immediately became uncomfortable and began nervously doling out broccoli.

Grandpa’s frown was instant and hard. “Where’d you dig her up from?”

The words are ‘not over it.’ “She’s been living in Ponyville for the last forty or so years, I think. Dad had been going to see her on Mother’s Day every year since he found her, and a few years ago, he patched things up with her. We see her pretty frequently, actually.”

Grandpa licked his lips, set the invitation down, and held his hooves out. “Let’s say grace and eat. Fish’ll get cold.”

And that topic was quickly dropped. A little bit after digging into the food, Sweet Wing asked, “So, Prism, what is it you’re doing for work? Are you with a construction company or something now?”

Ah, another landmine. “Ah, you know, I, uh… I work for Thunderaid.” Which is the truth.

Grandpa stared holes into me. “You? With Thunderaid? Did you become a corporate salesman in the past year or something? Soarin has never mentioned your grades being stellar.”

“Well, it was a surprise to me too. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do when an email about the job just showed up one day.”

“Oh!” Sweet Wing had figured it out, but then covered her mouth. “That’s… very lucky then! I think it’s great that you've got a career right out of High School, Prism.”

This was a way out, so I took it. “Thanks, I make pretty good money now. Grandpa, this fish is really good, what did you say it was?”

He stuck a fork in his and pulled a bit of the meat out. “It’s catfish. They’re rather abundant down in Abyssal Lake.” He chewed on it for a while. “While I understand that you’ve come to deliver wedding invitations, what are you doing in Cloudsdale this late on a Sunday? Don’t you have work in the morning?”

“I work here.” Oh, dumb, why did you say that?

Grandpa put his hooves together and leaned over. “Prism, do you happen to work for Thunderaid as a Wonderbolt?”

I sighed. “Yes.”

Grandpa leaned back in his chair and ran a hoof through his mane. “Ah, they got another one! That punk told me he wasn’t going to do this to you. I was sure after you got your talent you’d find something to do with that, but no, they got you too.” Then he paused, holding a hoof out. “Wait a minute, didn’t Soarin tell me you got a D in meteorology? How in the world did you pass the exam?”

Well, so much for that. I really am a crap liar. “So, this is kind of a long story.”

And over dinner, I told them that very long story. From Effie’s call to the sponsorship deal to my talk with Spitfire to my first week in the 'Bolts. I have never known grandpa all that well, but he seemed very invested in this, like he was confirming something at every point in the story. When I was finished, he threw his fork on his plate.

“What do ya know it, things really don’t change do they?” He shook his head mournfully. “You ought to flip ‘em the bird and walk away, buddy. Things aren’t about to get better if they’re putting you up on a pedestal like that.”

“Hang Glider!” Sweet Wing shouted.

He scowled at her. “What? That’s prime advice!”

“His situation and yours are two different things, Hang. You don’t know if things will go badly!” She turned to me and put a reassuring hoof on my shoulder. “Soarin was an excellent Wonderbolt, and I’m sure you can turn things around, don’t listen to Hang.”

“Okay, like, thanks, but what are you talking about? Grandpa, weren't you a Wonderbolt too?”

Like I’d shot him, he grabbed at his chest. “Gah! No, I wasn’t. You have work tomorrow, don’t you? You ought to go wherever you’re staying at and sleep. Thanks for the invitation, we’ll see you in two weeks.”

He got up from the table, and so did Sweet Wing. “Hang Glider, don’t you dare run away from this again!”

Grandpa turned back to her, grinding his teeth. “Run away!? I didn’t run away from anything! I did my time, that’s all buried history, and it needs to stay that way!”

Sweet Wing looked genuinely angry, and I never knew she was capable of it. “I swear to the Goddess this is the last time, Hang! I watched you fight with Soarin for forty years about this, and I’m not about to sit by and let you do it again to your grandson!”

He froze, real terror on his face. “What are you saying, Sweet Wing?”

She lowered her muzzle. “You know what I’m saying, Hang.”

I did not know what she was saying on the other hoof, and didn’t know what this fight was about or why they were having it. What I did know is that I should probably try to defuse this situation. “Uh, I mean, I work in Cloudsdale now, so I’ll be here all week. I can come back.”

As if I’d some to his rescue, Grandpa marched over and gave me a big hug. “That’s a wonderful idea, Prism buddy. You come back… whenever you feel like it this week, and we can… we can…”

Sweet Wing let out a breath, and with it, her anger. “Please forgive your grandfather, Prism. I’ll set up a time later. Could you send me your schedule?” She went to the living room and picked up her phone. “Come to think of it, I’m not sure I have your number.”

I took my phone from around my neck and opened up my contacts. “Sure. If you press this icon, I can just…” I tapped the two devices together, and my information showed up on her screen. “There.”

She blinked at it. “Wow! I didn’t know it could do that.”

“I’ve been around these things all my life so I’m not bad at using them.” I looked over at Grandpa who’d taken on a thousand-yard stare at the floor. “Is he gonna be alright? We really don’t—”

“He will be fine. This needs to happen, it’s been too long. I’ll tell your father when I figure out when we’re going to do this.” She rubbed at her chin. “Honestly, I’d even invite Downy if she could be here. They only met in the first place because of it.”

Oh, that’s… this is serious, huh? “Really?”

“I don’t want that old rat in my house! You keep her away from me!”

Sweet Wing stamped a hoof. “Hang Glider, it has been nearly forty years! If Soarin has made peace with her, then you need to get over yourself too!”

He stamped his hoof right back. “I will do no such thing! She’s the one who ran out on us, she’s the one who attacked her own son! She doesn’t deserve my forgiveness!”

She marched right up to him and stared him down in spite of the height difference. “I am sick and tired of this! Downy and the Wonderbolts have been haunting you ever since you were in your twenties! I’ve been here waiting for you all this time and you still haven’t shaken off these old ghosts! I gave up everything for you and it’s about time you paid me back!”

Grandpa’s eye twitched and I wanted nothing more than to leave. This was getting real, fast. “And what is it I haven’t paid you back for? Did I miss the part where love is supposed to be a transaction or something? My home, my money, my work! I’ve given you the life you have, what do you think I owe you!?”

It happened in the blink of an eye. The sound, the hoof print, the reaction. She was stunned to have done it, and he was stunned to have been hit.

She looked at her hoof, unable to believe she’d actually done what she just did. “I… am going to visit my sister this week.”

Sweet Wing moved toward their bedroom and Grandpa ran after her. “Wait, Sweet Wing, I’m sorry!”

He managed to get a hoof on her back and she turned on him like a cat. “Don’t touch me!”

That was even worse than the slap. Grandpa fell to his haunches. Sweet Wing slammed the bedroom door behind her. After a minute of uncomfortable silence, she came back out with a purse and a small bag. She looked disdainfully at Grandpa then headed for the door. She gave me one last look before leaving. “I’m sorry you had to see this, Prism. I’ll be in touch.”

When the front door shut, I was left alone with Grandpa. I really, really wanted to just bolt out of there and pretend like I’d not seen anything, but I definitely couldn’t leave him like this. I’d never seen anypony fight like this before. This was something that only happened in movies, this was gossip that somepony told somepony else. I should not have seen this. But I had to do something.

“G-Grandpa?”

His ears twitched. He looked at me as if he’d forgotten I was here. He felt his cheek, still throbbing from where the hoof had hit it. “I’m… I’m sorry, Soarin—” He shook his head. “Prism.” He grabbed his head, trying to steady it.

The dishes and leftovers were still on the table. “Do you… want me to clean up the kitchen?”

He stood up, letting his head droop, dragging his hooves to the kitchen. “No, no, this is… this is my job. You go on wherever you need to be, I… I need to be alone right now.”

I felt bad about it, but this was the exact opportunity I’d been looking for since the fight started. “O-okay, Grandpa. I’ll… see you later.”

He didn’t even look up at me. He simply pulled out some plastic wrap and started covering things.

I think I’ve majorly screwed up here somehow and I’m not sure how it happened, but I was told to go, so I went. I closed the front door without hearing another word. I wasn’t sure what to do or who to tell about this, so in the end, I didn’t tell anyone. I flew back to my room in the barracks, brushed my teeth, and went to bed.