Chapter 11: Take a Letter
When constructing a gingerbread house, most proficient bakery artisans like our Cakes suggest the following piece of advice.
"Remember that how you decorate the exterior of the house is as important as how well you build the interior."
It seems like an extraordinary thing to say. It seems to contradict all that we have learned in our lives about valuing what is within more than the superficial things on top.
That however makes the assumption that the decorations upon a gingerbread house are merely paltry additions. That assumes that they do not truly matter.
That is incorrect.
The decorations upon a gingerbread house tell us about what it is, how much care is put into it. Like a relationship, it must be adorned and allowed to grow… or it will just sit empty and flake away under the sun.
It would have been nice say that this thought was on Cup Cake's mind as she worked to prepare the surface of the gingerbread house for decoration, as she and Carrot got ready to adorn it with treats and sweets.
Instead all that was really on her mind was the single dollop of frosting that sat upon his nose…
… and how very much she would like to leap across the table and lick it off of him with long, slow movements.
Still, something inside her told her to desist. So, as they worked the house she simply stood there with the tube in her mouth, smiling a wicked smile and pondering how she was eventually going to get it off of him.
She would have to because, she knew, he would not remove it himself. He would not remove it because she had laid it there as a sign of her affection. He was content to let it sit there until the waters of the Well washed it from him, if need be.
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The blindfold was probably unnecessary for a taste-test, but as she wrapped it around his eyes and gave it a small tug with her teeth, he most certainly did not mind.
Under his tutelage, Cupcake was becoming more and more proficient as a baker. As their second spring together went on and on, it quickly became an amazing time, time for them to both firmly settle into the roles of "my other." As they had worked together, she had grown and learned. Watching her take on these new responsibilities and witnessing her working towards being a bigger part of the bakery had made Carrot very happy.
She had been a good baker to begin with, but as he taught her everything he knew, she had only grown. Though it was clear that he would still be the primary baker, knowing that she was there to aid him gave him strength.
Around him his bakery had come alive, filled with the touch of a mare who no longer felt the need to hide. Soon it was vibrant and welling with color.
The name was still pretty bad though.
He grimaced as he thought about that. He would need a new name soon, but the thought disappeared as her hoof dropped from his and the scent of many wonderful things caught in his nose. He lifted his hoof and immediately winced as it banged against the countertop.
"Oh, sorry!" she said, running her foreleg against where he had bumped it. "Here, let me get them for you…."
He sensed her near and knew that she had grabbed up one of the treats she had made. She was now nearby, holding it to him in her mouth.
He leaned to her and took a bite.
"Oh, apple strudel!" he said, instantly able to guess what she had made.
Her little laughs showed that he had been correct. Her hoof was to his again, and she led him to the next tray. With that, he took a bite of her next creation, quickly guessing it as she looked on.
"Ah, an éclair!" he answered, her giggles and the touch of her cheek being his reward.
So down the countertop they moved, Cupcake becoming confident as they went, Carrot more proud and happy for her. A dozen treats and pastries of all varieties had been laid there. Her growing talents had made each easily identifiable.
All too soon the last treat was reached. "Well," she said with a little sigh, "that's the end of that then…"
Inside an instant she felt the familiar touch of his lips to hers. It was welcomed, but not expected… and as he raised his head the blindfold still covered his eyes. He appeared to be pondering.
"Hmmm… sugar plum," he said before lowering his head again. Her smile grew as he touched his lips to hers once more, held them there as her taste flowed to him.
"Aha! Ginger snap…" he said without raising his head from her, moving down her neck and then planting a kiss along it as he slowly lifted his head. She leaned into it, chuckled as she realized the purpose of his game.
Once more he met her lips, let them remain there for a long moment, and then once more moved down her neck, let a trail of kisses remain behind.
"Honey bun…" he whispered into her ear as he moved to her other side, as she felt the soft, wet, warm pat of his lips across her cheek, neck, and chest.
As happy sounds began to lift from the kitchen, an older stallion in a crumpled stood by the cash register in the bakery showroom.
He realized that his entrance had somehow gone unnoticed. Feeling a little agitated that he had been left standing there, he went to where the sounds emanated to seek the shopkeepers.
Upon witnessing the pleasant scene that was developing within the kitchen, he quickly turned around, once more thankfully unnoticed, and made for the register.
There he left what he assumed was the proper price for his pie and a touch more, just to be safe. The blushing stallion then walked away as quietly as he could as the sounds that lifted from the kitchen became rather more immodest in nature.
As he left with his pie he did the two young ponies the favor of turning the sign upon the door to "Closed."
The old pony stared at the sign above the door, the one that read "Carrot Cake's Bakery Co., L.L.C., Inc." Having met the pair long before and in scenes less compromising, he wondered when the lanky stallion was going to add her to the sign. Only seemed proper, he thought at he went out into the street, what with how well the two fit together like that…
Although Carrot's thoughts were elsewhere at that moment, it would have made the old pony happy to know that Carrot had been thinking along very similar lines.
Thin, Fat, and Angry.
Quarry preferred the names that he had given the three colts, and inside his thoughts he addressed them as such.
A month and those many weeks had passed since the last time these three sat before him. Much had changed in the world of old stallion since they had visited the office, since they had made the proposal.
In that time, Quarry had been able to ponder a great many things. As he had, a lot of what he believed about the way the world worked had been called into question.
"So," he had said while looking them all over, each seeing that the finest of edges had come off of his sharp stare. "Most all of 'em chose to take ya' up on your offer. They're all yours… apart from this one."
Carrot Cake's Bakery Co., L.L.C., Inc.
The three colts looked the name over and then peered at one another with some small surprise. They could not imagine the circumstances that would make any pony want to stay with Quarry but, well, there it was in black and white. "Offer refused with thanks."
It simply added to the awkwardness that hung around the room, the presence of a fifth pony making things in the small room seem thick with breath and moisture.
"Well," laughed the thin colt as he tried to force some conversation into the room. "Can't say that I think much of the business sense of that one, eh?"
"Nothing wrong with him," breathed Quarry, drawing all of the oxygen out of the room as his voice rumbled around the walls.
Silence hung there for a moment, and the colts all looked at one another and wondered who would be the one to mention the obvious. The angry colt volunteered quickly.
"If that's the case," said the angry one with visible malice, "then you owe us a refund on the loan."
"Four hundred sixty seven bits," rolled the voice of Quarry. "Mah' secretary will write ya' a check…"
"Well, we will just be sure that's the correct amount first," said the angry one, eyeing him.
"It's the right amount," answered Quarry, "We had a deal."
"Well, we'd like to be… accurate," answered the angry colt. His smile grew as he got in his one chance to level his eyes upon Quarry, to have some small satisfaction of knowing he had gotten something out of him.
His smile faded quickly as Quarry stood and glared back down over the colt who suddenly blanched, his partners going ashen as the massive stallion began to swear. Quarry reached for a pile of papers atop the nearby cabinet. He tossed them before the angry colt.
"You callin' me a liar, colt!? It's all right there on the buckin' page, damn your coat! You want to know what a lie is, colt, let me tell about yer' father and…" began a spitting Quarry as his eyes started to go red.
At once the touch of a soft hoof to his drew him down, made him stutter to a stop.
"Dear," said Wishing Well, lifting herself slightly forward in her wheelchair.
Around the small room the five ponies sat in the musty heat of the late spring day as Quarry ran his hoof across his eyes and slowly regained his composure.
A lot had changed in the world of Quarry in those few weeks. Now he felt as though maybe, just maybe, he could escape the wrath… maybe find a way to live that didn't end with him having a stroke or a heart attack.
He looked back up to the colts. He gazed out over the three figures that sat still, each looking up to him. He gently pushed the paper towards the angry colt.
"It's all there on the page," he said while he sat down, taking Wishing Well's hooves in his own. "It's the same rates, same indexes that we talked about more than a month ago… we had a deal, but if you don't trust me, well, take it…"
The angry colt's jaw moved side to side. Quarry remembered himself making the same movements when Carrot had stood before him… the question of trust growing within him.
For the briefest of moments, Quarry wondered if this colt was on the same path he had been, if he had grown up not trusting, if he had grown up being fearful.
That fear dissipated as the colt looked back up to him and raised his hoof.
"No, no sir, we… we trust you," spoke the colt. "That number sounds about right, sounds right."
Quarry stood and leaned across the table. He shook the hoof of the angry colt and saw a look of sublime relief go across the three.
Inside minutes he was showing them to the door, the colts saying their goodbyes to Wishing Well as they raised themselves up from the crowded little office.
As he turned to leave, the angry colt felt Quarry's hoof upon his shoulder. The colt startled, jumped, and turned with the expectation of seeing the wrathful face of Quarry glaring down at him.
Instead he found the older stallion looking to the floor. As Quarry lifted his head he looked to the angry colt with something approaching supplication.
"Would… would you tell yer' father 'Hello' for me?" asked Quarry as he looked to the colt. "And I mean that… cordially, and all."
The angry colt nodded and promised in quiet tones that he would. As he left the office, Quarry closed the door behind him, leaving the angry colt to join his partners.
As the angry colt listened, his partners spoke with the secretary. "Oh, yes," she answered. "He is happier these days, today especially. He brought Wishing Well with him to receive an inquiry…"
The thin one and the fat one did their best to pry, but the third colt… the one who had formerly seemed angry, he simply looked around the room. The light came in through the large window, and the goldfish swam with happy flicks through the bowl.
"He wants me to… to greet dad for him," he whispered to himself, feeling decades of pent-up anger drifting out of him.
"… well, don't tell anyone I said so," said Paperclip, handing them the check and looking back towards the closed door, "but the nicest young stallion asked them both to come here this morning. He brought me a treat as he always does and then asked me to wish him luck."
She grinned a mischievous grin.
"He asked them if they would be alright with him asking their youngest daughter to marry him!" she giggled. "It's a touch old-fashioned, but isn't it just so romantic?"
Carrot Cake stood before the door to the familiar mansion with his saddlebags shifting around him.
As it came open, the figure of the butler, Serving Tray, appeared and blinked in the morning light. As his eyes adjusted, a smile grew on his face, and he recognized the caller.
"Young Mr. Cake, sir, good to see you again," said the butler as he raised his hoof in greeting. Carrot smiled, part of him still at odds with the funny sensation that being called "mister" brought with it.
"It's very nice to see you too, Tray. Would Miss Script be available by any chance?" he asked.
"Certainly, sir," intoned Serving Tray. "If you should like to follow me I shall announce you."
Together they went through the large hallway and public room to a small study. Carrot flipped around the fact he was being called "sir" a few times as proper ponies stared down over him from dark paintings upon the wall. As they approached the study, Serving Tray began to announce him. Before he had a chance, the figure of Ivory was already there at the door.
Serving Tray went off, slightly disappointed at being kept from one of the small duties he enjoyed.
As Ivory gave Carrot a small but welcome hug, the two turned back into the study.
"And what brings you around to my little warren, Carrot?" she asked, clearing space in an overstuffed chair for him.
"If you're not too busy… I mean I'm not interrupting, am I?" said Carrot, looking at the small mountain of papers and the wastebasket full of dulled quills.
"I most certainly am busy," she said with a giggle, "and I am very, very happy you interrupted! What can I do for you?"
Carrot replied to her smile with one of his own. Lowering his saddlebags to the floor, he pulled out some sheets of paper, some crumpled papers, and some wads of paper that went to the floor and bounced around.
"I have this writing project… one that's not going to well, Ivory, and I was hoping that maybe you might… help?" he asked as he watched her reach for some of his abortive attempts.
When she saw what he was attempting to write, she leapt up, ran her eyes across more of the pages.
Carrot had never heard Ivory make noises like that before. As she jumped to him, he caught her up in another hug, this one frenzied and filled with squeals of joy. Almost as though she were embarrassed, she asked to excuse herself, leaving Carrot alone in the room. As she went, she literally skipped like a filly in a schoolyard.
"I… that's a yes, right?" he asked the room in general. Nearby some more of her writing slid off a mountain of books. "Okay, good," he answered himself, smiling as he did so.
Serving Tray had turned back down the hallway, presuming that enough time had elapsed to ask if there were anything that they would like brought to them.
Upon seeing his young mistress standing against the wall with her hooves to her face, he immediately trotted forward in alarm.
"Miss Ivory! Miss Ivory, are you well?" he asked with his concern near the surface.
Ivory lowered her hooves and looked up to him with a massive smile. At the same time great wet tears rolled down her face.
She had done it. They had done it, all three of them. Cupcake was safe, the plan had worked, and now the cementing of that work was playing out before her. Her best friend would be so happy, and she would be so happy for both of them, was already so happy.
"Yes," she said, "I'm quite alright. Everything is wonderful… so, very wonderful! Could you please bring us some ice water, Tray, and perhaps something bubbly as well?"
"Do-do I look all right? Is my mane okay?" asked Cheesecake as she hovered beneath the lamppost.
Carrot had been thinking about the lamppost. For so long this had been the border of his world, how reaching this lamppost might as well have been attaining the edge of the known world.
Today he was bringing his mother to meet two ponies who inhabited a house that he had once only beheld from here, from this distant outpost of his knowledge.
Today, if all went well, he would open a new chapter in the journal of his journey with the mare who now stood with him. Cupcake moved to answer the questions that his mother floated out over them in her ephemeral tones.
"You look wonderful, Cheesecake," answered Cupcake as she ran her hoof over the foreleg of the older mare. "I'm sure momma and daddy and yourself will get along wonderfully, I know it."
"Oh, I-I hope so," said the thin older mare, "I-I don't want to embarrass either of you. Please, tell me if I'm doing something wrong…"
Together the three went up the sidewalk and up to the gate. As they approached the house, Carrot could see the figure of Quarry, as massive and imposing as ever. He stood behind Wishing Well as the mare sat in her wheelchair, the two making a proper portrait of how proper ponies should arrange themselves to meet somepony new.
Carrot heard his mother make a noise. At once he stopped and turned to her. Her ears were back, her hoof once more raised as though in surprise.
"No," she whispered under her breath, her head giving a small shake, "it… it can't be…"
"Mom, what…" he began, reacting to her expressions as they grew on her. His head flew up to the porch, saw Quarry staring on perplexed, saw Wishing Well…
…Cupcake's mother stood.
"Cheesecake?" floated the voice of the frail mare, wafting out and over the lawn and garden.
"Wishing Well?" replied his mother as her ears came fully up.
"Oh, Celestia! Cheesecake… Cheesecake!" called out Wishing Well in the loudest voice Carrot had ever heard her use, the loudest that Cupcake had heard her mother use in years.
As Carrot and Cupcake watched, their mouths hanging open in surprise, Cheesecake took off at a trot. Soon she was galloping, her hooves sounding out in solid thwacks upon the stairs.
Quarry joined the two in looking on aghast as Cheesecake and Wishing Well embraced each other, the two crying out aloud in happiness as big wet tears ran down their faces and their heads were laid upon the withers of the other.
"It's been forever! Oh Cheesy, how I've missed you!" called Wishing Well, her voice already starting to strain under her efforts.
"Wishy Washy, Wishy Washy, twenty five years or more! Oh, Celestia… Wishy Washy!" replied Cheesecake as she rocked the fragile mare gently.
More than twenty years ago, loud words had sounded out in a dance studio that doubled as an apartment that these mares had shared.
Whatever the context of that conversation, whatever had separated them, that flew away as the two stood there in the sunlight of the full spring. As the delicate mare hovered above her wheelchair, her tears washed over the thin, withdrawn mare who cradled her. With that an old friendship was reborn as the sounds of a spring morning sat across the porch.
Inside the house, a small buffet of sorts had been set out. As Carrot grazed over the selection, his eyes kept going to the door.
He listened as the conversation in the great vast living room of the house Quarry had built drew on and on. Soon the familiar sounds of "girl talk" began to lift from within. Soon Quarry joined him, the stallion retreating as a refugee from the presence and persistence of such conversation.
Carrot wished that he had become more comfortable around Quarry, that he could say that he now was within the confidence of the stallion. He could not. There still seemed to be a sort of wall there, one that he was allowed to cross but not without being measured against.
Carrot sighed and looked at the fixings for a dandelion sandwich, wondered if he wanted mustard. As he did he made room for Quarry, the big stallion giving a sigh, apparently distraught at the non-presence of the last few slices of cheese he had wanted.
"You eat the last of the cheese on me, Cake?" asked the stallion with a toss of his head.
"No, sir," said Carrot as he forced a chuckle, "I-I'm pretty sure it was the little colt out there…"
"Meh," answered Quarry, slowly moving away, "I can cut up some more…"
Carrot gave another sigh, knew that there was always going to be a distance between them. Quarry still called him "Cake"… but then again, he couldn't bring himself to call Quarry anything but "sir." There was something that was not clicking between them…
… then again, Quarry had lashed him with a whip. That's usually a stumbling block to any sort of relationship.
Wishing Well liked him well enough. She had patted his foreleg and called him "such a nice colt." That was more than he could have asked for. His eyes went to the door once more.
"You expectin' somepony, Cake?" asked Quarry as he stared at him from the icebox, a large block of cheese in his hoof.
"Yessir," answered Carrot, looking back to the door.
A knock prophetically sounded out from the entryway. Quarry looked down to Carrot and then to the door. With a few large, powerful steps he crossed out of the kitchen and towards the entryway.
He looked up to Carrot and then turned his head. He opened the door.
Quarry blinked in the sun, looked down over the familiar face of Ivory.
"Oh… Oh! Hello there, Miss Ivory, c'mon in," said that stallion, looking to Carrot. Carrot saw the confusion painted on his face, watched Quarry's expressions fly around as he greeted his best friend's daughter.
Soon Ivory turned to him with a sly look upon her face.
"Carrot!" she said, giving him a quick embrace. "Tell me, how did the recipe come out?"
"It mixed together quite well," he answered, watching the smile spreading across her face. "It mixed."
Ivory gave him another quick hug, sliding something among his hooves where his sandwich stood and then was off into the living room, her own saddlebag hanging upon her as her hooves sounded across the wooden floor.
Carrot and Quarry waited until the sounds of introductions had begun to die down before turning towards the living room.
"Cake…" came the rumbling voice.
Carrot looked up to see Quarry looking to him, saw something of an understanding growing in the older stallion. It had been a code… he knew.
Carrot stared back up to him, and to Quarry's surprise, Carrot tried to give him a hug. "Oh, the Well," said Quarry with a sound of exasperation, collecting the smaller stallion for a quick embrace as the knowledge of what was about to happen grew upon him.
With a toss of his head, Quarry nodded and ushered the younger stallion into the living room.
To Carrot's happiness, Cupcake came to sit beside him as soon as he had entered. He laid some of the things he had grabbed from the buffet before her. Four other mares, Cheesecake, Ivory, Ruby Quartz, and Wishing Well, watched Cupcake's nieces and nephew practice lines from a school play.
Carrot lifted his eyes to Ivory, caught hers inside a glance. A slight nod was his reply, and he tried to act casual, sipping at the cup awkwardly as it lay upon the floor.
"Oh, Cuppy," spoke Ivory, "I received a letter for you. It seems it came to me by accident. I brought it with me."
"Huh!" replied Cupcake while she watched her nieces and nephew take a seat. "Imagine that!"
Silence hovered over the room.
"May-may I have it, Ive?" she asked.
"Of course…" replied Ivory, stopping to take a sip of her tea. "I've hidden it somewhere in this room."
"Wh-what?" asked Cupcake as she stood and trotted to where Ivory sat impassively.
"Come on now Ive, why'd you go and do something like that?" she asked, her tone slightly hurt.
"Don't be like that, Cuppy! Come on now, try to find it! Let's play at hot or cold!" giggled Ivory as she stared up at an annoyed Cupcake, the mare pounding one hoof into the floor. She began to criss-cross the room, listening to Ivory for hints.
"No, cold! Even colder, Cuppy! Ah, that way is warm, warmer… now why would you come back this way? You're cold again!" spoke Ivory while Cupcake's nephews and nieces cheered her on. Soon the room was evenly divided between those trying to help her and those laughing at the spectacle.
"Oh! Ivory! You're too cruel!" she said as she stood before the fireplace, her hooves dancing in frustration. "If you're gonna be that way about it you can keep the letter!"
She went back to her pillow in a huff. Cupcake laid down next to Carrot and leaned into him. He laid his head upon her, taking up some of her frustration. He tried to keep from giggling as the game began to come to an end.
"Hot."
"What?" asked Cupcake as she raised her head and looked to Ivory.
"Hot, Cuppy, you're hot… you're almost upon it," answered Ivory with a wide smile.
Cupcake looked to Carrot, a look of bewilderment hanging over her. She stood and pressed her nose to his, the act eliciting a few giggles from her nieces.
"Very hot," answered Ivory from the far side of the room, the other adults going quiet.
Cupcake nuzzled Carrot's foreleg. Before Ivory could even answer, she had moved to his hoof.
"On fire, Cuppy," answered Ivory, her voice going softer, "I'm so happy that you found it… so very happy, Cuppy."
Carrot lifted his hoof and removed the charger from his plate, revealing where Ivory had hidden the letter when they had spoken the passwords in the kitchen.
Cupcake looked down at the letter upon the silver plate, saw the exquisite envelope. She moved to lift it, but Carrot moved first.
Carefully and tenderly, he opened it, breaking the wax seal gingerly so that as much of it remained as possible. With that he lifted it with his teeth, motioned for her to take the envelope, much like they had once done upon a mattress in a bakery in the city beyond.
Cupcake stood with the envelope in her mouth, and soon what was transpiring began to register with her. At once Carrot had laid the letter before him. With that he asked for her hoof, raising his to meet hers. A string of causality wrapped around them, bound them to one another.
As she did, the other ponies in the room looked on in wonder. Carrot sat up and looked into the rose-colored eyes that he had first fallen into a year ago. Even now, they grew moist, her understanding of what he was doing growing in her. Even as they began to hide behind the cheeks that were rising in a broad smile… those eyes still called to him, as they would for decades if she would let him.
"To Miss Cupcake," began Carrot, "from Carrot Cake."
Carrot cleared his voice, lifted his hoof to hers that much more.
"A proposal for marriage…"
The envelope dropped out of Cupcake's mouth.
"… I have never been happier than during this last year, than during the time you have been in my life…"
He felt her short, sharp breaths begin. Felt her anticipation growing through the small connection that ran through their hooves.
"… You have added so much to my life, supported me, given me strength…"
Without breaking the connection between them, without taking her hoof out of his, she ran her face over her foreleg, wiped away the tears that were forming.
"…have given me reason to believe in myself because you believe in me…"
She stopped trying to hide the tears, just looked down to him as he read the letter. Cupcake's cheeks were hurting, her smile so strong that it consumed her. Even as she cried, she still set her eyes on him, this gangly colt… this stallion and his underbite, this wonderful stallion that had made her so happy.
"… I will work to make you happy, do all I can to show you how much I love you everyday, never stop trying to show you how much you mean to me…"
"Yes," she said, her voice just above a whisper.
Carrot jumped a little. He was not done yet, had not even reached the question.
"… in all things, our pain, or fear, our hope, you will be able to find shelter in me, and I will do everything I can to keep you safe and…"
"Yes," she said again, her voice louder and more certain.
He laughed a little. He had not even reached the question. Was she allowed to say that before he had even asked it?
He pressed on and looked up to her, looking into her beautiful eyes.
"… in all things you'll be my partner, my equal, and never will I doubt or demean you. I love you, Cupcake, and I ask you… please, will you…"
"Yes! Yes, Carrot!" she cried as she leapt into him, bowling him over and upon the pillows where they had been seated. Her lips were at once upon his. As the applause of a half-dozen hooves across the floor reached them, there is where they stayed.
Slowly, she lifted her head as her nieces giggled, and her nephew continued to voice the opinion of all little boys… namely that what was transpiring was gross and that he would not put up with it much longer.
As rose-colored eyes stared down at him, Carrot could not help but hope that the little colt would someday have ample reason to change his opinion.
"… marry me?" Carrot concluded while he laid his hoof beside her face.
"Yes," she whispered once more, touching her hoof to his. As the last happy tear fell from her face, she lowered herself again, laying her lips to his once more.
Despite the protests and giggles of the onlookers that was the way they stayed for a great long while… at least until the more romantically inclined population of the room demanded to congratulate the two lovers.