CARROT CAKE
“Chiffon Swirl! Wait!”
I should’ve been able to follow her through the crowd, but she somehow slipped through. My eyes darted from one pony to the next, hoping to catch a glimpse of her mane or coat, but all I caught were glares. Apparently everypony had either seen or heard what just went down.
I messed up. Really, really messed up. She’s never going to forgive me. I’m not sure I can forgive myself. I didn’t care one lick for this competition—not in the way she did—and I ruined it for her. If only I could go back to ten minutes ago. I’d bite into a piece of taffy and never let it go.
I need to apologize. If I can get her to listen, that is.
I can still feel the small box of chocolates I put in my apron. It feels useless now. I had such great plans for those chocolates.
I knew this was a bad idea. I should never had done this in the first place.
She’s never going to forgive me.
I have to try though. That look she gave me before she ran…
I try Sweet P’s first, but the door ended up being locked. I peeked through the window and my stomach slipped to my knees. The whole place had been redecorated in blue and pinks. A huge banner saying “Congratulations Chiffon Swirl!” stretched across the entire back wall.
She’s definitely not here. No way she’d stick around even is she was.
There’s no answer at her house, either. I guess I wouldn’t answer the door, knowing it's as me on the other side. Her parents were probably at the competition, anyway. I bet they saw the whole thing and hate me now.
Oh, ponies, this is really bad.
I bet by the end of the day everypony will have heard.
Where else can she be? It probably doesn’t matter. I mean, what do I say if I do find her? “I broke the rules because I can’t seem to go a day without thinking of you?” I’d rather never bake anything ever again than say that to her.
Maybe she never left the competition? She might still be watching the judging. It’s a long shot, but at this point it’s all I got.
I start winding my way back to the center of town when I see Bright Mac carrying a sheet pan of cake—cake with no frosting, only powered sugar on top.
“Hey!” I call out. I know he heard me because he looked right at me. He doesn’t stop, though. “Bright Mac! You’ve seen Chiffon Swirl?” He doesn’t say anything or slow down. He sorta has this grimace on his face. “You…uh…see what happened earlier?”
“Yeup.”
Drat. “I just want to tell her I’m sorry. Have you seen her?”
“Not sure she’s in a talkin’ mood just now.”
“So you know where she’s at?”
He doesn’t say anything, but his grimace deepens.
“Bright Mac, wait, please.” He stops at last and takes a hard look at me. He’s tall, like I am. Except, unlike me, he’s full of muscle. I look like a real pile of sticks next to him.
I swallow. I’ve never seen Bright Mac kick anypony, but right now he looks like he would buck me if he got the chance. “It wasn’t supposed to turn out this way. I’ve got to tell her how sorry I am. If you know—”
“What I can’t figure, is why you did it. She worked really hard on that cake.”
“I know. And she has every right to be mad. I really messed up. I was just…” What can I say? The truth? I don’t know him very well. He seems real nice—a real stand up stallion—but we don’t hang out. I’ve got to tell him something. He knows where she is, and I don’t. All I have on me is the truth…and a small box of chocolates.
“Look, have you ever tried to…impress a really pretty mare? You had it all worked out in your head how it would go, but when you did it, it didn’t impress her at all and got her in trouble?” I look down at my hooves in the dirt. “It’s like that.”
Bright Mac doesn’t say anything for a bit, and I’m too chicken to look up from my hooves. At last he says, “Yeah, I reckon I do.”
I look back up. At least he doesn’t look like he wants to buck me anymore. “I want to make it up to her. I will make it up to her. Even if that means bring her flowers every day for ten years, or making her chocolates every week, or signing her up for a thousand baking competitions, or…” I swallow. “…never talking to her again, if that’s what she wants. I’ll do it, I swear I will.” I hope it doesn’t come to that. I hope she’ll talk to me again.
“I get it. Don’t have to convince me. I had no idea you…well, I’m guessing she doesn’t either?”
I shake my head.
“Look,” Bright Mac leans forward, “ya didn’t hear this from me, but I saw her with Pear Butter right after…it all went down. I reckon she’s at the Pear farm.”
Of course! Pear Butter, her best friend. It’s so obvious now. Why didn’t I think of that? “Thanks! I owe you one.”
“Just make it up to her. And I maybe wouldn’t mind havin’ the recipe to your carrot cake?”
“Anything.” I gotta go before I really do chicken out. “I’ll bring it by later. Thanks, Bright Mac.”
Thank Celestia for my long legs. The Pear farm isn’t that far, but it is still a good ways off. I decide to go full gallop.
The sun is a full, yellow disk in the sky so by the time I see the Pear’s farmhouse, sweat is dripping down my face and I’m almost out of breath. I wipe at the sweat, but all it does is makes my leg wet. If only I had some cool water to splash over me.
I knock on the front door and Pear Butter’s father answers. “Hi, sir. I’m looking for Chiffon Swirl. I heard she might be here.”
“Heard from who?”
I don’t dare say Bright Mac. Everypony in Ponyville knows there’s some sort of feud going on between the Pear and Apple families. I want him to let me in, not kick me out. He’s already is looking at me like he might have swallowed some sour candies. I wonder if he knows all about the competition. “I just heard, is all. Is she here?”
“She likes to use our kitchen, but she’s not there at the moment. I thought she was at the competition today.”
“She left early. I heard she might be with Pear Butter. Do you know where I could find your daughter?”
“If she’s not in town, then doing chores, I suspect.”
“Thank you, sir. Could I take a look around? She might know where Chiffon Swirl is and I need to speak to her. It’s really important that I do.”
“Suit yourself.” He then closes the door on me. I’m starting to see why the Apple family doesn’t like him.
I walk around the back and start towards the barn. I don’t make it too far, though, because I see a pile of sorbet swirled mane out of the corner of me eye.
Chiffon Swirl. She’s sitting with Pear Butter on a long, white wooden swing hanging from a tree branch. Her face is buried in her hooves and Pear Butter has her leg around her in a tight hug.
They haven’t seen me yet. All I can do is just stare as my insides squirm together. How am I going to do this? What am I going to say?
As quietly as I can, I trot towards them. Pear Butter sees me first. “Sticks.” She gets off the swing and stands herself in front of Chiffon Swirl, like some sort of bodyguard.
“I just want to apologize. Please.”
“Not sure that’s such a good idea.”
“Please, I—”
“It’s okay, Pear Butter,” Chiffon Swirl says. “Give us a minute or two, will you?”
Pear Butter doesn’t stop glaring at me. “Fine,” she says after a moment, “I’ll be over yonder. You holler when you want him gone.” She throws me one more glare before disappearing around the hedge.
I take a minute to look at her. There really doesn’t seem like there’s anything I can say.
“Well?” She says and it’s enough to snap me back.
I take a deep breath and pull out the little wrapped box from my apron pocket. It’s the saddest thing I’ve ever seen. The wrapping paper, which had been smooth and shiny this morning, is all crumbled and wrinkled. The bow on top is completely squashed flat and has started to fray. I guess a whole day sitting in my pocket as I ran around Ponyville hasn’t done it any favors. “This doesn’t make up for what happened, but I am really and truly sorry.” I place the box on the swing next to her. She doesn’t move, but just stares at it.
“I hope—“ I continue, but all the words in my head get stuck in my throat. “I mean—I just—” Her eyes flick to look at me and all words leave me. Instead, I can feel heat rising up my entire body.
“Why’d you do it?” she says.
“Um…”
“I can’t seem to wrap my head around it. Why’d you help me knowing it could get me disqualified? I just want to understand.”
“I…” My knees are shaking. I swallow. I have to tell her something. “I didn’t enter the contest because I wanted to win.”
“Don’t be dumb.”
“I’m not. It’s the truth.” It’s all I have left.
“Why would you enter the contest if you didn’t hope to win?”
I’ve got to tell her. There’s no way out of this now. “I signed up because…”
“Because?”
“Because…you signed up.”
She doesn’t understand. She’s looking at me like she’s not sure if she should hit me or start crying again. I have to tell her. I take a big breath.
“I think you’re something really special.” I take another breath. “You’re talented, and nice, and…” Dear Celistia, how can I say this?
“And?” She doesn’t look like she wants to hit me anymore. I have to go on.
“…and you’re beautiful. I thought if I signed up, you might…notice me.”
She says nothing, just stares at me.
This is the moment I’m going to die, I just know it. My insides are already feeling like their falling into one another. My legs are itching to run.
I should run. I should run all the way to Prance and never show my face again. She’s just staring at me. She’s trying to find the right words to put me down, I just know it. I screwed up too much and now there’s no chance she feels the same. I might as well be buried where I stand because this is the place I’m going to die from a broken heart.
“Oh,” she says at last. Then a moment later, a realization comes to her eyes. “OH!”
Well, at least she knows. I gently push the gift towards her. “These are for you. I made them for you. I was going to give them to you after the contest.” A “congratulations” tag can be seen sticking up. She turns her wide eyes to look at it.
She uses her teeth to pull at the bow and pushes the wrapping aside. She takes off the lid and just continues to stare at it. Her brows wrinkle together, like she’s a bit confused. “You…made these?” Her voice is flat. She’s not impressed—at all.
“Yeah,” I moved a bit closer to glance at the hoofmade chocolates made especially for her and I—“Dear Celestia! No!”
I thought I was going to die from embarrassment a minute ago, but now I know I will. I’m nearly choking on the words because they won’t come fast enough. “That’s not supposed—I didn’t make—” I grab the box back from her. I didn’t think her eyes could get any bigger. I can’t tell if she’s about to yell or puke. “Pears!” I yell before she can do anything. “They’re suppose to be pears! Not a pair of—” I squeeze my own eyes shut. Of all things to go wrong. “The heat of the day, plus running around…I drew pears on top of each chocolate because your signature dessert is Candy Pear Cinnamon Swirl. The chocolate must’ve melted. They’re pears! I swear! They’re pears!”
Her eyes are so wide. Her hooves have gone to her mouth. It sounds like she’s choking. I’m dead. I’m never going to—
“HAHAHAHAHA!”
I look at her. She’s not choking. She’s laughing!
“A PAIR OF—” Tears are actually running down her face. I guess it is sort of funny. I mean, you can see how they started out as pears, but got all squished and melted. At least she doesn’t think I’m some sort of jerky stallion sending her pervert chocolates.
Despite it all, I start to laugh right along with her.
At last she finishes. Her front legs are wrapped around her stomach and she’s taking in long breaths.
“I’m sorry,” I start to say, but she holds up a hoof.
“Don’t.” She looks like she’s about to have another fit of laughter, but instead she just giggles then shakes her head. “Can I…try one?”
“S-sure.” I pass the box back to her. She licks one up.
“Is this…caramel in the middle? With oats?”
“I wasn’t sure what you’d like. I used your salted caramel recipe, then added the oats.”
“They’re delicious!”
“Thanks.” I’m actually starting to smile and feeling has returned to my legs.
“How did you make them? I didn’t think anypony in Ponyville knew how to make chocolate candies.”
“It’s an old family recipe. You can come over sometime. If you like, that is. I still have the candy molds.” I still have the candy molds? What an idiotic thing to say.
“I’d…really love that.”
My whole body goes warm—in a good way. The best possible way. “I actually have a whole book of old family recipes. A lot of them are really fancy and…maybe this could make up for this morning? Even just a little bit?”
She goes a bit pink in her cheeks. “Sure. I guess so.”
It’s like my heart has finally started beating again. “Are you free tomorrow? Maybe after lunch you could swing by for a…demonstration? If you want to, that is.”
Her cheeks suddenly go darker. “Sounds like a date.”
Maybe she didn’t mean a date-date.
Then again, maybe she did.
My legs are a bit jelly-ish again, but I wouldn’t change that.
“See you tomorrow then. Enjoy the chocolates.”
She starts giggling again. “Sure, see you tomorrow.”
There’s so much to do to get ready for tomorrow. Top of the list is to hide Ma’s collection of embarrassing foal pictures.
“Carrot Cake,” Chiffon Swirl’s voice pulls me back. Is it normal to love the way someone says your real name? Is it normal to hope she does it again soon?
“Yeah?”
“Just so you know…I’ve always noticed you.”