Armed with a whisk, Lime Tart stood atop the table and peered into a humongous mixing bowl filled with heavy cream. All she had to do was make whipped cream. Which was easier said than done. But her mother was counting on her, and so was Stargazer and his family. This was more than just making whipped cream; it was a magic lesson. While it had nothing to do with friendship, or maybe it did and she just couldn’t see it, it was still a practical life lesson. The bowl was so big that she had trouble peering over the edge of it, even as she stood upon the preparation table beside it.
Cautiously, she poked the heavy cream with her whisk.
So far, so good.
Smooth circular motion, her mother said, and so she did just that. A bit of a slow start, but a promising one. Such was her concentration that her tongue poked out of the corner of her mouth (as it tended to do unbidden) and she squinted in a ridiculous manner that she was utterly unaware of. Outside, the sun was still making its best effort to rise and bring light to Rainbow Falls. The windows were still dark for the most part, and the kitchen was lit with the harsh overhead light.
“Spank it, Bubelah, spank it like a bad, bad baby—”
“Mama, no! You don’t spank babies. They’re babies!”
Her mother laughed and dumped a load of chopped chocolate into a double boiler.
Lime Tart had only been spanked once, that she could recall. Just once, with a wooden spoon, and her mother popped her a smart one right across her backside. It could have been a whole lot harder, but wasn’t, though it still stung a bit. A word had been said, a particularly vile and unpleasant word, a word that would never be repeated. As awful as the single spank was, her mother’s upset state was somehow worse. The lesson was learned and she hadn’t been spanked since, though she was intimately familiar with the corner in the living room where she was forced to stand for an hour if she brought home a bad note from school.
As unfair as it felt at the time, little Lime Tart had since learned her lesson. Standing in the corner was entirely avoidable. All she had to do was behave and the corner could be avoided. Behaving was getting easier, too. She’d dumped her old friends and spent more time with Stargazer, who might very well be the most behaved foal in all of Rainbow Falls. He was quiet, thoughtful, considerate, polite, was always quick to say please or thank you, and he never went around looking to cause trouble.
The whisk began to move on its own accord as her thoughts distracted her.
Her mother practically bounced around the kitchen and did everything all at once. A piping hot pan of poofy pastries were pulled out of the oven. One by one, she peeled them from their sheet pan and placed them on a shiny metal rack. If they were left to cool on the sheet pan, moisture would condense around their bottoms and they would become soggy. Nopony wanted to eat a soggy bottomed pastry. Lime Tart knew this baking trick because her mother had explained it to her. While the poofy pastries were dealt with, a dirty pan was put into the sink, and the chocolate in the double boiler was stirred with a spatula. A timer dinged and as another pan was pulled out of the oven, a different pan loaded down with unbaked crackers was put in. No matter how much her mother made, there were never enough crackers by the end of the day. For as long as Lime Tart could remember, which felt like a very long time, they were always sold out of crackers by mid-afternoon.
“Mom, how did you become a baker?” she asked. “Dad said you were a model and that Grandpops beat the stuffing out of some ponies.”
“Oh, Bubelah, Grandpops didn’t beat the stuffing out of ponies, he hospitalised them. He’s got a wickedly bad temper.” Her mother shudder-shivered, then continued, “I got into modeling so I could get my hoof in the door as an actor. Granana and Grandpops are both actors, but you know that. Not big actors, but they’ve played important bit parts over the years. I had all the right stuff… I even had parents in the biz. But it is your father’s fault that I’m a baker.”
“Really?” When Lime Tart turned to look at her mother, the whisk maintained its steady circular motion.
“He was sad… and he was beat up in school. Some greasy hoodlums cornered him in the bathroom.” The tone of her mother’s voice changed dramatically, and her magic became considerably more forceful. “I got it into my head that I would bake him a cake, so I did. A chocolate and sour cream cake. Nothing too fancy. Nothing like what I can make now. It turned out a little lopsided, and the frosting wasn’t my best work, but I did it on my own. Just me. And that’s how I got my spoon, whisk, and spatula, Bubelah.”
Then, her mother smiled and added, “That’s also how I got your father.”
“So Granana and Grandpops are actors, you’re a baker, and I’m going to do whatever it is that I’m going to do with my constellation of Equuleus. It’s weird how life turns out.”
“Don’t tell her I said this, but your Granana isn’t even that good of an actress. Her cutie mark is a chameleon, and that’s what she does. She can change her colours on a whim. That’s incredibly useful on both stage and in film. My mother made a career of it somehow. Call it luck, maybe. For me, it was an indicator of her mood. If all was well, she was green… just like you’re green. If my father kissed her, she’d turn pink all over. When she was mad, she’d turn red and orange. Once, when she got tipsy on Hearth’s Warming, she turned an obnoxious shade of plaid—”
“Really?”
“Yeah, really… Bubelah. She turned plaid, just like the tacky curtains. And your Grandpops, with him being a Shetlander, let me tell you, jokes were made after that party.” Blonde Roux’s eyes rolled and she chuckled as she went about her work.
“I’ve never seen one of Grandpops’ movies—”
“Nor will you,” her mother said. “Not until you’re older. He always plays the same role… big hairy brute. He’s been a mobster, a cop, a father rescuing his foalnapped daughter, and a vengeful killer out for revenge after his wife’s murder. It doesn’t matter which movie he’s in, he always plays the same part. It’s the accent, I think. All these years in Equestria and he still doesn’t talk like us, nor does he want to. All he wants to do is drink his whiskey and smoke his stogies and oy vey, what a stink those stogies leave in the furniture and draperies and curtains. Grandpops is a big smelly mashugana. Ugh!”
It was true: her grandfather smelled; so much so it was difficult to give him kisses.
“He does all of his own stunts. That’s his claim to fame. That is how he’ll be remembered.” As she turned about to face the sink, Blonde Roux’s voice softened. “I’ll always remember him for different reasons. He was my father. I saw a side of him that the public did not. I wish they could’ve seen him as I saw him, but that would’ve probably destroyed his career.”
“Do you miss Applewood?” she asked her mother.
“Yes,” her mother said right away. “And no. It was glitzy, and glamorous, and also dirty and smelly. Crime was getting bad. Lots of homeless ponies, all of them thinking that they could get into the biz if somepony would just give them a chance. The schools are all overcrowded with snobby little snots. I know, because I went to those schools, and I was something of a snobby little snot.” She tossed a dirty pan into the sink, then turned to face her daughter and said, “That’s why we left. I didn’t want you to grow up like that. And then you started to do what you did and it felt like I left home for nothing. Nada. Bupkis. I am so glad that you’ve straightened yourself out, Bubelah.”
The whisk was getting hard to move now. Lime Tart had become distracted by her mother’s stories, and so she peered into the massive metal mixing bowl. Some magic had taken place, because the heavy cream was gone now, mostly. In its place was whipped cream, and lots of it. A great frothy mess of it and it turned thicker with every stroke of her whisk.
“Good work, Bubelah. Pace yourself, we’re just getting started.”
Outside, snow fell. Huge fluffy flakes, the light and airy kind that were powdery on the ground. It would be difficult to walk to the cemetery later, but it had to be done. It was necessary; the grave had to be cleaned off and Stargazer had to deal with his grief somehow. The skies were grey and the sun was totally obscured by heavy, dull grey clouds. While it was dark and gloomy outside, Lime Tart did not feel dark and gloomy. In fact, she felt better than she had in a long time. For her, the clouds had parted and she could see the bright of day.
Talking with her mother and father had done much to brighten her mood.
“You’re a mess, Tarty,” her father said as he put down a steaming cup of cocoa.
There was a lull in customers at the moment, which was good, because her father needed a break after the morning rush. So did her mother, but there was no break to be had, because the holiday crunch was upon them. She watched as her father sat down in the wooden chair on the other side of the table. He sighed, stretched his wings, and then turned his head from side to side to pop his neck, a sound that made Lime Tart shudder.
“Mom and I, we talked about your dolls, Dad.” She saw his eyebrow rise. “Mom told me about the drug store and how you met. How you got picked on.” Overcome with guilt for what she’d done to Stargazer, she cast her gaze into the cup of cocoa that her father had brought her. “I think I understand a bit more why you don’t want me to play with them.”
“Tarty, you smash your own dolls together to make them kiss. That gives me nightmares.”
“I understand.”
She heard her father inhale, and then with her gaze still sunk into her cocoa, she heard him say, “When you get older, and you show that you can be careful, I’ll let you help me with them. They have to be dusted, and maintained, and kept looking nice. Maybe when you show me that you can be responsible, we can do that together. I’d like that.”
Hopeful, she looked up at her father, and beamed. She couldn’t help herself, she felt good about this. Fantastic even. With a little work, she could show that she was responsible, but she wasn’t sure how. Then, her smile faltered a bit as she thought about her broken dolls, her busted toys, and how careless she was. Stargazer was a careful sort. He could make telescope adjustments that she had trouble with, and he wasn’t even a unicorn. She thought of how he held his sister, and how gentle he was, which made her feel warm fuzzies all over.
Her father, Pigeon Pie, and Stargazer had something in common.
“When you were born, I was beside myself,” he said to her. “The doctor said that you’d be a colt, but the doctor was wrong, and I was giddy. I had a daughter that I could share my dolls with. You were the best thing that happened to me… well, you and your mother. Tarty, you are my favourite doll, the best doll that I have.”
Hearing her father’s words, Lime Tart’s cheeks grew warm, but not in the way they did when she got angry. She looked up at him; he towered over the tiny table meant for foals and he didn’t exactly fit into the chair very well, but he’d sat down with her to talk. He talked with her and she had a sudden understanding of just how precious this was. Stargazer’s father was gone, and she thought about what the colt had said about how his father wasn’t there to talk to him about fillies, and how he got scared.
The clever filly that she was, Lime Tart was struck with quite an idea.
“Dad, can I talk to you about colts?”
Her father seemed surprised, and perhaps a bit panicked.
“Colds?” he said. “Always cover your mouth when you cough or sneeze.”
“Daddy, no. Colts.”
“Uh… Tarty—”
“Stargazer’s father is gone, and Stargazer can’t talk to his dad about fillies, and everything is all confusing for him, and he gets scared because he doesn’t know what to do with me sometimes.”
“Huh…” All of the breath slowly drained out of her father’s body in a prolonged groan.
“But I still have you, and for that I’m grateful, and I thought maybe we could talk.”
He inhaled—quite deeply this time—and then groaned again.
“We could talk about colts while we play with dolls.”
Saying nothing, Pigeon reached up and scratched his chin with his left front hoof.
“Dad, you’re acting funny.”
“No, I’m not.” His feathers rustled as his wings shifted against his sides. “I’m acting perfectly normal for a panicking pegasus.”
“You’re not running around and clucking—”
“Tarty… that’s awful. Hilarious, but awful. You have your mother’s humour. Never use it for evil.”
“I’ll try.”
“I’m still amazed by you,” he said to her. “Every day you grow up a little bit more. It’s all happening so fast. You started talking and then you showed signs of intelligence. You were more than a fuzzy green potato that was the notorious diaper-dumper. Then you started asking questions about everything under the sun.” He paused to consider his own words. “And given recent developments, now you want to know everything there is under the moon as well.”
Reaching out, she wrapped both of her fetlocks around her cup of cocoa, because she didn’t know what else to do with them. The cup was warm, but not too hot against her skin. Diaper-dumper? There was probably a story that went along with that, but she didn’t dare ask. This was new, though she didn’t know exactly what this was. Something had changed this morning with her parents, and she found herself enjoying it.
“How come I don’t have a grandma and grandpa on your side?” she asked. It was a question that she’d asked before, but it was always artfully dodged. Since her mother and father were being so open, maybe today things would be different.
“How about we talk about colts instead?” he replied.
She did nothing to hide her disappointment.
“Look… Tarty, it’s hard for me.”
“Did they die?” she asked with all of the bluntness a filly her age could muster.
“I… well, I don’t know. At least with my mother. Tarty, she never came home from work one day.” Pigeon Pie rested both of his forelegs across his barrel and shifted in his seat. “The cops say that she might have been taken by diamond dogs. That happens, you know.” Nervous, he licked his lips. “My father, he didn’t believe that, and he didn’t believe that she’d left him. He blamed me. Said it was the shame of having a sissy son.”
“I’m sorry.” She was sorry. In light of this new detail, she now understood how and why her behaviour, her bullying hurt her father so much. The pain on his face was almost too much for her to bear.
“About a week after the cops told us they had no leads, my father left. I didn’t know it though. It was just a mostly normal day and I came home from school and my father, he never came home from work. It was my mother disappearing and not coming home all over again. Later that night, I went out… it was dark out… and went to your mother’s house for help.”
Rather than blurt out how she felt, Lime Tart listened; it felt like the grownup thing to do.
“It took a few weeks, but I found out that my father had just skipped town. He was gone. Went off to live with his brother in Fillydelphia. I suppose that losing Mom hurt him in some way and he never recovered. Of course, he and I never got along. He liked to smash my dolls and break them. Mom and him would fight about it. There was always a lot of shouting. Always so much fighting.” He sighed. “I don’t think my mother left me. She would’ve taken me with her. So, something happened. I don’t know what.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt you with how I was,” she said to her father, and she meant it. Her heart was heavy in the worst way and she felt truly rotten on the inside.
“You didn’t know.” She watched as her father shrugged and saw the hurt in his eyes. “You had no way of knowing. Tarty, you’re a foal. A little one at that. Foals do dumb stuff. They’re not all that aware of the world around them and just sort of do things. I made it a point not to hold anything against you. Though, some of what you did really did make me start to worry.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know you are, Tarty. And I know you mean it.”
So, her grandfather—not Grandpops—was a bully too. It was awful to think about, but she wondered if maybe, just maybe, she got it from him. Did this sort of thing get passed along in families? All of her quirks came from somewhere, she supposed. Like her ferocious temper, which had come from out of nowhere. That shocked her more than just a little bit. What made a pony a pony? Were they stuck being what they were, or could they change? She decided that change was possible, because she had changed. Well, she was still changing, and while it was a lot of hard work, it seemed worth it so far. She thought about what Princess Twilight Sparkle had said, and then was curious about the great mystery of life.
Hurting others was wrong and her careless actions had hurt so many. Not just Stargazer, but her mother and father. Who else? She thought of ripples in a pond and for the first time in her young life, she was aware of something so much larger than herself that she could not comprehend it at all. Everything was connected in ways that she could not understand. It made her want to cry, but she was determined to be a big girl about this. The best thing that she could do was to try and do no harm—which seemed impossibly difficult, but she had to try.
The importance of doing good was making an effort to not hurt others, and she understood that now, even if she could not fully comprehend the enormity of it all. More so than ever, she resolved to do good, because the guilt, the knowing that she’d hurt the ones she loved was too much to bear. Teasing. Tormenting. Picking on Stargazer and others. Even worse, she hadn’t really wanted to do it, but she did it to have friends—to fit in. There was so much pressure, so much stress to make friends and to have friends that she made poor friends.
While she could do nothing about the past, she could make the future better.
“Uh-oh,” her father said quite suddenly whilst he looked out the iced-over window. “Oh that’s not good. Here comes Mrs. Crumpledumpling and she looks angry. And there’s Upside-Down Cake. Goodness, what happened to her face? That’s quite a shiner! I hope her mother didn’t do that…”
Something icy gripped Lime Tart’s innards, and she could not help but panic.
The portly pegasus mare almost tore the door from its hinges as she entered, while a gust of wind and snowflakes swirled around her. With her wing, she shoved her daughter inside—not gently—and then stood there fuming with quiet fury. Lime Tart was terrified and she could not believe what she saw. Upside-Down Cake’s whole face was lumpy, and she had a black eye which was swollen shut. Just looking at the poor pegasus filly caused alarming tingles in her dock, and Lime Tart wasn’t sure if she could endure the sight of it for much longer.
The cocoa on the table, now forgotten, grew cool.
“Where’s Blondie?” Mrs. Crumpledumpling demanded before Pigeon Pie could say anything. “Where is your wife? I need to have a word with her! I need to get down to the bottom of this!” With one wing extended, she pointed with her primaries at her daughter. “And I need to understand your daughter’s involvement in this!”
“Lime Tart did that? What—”
“No, Mr. Pie, I don’t think your daughter did this, but I hope she knows the truth! My daughter won’t tell me what happened, and that disgusting little Treacle is a liar! I don’t know what happened and I’m trying to make sense of it.”
“S-s-should we c-c-call t-the c-con-con-c-constable?”
For the first time ever, Lime Tart heard her father stutter, and was stunned.
“Oh, I plan to do just that, but only when I know for sure what happened! I have a good guess as to what’s happened, but I need to talk to Lime Tart about it. And like I said, I don’t think she did this. I don’t think she did this at all. But I think she might know what happened.”
“G-g-goodness. I’ll g-g-go g-g-get-get my wife.”