Rose and Sam
Chapter 11: Ginger Gold
Admiral Biscuit
When I heard the town clock chime, I went inside to make our lunch. It wasn’t my turn to cook, but I knew that if Daisy did it, Lily and I would get into an argument, and Lily would get mad if she was asked, since her flowers needed the most attention.
Despite all of the nice spring air and sunshine, it had been frosty in the garden. It was a pleasant change to be in the kitchen and reflect on the time I’d spent there with Sam instead.
Lily’s words were still echoing in my head. I knew she was wrong, but I didn’t know how to tell her. Didn’t know if I could tell her, or if she’d be stubborn and stay away from Sam and make signs to ward hexes any time she saw her. . . as if those worked. She used to try that around Daisy, too, every time Daisy used her magic for something. And then she just stopped and they mostly got along now. I think that Daisy wasn’t willing to be bullied, and didn’t care what Lily thought, that if she wasn’t going to deal with it she could move out. Or maybe Lily had just gotten used to it, and wasn’t going to lose a friend over something silly.
It wasn’t like we didn’t have unicorn friends. And Lily wasn’t rude to unicorns at market, she was even nice enough to Zecora on the few occasions she’d stopped by our booth.
I thought that once the town really started to come around on Sam’s side, Lily would too.
Where had Sam come from, and why? Why did she want to wear clothes even when she shouldn’t? I couldn’t figure it out, and ‘it was a human thing’ like she’d told me wasn’t much of an answer. I didn’t want to press her too hard, though, that wasn’t polite.
Maybe Berry knew—she might have told him. I turned the idea over in my head as I finished making our lunch. Maybe I could visit him. . . but going into the Everfree was too big a step, even though he must live someplace safe. Ginger would know where, wouldn’t she? Or I could wait until I saw him in town. If he wasn’t too busy I might have a chance to talk to him, to see if he would tell me anything about Sam.
Or I could ask Apple Cider what she knew. I didn’t think it would be much, though. She hadn’t worked with Sam, just seen her around working and heard some gossip, the same as everypony else.
Sam might open up to me in time. That wasn’t my motive in offering to go over and take care of her flowers . . . I hadn’t mentioned that to Lily, and she was going to be mad when she found out, even though it wasn’t any of her business what I did in my free time.
It wouldn’t be polite to change my mind and not go. I’d just have to think of an excuse to leave after dinner, maybe even before dinner. Or I could just tell her and deal with it before I went to Sam’s rather than after I’d come back.
Lily would think I was going off to my doom. I sighed. No matter what, it was going to be another unpleasant conversation and I wished I hadn’t thought of it before eating lunch.
•••
Lily was still frazzled when I called her in. None of us ever looked our best after working in the garden, but she was more unkempt than usual and still missing the flower over her ear.
Daisy looked annoyed as well; her ears were down until she smelled food, then they perked right back up. “Casserole?”
“And a salad. I had some leftovers from yesterday.” I wasn’t going to tell Lily that Sam had eaten some of this casserole, and I didn’t think she’d be able to smell Sam’s scent on it.
How would she react if I told her later?
I didn’t have to. She might have seen my expression or she might have guessed, but she narrowed her eyes and shook her head. “I’m not having a casserole a monster made.”
“I made it.”
“For a monster.” Lily pushed her plate away. “I’d rather starve.”
“Fine, if you’re going to be that stubborn.” I leaned down and took a bite of mine. “She didn’t touch the salad, I made that fresh just now. She likes oats and milk, though, so if you’re not willing to touch anything she wanted to eat, you’d better leave those alone.”
“We talked about this,” Daisy said. “And I thought you’d come to an understanding.”
“It’s my house, too, and I deserve to say my piece. You can’t just go and invite anycreature you want into our flowerbeds, into the kitchen and living room and bathroom, not without us agreeing on it. You know how I feel.”
My voice was quiet. “I thought you’d had time to see that Sam wasn’t a monster, that she deserves the same respect as anypony else who lives in town, but instead you’re acting like . . .” Like a filly afraid of a raincloud, I almost said. “She doesn’t have everypony in town under her spell, and if you’d take the time to talk to a sensible pony or two instead of getting your tail in a knot gossiping with skittish ponies.”
“You weren’t so worked up about Spike,” Daisy pointed out.
“He’s small, I could kick him into next week.” Lily stamped her hoof on the ground to illustrate her point. “Sam’s big and fast and knows how to swing an axe and can carry bags of flour and wants to hide her cutie mark because it’s a bad mark--”
“She doesn’t have a cutie mark,” both Daisy and I said simultaneously.
“I’m sure your conspiracy newspaper gleefully reported on that,” Daisy added.
“They’re looking for weeds in an empty pot. Only equines can get cutie marks anyway.” But I’d thought she was pony-like enough to have one.
“I don’t care.” Lily looked at her salad bowl and pushed it away, too. “I’m going back outside to tend my flowers, at least they don’t invite monsters in when they’re left alone.”
“And I’m going to weed Sam’s garden, it needs some attention.”
“I hope she gobbles you up.” Lily turned tail and slammed the door behind her as she left.
Daisy watched, wide-eyed, then turned back to me. “You aren’t really--”
“I am. I said I was going to, and I’m a mare of my word. Her garden looks like shit, it needs all the help it can get.”
Daisy pinned her ears and snarled at me. “The two of you both need to calm down, and think before you say something. Nopony benefits when you’re biting at each other’s throats. Next time the two of you are at our market stand together you’re gonna wilt all the flowers if you don’t make up.”
“Sam’s not a monster.”
“I don’t think she is, but you need to consider her views on it.” Daisy took a deep breath. “She was right that you shouldn’t have had Sam into the flowerbeds, even if it meant turning away the only help you were going to get.”
“For what it’s worth, I think you’re wrong. If you hadn’t just kept pushing her by using magic around her, she’d never have gotten used to you.” Daisy’s ears drooped, and I thought about my next words carefully. “It’s the same thing with Sam.”
“It is not. Lily always knew that I could do horn magic, I just tried not to do it around her until we were comfortable with each other, and in hindsight I think it was still too soon, but I was getting tired of having to do everything the . . . well, you know.”
I nodded. Sometimes I thought she was cheating by using magic, but on another hoof she didn’t have the endurance a proper earth pony did.
“Doesn’t matter, either way. We’d decided to live together, all three of us. But only you decided to invite Sam over, and you didn’t ask either of us how we felt about it.”
“How’s that different than the time that Strawberry Sunrise stopped by and Lily invited her in for tea?”
“We all know her and nopony’s afraid of her . . . you’re not afraid of her, are you?”
I shook my head. “She’s a little weird. Doesn’t like the taste of flowers.” I took another bite of my salad, and it tasted like dirt.
“I don’t think you should invite Sam over again until Lily’s ready,” Daisy advised. “Just to keep peace in the house.”
“Even though she’s quicker to learn than some apprentices we’ve had? Maybe if Lily watches Sam work, she’ll come around.”
“Or else you or Sam are going to have bruises on your barrels when she decides to fight. It’s easier to go at her pace rather than try and force her. She’s as stubborn as a mule when she gets an idea in her head . . . just like you.”
“So what do you suggest?”
Daisy shrugged. “Maybe the two of you should kick it out in the backyard.”
“Fighting doesn’t solve anything.”
“Doesn’t feel like that when somepony gets a good shot at your ribs. Are you really going to clean up Sam’s flowerbeds? You’re not just saying that?”
I nodded.
“And leave me trying to unwind Lily?”
“She might be happier if I’m not around tonight,” I said. “And she might be imagining how Sam’s eating me, that might make her happy.”
Daisy shook her head. “She’ll be worried, deep down. You know it. She only wants what she thinks is best.”
“Well, she’s not always right.”
“Of course not.” Daisy set down her mug and her magic faded. “Are you?”
•••
I hadn’t been kicked out, I’d left of my own accord, but it felt like I’d been kicked out as I walked through town. Sam wasn’t home--I hadn’t expected her to be--and I sniffed around her unhealthy, weed-choked flowerbeds before leaving.
My mind was half on Sam and half on what could be done with her flowers, if it was better to just tear everything up and start again, or try and nurse the ones that were left back into health? Or was I going to wind up wimping out and go back home with my tail between my legs? I didn’t really have a plan for where I was going, I was just wandering around town. It was easier to walk around than to think.
I didn’t think I was wrong, but Daisy wasn’t, either, and that hurt.
•••
I found myself by the Ginger’s woodlot. She was in the middle of the yard, splitting wood, and Berry Black was nowhere to be seen.
I hadn’t wanted to interrupt her, but she saw me and came over to the fence. “You need more cordwood already?”
“Just wandering,” I said. “We’ve got lots of wood.” Then, since I was there and she was at the fence already, “Were you worried about Sam helping you chop wood?”
Ginger shrugged. “Berry said she knew how, said she was a hard worker.”
“And you trusted him?”
“Yeah.”
“Even though he’s a donkey?”
I saw a frown cross her face, and she shifted her hind legs. “What business is it of yours, anyway?”
“I hired her to help in the garden yesterday.”
“And did she do what she said she was going to?”
I nodded.
“Were you worried about Sam helping you with your flowers?”
“I didn’t think she’d know how, but she’s a quick learner, and everypony says she’s a hard worker.”
Ginger relaxed and let out a snort, almost a laugh. “If Berry had come up to me one day and just said he’d found a creature in the woods and thought it could chop wood, I wouldn’t have given him the time of day. He was bringing in more wood, just when I needed it the most, too, so I knew he had somebody helping him. I thought maybe it was a cousin or something, lotta donkeys just wander around and take odd jobs, then I remembered hearing about the so-called monster in the Everfree and asked him if that was who was helping. He didn’t say, so I knew it was.
“It was a little scary to see her up close the first time, but I thought she deserved a chance. Maybe if more ponies saw her working, more ponies would want to hire her.” She sighed. “Even if it means I’m not going to get a surplus of wood next winter.”
“I think it’s going to take a while for her to fit in,” I said, “based on how some ponies are reacting.”