Ditzy Doo Talks to Mrs. Cake About Love, Life, and Sex

by Exilo


Motherly Advice

“Good afternoon Ditzy, what can I get you?”

Ditzy is wearing a cute blush on her snout and her eyes shift side to side, never quite looking at me. She sits down at the counter and rests her head in her hoof.

“We have a new cupcake this week, in honor of Rainbow Dash bringing home the gold,” I continue. “We’re calling it the Rainbow Splash. It’s actually seven different flavored slices of cupcake, held together with vanilla frosting. It goes lemon, orange, cherry, green apple, blue raspberry, blueberry, and grape. You want to try it.”

“U-uhm… sure,” Ditzy practically whispers. Reaching under the counter, I pull out a freshly baked cupcake. Ditzy always comes in around this time, after all. Even the days she isn’t working, she stops by for lunch and to chat, so I know to be prepared. Picking the cupcake up, she brings it to her lip and takes a bite. Unfortunately, she started at the lemon slice. Her lips pucker cutely. I’m quick to pour her a mug of hot chocolate, which she abruptly gulps down.

“Hey, Ms. Cake,” she asks, finally looking up at me. “Can I ask you something?”

I smile and lean on the counter. “Anything Ditzy.”

“Uhm… how are the babies?”

“Oh, thank the sun, they are doing wonderful. Pound is certainly a hoofful though. I’m dreading the day his wings are fully developed. That pegasi spirit is going to be hard control.”

“I wouldn’t know much about that, I’m afraid.”

I bite my lip. “I didn’t mean anything like that, Ditzy. I just meant-”

“It’s alright,” she interrupts. “I’m not very typical for a pegasus. I don’t have a pegasus spirit. But that’s alright, right?”

I reach a hoof out and gently touch Ditzy. “Yes, it is. How is Dinky doing?”

“Good, good! I am hoping I will be able to take her back soon. Carrot Top has been so sweet, taking care of her while I have been… uhm… well, you know… But I am getting things back together and everything in order. And I think soon, very soon, she’s going to be able to live with me again.”

Nodding my head, I give her hoof a little squeeze. “I know dearie. Please remember, you can always come here too. I’d be happy to look after Dinky for a few days if you ever need a break.”

Ditzy takes another bite of her cupcake. Onto the sweetness of the orange, and she shudders happily as the flavor washes over her tongue. “I’m worried about Diamond Tiara. Silver Spoon hasn’t written to her in almost two weeks. Every day, Tiara is there at the door, and she tears through the bundle of mail her father gets, and then when there’s nothing for her, she looks like she’s gonna cry. She probably does, cause she always slams the door after she has the mail and I hear her hooves pound the floor, but then I don’t hear anything, so I guess she runs to the bathroom or something.”

“I’ll bake her a special cupcake. That will cheer her up, I’m sure.”

“You and Mr. Cake,” Ditzy says, words sprinkled with bits of orange that come flying out of her mouth. “You both are such good ponies. You’re both so good to everypony and so good to me, all the time.” Maybe realizing she’s spitting globs of food, she takes a sip of hot chocolate to wash her mouth clean. “You love Mr. Cake, right?”

I chuckle softly. “Yes dearie, I love Carrot with all my heart.”

“So… uhm… I’m just wondering, and if you don’t wanna say, that’s totally fine, b-but I was just wondering, when did you know that you loved him? When did you decide he was the one and that you wanted to be with him forever, and you wanted to… uhm… when did you know you wanted to make little baby Cakes with him?”

Wide-eyed, I stare at her. It takes a moment or two before I finally figure out what she means, and warmth washes over my face. Ditzy buries her face deep her hooves. I step around the counter and trot to the door. Turning the OPEN sign to CLOSED, I lock the door before taking the stool besides Ditzy. “OK dearie. What’s going on?”

Ditzy sips her hot chocolate and nibbles her cupcake. She must not be happy with the order of flavors, because she breaks the cupcake apart and places the separate pieces on the plate. Selecting the blueberry piece (I’m pretty sure that’s her favorite flavor,) she pops it into her mouth. The sweet, succulent taste eases her nerves and she even lets out a cute, bubbly giggle. “I’m gonna be seeing Turner tomorrow. We’re gonna be going on a date. It’ll be our third, you know? And Rainbow Dash kinda found out. And she said how Turner is gonna be expecting certain things, since this is the third date and all. And I’m just kinda thinking about those sort of things.”

“Ditzy, you don’t ever have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“I know, I know! The thing is, I kinda want to. I mean, if he wants to. Cause I think I love Turner. How can I know for sure, though? Cause I thought I loved Hallmark and then he… I don’t even think of that time as actually doing it. I don’t remember anything about it. We went to the party, then the next day I woke up and nine months later… uhm…”

My hoof rubs neat circles in Ditzy’s back. A few tears run down her cheek, but she wipes them away and shakes her head. “So, this will kinda be the first time that I really do it, but I’m not sure if I should, cause I only think I love Turner. And I really don’t want it to end up like it did with Hallmark. So, if you can say, when did you know that you loved Mr. Cake?”

I sigh, and rub a few more neat circles in Ditzy’s back. Pegasi like that sort of thing. I think it has to do with their wings. There is a sweet spot right between where the bones protrude out of the back, and if you rub it, you can make a pegasus coo like a pigeon. I do it for Pound if he has a nightmare, and it always quiets him down and helps him go back to sleep.

“I was never really pretty,” I say. “Boys ignored me and girls made fun of me. I didn’t really mind. I got used to it, sitting alone at lunch, never going to the prom or any dances. I was fine with it, even. Or I thought I was, until the day the most handsome stallion in high school asked if I wanted to go with him to the Heart and Hooves Day Dance.”

“Mr. Cake?” Ditzy asks, eyes wide.

I giggle and blush. “Carrot wasn’t really handsome back then. He was kind of lank and goofy, actually. The stallion who asked me was pegasus named Warren Piece. Oh, he was gorgeous. A real hunk. He had a deep chest and long, powerful legs and wings that were wider than Celestia’s and…”

Stay on topic, old girl.

“He treated me nice. He talked to me. He introduced me to all the popular kids. Like I said, he invited me to the Heart and Hooves Day Dance. I was absolutely, positively, Celestia as my witness sure that I loved him and I always would. Then I found out that the whole thing was just some joke, something he did on a dare from one of his friends.” I smile at Ditzy. She’s looking heartbroken, so I gently rub her back.

“Carrot was there to pick up the pieces, though. He walked me home, baked me a muffin, sat with me all night. Looking back, I think he was interested in me for a while before that, but I just never noticed. After what Warren did, I was too dead inside for a long time. He was always there for me, though. He started to take me out, make me feel special, make me feel loved.”

I sigh, thinking to myself, trying to figure out what to say next. Where am I going with this, anyway?

“What was the day that I knew I loved him though? Really, sure I loved him?” I ask, more to myself, since I have to figure out what to say. “It was the end of our first year in pastry school. We had been working together on a final project: a wedding cake, and gotten it in just under the deadline. As we walked back to the dorm, eye lids heavy from not sleeping the past week, muscles tired, hooves burnt, fur singed, but knowing that I was only here because Carrot had been willing to take the time to pick up the pieces after what Warren had done almost four years before, I suddenly knew there would never be a day I wouldn’t want to be with him. Do you feel that way about Turner?”

Biting her lip, Ditzy nods her head.

“Ditzy, I wish more than anything I could promise there’ll never be another pony like Hallmark in your life. It’s just a risk you have to take. Is Turner is worth that risk?”

She nods again. I lean down and give a little kiss to Ditzy’s crown.

There’s a knock on the front door. I look over my shoulder, and see Carrot through the glass, balancing a huge sack of flour on his back. I open the door and let him trot inside. “I swear,” he says, “we have to lock up the flour whenever Pinkie babysits. What does she do with it all?” Maybe my eyes are a bit puffy, because he asks, “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, everything is fine. Can you watch the shop for a while? I’m just going to go out for a walk.”

His lips touch mine. I feel my heart jump. Without a word of why he kissed me, or even an acknowledgement he did it, he trots into the back and sets the bag of flour down. Trotting to the counter, he pours Ditzy another cup of hot chocolate and chats with her.

Time Turner’s house isn’t far from the bakery. Going at a brisk pace, I make it in just a few minutes. The door is unlocked. I go inside. Turner isn’t at the front desk, but he almost never is. Normally, when I come by with a delivery, he’s in his workshop. That’s where I trot back to and find him.

“Turner,” I call out. When he doesn’t answer, I trot over and gently tap his shoulder. He sputters to life and spins around. He’s wearing a pair of microscope lenses, so when he turns to me, he must just see the blue of my fur. It’s a shocking enough sight he stumbles back. After a moment or two, he pulls the goggles off and blinks several times at me, his eyes adjusting quickly.

“Oh, geez, did I forget to pay you for the muffin?” he asks.

“I’m sorry, Turner?”

“You brought me the carrot muffin. Did I not pay you?

“Turner, that was this morning.”

He rubs his sore, red eyes and shakes the cobwebs out of his brain. “Oh, forgive me. Princess Celestia has commissioned a grandfather clock as a gift for the Griffon King. It has sapped up quite a bit of my attention.” Looking around, unsure what to do with himself, he finally says, “I did pay for the muffin, right?”

“You have an account at the bakery, Turner. When was the last time you slept?”

He stares with a blank expression, and finally admits, “That would depend on what today is. You want some coffee?”

I smile and nod, and follow him into the kitchen.

“Sorry it’s burnt. I’ve sort of been nursing this pot over the past few days… I think… A day at least. I haven’t made another pot since you brought me the muffin. I can make a fresh one, if I have any coffee left.”

“It is fine Turner,” I say. I take the offered cup and bring it to my lips. Just by the smell, I can tell it’s practically toxic. After a fake sip, I set the cup on the counter. “Ditzy stopped by the bake shop. You are taking her out?”

Turner’s eyes go wide. “Oh by the sun, did I miss our date?”

“No, no. It’s not until tomorrow. You should have more than enough time to take a shower and get some sleep. If I may ask, where are you taking her?”

The Apple Core.” Turner can’t keep a grin from spreading across his lips. “Mr. Macintosh is going to cook us a special dinner, a little thank you for a repair job I did a while ago. He’s going to close the bar and let us eat by candlelight, while he, Applejack, and Apple Bloom serve as our waiters.”

“Then what do you plan to do?” I ask.

Turner is blushing now. “Uhm… I don’t know. I guess I will see how Ditzy is feeling. I will take her home, or if she wants, she can stay here. She has spent the night plenty of times.”

“You only have the one bedroom though.”

Turner takes a sip of his coffee. He must be accustomed to the awful taste, since he doesn’t so much as wince. Some ponies like repulsive things, I guess. Carrot puffs cigars sometimes, and bleh, they are rancid to my palate. “Well, yes, technically one bedroom. I put a cot in my workshop a while ago though. Sometimes I find it easier than having to trudge up all those stairs. I can just sleep in there if she wants me to.”

He laughs nervously. I must be making him nervous. May as well stop beating around the bush. “Do you love Ditzy?”

If I thought he was blushing before, he suddenly looks like a cherry. “Wh-what?”

“She loves you. You should see how her eyes glisten every time she speaks about you. She would do anything for you. So, do you love her? I mean really love her. Are you willing to do anything for her, help her, protect her, make sure she never wants or needs for anything?”

Straightening himself out and lifting his head, he says in a sure voice, “I do. Ditzy is everything to me. She helps me loosen up and have fun. She makes me smile. I hope I am as good for her as she is for me.”

“I think you are. I think you’re a good fella, but I have seen good fellas turn bad. You work a hard job, Turner, with long hours and a lot of stress, and Ditzy can be clumsy sometimes. What if there is an accident? What if she knocks over the grandfather clock you’ve been working on? What if you’re angry about that?”

“I would never hurt Ditzy,” he says through clenched teeth.

“What about tomorrow? You’re taking her out to dinner, calling in a few favors to make it happen, so what happens if she’s too tired and just wants to sleep in your bed? What then?”

I touched a nerve. Turner leans close and presses his face right against mine. The fatigue is gone from his eyes, replaced by fury. “I know what she has been through. I know what that piece of mud did to her, and I swear on my life I would never do anything like that to her or any pony else. I love Ditzy, and I want to show her how much I love her, but I would never force her to show how much she loves me.”

I take a step back and lower my head. Suddenly, I feel awful and sick. “I’m sorry Turner. I…I don’t know… I just don’t want to see her get hurt again. You know what happened with Hallmark, but I was there for it.”

“You care about Ditzy,” he says and puts a hoof on my shoulder. “I do too. So please just know I will never hurt her.”

I sigh softly and nod. Unsure what to do with myself, I set the cup of coffee in the kitchen sink. “Think about getting some sleep and a shower. You want to look your best for Ditzy, right?”

He nods and sees me out. It’s only a bit after noon when I trot out onto the street and take a breath of clean air. Turner’s shop always smells so musky and old. It’s not horrid, but it’s not pleasant either, and I look forward to the sweet smells of the bakery. Maybe Ditzy is still there, since it’s her day off. I’d like to see her. Most of all though, Carrot, my Carrot, is there. I’m really looking forward to giving him a kiss.