“Have fun at school, Apple Bloom!” I yell, tightening the strap for Brio’s baby carrier.
She glances back, huffing in frustration. “Yeah, whatever,” she grumbles before trotting out the door. Consarn that girl and her sullen attitude. What’s gotten into my little Bloom?
I pick Brio up, pulling the soggy corner of the quilt out of his mouth. “Is momma’s little guppy hungry? Does he need some nummy-nums?” I coo, setting him in the carrier. “Let’s go get him some yummies, okay?”
He beams, giggling as he kicks his tail cheerfully, spouting happy baby babble. Smiling, I grab my hat from where it hangs on the wall and swing it up on my head, then grab Winona’s leash where it hangs on the peg next to it. I drape it over my shoulders for now, stepping outside.
“Winona!” I yell, closing the house door behind me. “Here girl! Come on Winona!” A moment passes and she comes running over, panting cheerfully. “Good girly,” I tell her, scratching behind her ears before I clip her leash on. She pauses, lifting her nose to sniff Brio, and give him a couple licks hello. Brio stares down at her, ears flattened back, eyes wide, and apparently very confused.
Chuckling, I take the handle of the red leash in my teeth and start walking, enjoying the rough dirt and dew dripped grass beneath my hooves. I’d take the country sun over the city any day.
After a while, my little trio reaches town, and we walk a while longer before Rarity catches up with us.
“Oh darling I’m so sorry I’m late! Sweetie Belle got her tail stuck in the ceiling fan somehow, and I couldn’t bear just to cut it loose, and then I forgot our morning walk was today instead of tomorrow and started sketching designs for my newest line-I’m such an awful friend!” she wails, and I flinch back a bit at her over-the-top dramatics.
“It’s fine, I was a bit slow to get going myself,” I tell her after I tie the handle of Winona’s leash to my saddle bag.
“Oh, I am so very sorry about that,” Rarity says, eyes going wider. “I never should have set up that date! Poor Apple Jack! Flirted with by a waiter, then swelling up and passing out! It must have been so very terribly romantic for Trenderhoof to carry you to the hospital-tell me, was the waiter handsome?” she asks, a faint tone of morbid curiosity in her voice.
“I dunno about any of that, really,” I say, my coat burning red. “You couldn’t have known it would all go to seed like that. But Granny’s made me promise to take my pills with me everywhere now,” I say, chuckling slightly.
“And how is little Brio doing?” she asks, cootchicootchichooing to the little blue siren. “I’ve actually been working on another jumper for him; I’ve been thinking a nice green, perhaps with some white accents,” she adds, beaming.
“That’s awful thoughtful of you, Rarity. Little fella’s been doing well as he could, I suppose. I think he’s a mite hungry, though,” I say with a chuckle.
He cranes his head, beaming up around at me. “Jay-Jay!” he announces happily, bouncing.
I blink, then look up at Rarity. “Did you hear that? Rarity did you hear!?” I can’t help the grin that splits my face. I pull him out of the carrier, cuddling him close. “He said my name! Brio said my name!”
She pauses, tipping her head to the side. “Jay-Jay? Apple Jack, darling, I’m rather sure that isn’t your name,” she says in mild confusion.
“Oh hush, he was trying to say AJ,” I tell her, beaming as I cuddle him. “He’s talking already! Time sure does fly faster than a train without tracks,” I say.
Rarity giggles slightly, rolling her eyes. “Well good for both of you,” she says, beaming.
“Jay-Jay!” laughs Brio again. Winona barks, as if celebrating his first words with us.
I tuck him back into the carrier still beaming. “That’s right my little guppy, I’m your momma Jay-Jay,” I coo, stroking his head.
Rarity laughs full on now, smiling. “Celestia clearly knew what she was thinking when she asked you, darling,” she says.
I can’t help blush. “Aw, shucks, you really think so? I mean, I do try and all,” I say, rubbing the back of my head with my free hoof.
“I know so,” Rarity pauses confidently. She blinks, then jolts upward slightly, beaming. “Oh!” she takes a deep breath before continuing. “I nearly forgot to tell you-Trenderhoof had to leave on the late train last night-something about a sick dog at home-but first he asked me to give you this letter!” she says, floating a folded brown piece of paper from her bag, turning it to show me the red wax seal, then again to show me my name written on the front. She floats into my bag, still beaming. “Do you think it’s a confession of true love? Ooh, you must wait til your alone to read it, or it won’t be romantic enough!”
“It’s probably just an awkward apology for buying me something I was allergic to,” I tell her, rolling my eyes as we walk. “Anyhow, what’s up with Rainbow lately? She’s been so stiff.”
Rarity pauses, frowning slightly. “I hate to say it darling, but she’s only that way around you. I think she’s upset you haven’t been spending more time with her lately.”
“Guess that makes sense. But there was the weirdest thing; last night at the hospital, she said something about someone waiting for her-”
Rarity groans, closing her eyes. “Oh goodness, I thought that was a one time thing,” she laments aloud.
“What was a one time thing?” I ask, stopping mid-stride.
She grimaces. “Not to long ago, I was celebrating opening my Canterlot boutique, you know the one, with a vintage bottle of Saddle Arabian champagne. I may have gotten a wee-bit intoxicated, and, well, I figured it was a good time to plan a date for Rainbow Dash. I may have set her up with Trixie, and they may have gotten drunk, and may have decided to become friends with ‘benefits,’” she says, wincing.
“Wait, what? Why? I didn’t even think Trixie live in Ponyville,” I say, trying to sort it all out.
“Goodness know why,” Rarity says, shaking her head. “And she didn’t, not until recently; a couple weeks ago she bought the flat above the quill and sofa shop.”
I shake my head, letting out a long, slow sigh. “You don’t think it has anything to do with-”
“I do think so,” Rarity says firmly, offering me an apologetic smile. “How about I change the subject dear?”
“Thanks,” I sigh. “That would be nice.”