I wolfed down the last of my bagel just before entering Coco's shop the next morning, the coffee I had purchased along with it still steaming. I took a small sip as the bell above the door rang in my wake. "Coco? You here?"
Coco smiled as she trotted from the back. "Good morning, Candy. Where's Rarity and Applejack?"
I waved a fore-hoof towards the door. "They're hitting the streets trying to round up ponies to help with the revival."
Her smile widened. "Oh, very good. I've already gotten started on the costume alterations for 'My Fair Filly.' You want to head on back with me?"
I nodded and glanced at the window as I took another sip of coffee. She had the "OPEN" sign out. "You're still going to be doing business today?"
"I have to," said Coco. "While the shop is fairly successful, the costumes for the revival are going to set me back a bit. I have to keep up with expenses."
"I can help with tending to customers, if you want."
Coco tilted her head. "You can?"
I smiled. "Mom has me do that at the boutique. I'm sure I can handle it here, too."
"Thank you so much!" Coco gushed. "That will really help. Come on, let's get started."
I trotted into the back with her and quickly fell into a natural rhythm similar to what I did at the boutique. Coco had different approaches to fashion than Mom did, but it didn't take me very long to adapt. The work evoked a strange mix of emotions in me. Doing this in a place so reminiscent of one of my mother's first stores felt both exciting and surreal.
We traded the job of waiting on customers between us, depending on who happened to be more free at that moment. I occasionally got so involved in my work that I had to use the reheat spell twice on my coffee. I had just finished some particularly tricky stitching when the bell above the front door rang.
"Can you get that one, Candy?" Coco said as she fed fabric carefully through a sewing machine. "This is going to take me a while."
I slurped down the last of my coffee and tossed the container into a wastebasket. "On it," I said as I cantered towards the front. I paused to get the words straight in my head, so used to as I was to those I spoke when greeting customers at the boutique. "Welcome to Coco's Sensible Fashions, how may I ... oh!"
I stopped short as a familiar grin met me. "Well, small world, isn't it?" said Digs as she leaned one fore-leg on the counter, a billowy white dress draped over her barrel.
"Um, yes, I suppose it is," I said with a small smile as I stepped forward.
"Sooo, you came all the way back to Manehattan just to work in a clothing shop?"
"Well, not really." I hesitated in a moment of mental debate. "Okay, well, long story short, my mother and her friend are here to help Coco with some community theater revival, and I'm helping Coco catch up on her work."
Digs jabbed a hoof in the air towards me. "Oh, yeah, I know whatcha talkin' about now. Huh, thought that would fall by the wayside since the pony runnin' it left town."
"Coco's trying to pick it up herself."
Digs nodded once. "More power to her, then. It's not a small task."
I rubbed a hoof through my mane. "Yeah, she kinda found that out the hard way."
Digs glanced at the dress on her barrel. "So, is Coco still taking in business today, or should I scram?"
"Depends on what you need," I said. "If it's alterations, I can do that for you."
Digs considered. "Well ... it's kinda more than that. You wanna take a peek?"
"Sure." I carefully levitated the wedding dress to the counter, mindful of what Mom told me about using magic to handle delicate fabric. The dress was indeed very light, and very well made, an antique white with brighter lace accents and a lovely, hoof-stitched pattern of flowing curls. I slowly turned it over and spread it out. "So what do you need done with ..."
I trailed off as my gaze fell on an ugly, ragged gash in the side of the dress, easily nearly as long as my fore-leg. I tried not to cringe at the very inexpert stitch that had been added to prevent more threads from unraveling. Digs must have caught something in my body language, as she sighed and nodded. "I know, I know, I totally suck at sewing, but I wasn't quite thinking straight at the time."
I smiled gently. "It's fine. What happened to it?"
"Eh, not really important. I was hoping maybe Coco could, well, repair it somehow."
My heart skipped a beat. "You want this patched?"
"Yeah," said Digs. "I mean, as best as can be done."
I stared at the tear. The fabric was slightly translucent and very thin. I recognized it at once, as my skill at patch work demanded it. Unfortunately, it had been discontinued four years ago. "I'll do the best I can."
Digs raised an eyebrow and smirked. "You?"
I blushed slightly, realizing what I had said. "Um, I mean ... if Coco is okay with that. If you're okay with that. I can't promise magic, but--"
The bell tinkled as another customer entered the store. I intended only to take a glance, but my gaze lingered when I beheld another familiar face as Rosey trotted forward, a floral-print dress draped over her barrel.
"Heh, so you're good at this sort of thing?" Digs said.
Rosey froze in mid-step, one fore-hoof raised, her pupils shrinking.
Digs gave me a curious look, then turned her head towards where I was staring. A moment of uneasy silence descended over the room along with a tension so palpable it seemed to electrify the air. Digs finally turned herself fully towards Rosey and thundered, "What in Tartarus are you doing here?!"
I just stared as Rosey's gaze flicked from me back to Digs. Rosey swallowed and slowly lowered her hoof with a faint clop. She took a deep breath. "Daisy, please, I--"
Digs stomped a fore-hoof so hard the floor shook. "Don't call me that! Don't ever call me that! In fact, why are you even talking to me at all?!"
A frown flickered across Rosey's face, but she banished it quickly. Nevertheless, her voice held a slight edge as she spoke. "It's been almost ten years, don't you think we should let--?"
"Meaning it hasn't been long enough!" Digs roared.
My heart ached as I saw the mix of anger and deep hurt flicker across Rosey's face. I recognized that look all too well. I saw in the mirror quite a bit for years. "I didn't want to meet you again this way," said Rosey.
Digs recoiled. "This way?? Just what were you planning, huh? You don't just pop back into town for no reason. You never do anything without a reason."
Rosey frowned. "Well, if you must know, maybe I simply wanted to ... to see how my daughter was doing after all this time."
Rosey was Digs' mother? I supposed that if an earth pony like Mrs. Cake could give birth to a unicorn and a pegasus, then the opposite could happen, too.
"That's a lie," Digs growled. "But I've come to expect that from you."
Should I try to defuse this? The more I listened, the more I sympathized, even though I didn't know anywhere near the whole story. I hated the idea of letting them go at each other, but I had little choice. I could read Rosey's emotions a bit, but Digs simply bristled with so much anger I could tell very little about what she was feeling beyond that.
Digs stepped towards her mother. "I'll tell you why you're here. You want to ruin my do-over of the wedding just like you ruined the first one!"
"Dai ... Digger, no, I wasn't going to do that!" Rosey snapped.
"Stop lying! You do so intend to go!"
"Yes, I do, but not to ruin it!" Rosey yelled. She took a breath and forced her voice lower. "I had planned to slip in unnoticed, just hover near the back and ... and talk to you only afterward." Her eyes glistened. "Digger ... I'm not the same mare I once was."
Digs snorted. "Yeah, you got that right. You stopped being a mother a long time ago."
I flinched, and Rosey could only stare helplessly at her daughter.
Digs turned towards me. "Candy, please do what you can in patching this dress, and for the love of Luna, keep this bitch away from it."
My mouth dropped open. I had since learned that that particular curse word, one of the few that had a translation into Equestrian, was considered extremely vulgar. Mom had all but forbidden me from using it.
Digs looked at me with an expression where anger now became infused with a chaotic mix of hurt and pleading, as if she were silently begging me to understand her reaction. She narrowed her eyes and hardened her face before turning around and stomping for the exit. Rosey's wings fluttered as she scrambled out of the way. Her right wing -- the one that didn't lay quite as flat -- moved more sluggishly than the other.
Rosey watched her go, then turned her misting eyes towards me.
I struggled to find any words that would suit. "Um ... I ... I'm really sorry about that."
I knew the words were trite, and Rosey sighed. "No, I ... maybe I deserved that. It's not important."
I levitated the wedding dress to the side. "Is there something I can help you with?"
Her eyes flicked over to the dress. "Maybe if you could make my daughter's dress whole again, she won't hate me so much."
"Um ..."
She shook her head. "Strike that. Even that wouldn't ... well, I guess it doesn't matter anymore. Sorry to bother you."
Rosey started to turn. "No, Rosey, wait!" I heard myself cry.
She paused and turned her head towards me.
"Did ... did you want something done with your dress?"
"I did, but now ..."
"Let me alter it for you," I said. "Please."
She turned fully towards me. "Why? What's the point?"
I didn't have an answer. All I had was a vague instinct, a desire, an urge. "Just in case?" I offered, despite how lame it sounded even to my ears.
Rosey hesitated before trotting forward. "All right. I haven't worn it in ages. It needs to be adjusted for my right wing ..."
I took her measurements largely in silence. Her right wing was indeed rather stiff, and it sat wrong against her body compared to what I had seen in other pegasi. The alterations would be fairly easy to do. "I can do this by tomorrow."
She smiled faintly. "Thank you, Candy, you're very kind." She paused. "Could somepony deliver the dress to me at my hotel? I don't want to risk running into Daisy ... I mean Digger again."
"I'll see what I can do."
Rosey nodded. "Thank you. Nice to meet you again, Candy."
"Same here."
She gave me a melancholy smile before heading out of the shop. I heard Coco come up from behind me. "Candy, is everything okay? I thought I heard Digs yelling out here."
"Uh, yeah." I levitated the wedding dress. "She wants this repaired."
Coco's pupils shrank. "I'm not sure I can!"
"I'm going to try it, if you're okay with that. I have some skill with this sort of thing."
Coco slowly smiled. "You're welcome to try, then. But who was Digs yelling at? Not you, I hope."
"No. Her mother."
Coco gasped and raised a fore-hoof to her muzzle. "Her mother is in town? Oh, dear."
I sighed as I set the dress down. "Yeah, that's the size of it."
Coco glanced at the door. "Um, Candy, I hate to ask this, but ... when Rosey was here, did she seem ... okay to you?"
I tilted my head. "Okay? Well, one of her wings looked a little crooked."
"I don't mean that. Did she seem coherent?"
I blinked. "Well, yeah, she did."
"Are you sure she wasn't, um, how should I put this, under the influence?"
My ears drew back. "You mean like she was drunk?"
"That, or anything else."
"No, not that I could see."
Coco sighed. "Good."
I frowned. "Coco, what's going on here? Why does Digs hate her mother so much?"
Coco shook her head. "I only know a little of the story, and I'm not sure how much Digs would want me to say. I've sort of said a bit too much as it is. I hope you can understand."
"Yeah, I do," I said with a sigh.
But that didn't mean I wasn't going to try to find out.
I levitated yet another bolt of fabric onto the work table and unwrapped enough material to compare it to the wedding dress, only to frown when I discovered yet again it didn't precisely match. In this case, the consistency and weave were correct, but the color was far too off base; the bolt was bright white when I needed more of an antique white.
I set it aside and levitated two other bolts I had checked earlier. Both were almost the exact color, but one was too thick and the other had sparkly bits woven into it. I clicked my tongue in a manner that I often heard Mom do and dropped both bolts back to the table. "This is hopeless," I muttered.
I turned to the ponyquin on which the wedding dress sat and sighed as I stared at the tear. I didn't look away even as I heard Coco trot into the room. "Any luck with the dress, Candy?"
"Yeah. All of it bad," I grumbled.
"Sorry to hear that." She stood alongside me. "But at least I managed to get the alterations done for 'My Fair Filly'."
My eyes widened as I turned to her. "You finished the ..." I lifted a hoof to my head. "Oh, ponyfeathers, how long have I been at this?"
Coco smiled faintly. "For about the last hour or so."
"Coco, I'm so sorry, I was supposed to be helping you with--"
"No, it's okay," Coco said. "You helped give me a head start earlier, and I appreciate you dealing with the customers and freeing up my time."
I managed a smile.
Coco's gaze shifted to the dress. "You've really taken on a challenge here. I'm honestly not sure this will work out."
"You and me both." My mind drifted back to the train platform in Ponyville, when Doctor Whooves had tried to tell me that the same magic had worked with his suit. Was that supposed to happen here, too? Should I just patch this dress without worrying about how perfect it came out and ... then what?
"Will you still be able to work on the alterations for Rosey's dress?" Coco asked.
"Yeah, no problem. Maybe I should just do that first since that won't take me long."
"Thanks, Candy." Coco sighed. "Now maybe I can get started on the costumes for the revival. I have no idea how I'm going to finish them on time. I really hope Rarity and Applejack find enough ponies for me to catch up."
I turned to another ponyquin and levitated Rosey's dress from it to the last empty spot on the work table. As I started to carefully remove an existing stitch without tearing the fabric, Coco stepped closer and smiled. "You really do fantastic work."
I blushed slightly. "Oh, um, thanks. I did like working with you earlier."
"We did make a good team, didn't we?"
"Yeah, I'm just sorry I can't help with the costume design," I said. "I'm just not quite that good at it yet."
It didn't seem like I was getting any better at it, either. I had not inherited that talent from my birth mother nor had it managed to rub off on me from Mom. I think Mom was waiting for the right moment to break it to me gently that original creations may be beyond my grasp.
Coco turned away. "That's okay. I'm going to get some work done on it and break for lunch up in my apartment. You're welcome to join me."
I considered as I continued to work on the stitch removal. "Actually, I think I want to work a little longer. I can just grab something from the hayburger place down the street if it gets late."
Coco smiled softly. "Just don't overwork yourself."
I grinned back at her. "Just worry about yourself. I'm fine. Oh, before you go, I meant to ask, how much do you want me to charge for the alteration?"
"Well, that's up to you."
"It is?"
She gestured towards the dress with a fore-hoof. "You're the one doing the alteration, so you should be paid for it. Same for the patch work on the wedding dress."
I sighed. "I didn't intend to steal business from you, Coco."
She chuckled. "I don't think of it that way. You all came all the way from Ponyville to help me. This is the least I can do. Please, don't worry about it."
"I'll try not to," I said with a small grin.
Coco smiled and headed out.
I went at the alterations with a single-minded determination, trying not to let my thoughts get clouded with the wedding dress. I worked through Coco leaving for lunch, which I noticed only when I heard the back door open and close. Not long afterward, the bell rang on the front door. I set down the needle I was just about to thread and headed to the front. "Oh, hey, Mom," I said when I saw her and Applejack. I took one look at their expressions and cast a wary gaze at them. "Um, dare I ask how it went?"
"It didn't," Mom declared with a despairing sigh.
"Not a single pony wants ta give us the dang time of day, let alone help with the revival," Applejack grumbled.
I had a bad feeling it might turn out that way, but I hadn't wanted to burst their bubble. I had hoped that perhaps a pony version of a big city might be a little different, but I supposed urban living just tended to be that way no matter what world it was. "So what now?"
"So now we break it to Coco," said Mom.
"That's fine an' dandy, but I ain't got no clue what to do next," Applejack said.
"Let's talk to her first before we assume the worst." Mom turned to me. "Dear, where's Coco?"
"She's up in her apartment," I said.
"Do you want to accompany us?"
"I'm working on an alteration. I want to finish that and then head out to grab some lunch." I paused. "I ... might want to deliver it, too."
Mom smiled. "I can tell there's a story behind that, but it will have to wait until later. Just do be careful and don't be too late getting back."
"I won't, I promise," I said.
Time crept by as I toiled on Rosey's dress, and the sudden appearance of both Coco and Mom in the back of the shop surprised me. "Still working on that, dear?" Mom asked with a gentle touch of her hoof to my shoulder.
"Yeah, but I'm almost finished," I said as my stomach rumbled.
"You always did underestimate how long alterations take for pegasi," said Mom. "And you skipped lunch, didn't you?"
I rolled my eyes. "Just delayed it, that's all." I glanced from her to Coco. "So what's up?"
Coco smiled. "Rarity is going to help me with the costumes for the revival."
"Meanwhile, Applejack will work on fixing up the park," said Mom.
"Er, the park?" I asked in confusion. "What park?"
"Why, the one across the street, of course."
I stared. "That's a park? I thought it was an abandoned junkyard."
"Ah, well," said Mom as Coco's smile faded a bit. "It has gone to seed a tad."
That was far more than a "tad," but I wisely said nothing. "Well, I'll get this alteration finished and be out of your way."
Mom nodded, and I held my breath as her gaze lingered on the wedding dress for a moment, the tear clearly visible. She simply smiled softly and headed off with Coco. Now my gaze rested on it as well, and emotions swirled in my head amongst the words of the first part of that letter from my dreams.
I can fix things only so far / And in the end, it still looks marred.
I frowned and tore my gaze from the dress. No, I had to take this one step at a time, even if I didn't quite know where those steps would take me. I finished the last stitch on Rosey's dress, boxed it carefully, donned my saddlebags, and headed out.
With the dress safely in its box, I felt safe enough in grabbing a hayburger first. The trip to the hotel was a bit of a hike, but I didn't care. It gave me the chance to take in the sights. Some of the initial shine had worn off, and I could more easily see the differences between Manehattan and the city that had truly been my home.
Yet I smiled anyway as I trotted along the city streets. No, this was not my former home, but I enjoyed it just the same. Perhaps some of my initial reaction had been tinted through the rose-colored lens of an imagined happier time as a kid, but I knew I needed to look past that. Perhaps now I saw myself as I might have been had things worked out better in my earlier life. I realized only then how much I had loved New York as a kid, almost as much as my birth mother had.
Once I reached the hotel, I realized I had no idea if Rosey would be there. When I told the front desk that I had a package for one of their guests, though, they simply waved me on through when I told them what it was. I stood outside her hotel room and rapped a fore-hoof on the door.
At first I heard no response and thought for sure she had stepped out. Just as I was about to turn away, the door unlatched and opened. "Candy?" Rosey asked in confusion. "Is something wrong?"
I hesitated when my gaze fell upon her. Her eyes were bloodshot, her mane was in disarray, and her feathers were ruffled. I remembered the odd question Coco had asked me, and I barely repressed a shudder as I was reminded of how terrible my birth mother looked right before the end. I said in a wary voice, "Maybe I should be asking that of you."
Rosey sighed but managed a weak smile. "Pay me no mind. What is it? Did something go wrong with the alteration?"
I managed a small smile. "Nope." I levitated the box out of my saddlebag. "I finished it."
Her pupils shrank slightly, which made their bloodshot nature painfully more apparent, and the memory all that much more vivid. "You're done already?"
"I, um, kinda put a rush on it," I said. "Like I said, just in case."
Rosey's smile widened slightly as she took the box under her left wing. "Thank you so much, Candy. What do I owe you?"
I waved a fore-hoof. "Don't worry about it. It's on the house."
"Oh, but I couldn't!"
"You don't have to, because I am."
Rosey's eyes misted. "You are so very generous."
I smiled. "I get it from my Mom."
"You mother must be very proud of you," said Rosey.
I blushed. "Well, I'd like to think so, but ..."
"And I have to admit, I have no idea how she manages to look so young after having raised a teenage daughter."
I rubbed a hoof through my mane. "Well, about that ... she's actually my foster mother."
Rosey tilted her head. "Oh, I didn't know."
I shrugged. "It's okay. My birth mother's been dead for a while now."
"I'm so sorry to hear that."
"Really, it's okay, I'm over it." I paused, my gaze flicking over her. "Well, mostly. The circumstances behind it sometimes bug me, but it's in the past."
"Circumstances?"
I hesitated. "Um ..."
Rosey shook her head. "Sorry, I don't know what possessed me to say that. Please, you don't have to answer."
And yet, I felt I needed to. "It's fine. It's just not the most cheerful subject. Without going into the gory details, she died of a drug overdose."
Rosey's mouth slowly dropped open. Her eyes watered until a few tears slid down her face.
I stared. "Um ... are you okay?"
Rosey swallowed hard. Her wings trembled, and the box fell to the floor.
My heart raced. Deeply buried memories disgorged themselves into my mental landscape. My birth mother, barely able to do anything without trembling or shaking, and ... "Rosey? Do you need me to get somepony?" I paused. "Do you need a doctor?"
Rosey shook her head, tears still flowing. "I made a terrible mistake in coming to Manehattan, th-that's all. I ..." She looked at the box on the floor. "Candy, please, even my good wing doesn't work as well since I can barely fly anymore. Could you ...?"
"Of course." I stepped over the threshold of the door as I levitated the box, even though I could have done it from the hallway. Rosey gestured with a fore-hoof towards the bureau. I stepped further inside as I set it down. My gaze tracked over the bed and the night table. Several wadded-up tissues lay on the latter, and more in the waste basket next to it. I felt guilty for thinking her state had been the result of something more sinister.
Not that the thought of her sitting up here crying her eyes out was pleasant, either.
Rosey closed the door and sank to her haunches as she turned to face me. "You must think me a stupid old mare," she muttered, her gaze downcast.
I hesitated in my response, but only because of the sheer hopelessness in her demeanor. "No, of course, I don't."
She swallowed hard and raised her head. "Candy, please, tell me the truth. What were you thinking when you first saw me come to the door?"
I sighed. "Does it really matter?"
"Yes, it does."
"Well, I thought you ... that maybe you were sick." What was I supposed to say? That she reminded me of my birth mother on drugs? Maybe my response wouldn't pass muster with Applejack, but Rosey's emotional state seemed too delicate for the truth right now. Besides, my thought stream had been triggered by a question from Coco rather than any serious suspicions on my part.
Rosey paused a long moment, then finally rose to her hooves. "I guess in a way, I once was. I hate to ask this, but do you really think you can do something with Digger's dress?"
"I don't know yet." I paused. "Why?"
She gave me a humorless smile. "You mean you haven't figured it out yet? I was the one who ripped it."
My ears drew back slightly. "On purpose?"
"No, by accident, but ... well, let's just say I wasn't myself at the time."
I glanced around the hotel room. If I knew one thing about addiction of any kind, people sometimes left telltale signs about if they didn't think anypony would be coming to call on them, such as an empty liquor bottle or drug paraphernalia. Admittedly, I had no idea what the latter might look like in Equestria. Twilight had once implied that drug addiction did happen here but was rare. I later read that Princess Celestia rigidly enforced laws concerning trafficking in such substances, and she apparently showed the traffickers themselves very little mercy.
The hotel room was pristine. If Rosey did have some sort of issue in the past, she was probably clean now. She showed no sign she was simply in withdrawal.
I turned to her. "What did it?"
Rosey stared. "What ... I don't understand."
"What happened that got you off whatever you were on?"
A frown flickered across her face, but it soon faded, and one corner of her mouth rose slightly. "You're quite the direct young lady, aren't you?"
"Yeah, pretty much. I've had experience with this, unfortunately."
Her half-smirk faded. She extended her bum wing. "This happened. Four years ago. I was trying to wrangle a rogue thunderstorm while working on the Baltimare weather team. I was blissed out of my skull. A wind shear I would've normally handled smashed me into the side of a building. I would've died if my teammates hadn't noticed my state and kept close tabs on me."
I bit my lip as I recalled the many times I thought I should somehow intervene with my birth mother and never did. "I'm sorry."
Rosey refolded her wing. "Don't be. It's my own fault. The wing actually would be usable if the accident hadn't torn the mana channels to shreds."
I winced. "But isn't that supposed to heal, too?"
"Not when your blood is saturated with baneful bliss."
My Arcane Theorems class had gone into detail about how pegasus magic worked. Wings alone were not enough; they actually channeled magic that helped them fly. All the stories of Tirek made a lot more sense after I had learned that.
And now I had a name for the drug: baneful bliss.
I fought to keep memory at bay. I didn't want to run the risk of projecting any lingering resentments over the past onto Rosey. She had managed to do what my birth mother couldn't. I had to give her credit for that. Yet I could also imagine the pain that Digs had gone through.
Rosey stepped up to me. "Candy, you really did think I was on something when you arrived, didn't you?"
I sighed and nodded. "Again, I'm sorry."
Rosey placed a fore-hoof on my shoulder, her eyes glistening. "No, it's fine. Did Digger tell you about me?"
"No, Coco mentioned it. I guess Digs mentioned it to her at some point. She wouldn't tell me much more than that." I tilted my head. "Wait. Does Digs know you're clean now?"
"No," Rosey said in a low voice. "I doubt she would believe me." She forced a small smile. "Thank you for working on my dress, even if I'm not going to get a chance to use it. And thank you for listening to me, but I'm sure you want to be on your way now, and I probably should get packed and get on the next train back to Baltimare."
Suddenly, the letter from my dream came to me again.
Like the hearts I wish I could renew / I have so much to do.
She turned away from me.
"Wait," I said.
Rosey hesitated, then turned her head towards me.
"I, um ... just don't give up hope yet, okay?" I said.
"But there's nothing you can do."
"Yes, there is!" I paused. "I'm going to fix your daughter's dress."
Rosey sighed. "I appreciate the sentiment, but I doubt even that--"
I stepped up to her. "Look, just trust me on this, please. Stay in town for now."
Rosey swallowed. "Do you know how hard it is to be near my ... b-but she ..." She took a deep breath and let it go. "All right, I'll try."
For once, I could say I had some idea what I was doing. I finally understood what had perplexed me before: I had assumed some force was supposed to push me forward, and things would just fall into place. I wasn't even approaching it anymore from the perspective of a special talent or a cutie mark. All I knew was what I wanted to do in the here and now and not what I thought was expected of me on some more grandiose scale.
The dream hadn't been my birth mother trying to contact me as maybe I would have liked, or forcing some fate or life path on me as I would have feared. Instead, it was my own head trying to sort itself out and using the one kind of imagery that was sure to grab my attention. Only once I had separated a pining for the past from a genuine allure of the present did I get it. I still didn't understand quite all the imagery, but I had a damn good start.
I smiled. "Thanks. I'll contact you again as soon as I can." I headed for the door but paused just short of it. "Rosey? Can I ask you one more thing?"
Rosey nodded once.
"Why did you call your daughter 'Daisy'?"
Rosey smiled faintly. "Because that was her original given name: Daisy Flower. My husband and I ..." Her smile faded slightly. "Ex-husband and I were surprised when I gave birth to an earth pony. She soon lived up to her name. Even as a foal, she had an amazing ability to grow flowers no matter how bad the soil or the weather. We thought for sure that she would get her cutie mark in that."
"But she didn't," I said.
Rosey's smile disappeared. "No, she didn't. She ... changed her interests at one point."
From the gravity of her tone, I could tell that was not the whole story by any means, but I doubted I would get any more from her. She wore the face of a pony too emotionally exhausted to divulge any more details.
Besides, now I had to get Digs' side of the story.