//------------------------------//
// Chapter 56 - Hearts Renewed 
// Story: Second Chances, Many Changes 
// by ASGeek2012 
//------------------------------//

"Now, Candy, are you absolutely sure you want to stay another day?" said Mom as we trotted over to Coco's shop the next morning.

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, Mom. Just like I was sure the last three times you asked me."

"I'm just concerned how much school you're going to miss. If you get on the morning train, you'll have time to make your afternoon classes."

"I know, but I promised Digs I'd repair her dress and, well ..."

Applejack grinned. "I think she's got more goin' on than jus' patchin' a dress if ya ask me."

"Yeah, that," I said.

Mom smiled. "I suppose you're right. I do wish you luck in your endeavor."

Applejack looked towards the park as we grew near. "I think I'm gonna need a bit of luck myself."

I gave her a sympathetic look. Whatever she had done in the park the day before, it had taken a toll even on her hat. Her poor stetson looked almost shredded.

"Really, darling, you ought to let me replace that hat," said Mom.

Applejack waved a hoof. "Don't worry 'bout that fer now." She took a deep breath. "Welp, better get back to it. See y'all later."

I watched Applejack head into the park before turning back to Mom. "Will you and Coco be able to get the costumes done?"

"We got a good start on it yesterday afternoon," said Mom. "We should have no trouble getting them done before the Method Mares show up for the dress rehearsal later."

As we approached Coco's shop, my gaze was drawn to a community theater flier attached to the wall. A corner had come loose and flapped in the breeze. I used the excuse of trying to tack it down to stop. "Hey, um, Mom, can I ask you something?"

"If you make it quick," said Mom.

I frowned as my attempt to fix the flier made more of the adhesive give way, making it hang even looser. "I wanted to know if you ever heard of something called baneful bliss?"

Mom gasped, her pupils shrinking to near pinpricks as she recoiled. "Candy!" she hissed. "Who ... d-did somepony offer you any?!"

"Huh? No! I -- hey!"

Her magical glow enveloped one of my forelegs and dragged me into the shadow of the building. "Candy, listen to me very carefully! If anypony even hinted that they had or could acquire any of that dreadful--"

I fell to my haunches and waved both forelegs. "Whoa, Mom, stop, chill out already! It's not like that!"

Mom sighed in exasperation. "Then why in Celestia's name did you even bring it up?"

I rose to my hooves. "Somepony had mentioned it to me, and, no, not to sell me any. It was something that happened in their past, that's all."

Mom relaxed slightly. "Well, all right. My apologies for overreacting."

"At least it answered my question about whether you had heard about it."

"I most certainly do not have personal experience with it."

"I didn't figure you did, but could you at least tell me what you know about it?"

Mom hesitated, glancing to the side for a moment and watching other ponies trot by. None appeared to care about our hushed conversation. "At its very essence, it's a flower."

That made sense. Many drugs back on Earth came from plants.

"It was once used in medicine," said Mom. "Mixed with other herbs, it can help alleviate pain for very bad injuries. By itself, though, it induces euphoria and can be very addicting. You need to stay away from it."

"Hey, realize who you're talking to," I said. "The pony whose original mother died from drugs."

Mom gave me a serious look. "Then you can't blame me for not wanting that fate to befall you. I was more concerned with somepony taking advantage of your ignorance of such things. I supposed I should have mentioned something about it, but we were in such a rush to get here--"

I shook my head. "Relax, it's okay. I have a little more street savvy than that, anyway."

Mom slowly smiled. "I sometimes forget you were raised in a place like this."

"So I take it the stuff is regulated?"

"Try banned," said Mom. "Since healers had found less troublesome substitutes, it's allowed to grow only in the wild."

I considered. "Doesn't it take some sort of processing before somepony can use it?"

"That's why the flower is so troublesome, dear. It can be grown and immediately consumed once it blossoms for the full effect."

"Huh. Yeah, I could see where that could be a problem."

Mom nodded. "If that's all you needed, and now that my heart has restarted properly ..."

I rolled my eyes but grinned.

"... we can head inside."

"Yeah, that's all I wanted to know," I said. "Thanks."

As we turned towards the store, a sudden gust of wind ripped the flier from the wall. Before I could snag it with my magic, it had vanished over the top of a nearby building.





I let out a relieved sigh as I set down the scissors and examined the patch material I had spent the last hour cutting with almost absurd precision. I glanced between it and the ponyquin, where the dress had been laboriously pinned so that the cloth around the torn area lay as it had been intended.

I turned fully towards the dress, gently applying the patch. The edges overlapped the torn area by the precise amount needed to secure it. I kept my eyes riveted to the dress as my magic floated a steady line of pins which inserted themselves at intervals to keep the patch in place.

I let my breath go as I took a step back. I had managed a better match than I had thought I might, but again, never as good as I want. To do anything more ... something else would have to happen.

"One step at a time," I whispered.

I was about to grab the needle and thread when the bell over the front door tinkled. I sighed and headed to the front. I didn't bother with the standard greeting when I saw who was standing at the counter.

"Heya, Candy," said Digs. "What's shakin'?"

I stepped up the counter. "I'm not quite done with your dress yet."

"Yeah, I figured," Digs said. "But I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd drop by. I, uh, kinda wanted to apologize for yesterday. I'm not usually that hot-headed."

"It's fine, I understand," I said in a soft voice.

"Also, um ..." She glanced out the window at the park, where I occasionally caught a glimpse of Applejack toiling away. "Maybe I don't like the idea that my mother is in town, but it did kinda remind me of this."

"It did?"

Digs smiled. "Yeah, I used to watch the theater every year. Seemed like it would just always be here, you know?" She paused. "You think Coco will pull off reviving it?"

I honestly had no idea. Applejack had been working all afternoon the day before and now a good chunk of the morning, and I saw very little difference. "Well, I hope so. I really--"

Before I could continue, Mom and Coco emerged from the back. A line of colorful costumes hung from a rack that glowed in Mom's magic. "We're done!" Mom proclaimed triumphantly.

"Oh, hello, Digs," said Coco with a soft smile.

"Heya, Coco." Digs' gaze flicked over the costumes. "Wow, these are gorgeous! They for the theater?"

"Yes, but I wouldn't have gotten them done without Rarity's help."

Digs grinned. "Heh, you know, I don't usually do pieces like this, but maybe I will do a write-up on it."

Coco blushed. "Thank you."

"Now, let's get going, darling, we don't have a moment to spare," said Mom.

Coco glanced at the clock. "Yes, the Method Mares will be here any minute."

"You got them back to do this?" said Digs. "Cool! Maybe I'll pop by and watch it myself."

Mom and Coco smiled before shepherding the costumes out of the shop.

Digs watched them go. When she turned back to me, her eyes were glistening.

"You okay?" I asked.

She chuckled. "Nothing gets past you, kid, does it? Just ... thinking. Like I said, hadn't been to see the community theater in a long while."

Something in the way she looked at me prompted my next question. "When was the last time you went?"

Digs' smile faded. "With my mother." She rolled her eyes and waved a fore-hoof. "Eh, never mind. Different time. Different ... Doesn't matter."

Except it did. Her eyes held the same look mine had so many times after my birth mother died, when I claimed it didn't matter to me anymore just to avoid anyone expressing undeserved sympathy. In reality, I just didn't want them triggering my own guilt.

"I spoke with your mother," I said.

A frown flickered across Digs' muzzle. "Oh, yeah?"

"She told me about the bliss."

Digs stiffened. "Huh." She paused a long moment. "Was she on it?"

"She's clean."

Digs snorted.

"She really is," I declared. "She's been so for a while."

Digs raised a dubious eyebrow. "You an expert on that?"

I hesitated. "Maybe not. Just ... my mother died from drugs."

Her ears flattened. She glanced out the window as Mom entered the park. "But I thought you said she was--?"

"She's my foster mother."

"I ... totally didn't pick up on that," Digs murmured. "Wonder why I missed that. I usually can tell that sort of thing." Her face hardened. "But maybe you can see where I'm comin' from."

I shuddered as I remembered all the resentment I had channeled into guilt. "Yeah, I can."

Digs considered. "Hey, uh, what made you go talk to her anyway?"

"I met her at the train station. She seemed like a nice pony."

Digs tilted her head. "The train station? What the hay was she doin' there?"

I raised an eyebrow. "What, seriously?"

"Yeah, seriously. She couldn't be taking a train."

"Why not?"

"She was a great weather flier back in the day in Manehattan before she left for Baltimare after the wedding. She flew everywhere, no matter how far."

I hesitated. "Um ..."

Digs narrowed her eyes. "What is it?"

"You ... you don't know about her accident?"

Her pupils shrunk, and she drew back a half step. "What?!"

"She had an accident. It ... she can't fly anymore."

Digs' lower lip quivered, and she swallowed hard. She averted her gaze and closed her eyes. "I bet ... I bet she was blissed out at the time, right?"

"Yes, but it was what got her off the--"

She whipped her head towards me, her eyes narrowed to slits. "Yeah, I thought so. It's not my ... it's her own fault, then! Maybe it's what she d-deserves for everything she--"

Her words were drowned out by a thunderous crash that rumbled through the floor and made the light fixtures swing. My ears flattened as I saw a plume of dust and debris rise from the park where I was sure a large structure had just been.

My blood ran cold. "Mom!" I screamed before galloping out the door. My panic was short-lived as I saw her standing just inside the entrance. She turned at my approach and met me as I hit the sidewalk. "Mom, you okay?!"

Mom gave me a brief but tight hug. "Candy, I'm fine. The, um, stage collapsed but nopony was hurt."

I glanced past her. Applejack stood on the other side of the wreckage, a harried looking mare near her. Another group stood off to the side, looking on with varying degrees of concern, disappointment, and disapproval. Coco sighed and hung her head as she stood next to the rack of costumes.

"I take it things are not going well," I said in a low voice.

Mom sighed. "Don't worry about it, Candy, we'll figure this out. I hope." She drew back from me. "I better go help Coco."

Digs trotted over as Mom headed back into the park. "Bad break for the theater, but I'm glad your mother's okay."

I took a deep breath. "I probably shouldn't have panicked like that, but when I heard the crash ..."

"Yeah, I know."

I turned to face her. "Digs, about what I told you concerning your mother--"

She frowned and raised a hoof. "Don't bother." She glanced into the park. "She probably made it up, anyway."

I stared. "Huh?? Why would she do that?"

"Look, all she she did for a long time was lie!" Digs thundered. "She lied every time somepony suspected something was up with her! She lied until my father left her! It wasn't until I investigated it myself that anypony found out what in Tartarus was going on." She narrowed her eyes. "Bet you anything she didn't tell you about her biggest lie of all. She lied to me, her little filly she so praised for my flower-growing talent, so I could grow the very same flower she blissed out on."

My stomach twisted. Was that what Rosey had alluded to when she mentioned how Digs' "interests" had changed? Having her own daughter grow that infernal flower was the equivalent of my birth mother sending me out to buy drugs. For all her faults, she had never done anything like that.

All I had to do was think of my own feelings immediately following her death to know just how easy I could believe Rosey had lied. And yet, I stomped a fore-hoof and said, "No."

Digs stared. "Huh?"

"I believe her," I declared. "She really had an accident, and it helped her get off the bliss."

Digs frowned. "Prove it."

"You're the investigative reporter," I snapped. "You prove it."

I cantered back to the shop, leaving a stunned Digs in my wake.





I heard Mom's hoof-steps behind me as I carefully applied another stitch to the dress but paid her no mind. Only when I heard something plop onto the worktable did I jab the needle safely into a pin cushion and turn around. I raised an eyebrow at the neatly folded brown paper bag. "What's this?"

"Lunch," said Mom.

I turned to the bag on the table and started to open it. "You didn't have to."

"Oh, yes, I did," she said in an admonishing voice. "You're going to get at least one healthy meal while we're here."

I rolled my eyes as I extracted a salad and an FLT (flower, lettuce, and tomato) sandwich from the bag. "Thanks."

Mom smiled and turned towards the ponyquin. "The dress appears to be coming along."

"Wish I could say the same for the ponies involved. I keep wondering if I was too hard on Digs."

"You were following your instincts, dear. Manehattanites sometimes require a, well, firmer hoof. You of all ponies should know that."

I took a large bite of the sandwich. "I keep thinking there's something else behind Digs' anger. I hope she's actually investigating whether her mother was telling the truth or not."

"I think you read her correctly, Candy. In fact, you seem to have an uncanny ability for that sort of thing now."

I hesitated calling it a possible talent. I didn't want to set myself up for disappointment if I failed. I wasn't even sure what I should do next. Go over to Rosey's hotel? At first I hadn't minded how far away it was, but I couldn't keep shuttling back and forth. I had to get them together somehow.

Maybe the community theater was the key? That sparked the question I had been dreading to ask. "So what's up with the theater now?"

To my relief, Mom smiled, if only faintly. "We're trying a new approach. We thought perhaps we had attempted too much. Applejack is now building a replacement stage, but vastly scaled down."

"How long is that going to take her?"

"She thinks she can be done before sundown."

So that's how long I had to figure this out. We would be heading home in the morning. Maybe inviting Rosey to the theater was the right thing to do, but I had to finish this dress first.

I sighed. "I better get back to this."

"All right, dear, but please don't neglect your lunch."

"I'll try not to, Mom."

Mom nodded and left.

I forced myself to at least finish the sandwich, and then just picked at the salad now and then as I returned my attention to the dress. I had only the final stitches to do. Objectively, it was as good as any skilled seamstress could produce, even if not as elegant as I would have liked.

Both Mom and Coco passed my little work area several times without disturbing me, though I did catch Mom giving me a slightly disapproving look when she saw I had finished only half the salad. Did Digs really just throw up her hooves? Was my feeling that she still cared for her mother just so much wishful thinking?

God, if my birth mother had turned herself around, I would've loved her even more than ever. Maybe that's what had frustrated me about Digs; at least her mother was still alive.

I applied the last of the stitches. My gaze roamed over my work, trying to find anything I could have done better. I levitated the dress carefully and turned it around. The patch was obvious, but it was better than the ugly tear that it had replaced.

The front bell tinkled. I glanced at the clock. Coco had said she wanted to do a dress rehearsal with the Method Mares in the afternoon in her apartment, so she was likely gone. I set the dress back on the ponyquin and headed to the front. I nearly did a double-take when I saw who was standing there. "Rosey??"

Rosey smiled softly. "Hello, Candy."

"Um, hi," I said, somewhat dumbfounded. "What are you doing here?"

Rosey manipulated something tucked under her left wing until she could place it on the counter. My mouth dropped open. It was not just a flier for the theater but the flier, the one that had come loose from the wall earlier. I recognized the dog-eared corner that had first come loose.

"Would you believe, this came sailing into my window in my hotel room?" She chuckled. "It just about hit me full in the face."

Had I somehow done that? I tried not to think on it too hard, other than maybe I did have the right idea in trying to get them together.

"It reminded me of one of the last things I did with Digger before the wedding." Rosey glanced at the nearly complete stage outside. "I wanted to recapture at least one happy memory."

"I talked to Digs earlier," I said in a tentative voice. "She said you had her grow the flower."

Rosey nodded solemnly. "I did. I'm not at all proud of that."

"Rosey, I have to ask, why did you go on the bliss?"

Rosey gave me a faint, humorless smile. "You really do go to the heart of the matter." She sighed. "Maybe I should know what else Digger said about me."

Should I tell her about the accusations? The bitterness? No, she likely would expect all that. "She said you were a great flier when you were on the Manehattan weather team."

Rosey shook her head. "No, I was the best flier. Even as I aged, I could still push myself to do amazing things. Then ... Digger came along."

I tilted my head. "You weren't expecting to have a foal?"

Rosey smiled. "Oh, no, Candy, I wanted a foal. If I could handle Manehattan weather, I could handle motherhood." Her smile faded. "What I hadn't expected was to have an earth pony. Don't get me wrong, I loved her dearly and still do, but raising her was more of a challenge than I had expected."

My heart lurched. "Did you get any help?"

Rosey gave me a sad look. "Why would I? I was the amazing Rose Sunshine! I could do anything. Raising an earth pony would be just another challenge."

"I think my birth mother was like that, too," I said in a hesitant voice. "Running her business became a huge strain, and she refused help. She had to do it all herself, and sh-she destroyed herself in the end."

Rosey swallowed. "And you don't h-hate her? You don't hate me?"

My ears drew back. "What? No, not at all!" I paused. "Well ... concerning my birth mother, I think it was more I didn't let myself hate her. I channeled it into guilt instead."

"I'm not sure I follow," said Rosey.

"We had made nice memories together before it all fell apart. I didn't want to ruin it with hate, but that emotion had to go somewhere, so I turned it into guilt over not intervening when I saw what was going on."

"I'm so sorry you went through that," Rosey said in a quavering voice. "Did Digger tell you how she finally found out?"

"She mentioned briefly about investigating it."

Rosey gave me a wry smile. "She's downplaying it. Even though she didn't get her cutie mark until a year later, she had pretty much earned it then." She sighed. "Though I only got better after that at hiding my--"

The door burst open with such force that the bell above the door tore off and was flung against the opposite wall, startling us both. I flinched as I saw Digs standing there, her hooves splayed as if in a combat stance.

"D-Digger?" Rosey said in a small voice. "Are you all right?"

Digs ground her teeth so hard I could hear them from across the room. She stomped up to her mother. "I came here to tell Candy what I had found out. I had to know if you had lied again!"

Rosey's pupils shrank. "Lied about what?"

"Your accident, that's what!" Digs bellowed.

Rosey glanced at me before saying, "It wasn't a lie, Digger."

"I know! I would've preferred it if you had lied!"

Rosey frowned. "Why? So you'd have another reason to hate me?"

"Why didn't you tell me about it?!"

"I didn't know if ... I wasn't sure you'd even care."

Digs hesitated, and in that brief moment, I saw something flicker across her face that I had not expected. She took a ragged breath, and her expression hardened again. Now I wasn't quite sure if I had actually seen it, at least not yet.

"And if you did care, I ... I didn't want to worry you," said Rosey.

"Worry me? Worry me?!" Digs cried.

"I pulled through," Rosey said in a helpless voice.

"You were in a coma for two months!" Digs yelled. "A unicorn healer had to restart your heart three times! YOU ALMOST DIED!!"

Good God. I had no idea her accident had been that bad. No, Rosey was not a liar, but she was damn good at withholding the truth.

Tears welled up in Digs' eyes. "Y-you don't know when to stop, do you?!"

Rosey stared nonplussed at her daughter.

"First you resented having an earth pony as a daughter--"

"Please, Digger, that was for a very brief time, and I--"

"And then you turn to the bliss, and when I couldn't stop you doing that, you go and do this to yourself! What more am I going to have to take on?!"

And then the last piece fell into place.

Rosey gave her daughter a genuine look of confusion. "I don't understand."

"I do," I said.

Digs whipped her head towards me. "Oh, and what is it you understand, kid, huh?"

I took a deep breath and tried to keep my own tears at bay. All I could see when I looked at Digs was the pain she had been carrying for so long. "You don't hate your mother."

Digs' recoiled, drawing back a half step, tensing as if ready to bolt. "Wh-what ... why wouldn't I, for all the things she did to me?!"

"When you investigated your mother and found the truth, did you do anything about it?"

Digs frowned. "I confronted her. Big time."

"Did it help?"

Digs' lower lip quivered. "She ... she said ... she wanted to stop."

"But she didn't," I said.

Digs swallowed hard. She shook her head, her eyes misting further.

I hated doing this to her, but I had to make her see the truth. I could only imagine what my life would've been like if I had carried around something like this for so much longer than I had. "It wasn't enough."

Tears splashed to the floor. Digs sank to her haunches. "It was n-never enough. I never could get her to s-stop."

Rosey gasped softly, and her eyes glistened. She had just figured it out.

"You don't hate your mother," I said. "You ... you hate yourself because you couldn't stop her."

Digs didn't respond. Her tears were my answer.

"Oh, dear Celestia," Rosey said. "I ... I never knew ..."

I took a step towards Digs. "When my mother died, I didn't want to hate her, so I turned hate into guilt. You did the opposite. You turned guilt into hate."

Digs sobbed once and lifted a shaky fore-hoof to her face to wipe away tears. That was why she wanted the accident to be a lie. In her mind, Rosey's accident was her fault because she had failed to stop her mother from doing bliss. All I had to do was think back to how I felt after Michelle's death to know how guilt can completely tear a heart to shreds.

Rosey advanced a half-step towards her daughter. "Digger," she said in a solemn voice. "I have no words that can express my sorrow. I caused you far more pain than I ever realized I had."

I could sense that all Rosey wanted to do was rush forward and comfort her daughter, yet the divide still remained.

"J-just tell me the truth," Digs said in a shaky voice. "You did resent me. You resented how much I s-slowed you down because I wasn't a pegasus."

Rosey lowered her gaze. "Yes," she said in a very soft voice. "But when I said it was brief, and I got over it, I meant it."

Digs lifted her head and turned towards her mother, still sniffling. "But wasn't that when you started doing bliss?"

Rosey shook her head. "I didn't start that until the pressure became too great. I was raising you and trying to keep my career going at the same pace as before, and I foolishly refused help from anypony."

Digs' pupils shrank. "But ... n-no, you're lying again!"

"Digs, please listen to her!" I declared. "She's not lying!"

"She has to be!" Digs cried. "She started the bliss to deal with her resentment over me! It's my -- I-I mean, if only I knew back then, I could've tried harder, I could've--"

"Digs, stop it!" I shouted, startling her. "Stop trying to justify your guilt! Get this through your thick skull: your mother's bliss addiction is NOT YOUR FAULT!"

Digs stared at me for a long moment before her lips curled into a faint smirk. "Wow. When you want to make a point, Candy, you don't hold back."

I shrugged. "I was raised in a big city. What do you expect?"

"Candy is right, Digger," said Rosey. "Nopony else is to blame for what I did. If you're going to hate me, then hate me, but don't destroy yourself in the process. You deserve so much better than that."

Digs shook her head and wiped her eyes. "I don't want to hate. I don't want the guilt. I mean, yeah, I'm mad as all Tartarus that you did this! I mean, what you were thinkin', huh?!"

"That's the problem," said Rosey. "I wasn't. Not clearly, anyway."

"Maybe ... maybe I once did have a real reason to hate you," Digs said in a low voice. She craned her neck and looked at her own flank. "I got my cutie mark after yet again investigating how you lied to me about going off the bliss when I stopped growing it for you, when I found your supplier. I felt like my cutie mark was tainted somehow, especially since it still didn't stop you."

Rosey's ears drooped.

Digs turned her eyes back to her mother. "But I ... I don't feel that way anymore. I love what I do. I'm the best darn reporter the Manehattan Daily News has ever seen."

Rosey smiled. "I know. I've read every article you've ever written."

Digs stared. "Wait, what?"

"The clerks at the News must think it strange that they have a subscriber in Baltimare, especially since I used an assumed name."

Digs gasped. "That was you?!"

Rosey took a step towards her daughter. "Digger, I can't express in words just how proud I am of you. If I could go back in time and counsel myself, it wouldn't be to get myself off the bliss, but to stop me from ever resenting you in the first place."

Digs swallowed, her eyes tearing up again.

"You've grown up to be a wonderful, intelligent, and responsible mare, far better than your mother ever was."

Before Digs could reply, the door opened, and Applejack poked her head in. "Everythin' okay in here?"

"Yeah, it's fine now," I said.

"Jus' heard a bit o' hootin' an' hollerin' earlier. I woulda come over but I was in the middle of somethin'."

Digs turned her head away long enough to wipe her eyes. "That was mostly me," she said in a subdued voice. "Sorry about that."

I glanced past Applejack. "Oh, are you almost done with the stage?"

Applejack smiled. "Yep. Still got a few things ta do, but since it was gettin' late, I was gonna fetch the others an' have 'em get ready ta go."

"They're all up in Coco's apartment."

"Thank ye kindly. We'll be startin' soon if ya wanna take a gander yerself."

I smiled. "Thanks."

Applejack tipped her hat and left.

Digs watched her go before taking a deep breath and turning back to her mother. "Just tell me one thing. Why did you come here? What did you hope to accomplish?"

Rosey smiled faintly. "I guess what we're doing now. Except, now I understand that it ... it never would've worked if I had tried it my way. Not when I didn't understand how you were really hurting. H-how much I really had hurt you."

Digs snorted. "And just how did you expect you'd sneak into the ceremony unnoticed?"

Rosey blushed. "Well ... I had a disguise that I--"

Digs face-hoofed. "Seriously, Mom? You were going to try to pull that with your investigative reporter daughter?"

I smiled, and I saw a brief twinkle in Rosey's eyes. We both heard it: Digs had referred to her mother as "Mom" for the first time since they started talking again. "It's like I said, Digger," said Rosey, still blushing. "Sometimes I just don't think."

Digs exchanged a glance with me, then looked back at her mother. "So, um ... now what?"

"That's up to you," said Rosey. "I realize now I can't just come trotting back into your life and expect you to accept me. I'm not going to ask for forgiveness. I'm not even sure I've forgiven myself yet."

Digs bit her lower lip. "I can't lie to you, Mom. I can't get rid of all these feelings at the clop of a hoof." She glanced at Rosey's right wing and sighed. "I still feel responsible for your accident. Your career--"

"--means nothing if I have to sacrifice ever seeing you again," Rosey declared.

Digs blinked and stared. "I ... I never thought I'd hear you ever say something like that and sound like you mean it."

"Digger, it never should've taken an accident to make me realize what's really important," said Rosey. "But I'm done lamenting over it. I just want it to mean something. It's turned my life around, and if nothing else, I'll have that." She paused and glanced out the window. "I guess ... I guess I hoped to have a little more."

Digs opened her mouth but no words came forth. I could understand what she was feeling. I wouldn't know what to say, either. She finally looked out the window as well. "Huh, look at that. They actually pulled it off."

I stepped forward. The curtains on the stage had just pulled back, and the play was starting.

Rosey nodded. "A little scaled down, but, still, the costumes are gorgeous."

As we looked, a pony trotting by glanced at the stage, stopped, and sat down to watch.

Digs smiled. "Remember the community theater back in the old days, Mom?"

"I do," said Rosey softly as another pony joined the impromptu audience. "We almost never missed it."

"Even when we were sore at each other. We always kinda put that to the side for a while."

Rosey smiled. "I got my whole weather wing interested in it. They liked it so much, they pitched in every year to help with the setup and ensure the weather was sunny that day."

Digs grinned. "Remember when I got one of my teachers at high school to do a field trip to the theater?"

"Yes, I do!" Rosey gushed. "And Charity Kindheart was so grateful you all showed up because the pony pox was going around, and she lost half her volunteers when they got sick!"

Digs laughed. "One of my filly friends even subbed for an actress. She went on to get a cutie mark in theater performance like three months later!"

Rosey took a deep breath, her eyes glistening as an earth pony mare and her pegasus child stopped to watch the play. "Digger? How about we go and watch? For old times' sake?"

Digs slowly smiled. "Sure, let's go."

I smiled as they headed out the door.





By the time the sun disappeared behind the skyline, the theater had drawn a rather large audience, so much so that I had lost sight of Digs and Rosey. I hung back outside the shop, more interested in pony-watching than the play. I smiled as the play concluded and Coco was hoisted onto the stage to accept the praise for bringing this all together, a spotlight she immediately shared with Mom and Applejack.

When I saw Coco scanning the crowd again, I realized she might be looking for me. I ducked back inside the shop. As much as I would have liked her show of appreciation, I really didn't want to be standing in front of everypony.

As the crowd broke up, many ponies lingering in groups happily chatting with one another, I finally spotted Digs and Rosey, heading towards the shop. I ducked into the back, smiling as I heard their mutual laughter burst forth as they stepped inside. I carefully levitated the wedding dress from the ponyquin and trotted towards the front.

"I wish we could do that every day," said Rosey. "If only so we can spend more time together without ... without the pain."

"Yeah, I know," Digs said softly as I stepped behind the counter. "It's hard to feel anything bad when you're just enjoying something like that."

Rosey sighed. "I so wish--" She stopped short as her gaze spotted me. "Oh! Digger, your dress!"

Digs spun around. "Luna's moon, I had almost forgotten about it."

I laid the dress on the counter and turned the patched area towards them. "I did the best I could."

Digs stepped forward and stared at the repaired area. Rosey joined her, speaking softly. "Digger, I'm so very sorry that happened. I know how much that dress means to you."

Digs took a deep breath and turned to face her mother. "Yes, it does, and I can't begin to describe how hurt I was. It still hurts."

Rosey swallowed but said nothing, gazing at her daughter with as much hope as worry.

"It's what I said before, Mom. It won't go away overnight. But now ... now I want it to go away. And I-I can't do that if you go away again."

Rosey gasped. "Digger ... does this mean ...?"

Digs' lips curled into a tremulous smile. "Can you move back to Manehattan? Look, I can't promise this will be easy. Expect a lot of yelling and tears on my part as I work past all this."

"I already know it's not going to be easy," said Rosey in a quavering voice. "I'm not looking for easy, I just want a chance. I'll have to head back to Baltimare to do something with the house, though."

Digs glanced at the wedding dress. "Can you stay in town for a few more days?"

"Why?"

"How else are you going to attend my wedding do-over?"

Rosey smiled. "Digger, thank you so very much!" Her eyes teared up. "I love you, Digger."

Digs threw herself at Rosey and embraced her. "I l-love you, too, Mom."

My horn blazed.

The wedding dress rose, wrapped in sparkling magic as it slowly spun in place, billowing out as if fit to an unseen pony. Energy drew itself into thin tendrils as they wove themselves into the patched area of the dress like glowing threads, moving with a precision that suddenly no longer seemed out of my grasp, as if I were somehow subconsciously orchestrating it. As Digs and Rosey watched in open-mouthed astonishment, the dress was not so much woven back together as healed. A final wave of magic spread through the entire weave, and the cloth brightened subtly in hue before gently lying back down on the counter. The glow, both around the dress and my horn, faded.

Digs' pupils shrank as she rushed up to the counter and delicately picked up the dress in her fore-hooves. "It's ... it's perfect!"

Rosey smiled.

"I-I don't mean just the repair!" cried Digs. "It's like it's brand new! Candy, h-how ... what ...??"

I smiled and wiped a tear from my eye as I stepped out from behind the counter. "I did say I had a knack for it." When she just stared at me, I giggled. "This may be hard to explain, but I think you two did it, and I was just sort of the catalyst. And it means you were both sincere in what you just said to each other."

I had a feeling love was the trigger, but I had to see it for myself. I had to experience it, and it was the most beautiful thing I had ever felt.

Digs surged towards me and hugged me so fiercely I almost couldn't breathe. "Candy, th-thank you. Thank you for getting through my thick skull what I was really feeling."

My smile widened as Rosey came to me next, embracing me almost as tightly, "And thank you for giving me another chance with my daughter."

Digs turned to Rosey. "Mom? You maybe want to come over to my place for dinner?"

Rosey broke off the embrace with me and smiled at Digs. "I would love to."

They headed out together. No sooner had they left when Coco stepped inside, her face a mask of astonishment. "Candy, that ... that was amazing! I never thought I'd see the day they reconciled!"

I blushed. "They're not quite reconciled yet, but I think they have a good start."

Coco smiled and trotted up to me. "Still, I'm really going to miss seeing you head back to Ponyville tomorrow."

"Why's that?"

Coco chuckled. "You mean besides you being a fantastic seamstress? Because there's so many more stories like Digs and Rosey."

I tilted my head. "What do you mean?"

Coco stepped towards the window and looked out. "I don't know what it is, whether it's the city in general, or Manehattan in particular, but it just seems to make ponies more stressed, more apt to say things they don't mean, or do things they know will hurt those they love. That's one of the reasons I so wanted to put on this theater. It really helped bring a sense of community to at least this little part of the city."

I stood next to her and spotted Mom and Applejack. Despite their distance, there was no mistaking the telltale glow of their cutie marks. I glanced at my own flank, but I already knew what I would see: still blank.

Coco glanced at me. "Is something wrong?"

So many stories remain unheard / So many hearts remain sundered.

"No, not really," I said softy. "I just need to think hard about something."

The sense of disappointment over no cutie mark never came because there was yet one more piece of the puzzle. I actually knew what it was, but I had to be sure. I stood at the point of no return. As much as I had to gain, I still had something to lose, something I had only realized then how hard it was to give up.

Listen to your heart, Rachel, and don't doubt where it leads you ...

... and your heart is where acceptance truly lies.

I wanted to listen. I knew I had to listen. But I needed to return to Ponyville first. I had to be sure I wanted to do this.

Coco touched a hoof to my shoulder. "Can I help?"

I turned towards her and smiled. "Yes, actually, you can ..."