Sour Apple

by adchild

Chapter 3

Grandma Bartlett was old. She was all of fifty five. She had two children. Four brothers, and two sisters. But she was never too busy to see me and welcome me in her one-story brick house up the hill from us.

When my mother and father had wed, she'd given them the lower part of her lot so that our two houses looked like one compound. When my Ma first married, she was taken over by running a home and often sought help from her mother. And then my Pa was away a lot, visiting different parts of Equestria for business or to visit friends and family. When we needed help on the farm, she'd send people to help.

She kept a close eye on us, too, after Ma's death, eventually letting us keep my ma's old things, which belongs to us now. I know she didn't approve of Dahlia. And, while she didn't encourage us in our dislike for her, she didn't discourage us, either.

"Applejack, come in, come in." She held open her hooves and I quickly went into them, hugging her slender form tightly.

"Child, child, what is it? Is she plaguing you again?"

"She said I'll never be a strong mare." I drew back and wiped my eyes. "She's always after me, like a fox after a bluebird."

"How are the others faring?"

"She's mean to us all. But mostly to me. She does it on the sly, so Pa doesn't hear or know."

"Of course she does. Here, would you like some tea?" I said yes, and before long we were sitting at the dinner table in her kitchen and I was feeling better. I looked around the room. "Why can't I live here with you?" I asked for what was like the twentieth time.

"Because your Pa needs you."

I gave a bitter laugh. "Pa? Needs me?"

"Yes. He needs all of you." She poured tea out of a silver pot she'd once told me had been made by Chancellor Puddinghead and handed down in her family. "Did you ever think how it would hurt him if you left?"

I hadn't.

"Besides, you are strong. I wouldn't have you in my house if you weren't."

"She said it takes seven generations to make a strong mare"

"Then tell her about your great grandfather Pyrus Nivalis' wife, Jade, who was living in a stockade in Coltucky when she wove her wedding dress from the weeds and wild flax that were the only material she had. She may not have had Frills and Ruffles, but she was a strong woman."

I listened intently. Once Grandma Bartlett started on family Legends, she never stopped. But if you paid mind to her, at least she wouldn't go on forever.

"Will you come and visit us sometime?" I asked her when I left.

"I don't go down there anymore," she said. "Not since my daughter died. She's welcome to come and pay her respects to me anytime she wishes. Now remember what I told you. Tell her about grandmother Jade and the woven wedding dress."

She hugged me when I left and pressed a few bits into my hoof. "Buy yourself a little something," she murmured into my ear.

My spirit soared when I left her.

-

By late spring Rarity arrived with all the ceremony of a princess. The carriage bearing her was drawn by two horses and included a hoofcolt who put down the step with a flourish of a bow. Out stepped Rarity, holding a frou-frou of a kitten.

I'd wanted a pet since Mama died but Pa had said no. Rarity intended to let this kitten not only live in the house but sleep in her bed. And Pa was fine with it.

Everyone greeted Rarity with the good wishes they usually saved for important ponies who stopped in Ponyville on their way to Manefort. She was done up in fine feathers too showy for our town. All Ruffles and bows and golden be-ribboned curls under a velvet hat.

She came with four more suitcases of clothing. I hated her on sight. The only thing that kept me from jumping on her and pulling her mane was that she was a guest.

-

"My room at home is bigger than this. But at least this isn't as bad as I expected."

"What did you expect, a wooden shack surrounded by timberwolves?"

She raised her muzzle. She was pretty. I had to give her that. "No. My mama told me you-all weren't that bad off." She plumped herself down on the bed and set the kitten, Opal, on the floor. I thought of my father's hunting dogs out back in the pen and how I'd always wanted a dog for a house pet.

"What do you do around here?" She asked.

"What ponies do anywhere. There's lots to do." I found myself defending Ponyville.

"Is your daddy an important stallion?"

"No."

She eyed me unblinkingly. "My grandmother used to rule society in Manefort."

We sat, each on a bed, facing each other. I swung my hoof. "I'm going to have a puppy one of these days. My Pa says so."

"Will you let me play with it?"

"If you behave."

She reached down and lifted Opal on her lap and hugged her close. "I didn't want to come here. My mama made me come."
Rarity set Opal back down, slipped off the bed, and offered her hoof, just like a stallion would. I took it and we shook hooves. "I don't always act like this," she said. "I was just so scared when I got here. Will you be my friend?"

We shook on that, too.