Preggy Pie

Be sure to give feedback as usual! I'm not too sure about this one.

Chapter Five

You didn't realize it at the time, but planning for a party after Pinkie had given up her life as a party planner meant you'd have to buy supplies. And boy, did Pinkie buy supplies. She's burned through a couple hundred bits so far, and she won't tell you what she's buying, either. She says she'll have it all set up the day of the party, and that you should just wait and be surprised. That's fine with you, but you don't think she realizes she's spending the money you were going to use for the foal's room. After last night, however, you figure she's earned it.

Today is a Sunday, meaning you don't have to work. Instead, you spend the day helping Pinkie prepare for the party, although her instructions are pretty vague. The only thing she's told you so far is to “Get a cake ready, but be sure it isn't apple.” Apparently that's too predictable. Being a baker, though, you have too much experience with cakes to just choose one. There are subtle nuances to what makes a cake good, and picking one at random would be like telling a stage musician to go into a music store and just “pick out an instrument”. It would take hours to decide.

It's a hot day out, about 98 degrees, and you go out wearing a black collared shirt and a nice pair of jeans made by Rarity. She tells you they used to be her husband's, but it doesn't show. They fit perfectly and look fantastic. After wearing the same clothes for work nearly every day, this is a nice change of pace.

On Sundays, Sugar Cube Corner sells the cakes and pastries prepared on previous days, so no one is working the kitchen. Instead, only one pony is working, Mr. Cake, who seems a little out of his element. It's usually his wife working the counter, but after what Pinkie has been telling you, you aren't surprised to see him in her stead. He greets you and notices your wife isn't present.

“Is Pinkie staying home today?” he asks.

You relay to him the extent of your knowledge of what Pinkie is doing at the moment, then explain her request.

Mr. Cake frowns in thought. “Just a cake? That's too vague...”

“That's what I thought,” you tell him.

He puts his hooves together and leans on the counter, considering your options. He sighs. “My wife usually sells the cakes; I just bake them. I suppose we'll need to ask her. Hold on...” He walks up the small set of stairs leading to their room. A minute or so passes until you can hear a faint conversation which gradually gets louder.

“He just wants to know. You didn't have to get out of bed.”

“I'm fine, honey. It's good for me to get some exercise...”

“The doctor told you not to. Please, go back to sleep.”

“But honey, this is for Pinkie. I wouldn't want her to be disappointed.”

“Please, just rest. At least until your session tomorrow. I can take care of this...”

You feel a small part of yourself sink as you see Mrs. Cake descend the stairs. Her hair has become more gray, and parts of it are thinning. She has tired eyes. She's thinner than you remember. She's clearly having trouble walking; but Pinkie was right. She hasn't stopped smiling.

“Hello, dear. How is Pinkie doing?” she asks, trotting behind the counter. She voice possesses a subtle shakiness, though it's still sweet and mostly the same.

You force a smile and answer with a simple 'good'. You glance at Mr. Cake and notice him watching his wife in concern. You can only guess this isn't the first time this has happened. Mrs. Cake cares too much about the ponies in Ponyville to stay away when they visit. She's like a mother to everyone. Especially Pinkie.

“So, you need a birthday cake? Knowing Applejack, she wouldn't want something elaborate. She's a very practical pony. Nothing too bright; perhaps something with an earthy tone.”

Mr. Cake quickly throws out an option. “A carrot cake? It's my specialty, and I could get it done on my own fast.”

His wife chuckles. “That's alright, dear. I can help you--”

“Go to bed,” he says sternly, raising his voice and cutting her off.

The ensuing silence is painful. The silent exchange between them is like nothing you have ever seen. Mrs. Cake's eyes widen just barely as she gazes at her husband. Her mouth opens slightly, as though she wants to say something, but no words come out. She looks surprised. Afraid, almost. For just a second, you notice Mr. Cake's expression change to one of regret, but he doesn't say a word, knowing his decision is for the best. You've never seen him raise his voice to his wife, and from the looks of it, she hasn't either.

The corners of Mrs. Cake's mouth quiver as she attempts to smile. “Yes...you're right. I should rest.” She looks at you and nods her head. “Tell Pinkie I say hello.” She trots back to her room, her visage now heavy with dismay. You don't know what to say, or whether you should even say anything.

“Come back in two and a half hours,” Mr. Cake says to you, sighing and averting his eyes. “It will be ready then.” He keeps his gaze locked on the floor, refusing to look you in the eye.

You hesitate briefly before asking if anything is wrong.

He stares at the floor, debating whether to answer. Finally, he responds, “Nothing. Nothing is wrong. The cake will be ready at one.”

With that, he walks into the kitchen.

When you get home, you find several large cardboard boxes sitting by the front door. You enter the house and call for Pinkie, letting her know her packages have arrived. She bounces to the door eagerly. Being able to throw a party again has been good for her.

“I'm so excited!” she giggles. She turns and grins at you. “Just wait and see! This will be the best party I've ever thrown. Did you get the cake?”

You nod. “It's going to be a carrot cake; it will be ready at one.” You decide against telling her what happened at Sugar Cube Corner.

“Oh, that's a good choice! Carrot cake is super yummy; it doesn't feel like you're eating carrots at all.”

You chuckle and give her a kiss. She's just so cute. It's been a while since you've seen her act so filly-like. You try to push today's events to the back of your mind. You can't worry too much about the Cakes. They're doing fine. They can handle things on their own.

...But it's not possible. You just can't forget that look in Mrs. Cake's eye when her husband told her to leave. You wish you could side with her, but at the same time, you could see how hard it was for Mr. Cake as well. He wanted her to rest for her own good. He mentioned a session...what kind of session? Therapy? Chemo? You don't even know what kind of sickness she has. You can only imagine how Pinkie feels.

You remember one of the reasons humans first tried making contact with Equestria was to trade with them for medicine. Equestria was the only country with magical creatures, so they were able to create miracle cures while humans were struggling to find scientific methods of medicine production. Your father was an ambassador, so he constantly communicated with the Equestrian government, searching for possible ways to pay the ponies for giving the humans medicine. The humans figured the ponies would be quicker at finding cures for things like heart disease and cancer, and getting a hold of them could mean saving millions of lives. Unfortunately, ponies viewed humans as selfish, warring creatures and refused to trade with them.

Your father went on trips to Canterlot often to discuss political matters with the Equestrian government. Since you were young, you went with him most of the time. The ponies didn't mind human children in their country; they felt that a child couldn't do any harm to Equestrian society. Your father, on the other hand, they were suspicious of; only a few humans lived in Equestria, and most of them were there for political reasons. You found this sad. You had been to Canterlot so many times, you had grown attached to it. You wished you could live with the ponies, coexisting peacefully without fear of discrimination. So you prepared to immigrate as you grew older, studying Equestrian government and customs in hopes of changing their views on humans. You were committed, and even started an Equestria Appreciation Club in high school that received over twenty active members. Then, you blazed through college, putting your all into studies so you could find a decent job in Equestria once you got there.

Finally, the time came for you to immigrate. It was more painful than you had ever imagined. You spent hours filling out forms ensuring you weren't a human terrorist. You took several long, involved tests regarding Equestrian history and culture. Then, you waited a full year, during which you worked overtime for the expenses of your new home. When your friends found out you were moving, many of them left you. It wasn't until that point you realized how bad relations were between your country and Equestria, but that didn't stop you. Finally, one year after the process began, you were an official dual citizen. You arrived in Equestria with nothing but a suitcase and 18 hours' worth of jet lag, but you were ready.

You found your first job at a bank. The manager was kind enough to hire you, but you soon realized that ponies didn't like entrusting their money to a human. In fact, the ponies didn't like trusting you with anything. You were no longer a child. You were an adult human male with a major in Equestrian Politics. You were scum to them. They didn't want you anymore.

You spent two long, emotionally grueling months in Canterlot before deciding to leave. However, you weren't going to give up. You decided you would move somewhere else where the ponies were less judgmental. More friendly. More humble. And that's when you heard the name of a small town, Ponyville, mentioned in passing by a dressed-up mare depositing a check. She was speaking to her husband, and she referred to it as a 'town for the underwhelming', but that sounded perfect for you. If Canterlot ponies hated it, odds were you would love it.

Getting there was the toughest part. You had no investments to your name. You were lucky to get an apartment, but Canterlot apartments burned your finances like none other. You just barely had enough to move, but as you found out from a fellow teller, they didn't have apartments in Ponyville, only homes, meaning you would have to take on a mortgage. It was a risky move, especially since you had just graduated college and had student loans to pay off.

You kept reminding yourself this was for the good of humanity. It was for the good of pony kind, too. It was to end racism and show that humans and ponies were equal. So you took the biggest chance of your relatively short life and bought a house. You thought that you might find a wife someday (though with the human population it was unlikely), so you were sure to get one big enough for two people.

As you were moving the boxes from your apartment into your new home, you witnessed something amazing. Something unheard of. Something that gave you hope. It was a purple-maned pony walking beside a human, conversing with him openly. She was even smiling. Just when you thought it couldn't get any better, you saw the human lean down and give her a kiss. A kiss! She returned it, too; it wasn't one-sided. Then you noticed her slightly swelled abdomen and realized she was pregnant.

At the time, all you had were questions. Was the baby his? If it was, would it be part-pony, part-human? Were they married? You had forgotten to check for a ring...but in the end, it didn't matter. You knew that whoever he was, he was accepted, meaning you could be, too.

You hear Pinkie's voice and snap back into the present, just like before.

“Sweetie? Are you okay?” she asks, nuzzling your side. You look down and pet her reassuringly. She frowns mildly. “No, really. Are you okay?”

“I'm fine,” you answer. You just have a lot on your mind. You were just reminded today that despite all the magic in Equestria, some things can't be healed yet.

“Good. I was worried. Now then...” She walks outside and presses her hooves hard onto the top of the first box, cracking the tape and splitting it. She peers inside before whipping her head in your direction. “They got the color wrong!” she huffs. “I told them auburn, not brown...”

You can't help but smirk. “Is there a difference?”

She gasps. “Of course there's a difference! Saying auburn is like brown is like saying an orange is like a grapefruit! They're totally different!”

You laugh. “But an orange and a grapefruit are pretty similar! They just taste different.”

Pinkie stomps her hooves on the ground. “You know what I mean! We have to send them back. We can't take any chances!”

She's acting so much like Rarity right now. Maybe her pregnancy hormones are kicking in. You haven't seen her act out yet, though, so that's a good sign. “Do you want to take a break?” you ask. “You can go meet with somepony and I can take over. I don't mind.”

Pinkie thinks about it. She does need a break; she's been away from her friends for a while now. She nods. “Okay.” She smiles and gets up, setting her hooves on your chest and giving you a kiss. “Just try to organize the boxes and set aside anything that doesn't match the list on the counter.”  She gestures to a piece of paper resting on the island in the kitchen. “But don't look inside any of them! Just look at the labels.” She gets back onto the ground and says goodbye before walking out.

You look at the first box and set it aside, knowing that somehow, it's wrong. You end up pushing down one of the cardboard flaps, needing to peek. It looks like a box of plastic tablecloths...no, regular tablecloths. Brown. You don't know why making it auburn would make a difference, though.

You remind yourself not to look again as you get to the next one. You can't break Pinkie's trust. As she always says, breaking somepony's trust is the fastest way to lose a friend forever. You think that a husband would get a few more chances than just a regular friend, but you decide not to take any. You lift the second box and grunt. What's in this box, bricks? Still, you don't look. You set it next to the previous one. The label reads “PLMNT STGS 00124”. Perfect. That totally helps you know where to put it. Maybe you'll just arrange them by weight...

Your phone vibrates. It must be your job. Why are they calling you on a Sunday? You pull it out of your pocket and see the name 'Jonathan' on the caller I.D. You answer it right away.

“Hey, Jonathan!” you say with a grin. “What's going on? I haven't seen you in ages.”

“Hey! I'm doing good,” he responds with a laugh. “Man, you sound different. Maybe it's just your voice on the phone. Of course, I haven't heard you in a year...”

“More than a year,” you say. “Not since I first moved to Canterlot. How's everything?”

“Can't complain. I'm just calling to let you know I'm visiting Equestria in two days and was wondering if you wanted to get together.”

Oh, right, Jonathan would be going on his first Canterlot trip soon. If you were still pursuing your political career, you would be going around this time, too. Jonathan was one of your roommates in college; you shared the same major. “That sounds great!” you respond, grinning. “I can introduce you to my wife and...”

“Your wife?” he interrupts, followed by a laugh. “I never thought you'd get married! What's she like?”

“Was that an insult? Anyway, yeah, she's great. She's...” You pause as you remember that no one from home knows you married a pony. “She's beautiful. Sweet, considerate, funny...one-of-a-kind. You'll love her.”

“Can't wait. It's so crazy you met another human in Equestria...”

You can't think of a proper response for that. “Hey, I need to go. I'll call you later, alright? Take care.” You hang up. You start to feel something akin to disappointment. Are you ashamed to have married a pony? You hope not. That would break Pinkie's heart.

You return to the task at-hand, but you worry about your friend's impression of your new life. Pinkie has already gone through the shock of her family finding out. Your family still doesn't know. You suppose this will be your first real challenge.