It’s amazing what a difference a whole new day can make.

It’s the day following the rather eventful Derby race. The weather is perfect for such a day, so there’s no fear of it being postponed further. As you expected, the spa is once again closed for the redo of the Derby. You therefore decide that you may as well attend this one as well. As much of a spectacle as the previous day’s race was, it will be nice to see it done properly, without any hijacking from older ponies trying to relive their foalhoods.

You even bring some cookies with you again, just on the off-chance that somepony feels in the mood for a therapy session afterwards. Yesterday proved how likely that chance can be, after all, even if it’s not a guarantee. You do wonder if maybe you ought to expand your baking repertoire a little for future sessions. Not everypony has a preference for cookies, after all, and you want to make sure you’re providing for the comforts of any potential client. What else can you bake, then? Muffins? Cupcakes? You might have to ask Pinkie Pie for her opinion on the matter.

In any case, with your treats in tow, you return to the part of town where ponies are gathering to watch the Derby. As you make your way along to find a comfortable and suitable place to watch the race, you look about at the participating fillies making their preparations. You can already tell that much has changed for the better. Not only are the carts that were caught up in the big crash mended and looking as good as new, but the three Crusaders have completely brand-new carts for this race.

You can see Scootaloo with a very flashy vehicle that brings Rarity’s from yesterday to mind, only this one is in the likeness of a fiery phoenix instead of a swan. Sweetie Belle has a vintage buggy much like the one Applejack was piloting yesterday, painted green with lace trimmings and a silk-curtained canopy roof. Last, but not least, Apple Bloom has a sleek and aerodynamic racer that looks like it borrowed some design aspects from Rainbow Dash’s, except that hers has apple-themed wheels and a spoiler at the rear like a leafy apple stem. You remember what each of the three had said about how they had initially wanted to design their carts, and you’re happy to see that the events of yesterday have helped their older sisters to see reason and help them build the carts as intended.

Speaking of the older sisters, you can see them standing beside the new carts, wearing jumpsuits and caps, spotted with dirt and oil. They look tired, which isn’t surprising, considering these are the second carts they’ve built in two days, but they also look satisfied. Seeing their sisters happy with their remade carts seems to have made the work worth it, and made them think better of their behavior. You can’t help but wonder, however, what they intend to do afterwards, now that Cheerilee has instituted a rule that only the foals can participate in the race.

You finally find a spot where you can see without blocking anypony else’s view and take a seat. Being taller than the average pony is on all fours, the last thing you want is to be obstructing an earthbound pony’s line of sight for an event like this. You’d had enough comments about your height thrown your way while walking the streets of Manehattan. ‘How’s the weather up there’ had been among the nicest of those.

Cheerilee now calls all of the racers to the starting line, and it makes a big change from yesterday seeing only the colts and fillies piloting them, without their adult copilots. Apart from Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo, you recognize two other foals among the racers. One of them is Snips, a stout, buck-toothed blue colt with rather bushy eyebrows, piloting a cart that looks like a red-and-white striped barber shop pole. The other is Diamond Tiara, the Rich family’s daughter, in a cart resembling a red sedan with headlights resembling real diamonds (and which may be real diamonds). You don’t recognize the other foals participating by name, but you still admire the ingenuity and creativity in their cart designs, though you’re puzzled by one that looks like a large cube of unpainted wood, and wonder if that was intentional.

At Cheerilee’s signal, the racers are off, causing a cheer to erupt from the crowd, and you can’t help but lend your own voice to the tumult, urging the racers on. You see Apple Bloom take an early lead, but Scootaloo’s not far behind, with Diamond Tiara in a close third. At the rear of the pack, Sweetie Belle’s cart chugs along at an easy pace.

Everypony seems to be in high spirits, kid and adult alike. You look back to where Applejack, Rarity, and Rainbow Dash had been standing, but they aren’t there anymore. You look about, wondering where they’ve gone off to. You can only assume they’ve gone to change out of their mechanic’s clothes and wash up before watching the Derby themselves. That’s not surprising, especially for Rarity, and you can’t help but commend her sisterly love for Sweetie Belle for allowing her to get filthy and remain so for this long.

“Come on, Diamond Tiara! Go for it!’

That cheer came quite close at hand. Looking to your right, you can see a filly bouncing up and down in place, looking excited. You recognize her as Silver Spoon, Diamond Tiara’s friend and a classmate of the Crusaders. She has a gray coat, a silver mane and tail streaked with white, the former styled into a long braid in the back, purple eyes, and a cutie mark depicting her namesake. She wears a pair of blue-framed glasses, as well as a pearl necklace around her neck.

It doesn’t surprise you that she’s friends with a wealthy family’s foal like Diamond Tiara. Like Diamond, Silver Spoon’s general appearance gives off an impression of having everything she’s ever wanted handed to her on a silver platter, or, to be more accurate, being born with a silver spoon in her mouth. You didn’t know her and Diamond Tiara from before you’d moved to Ponyville, but you had heard stories, typically gossip from Daisy, Lily and Rose, of how snobby and superior the two foals used to act, not just among ponies their own age, but even to certain grown-up ponies, though their favorite targets of bullying had been the Cutie Mark Crusaders before they earned their cutie marks. Your talk with Spoiled Rich certainly explained a few things about that, if she was openly encouraged to act like she was better than everypony else, and all but told to specifically target Apple Bloom and her two friends just for not earning their cutie marks yet. You’ve seen plenty of foals in Manehattan, especially those in the rougher parts of the city, who will give ‘blank-flanked’ ponies a hard time for not having their marks yet.

As the two of you happen to be sharing a spot to watch the race, you decide to make yourself neighborly.

“Hello, Silver Spoon.”

Silver Spoon stops in her hopping and looks up at you. She doesn’t seem to have noticed you were there.

“Oh, hi!” she says, smiling. “Are you here to watch the race?”

“Well, I’ve got nowhere else to be with the spa closed again,” you say, “and after seeing how yesterday turned out, I wanted to see how differently things would be with a do-over.”

“You saw that too, huh?” asks Silver Spoon, wincing a little. “What a disaster. I was so worried for Diamond Tiara and Randolph when they had that big crash, but luckily everypony was okay.”

“Yeah, thank goodness,” you say. “Who’s Randolph, by the way?”

“Diamond Tiara’s butler,” says Silver Spoon. “He helped her build her cart, and she wanted him to ride in the Derby with her.”

“Well, that was sweet of her,” you say.

It doesn’t surprise you that Diamond Tiara has a butler. She probably lives in a mansion full of servants that tend to her and her parents’ every whim. As you just said, however, it’s incredibly sweet that Diamond Tiara would want to share an event like this with one of her family’s servants, though you wonder if such a thing would have happened if she had still been a bully.

“I thought it was too,” says Silver Spoon. “Can you believe it, though? All of that happened just because Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo’s sisters wanted to get involved? I mean, I know the Derby’s a big deal, but I didn’t know it was that big a deal for older ponies.”

“I know,” you say. “It’s crazy what nostalgia can do to somebody, but I wish it didn’t have to result in so much collateral damage.”

“Tell me about it,” says Silver Spoon. “Ooh! Ooh! Here they come again!”

She perks up as the Derby racers roar into view again. Apple Bloom’s still in the lead, but Scootaloo and Diamond Tiara aren’t far behind, vying for second. Meanwhile, you can see Sweetie Belle still chugging along, looking utterly at ease. Silver cheers for Diamond Tiara once more as she passes.

“GO, SCOOTALOO! WHOO-WHOO-WHOO-WHOO!”

You look in the direction of that exceptionally loud whooping, and spy, in the distance, Applejack, Rarity, and Rainbow Dash, divested of their mechanics’ gear, reclining in beach chairs and wearing sunglasses. You see Rainbow sitting up with her hoof raised in the air, and giving a sheepish glance at her two friends, who are both wearing knowing smiles. She seems embarrassed to have let herself get carried away in her enthusiasm.

“Guess this Derby really does bring out the wild and crazy in ponies,” you say.

Silver Spoon giggles. Then, after a pause, she says,

“Oh! You said you were here because the spa’s closed today, right?”

“That’s right,” you say. “I didn’t realize I’d be taking two days off during my first week there.”

“And you’re doing…what’s it called? Affection therapy?”

“Yes, that’s right,” you say. “Why do you ask?”

“It’s just that Diamond Tiara’s mom was at the spa earlier this week,” says Silver Spoon. “She said she was interested in learning more about the new kind of therapy they were advertising, and I think it was called affection therapy. She also said the spa had hired a human as the therapist, and, well, you’re the only human we ever see in Ponyville.”

“Guess there’s no denying that,” you say, modestly.

“Well, ever since Mrs. Rich had her spa day, she’s been acting…kind of funny.”

How can you forget? That had been one of your most unexpectedly emotional sessions yet, and it had all started because Spoiled Rich had initially booked the appointment to give you what she considered ‘good advice’ about what you were doing as an affection therapist. You also remember what Rose had said about Spoiled giving her daughter an unexpected hug in public, and the reactions of both Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon when it happened.

“Funny?” you ask.

“Yeah,” says Silver Spoon. “It’s like she’s trying to be…nicer. She gave Diamond Tiara a hug out of nowhere after her spa appointment, and Diamond tells me she’s trying to smile more, and she doesn’t scold her or order around like she used to.”

“Well, that isn’t such a bad thing, is it?” you ask.

“Well, no,” says Silver Spoon, “but it’s kind of weird for her to suddenly change like that out of nowhere. Diamond likes that her mom’s trying to be better, like she’s been working to be, but it’s also kind of…awkward.”

You can see Silver Spoon’s point. Someone who has a reputation, even among their own family, of being stuck-up, cold, and emotionally distant suddenly showing more interest in anyone other than themselves, and showing a more positive attitude in general, must be a disconcerting change. One might even wonder if there wasn’t something else going on, or some ulterior motive at play. You can only hope that Spoiled Rich doesn’t become discouraged and lose whatever progress she’s already been making.

The two of you sit in silence for a while, watching as the Derby racers zoom by in their carts. Well, silence until you cheer them on, that is, but the conversation you had been having is put on hold for the time. That is, until Silver Spoon starts it back up again.

“Affection therapy must really be amazing if it can make a change in someone like Mrs. Rich,” she says.

“Well,” you say, humbly, “I can’t really speak for the experiences of individual clients, of course. As a therapist, even an, er, unusual one, I have to maintain client confidentiality.”

“Oh, I know,” says Silver Spoon. “Both of my parents are doctors, and they can’t talk about stuff about their patients around other ponies either.”

Well, that’s interesting to learn. Come to think of it, you can’t recall if you’ve ever seen Silver Spoon with her family. You only ever see her in Diamond Tiara’s company. Perhaps their hospital work keeps them busy most of the day.

As if she’d read your thoughts, Silver Spoon adds,

“Of course, I don’t get to see my parents much during the day, unless it’s the weekend. They’re usually pretty busy, and they’re not normally home until dinner.”

“Oh,” you say. “I see.”

“I mean, I know what they do is important,” she adds, hastily, “and they’re helping a lot of ponies. And they’re always happy to see me when they’re done with work. It’s just…it’d be nice to have them around more.”

She trails off, looking away. You wonder if she feels she said too much.

Poor Silver Spoon. You’d known so little about her already, and now, here you are, presented with the sad truth that she’s the child of two busy and successful ponies who, you sincerely hope, regret not being able to spend more time with their daughter, but their schedules are too demanding. No wonder you only see her with Diamond Tiara.

There’s another pause. Then, Silver Spoon asks,

“Is affection therapy just for adult ponies?”

You look down at her. She’s gazing up at you with innocent curiosity, and perhaps a bit of hopefulness as well. Is she asking what you think she is?

“Oh, no,” you say, shaking your head. “Affection therapy’s for anypony who feels they need it.”

Silver Spoon ponders this for a moment or two. Then, she says,

“Do you think I could try it? After the Derby?”

She is asking what you think she is.

“Of course you can,” you say, smiling, “if you’d like to give it a try.”

“I think I would,” says Silver Spoon, smiling back. “And maybe I could see if Diamond Tiara would be interested, too. She’ll probably be pretty tired from all that Derby driving.”

“She’s more than welcome to give it a try too,” you say, brightly. “Come to think of it, how long is this race supposed to go?” you add, as the thought strikes you. “I don’t remember hearing how many laps there were.”

“And the winner of the Speed Competition is…Apple Bloom! In second place is Scootaloo, and in third, Diamond Tiara!”

Cheerilee’s voice rings out loud and clear, and the crowd erupts into cheers and stamping applause. You and Silver Spoon both look to the finish line, and you see Apple Bloom standing up in her seat in her cart, waving to the crowd with a beaming smile on her face. The other racers have pulled up in their own carts. Scootaloo doesn’t look disappointed at all to have come in second, and even Diamond Tiara looks pretty pleased for coming in third. You can see Applejack, Rarity, and Rainbow Dash celebrating from their lawn chairs, and Silver Spoon is hopping eagerly again, cheering for her best friend.

“Well, guess that answered my question,” you say, bemusedly.

***

As the Crusaders had told you, the Speed Competition is only one part of the Derby. The carts also get judged on which showcases the most stylish or traditional looks, and as Diamond Tiara has also entered her cart to be judged on stylishness, her participation in the Derby hasn’t finished yet, so you and Silver Spoon still have a bit of waiting to do.

To your delight, and to Rainbow Dash’s, Scootaloo winds up with 1st place for the Most Stylish Cart, with Diamond Tiara coming second. As for the Best Traditional Cart, Sweetie Belle takes 1st prize, and you can hear Rarity’s loud, ecstatic cries of ‘that’s my little sister!’ You beam with pride as you see the three Crusaders rejoin their older sisters, holding their blue ribbons as they receive big congratulatory hugs, and then all of the Derby participants gather for photos.

All in all, this race was a marked improvement from yesterday’s. It makes you wish you’d taken part in something like this when you were a kid.

“Thank you, everypony,” says Cheerilee, addressing the crowd at large, “for helping make this Applewood Derby possible. In spite of a few hiccups along the way-”

Here, Applejack, Rarity, and Rainbow Dash look sheepish, even though Cheerilee didn’t single them out.

“-this do-over race turned out far better than I could have imagined. All of our young racers should feel very proud of what they’ve accomplished, and I hope to see that same level of spirit and dedication the next time the Derby rolls around. Thank you once again, and have a wonderful rest of your day!”

This short speech is met with unanimous applause, and the crowd begins to disperse, talking animatedly amongst themselves. Most of the racers have rejoined their families, and the three Crusaders are already walking away with their big sisters, clutching their blue ribbons like precious treasures. All six catch sight of you as they pass and wave, and you return the gesture, giving the Crusaders a double thumbs-up, whereupon they hold their ribbons aloft with gleeful smiles.

“I’m glad they got to win,” says Silver Spoon, who’s still standing beside you. “They’re the ones who suffered the worst of it yesterday, so I think they deserved this, even if I would’ve liked Diamond Tiara to win.”

“That’s very kind of you to say, Silver Spoon,” you say. “I’m sure they’d be very happy to hear that.”

“There you are, Silvy!”

You both look up. Diamond Tiara comes running up to meet Silver Spoon. She’s removed her helmet, and her namesake headwear is perched on her mane. She has a pink coat, a purple mane and tail streaked with white, her tail and the back of her mane both being wavy, blue eyes, and a cutie mark resembling, in exact shape and detail, the tiara she wears. She’s about the same size as Silver Spoon, but somewhat rounder in figure, like Sweetie Belle. This could very well be an indication of good living, which one might very well expect from having a wealthy and well-to-do family.

She’s not alone, however. An elderly stallion is making his slow way towards you. He has a purple coat, a wispy, cloud-like white mane and tail, the latter of which is only a small puff, blue eyes, and very bushy eyebrows. His immaculate black vest, white shirt, and ribbon bow tie give him the distinctly dignified appearance, which, if this is the Randolph you’ve heard of, is a fitting wardrobe for someone employed as a butler.

“You did so good, Di!” gushes Silver Spoon.

“Thanks,” says Diamond Tiara. “I know I didn’t win, but hey, third place in the Speed competition and second place in Most Stylish isn’t bad. If anyone had to win, I’m happy it was the Crusaders, at least. After what happened yesterday, they earned it.”

“That’s just what I was saying,” says Silver Spoon.

“Great friends really do think alike, don’t they?” you ask, grinning.

Diamond Tiara only now seems to notice you standing there. She looks surprised, but not displeased. The elder pony bows his head in civil greeting towards you.

“Oh, hello,” says Diamond Tiara, pleasantly. “Were you watching the race with Silver Spoon?”

“I was,” you say. “You all did great out there, and your cart really looked spiffy.”

“Thank you,” says Diamond Tiara, smiling. “Daddy helped me draw up the blueprints, and Randolph helped me build it. I think it turned out really well.”

She turns to beam up at the elderly pony, who smiles fondly in return.

“You do this old servant too great a courtesy with such a compliment, young miss,” he says, speaking with a posh and dignified accent.

“Aren’t your parents here, Diamond Tiara?” you ask.

Diamond’s smile fades a little.

“They would’ve been here, but they were too busy,” she says. “That’s why Randolph is chaperoning me.”

Randolph nods.

“Oh, I see,” you say. “I’m sure Mr. and Mrs. Rich will be happy to know how well you did today.”

“My sentiments exactly, good sir,” says Randolph, approvingly.

“I’d like to hope so, even if I didn’t get first place,” says Diamond. “Daddy wouldn’t mind, but Mother…”

She hesitates, looking unsure.

“I…don’t know what Mother would say,” she says, in a puzzled voice. “Not now, anyway.”

Silver Spoon gives you a significant look. This is just like what she was talking about: Diamond Tiara being confused by her mother’s recent change in behavior. By the sound of it, she would have been expecting, at the very least, a scolding for not being the best of the best. Your talk with Spoiled is enough to confirm that, given what she said about the school election that Pipsqueak had won against her.

After pondering for a moment or two, Diamond looks up at you and says,

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

You kneel down so you’re on a better level with her.

“You do…what do you call it? Affection therapy?”

“That’s right.”

“And you’ve started working at the spa?”

“Yes.”

She pauses, looking as though she’s hesitant to ask anything further, but working up the nerve to ask anyway.

“Do you…have magic powers?”

You blink.

“Magic powers? What makes you think that?”

“Because…Mother went to try ‘affection therapy’ a couple days ago, and she came back all…different.”

Again, this lines up with what Silver Spoon has told you already, but you don’t want to say you’d already heard this before. There may be a chance she wouldn’t like knowing somepony, even her best friend, was talking about this sort of thing when she wasn’t around.

“Different?” you inquire.

“Well, yeah!” says Diamond. “I mean, I can’t remember the last time she hugged me when we weren’t in front of a big crowd, and she actually wanted to talk to me about my day! Like, how I was doing in school, and what I was planning to do for the Derby, and how she wished she could have taken time off to watch me!”

“And that’s unusual for you?” you ask.

“Well, kinda. She’s always pretty much done her own thing, and left me to do mine. The only time I’d ever seen her acting like, well, not like her usual self was when I finally stood up to her, when I was…tired of living the way she told me to.”

She falls quiet, her ears drooping, and her gaze turning downward. It seems like, even if it may have felt good for her at the time, she feels some guilt about talking back to her own parent, no matter how much she may have deserved it. Or perhaps she’s reflecting on what she had been like before that happened, even if you’ve never known her when she was the bully you’d heard she was.

“I see,” you say. “And you think this is the result of magic on my part?”

“I’m not saying I think you put a spell on her or anything!” says Diamond, hastily. “I just wondered…well, I wondered if your affection therapy stuff really could do that for somepony like…like my mother.”

There’s another pause. Silver Spoon has put her hoof around her friend’s shoulder sympathetically. Randolph remains stoically quiet, and you wonder if his position as butler has some stipulation of not speaking unless he’s being addressed, or else given permission to. Nevertheless, you can see a sympathetic look in his own eyes as he looks at the daughter of his employers.

“Well, Diamond Tiara,” you say, “you must understand that, though your mother did have a therapy session with me, I can’t say what went on during it.”

“I know,” says Diamond.

“What I will say, though, is that it sounds like your mother wants to change the way she’s been living, even if she hasn’t fully grasped how yet. It might seem a bit…awkward at first, but if she keeps at it, she may get more used to it, and it’ll feel more natural.”

This thought does seem to cheer Diamond up a bit.

“I guess so,” she says. “I mean, when I decided I didn’t want to push ponies around anymore, I didn’t think anypony would think I meant it, but they accepted my apologies better than I think I would’ve, if it had been me.”

She rubs her foreleg awkwardly with the other, looking at the ground.

“I’ve done some…pretty awful things in the past,” she says, quietly. “Even if Mother was the one teaching me how to act, I still chose to do what she said without questioning it. I knew my special talent was getting ponies to do what I wanted, but I didn’t know how that was supposed to be a good thing for anypony else. I only cared about how it benefited me. It took me too long to realize what I should have been doing, and I wasn’t expecting anypony to think I really deserved a second chance.”

“Me neither,” says Silver Spoon, looking up at you. “I always did what Diamond Tiara said we should do, and I never really questioned her. It felt like what we were doing was what everypony expected us to do, and we didn’t think we’d be forgiven so easily.”

“Especially not by the Crusaders,” Diamond adds, even quieter still, “not after the way we treated them, and they still wanted to help me...”

Now where have you heard this kind of talk before? Ponies who have done wrong in the past, wondering if they deserved a second chance? It’s not just the fact that you’ve heard somepony else speaking like this, but also that the ones saying it now are fillies. Still young, and yet already feeling guilty about their past actions. They really did sound sorry about the way they behaved, too.

“You shouldn’t talk like that, girls,” you say, gently. “I may not have known first-hoof what you used to be like, since I’ve only heard second-hoof accounts-”

“They probably weren’t too far off,” Diamond mutters.

“But from what I’ve heard,” you continue, as if she hadn’t spoken, “you still chose to make a change for the better, and you’re making the effort to improve and be better ponies. You chose to be a different pony from how your mother raised you to be, Diamond Tiara. That was your decision, and that’s as good a first step as any.”

Diamond Tiara looks up at you, and you see a hopeful expression in her eyes.

“You’ve said that you regret how you treated your classmates,” you go on, “and you’ve also said that you apologized to them, and they’ve accepted your apology, right?”

She nods.

“Well, that’s another good step,” you say. “It’s never too late for forgiveness, especially if you show that you’re willing to make a change and earn a second chance. I know it can be easy to feel down on yourself for past behavior. Forgiving others isn’t always easy at first, but what can be even harder is forgiving yourself.”

Diamond Tiara looks thoughtful at these words, as does Silver Spoon. Once more, even you can’t help but wonder what well of wisdom you’ve tapped into to have these speeches ready at the right time. It feels surprising, and yet, natural at the same time.

“I hope that all makes sense,” you say. “I know it’s a lot to think about.”

After a pause, she nods, and a small smile is on her face again, a smile mirrored by Silver Spoon.

“I think so,” she says. “I do want to be better, and I want to make up for the friendships I could’ve made long ago if I hadn’t…well, if I hadn’t been such a bully.”

“Me too,” says Silver Spoon.

“Good,” you say. “Now, Silver Spoon expressed interest in having an affection therapy session. Would you like to have one as well?”

Diamond looks surprised by this.

“An affection therapy session?” she asks. “Right now?”

“Only if you want to give it a try,” you say.

“What do you say, Di?” asks Silver Spoon. “I’m gonna give it a try. Why don’t we do it together?”

Diamond Tiara looks deep in undecided thought for a moment or two. Then, she turns to Randolph.

“If I do have some affection therapy, Randolph, you don’t mind waiting for me until we’re done, do you?”

“I am at your disposal, Miss Tiara,” says Randolph, inclining his head. “Whatever you choose to do, I shall not stand in the way. If you feel you wish to partake in this affection therapy practice, I give you my support, meager though it might be.”

“Thank you, Randolph,” says Diamond Tiara, and she turns back to you with a smile, saying, “I think I’ll give it a try.”

“Wonderful,” you say, smiling in turn.

You take a seat on the grass, and after a moment’s hesitation, the two fillies clamber up until they’re resting side by side in your lap, their hooves curled up in front of them, looking as adorably puppy-like as the Crusaders had been yesterday.

“So, how does it start?” asks Silver Spoon.

“However you like,” you say. “With some ear scratches or chin scratches or belly rubs.”

“Ooh, I want some ear scratches,” says Diamond Tiara, eagerly.

“Me too,” says Silver Spoon.

“Ear scratches it is,” you say.

“Oh, hang on a second,” says Silver Spoon.

She takes off her glasses and holds them up to Randolph.

“Randolph, would you mind?” she asks.

“Not at all, miss,” says Randolph, courteously, accepting the glasses.

“Now I’m ready,” says Silver Spoon, smiling up at you.

“Smart thinking,” you say. “All right, then, let’s begin.”

With one hand each, you cup their cheeks in your palms, and with your index and middle fingers, you start rubbing behind their ears. As you expect to see every time, you see the momentary look of surprise at the sensation, then bliss as the feeling sinks in. Their eyelids begin to droop, their mouths curling into sleepy smiles, and they start to nestle more cozily into the palms of your hands. Neither one says anything at first, but merely let out sighs of relaxed contentment.

After a time, you decide to try out something new this time around, even if you’re not sure how well it’ll work. You pause in your ear scratching, then swap hands over, so that your right hand is at Diamond Tiara’s right cheek, and your left hand at Silver Spoon’s left cheek, so you can give their opposite ears their fair share of scratching behind them. Doing a double ear scratch with your hands crossed over each other feels a bit cumbersome at first, but it seems to be doing the trick, as there’s no diminishment in their relaxed expressions, and they snuggle their cheeks into your palms once more. Adorable as this is, it also makes it harder to know when to relax this cross-armed pose, if they’re settling in so comfortably.

The things you do for ponies’ happiness…

Eventually, you start slowing down the scritching, easing up so that it doesn’t abruptly stop all at once. Then, you gradually move your hands away, so that Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon’s heads rest gently on your knees. Without saying a word, they tilt their heads back in unison, as if silently inviting you to start giving them chin scritches now. You can’t help but smile at the natural way of it, as if they have their own pampering routines and silently expect the commencement of the next treatment after the first one ends. You suppose that must come naturally to ponies who’ve been raised in luxury.

Obeying their silent requests, you start scritching under their chins, and their heads tilt back ever so slightly more, their eyes shutting tighter at the sensation, and their mouths curling into little smiles. It always reminds you of a cat receiving similar treatment, and you remember a stray cat who would frequently turn up outside your old apartment in Manehattan, after you’d moved out. In time, you’d gotten into the habit of getting treats for it when it came by, and it would let you pet it for a little while before deciding to wander off again. After a time, the cat stopped turning up, and you often wonder what happened to it. Hopefully it’s found a new home, like you have.

Gradually, you begin to slow down the chin scratching, and the two fillies lay back, looking peaceful. For a time, they simply lay there, making you wonder if they’ve fallen asleep. Then, Diamond Tiara slowly opens her eyes.

“Do you think I could have a belly rub now, please?” she asks, sleepily.

“Me too?” asks Silver Spoon, just as drowsily.

“Of course,” you say. “It’s your session, after all.”

You give them both a tap on their noses, making them giggle. For once, they don’t try to boop you in return. Maybe they’re too relaxed for it. In any case, you place one hand each on their bellies and start rubbing up and down, back and forth, in gentle circles. You hear, and even feel, that telltale hum of relaxed satisfaction, and they snuggle in deeper. Diamond Tiara does have a bigger belly than Silver Spoon, but not to the point where you’d call her fat, same as with Sweetie Belle. Again, you take it merely as a sign of being brought up wanting for nothing.

Nothing except the friends she didn’t know she’d wanted, and the love of a mother who only now was learning to express it…

You look down at Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon’s contented faces as you continue belly-rubbing, and you feel a pang off remorse in your heart as you remember how they had put themselves down for their past behavior, and how you’d heard of how they used to be, and even how Spoiled Rich herself had expected her daughter to treat others. Looking at their innocent, peaceful expressions, you wonder how two fillies like these could ever have been bullies before you moved here. They didn’t look capable of hurting a fly.

Of course, appearances can be deceiving. In the rougher parts of Manehattan, you’d seen well-dressed and respectable-looking ponies acting like complete snobs to plainer and more humble-looking ponies they brushed past in the street, while con artists and thieves were waiting to win you over with winning smiles before they picked your pockets. Not that you yourself had been robbed in such a way, but you’d seen it happen to ponies in the street, and had been unable to do anything about it. Moreover, you had looked up to Clay to be your father while you were away from your old home, and look how much he had disappointed your expectations. At least Olive and Spruce had been there for you.

And in thinking about your foster family again, you wonder if your letter has had time to get to them, and if they’ve had the chance to reply back. You haven’t really thought about how quick pegasus mail is from one city to another, considering the distance between Ponyville and Manehattan. And if it had gotten there by now, how soon would they write back? Would either of them even be home by the time it arrives? Would they even send a reply at all?

You give your head a shake. You can’t be thinking about those things now. You have other matters to focus on.

Your thoughts are interrupted with a jolt as you feel something on both your hands. Looking down, you see that both Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon have rested their hooves on your wrists in their sleepy states. You can feel your heart melting all over again, but you don’t stop belly rubbing. Belly rubs aren’t simply stopped by a melting of the heart.

***

At last, Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon both open their eyes drowsily. You begin slowing down the belly rubbing, gradually coming to a stop, then remove your hands. One after the other, the two foals sit up, stretch, and yawn.

“How do you feel?” you ask.

“Like I’ve never felt before,” says Diamond Tiara.

“I had no idea something so simple could be so relaxing,” says Silver Spoon.

“Well, you’re not the first to think that,” you say, smiling, “and I doubt you’ll be the last. I’m glad you both enjoyed it.”

“I really did,” says Diamond Tiara. “It’s just what I needed. Thank you.”

“Me too,” says Silver Spoon. “Thanks.”

At the same time, the two fillies put their arms around you as best they can, giving you a double hug.

“You’re welcome, girls,” you say, returning their hugs. “I’m happy to have helped.”

You release them, and as they hop back down onto the grass, and Randolph hands Silver Spoon her glasses back, their eyes fall on their plate of cookies you’d brought.

“Oh, right!” you say, clapping a hand to your forehead. “I completely forgot! I brought these just in case someone wanted a session. Please, take as many as you like.”

You take off the protective plastic wrapping and offer the plate to the two. Beaming, they each take a couple, munching on them with good appetites.

“Thanks!” they say, though somewhat muffled with full mouths.

“You’re welcome,” you say again. “Randolph, would you care for one?” you add, turning to Randolph, who’s remained as stoically silent as ever throughout the whole session.

“No thank you,” says Randolph, politely. “Very kind of you to offer. But,” he adds, in a quieter, kinder tone, “may I say, thank you, sir, for showing such kindness to Miss Tiara and Miss Silver Spoon.”

He places his hoof on his chest and bows respectfully.

“Shall we be off now, young misses?” he asks the two foals.

“Yes, Randolph,” says Diamond Tiara. “Goodbye!” she says to you.

“Bye!” says Silver Spoon.

“Take care,” you say.

With that, the old butler and the two fillies take their leave, and you start off for home again. Once again, it’s earlier than you would have normally been returning home if you had been coming back from a day working at the spa. You can only hope that your schedule is going to go back to normal by tomorrow, after these crazy couple of days. Not that you begrudge the chance you’d been given to help out some ponies in need of affection therapy outside the spa, of course.

As you approach your house, you see a familiar face hovering by the mailbox, shutting the metal lid.

“Hello, Derpy!” you call.

The mailmare looks up in delighted surprise.

“Hello!” she says. “You came back at just the right time! A letter’s arrived for you, express-mailed and all.”

You feel your heart give a leap.

“From Manehattan?” you ask, feeling a catch in your throat.

“That’s what it said on the envelope,” says Derpy.

Your heart gives another leap. You practically stumble to the mailbox and wrench it open, pulling out the letter inside. Derpy looks somewhat bemused by your behavior.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine,” you say.

“Were you expecting this letter today or something?”

“Yes,” you say, distractedly. “Well, no. I mean, I was hoping it’d come today, but I didn’t know if it would. I mean…Never mind. Thank you, Derpy. Please, have a cookie.”

You hold out the plate to her.

“Well, thank you!” she says, perking up. “Don’t mind if I do!”

She plucks a cookie off the plate with her wing and stuffs it into her mouth.

“Well, buh-bye,” she says, with her mouth full of cookie.

“See you, Derpy,” you say.

Derpy flies off, and you walk, weak-legged into the house, practically slamming the door behind you. You set the plate down and, with a madly-thumping heart, look at the address on the envelope. There’s your name and your address in Ponyville written in the middle, and in the upper corner, is written:

“Olive Branch
Manehattan”

Olive.

Your foster mother.

With fumbling fingers, you tear open the envelope, pull out the letter inside, and put the envelope aside. You unfold the letter, and read.

“Dear son,

How wonderful to hear from you again! I understand life must be pretty busy for you after moving out, and especially to Ponyville, so I don’t blame you for not writing in so long. We aren’t much better in that regard ourselves.

Your news came as quite a shock to us, let me tell you. A therapist! My foster son, a therapist, and one appointed and supported by Princess Twilight herself! I’m glad you explained what ‘affection therapy’ is, because I wouldn’t have had a clue otherwise. Making ponies happy through simple little gestures like that? I never would’ve thought of it. It sounds like you’ve been making quite a name for yourself down there, and I couldn’t be prouder of you.

There’s so much I’d like to tell you that simply couldn’t be done justice in a letter, and it would be so good to see you again anyway. We’ll be on the first Saturday train to Ponyville. That way, you won’t have to worry about missing a day of work.

See you soon!
Love,
Olive”

Author's Note

I know I said it in my blog post yesterday, but I can't apologize enough for how long it's been between this chapter and the last. I should have kept you all updated more frequently and at least show I was doing all right, even if I didn't have any updates on a new chapter itself. I'm sorry, and I hope you all can forgive me. I can't promise regular story updates, as inspiration to write comes and goes, but I will try not to let as huge a lapse as this happen again.

As for the chapter itself, when I decided to directly continue from the events of the last one, and have it take place during the redone race in The Cart Before the Ponies, I had an idea of who would be good candidates for receiving affection therapy this time, since it also follows up on Spoiled Rich's chapter. =)

Also, Silver Spoon's parents being doctors was inspired by her characterization in the MLP/Ace Attorney crossover, Elements of Justice, which I've been thoroughly enjoying so far.

As for the ending, I didn't want to keep you all hanging on this plot thread after so long, so I decided to keep it moving forward, and I'm of two minds about how the visit from the foster family will go. Either all three of them arrive to visit, or only Olive and Spruce will arrive, with Clay being absent for one reason or another. Do let me know what you'd like to see, and I hope you enjoyed this long overdue chapter.