The Position Has Been Filled
The face in the doorway was one she had seen a lot lately, but also never before.
Bleary, bloodshot eyes stared back into her own. A young mare, younger than herself, had answered her knocking.
“Yes?” she spoke finally, her voice low and quiet.
“I’m…here about your ad?” she responded, her own voice not much better off. “I hope I’m at the right place.”
“No this…” she sighed deeply, reaching up and tucking an errant strand of her mane out of her face. “This is the place. C’mon in.”
The room was cold, nopony seemed to have been attending the fireplace in quite a while. The young mare seemed to have been sleeping here, if the nest of blankets were anything to go by.
“So, this isn’t really anything I can haggle about, even if I wanted to…” she sat opposite the young mare, rubbing at her eyes. “Normally I’d be a little pickier considering, but if you can do the job, we’ll need you to start as soon as you can.”
She knew the job, and she’d been prepared to start as soon as she’d accepted the position. These kinds of things usually couldn’t wait on pleasantries or trial periods.
“Of course. Where are they?”
The room she was lead to was bright and cheery, in its decoration at least. The old mare holding the swaddled foal looked just as miserable as her granddaughter had, and when their eyes met she blinked away her tears.
“Thank Celestia…” she sighed, her voice barely above a whisper. “I knew somepony would answer that darned ad…”
She looked down at the bundled foal, her little face sleeping soundly. Her bright red mane poked out from under the blanket and deep down, Rosemary felt something stir.
Hate.
“Give her here…” she pushed down every bitter feeling and carefully laid on her side, the plush blankets under her a small comfort to her aching body. It protested against her, it had been three whole days since she’d had a proper rest. Just sporadic naps here and there. The elderly mare unwrapped and laid the foal at her side, and Rosemary tried not to look too closely at either of them.
When the foal finally found her mark, there was a sob of relief from the younger mare, her face buried in her hooves as she was comforted by her grandmare. They both held each other, and Rosemary found herself unable to look at anypony in the room. She focused on the steady beat of her own heart for as long as she could.
“We’ve been doing our best…one of the cows was kind enough to help but she’s still got her own calf to think of. And little Apple Bloom won’t touch formula.” The elderly pony rasped out. “She’s hardly gaining any weight…thank you. Thank you so much, miss.”
Rosemary couldn’t bring herself to respond. She didn’t want to be here. This house…this family. Every second she spent here was another stab into her heart.
But life had led her here in her darkest hour and it seemed the only way to keep herself afloat. She made herself look at the tiny little foal pressed up against her.
It’s not your fault. She told the foal in her head. You aren’t the cause of any of this.
“Miss?”
She blinked, remembering the other ponies in the room.
“Rosemary.” She told them.
“Miss Rosemary…We really hate to impose, but…would you be able to stay a bit longer?” The older mare asked, and she could see the desperation on her face. “We don’t have anything to keep her fed until morning.”
She laid there, trying to remember if she had anything she’d needed to do. The hours had begun to blend together, and the thick fog was only starting to retreat from her mind.
Had she remembered to pay for another night at the inn? Did she even have the bits?
Her bag was still there.
“…I don’t have anywhere to be.” She was pretty sure of that. “It’s a bit of a walk back to the inn for my things. Can you wait until then?”
They talked amongst themselves for a moment, Rosemary wasn’t an eavesdropper, so she turned her attention back to the foal. She really was too small…Not enough to be worrying, but all the books she had read on foal development said that at her age she should have a bit more baby fat.
“Miss Rosemary, we know this is a sudden offer…” the younger mare stepped closer, looking down at the foal with a flicker of warmth in her sad eyes. “But we really need you. Please…please, can we offer you the spare bedroom? I know the ad didn’t say anything about being a…live-in wet nurse but…”
She really didn’t want to. To be in this home with a new foal…
But it wasn’t the happy home she had dreaded on the way from the inn. There was a hurt here, and it wasn’t hard to guess what had caused it. Not many ponies outside of nobility hired wet nurses anymore. The ad had basically come out of nowhere, and she’d unfortunately been in just the right position to answer it. With her last job having fallen through and hardly any bits to her name, she forced herself to come to this place.
She could use a warm bed and a roof over her head. Not to mention a decent meal.
“I can eat here too?” she asked, hopeful. The younger mare looked confused for a split second. But she nodded with an “Of course.”
It was for the best.
She was escorted to the inn by another member of the family, still younger than herself but not by much. He was quiet, and he had the same sadness in his eyes as the others. She guessed that they thought she’d need help carrying luggage, or maybe it was just the polite thing to do. So, he seemed surprised at her single, light bag.
He might’ve also been surprised at something else.
But if he had his concerns, he didn’t voice them. He just walked alongside her back to the farm, surrounded by that sad silence that seemed to strangle them both.
After a couple of late-night feedings, Rosemary was called down for breakfast. The mare and the stallion were absent, off to do some work to prepare for the incoming winter. The older mare seemed to debate whether or not she should stay and keep her company. But she had a determined look in her eye. A look Rosemary wasn’t fond of.
“With all the fuss we really didn’t ask any questions.” She finally spoke up. “That was irresponsible of us. But you’re in luck, young miss. We ain’t really in a position to send you off should we dislike you. Not that we expect to, mind you.”
She knew the questions would come eventually.
“You’ll be with us for a few months, maybe longer. So ain’t no point in dancing around any unpleasantness.” She sighed, steeling herself. “Might not be something you want to hear. But honesty is gonna be our savin’ grace here, Miss Rosemary.”
She was too numb to really let this get to her. But she wasn’t looking forward to her time to share.
“My son and daughter-in-law…They were only supposed to be gone for a day, maybe two. Took a train up to Manehattan to celebrate their anniversary. Buttercup…she didn’t want to leave little Apple Bloom when she was so tiny…But I convinced them to go. They deserved to have a good time, and they hadn’t had a proper date in Celestia knows how long…The train never even made it to the city. Some kind of mechanical error, it derailed…They said it was a miracle that as many ponies survived as they did…”
She could tell that this statement held little comfort to the elderly mare. She wiped at her eyes, turning her attention back to Rosemary.
“So, we found ourselves with a fussy little filly and nopony who could feed her. Not a lot of foals get born this close to winter. And the nearest Apple expectin’ is clear out in Applewood, and she ain’t due for another month. So…we’re lucky. In this one way, we lucked out. Thank you.”
She knew she had questions. And if she had tried to ask even a week ago, Rosemary might not have been able to handle them. But now? Now she was so deep in the fog that surrounded her, anything could go right or wrong and she would barely even notice.
“…I was a waitress. A little Mom and Pop type diner a few towns over. They were kind to me. When I told them I’d need time off because of…” she gestured to her stomach, not meeting the mare’s eyes. “…they said the job would be waiting for me after I’d delivered.”
She missed those two. They were the closest thing to a family she’d had in years.
“While I was out…There was a fire. Nopony got hurt but the older couple couldn’t rebuild. They were going to retire a bit early to their daughter’s place in Vanhoover, spend more time with the grandfoals. So I was out of a job, hardly any bits, and…”
She didn’t even know how to say it anymore. But she must have shown something on the outside she didn’t mean to. Granny Smith stepped towards her, noticing that outside of the usual bit of pudge that came after carrying a foal to term, their new houseguest had the barest hint of visible ribs. The older mare reached out to comfort her, a hoof over hers.
As if sensing the mood, the foal was crying from her bassinet in the next room. She was almost ashamed at how fast she got up from the table.
The feeling she’d tried so hard to push down exploded back into her chest as she held the tiny foal. But the anger was at herself now.
Why? Why are you even here? Are you that desperate to prove yourself? A horrible voice deep inside her scolded. Trying to prove that you would’ve been a good mother?
“Hey there, baby.” She spoke softly, trying not to tear up. “I know…It’s breakfast already. Where has the time gone? Everything’s fine…don’t cry.”
She got to feeding the foal, and her grandmare stepped into the room, and she turned to her with what she hoped was a comforting smile.
“We’re fine in here. No more tears, right baby?”
She felt a pair of hooves wrap around her head, an open and caring gesture she hadn’t been expecting. She couldn’t stop the dam from bursting, all the pent-up grief and devastation she’d been holding in erupted all at once.
“Hush now…” the older mare soothed her, her own voice hitching. “No more tears.”
The months went by, winter came and went, and little Apple Bloom was getting bigger and stronger. Rosemary had to admit to how much she enjoyed the Apple Family’s company.
The Apple Family were grateful for Rosemary, not just for the job she applied for. Once spring rolled around she was a big help in the home while the oldest grandfoals worked the farm. She hadn’t applied to be a nanny, but Granny Smith did appreciate the help with Apple Bloom while everypony was still healing.
Applejack had to admit, having Rosemary as a guest had made the mourning period a little easier. Once they had found out about her own loss, it was an oddly comforting thing. Having somepony around who knew what they were going through made everything less stiff and nopony had to pretend to be fine if they weren’t. Suddenly, the notion that she had to push everything down and keep a brave face for her family’s sake seemed just wrong. When they talked, and cried, and laughed together, things seemed just a little bit better.
Apples pride themselves on their good ol’ fashioned, down-home, three square meals a day. But cooking took a lot of energy that nopony seemed to have, and sitting down to meals was the hardest thing, now that two seats at the table were empty. But Rosemary seemed to thrive when she poured all of her excess energy into preparing meals, and everything was so good that nopony wanted to skip them.
They all sat down to a nice dinner, and everypony was in good spirits for once. Apple Bloom sat in the high chair between Applejack and Rosemary, babbling away in her baby talk. She hadn’t been fed yet, but she was beginning to show signs of getting fussy.
“Aw, what’s the matter little sister?” Applejack laughed, knowing full well what she wanted. She was given to Rosemary who placed her on her back and began to make her way to the living room for a quick feeding.
Apple Bloom reached her little forelegs around Rosemary’s neck, laughing and babbling away.
“Aww, is Apple Bloom a happy baby today?” she laughed.
“Buh ba ba…ma!” she laughed along with her. “Ma! Mmmmm…Mama!”
The room went still, and the only sound was Apple Bloom’s baby talk. Over and over she just repeated that word. Rosemary was stiff, and nopony in the room could see her face.
“Mama! Ma ma ma mama ma!” she reached up to Rosemary’s ear, giving it a little tug. “Mama? Ma…”
“Hey…hey now…” Granny Smith finally broke the silence. “It’s fine. She doesn’t even know what those sounds mean yet.” Nopony was sure who she was trying to reassure until Rosemary spoke up.
“Take her.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. Applejack wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do, but she took her baby sister off of her friend’s back, noticing how tense she was.
Apple Bloom protested being separated from the mare she’d grown close to, calling out for her “mama” again. Rosemary’s shoulders began to shake.
Before anypony could react, Rosemary was out the door.
The sun had been down for hours when they finally found her. She was sitting by a small lake outside of Ponyville, just staring into the calm waters. Big Mac and Applejack approached calmly, not wanting to spook the distressed mare.
“Rosemary?” Applejack spoke to her, worried about her lack of a response. She didn’t seem to hear them. They got closer, and seeing her face, they looked at each other before sitting down beside her.
They had all cried together more than a few times in the long, cold winter. Grief had been what had brought them together in the first place. But as many times as they had felt each other’s pain, Rosemary had never spoken at length about her loss.
The siblings could tell it was eating away at her. Granny had told them the day after she’d shown up at their door that they were two of a kind. Mothers who had lost their foals, and that was a certain kind of pain that couldn’t be put into words.
“I did everything right.”
Her voice struggled to escape, muddled with tears and pain.
“I read the baby books, I took classes, I bought all the stuff. I found the most beautiful crib, the sales pony told me how lucky my baby was. Lucky!” she laughed, her voice hoarse. “The doctor said she was going to be a little pegasus. And I was so scared that I’d never be the kind of mom she’d need, stuck on the ground. But I was going to try. I even learned how to take care of her wings. I was going to help her learn to fly!”
She stood, her legs shaking, and went to the edge of the water.
“The doctor kept telling me how it wasn’t my fault…there was nothing I could do. Sometimes…sometimes babies just…never get a chance to live. One of the nurses!” her voice got angry suddenly, and she kicked the ground hard, sending chunks of dirt into the lake. “She had the nerve! The nerve to tell me that she was in a better place!”
The ripples spread out across the lake and the three of them watched them go.
“What about here!? With me!?” she shouted across the water. “What was wrong with me!? I would’ve loved her! I do love her! I…I never even got to say goodbye!” She let out a forced, harsh laugh, choking on the cold night air. “I never even got to say hello!”
She let out an angry, guttural scream from deep in her chest, and it echoed out into the empty night. She let the sound of it fade away before she collapsed to her side, her body wracked with sobs. The siblings went to her again, Applejack putting the mare’s head in her lap.
“I j-just…” she said between gasping sobs. “…when I got out of the hospital…I kept seeing them…everywhere! Happy mothers and their p-perfect little foals. And I…I hated them. But I hated the pity more! The looks on their faces when I had these…these!!” she gestured down her body. “These swollen b-bucking teats!! And no foal to show for it! That’s half the reason I took this job! So they’d s-stop…hurting so bad!”
She stopped to breathe, her gasps devolving into sobs again. Applejack ran a hoof through her mane, doing her best to soothe her. Big Mac and his big, tender heart had surrendered to his own tears by then.
She tried to find another job, but after the first few rejections her misery-addled brain told her she wasn’t good enough to be useful to anypony. She couldn’t afford her place after long. She remembered the long, chilled nights, sleeping wherever she could. The places she would order whatever cheap food she could, mostly just to get out of the cold.
These ponies didn’t even know how much their kindness had meant to her.
“I can’t leave Apple Bloom yet…but I felt…so ashamed. She called me…that. And for just a moment…I let myself feel happy.” She wiped at her eyes. “But I’m not a mama…”
Applejack thought to herself for a moment, hoping her words would reach the mare.
“What were you going to name her?”
The question hung in the air, and she finally responded with fresh tears.
“She was gonna be…my little Skylark.”
“It’s okay to let yourself be happy.” She sighed. “Because you are a mama. You’re Skylark’s mama. Just like I’m still their daughter, and he’s their son. We lose ponies…but we never lose what they meant to us.”
“She’s right.” Big Mac nodded, already saying more words than Rosemary had heard all winter. “Might not be Apple Bloom’s mama…” he mulled over his next words, looking to his sister and seeing her feel the same as him. “Could still be an Apple.”
That was all Rosemary could handle. She broke down, and the three of them sat by the lake on that quiet night.
Apple Bloom was coming home from school that day, the cool fall air already getting her excited for the great holidays coming up. She was pretty sure of her Nightmare Night costume already, but her thoughts were interrupted when she heard her family’s laughter from up the path to the farm. What could’ve been so interesting as to pull her siblings away from applebuckin’ right smack in the middle of the harvest?
She spotted a fourth pony amongst them, but she didn’t recognize her right away. It wasn’t until the pony turned around that she started making a run for them.
“Hey!!” she ran up, practically slamming into the pony with a hug, laughing. “Cousin Rosemary! What’re you doin’ here!?”
“Hey there!!” the mare squeezed back just as hard, laughing. “Why, this can’t be little Apple Bloom! Last time I saw her she was just a little filly! And she certainly didn’t have a cutie mark!”
“O’ course it’s me!” she pouted, trying not to smile. She slyly turned to her side, showing it off, just a bit. “You like it?”
“Of course I do!” she smiled. “You’ll have to tell me the whole story.”
“Cousin Rosemary came by to show us her…well, you’ll see him once you get inside.” Applejack hugged their cousin again, chuckling. Apple Bloom had already picked up on the not-so-subtle meaning and hugged Rosemary again.
“Ya brought me a cousin!” She danced on her hooves, grinning ear to ear. “You came all the way here, we could’ve come and visited you in Manehattan!”
“Ennope.” Big Mac shook his head.
“He’s right.” Granny Smith told her. “They’re gonna stay with us for a bit. We figured the new foal can use your old crib and such, since it’s a…special occasion, I suppose.”
“My old baby stuff?” Apple Bloom didn’t see her cousin Rosemary as the type for hoof-me-downs. She had the money, owning that restaurant up in Manehattan. “What kind of special occasion?”
“Well…” her cousin mulled it over, shrugging. “It’s not every day your milk sibling is born and comes to stay with you.”
“What’s a milk sibling?” Apple Bloom was getting more and more confused. “I thought we were cousins?” The older ponies laughed, confusing her even more.
“We never told you that story, did we?” Applejack laughed, leading everypony inside. “Well…Just keep in mind that family comes in a lot of forms Apple Bloom. First, come meet the baby!”
Apple Bloom was puzzled but shrugged it off. Family was here to visit! And a new Apple was always a reason to celebrate!
She wondered if there would be cake.
Author's Note
Hey! I wrote a sad story for no reason, seemingly just to make myself feel bad. But once I had it in my head, I had to write it. It's not every day I get an idea for a one shot.
I named the pony Rosemary before I knew some of these facts, but they synced up very nicely. And Skylark was chosen on a whim, and once I saw that description, I knew I had to go with it.
"Although you may not have noticed, rosemary does grow a small purple or white flower towards the end of wintertime and because of this, the herb has become associated with its own symbolic floral meaning. Love, lust, memory and mourning can all be argued as strong themes attached to the plant."
"Rosemary springs have long been thrown into open graves to show respect for the dead, and to tell them that they will not be forgotten."
"An old saying has it, “Where Rosemary grows, the woman rules.” It was said that Rosemary would only flourish in a garden where the lady of the house wore the pants." (I thought this one was funny)
"The skylark is a symbol of the joyous spirit of the divine; it cannot be understood by ordinary, empirical methods. The poet, longing to be a skylark, muses that the bird has never experienced the disappointments and disillusionments of human life, including the diminishment of passion."
