9. ~ Char ~
CHAPTER 9
~ Char ~
A n hour later, back in my apartment, with my milkshake long gone and my mood much improved thanks to some time with James, I sat in the living room trying to sort out my thoughts.
Was I really James’s type? Did he actually want more serendipity in his life and not a routine-driven, stable, cozy marriage I’d assumed?
Felipe was a horrible listener, chattering at me until I showed him I had no more lunch leftovers, then abandoning me with my unfinished thoughts about Estelle to go curl up in his shoebox nest under my bed. I sat in the dark living room, wishing my roommates were home—at least one of them—so I wouldn’t be alone with the endless whirling of thoughts about James and fairy godmothers.
Fairy godmothers. Was I going to believe in the possibility or not?
Had my evening been real? Could it be that I was experiencing an intense fever and was hallucinating, or had slipped a mental cog and was now delusional? It would explain the way James had looked at me when he’d said the word ‘beautiful’ and also when he’d given me that meaningfully look when saying that skinny Swedish babes weren’t his type.
I’d already tried walking the line of grout in the tiled bathroom and hadn’t run into anything other than out of tile lines to test myself on. Now I placed a palm to my forehead. It felt about the right temperature. I covered one eye, then the other, to check my sight. That all seemed fine, too. Not very scientific testing, but nothing major was jumping out as a possible explanation. Therefore, my experience at Your Fairy Godmother’s offices was likely to have been real. But if I accepted the reality of Estelle and her magical, glitter-shooting world, I also had to accept that I was massively in debt. And that made me feel a bit nauseous.
Everything on that detailed invoice was too accurate to discard as a mere coincidence. She knew things I’d wished upon that I didn’t even want to admit to myself.
I sighed and dropped my head into my hands, doubting reality.
My phone beeped with a text.
My dad had replied to my earlier joke with a laughing emoji. I’d sent him an article about a 1900-year-old kiln that had been found in Corsica, which he’d ignored. He’d liked my joke about Athens, though. But who wouldn’t?
Why did people living in Athens have a tough time getting up in the morning?
Because Dawn was tough on Greece.
Dawn, the dish soap. Get it? Yeah, it was bad. But I had to stay connected to my dad somehow.
A key rattled in the door at the bottom of the stairs. Randy? He wasn’t allowed into our apartment without proper notice!
I quickly shut my room door, locking Felipe inside, and peered down the stairs.
“Hey,” Tamara said, hustling through the main-level door as was her habit so Randy couldn’t waylay her. The trick seldom worked. The man was half ninja. And not in a cool, sexy way. “Glad to see you didn’t get kidnapped.”
“What? Why would I have been kidnapped?”
“That scam. Didn’t you go past the address? You never texted back.”
Oh, right. Texting her and the girls about the invoice from Your Fairy Godmother felt like days ago. I’d been so rattled after the silver-black glitter rain I hadn’t even thought about jumping into the texting string to share an update.
“Sorry. I went for milkshakes with James right after.”
“He likes you.”
“As a friend.” I stepped aside to let her pass me at the top of the stairs. “What happened with you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You were supposed to go camping with your family all weekend. Family reunion thingy.”
She frowned at me as she hung up her coat on the rack between our bedroom doors. Our living room, kitchen and bathroom were on the street-facing side of the upper floor, and our bedrooms took up the back. “No. I told you I’m not going this year. I went out with Kade.”
“Kade?” Her stupid ex?
“He was in town for an appointment so we grabbed supper.” She tilted her head to one side in exasperation as she caught my expression. “Don’t make that face.”
“What face?” I ensured I properly schooled my expression and reopened my room door to return Felipe’s freedom. My feelings about Kade were well known. He’d broken up with my best friend for the stupidest reason. Basically, he’d wanted to try something different—in other words, Jannifer Bryant.
That had worked out nicely for me though. I got to have my bestie as my roommate. Although, Tamara still hadn’t embraced city living, and I worried that she was going to give up on her new city life with me if she was picking up with Kade again.
At least she hadn’t brought him home with her.
Still, I was certain she’d packed a bag earlier this morning, and had planned to be gone the entire weekend. Even Randy had mentioned her being away.
Wait. Had I accidentally made a wish? I clapped a hand over my mouth to stifle a gasp. I had! When I’d returned from meeting Estelle, I’d wistfully wished one of my roomies would come home so I could talk it out with someone.
Oh, this wishing business was dangerous.
No. It was a coincidence. Just like with James and his cancelled date. I couldn’t change the past with silly little wishes.
“What’s up? You seem weird,” Tamara said.
“Nothing,” I said quickly. Too quickly. She turned, her long purse strap half-lifted to hang on a hook.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I repeated, striving for a more casual air this time.
“You never say ‘nothing’ unless something’s wrong.”
“Just a weird day.” I flopped onto the couch, toying with a jagged line of cuticle, pressing it back.
“Every day is weird in your world.” She thought I brought home the strangest stories from my temp jobs. And sometimes I did, but she didn’t understand how much I loved the constant change that came with my job. It kept me from getting stuck in repetition, the years clicking by and blending together until one day I got up from in front of the TV and ran off like my mom had.
Tamara sat in the armchair and shucked off a cowboy boot. Then the second one, dropping it onto the floor with a thud that had likely annoyed Caleb, whose suite was below our living room.
“I think I’m losing my mind,” I said.
“That weird invoice?”
I nodded.
“Well, both you and the lady who came in today,” Tamara said, referring to the dental office where she worked. “There are way too many people with too much dough, staring in the mirror and plotting new ways to spend it.”
“Why? What happened?”
“This woman has a perfect set of chompers and she wants caps.”
“So?”
“She said her real teeth weren’t straight enough, big enough or white enough and that she wanted caps.”
“And?”
“Dr. Gris said she could have them!”
“So?” I picked up one of Tamara’s horse magazines and flipped through a few pages, relieved to be distracted from thinking about myself for a few minutes. “It’s her mouth.”
She slouched into the armchair. “We’re going to whittle down her perfectly good teeth and put on caps. It’s such a waste. It’s so…so vain .”
I laughed. “Welcome to the city. Want some Botox?”
She shot me a dark look. “Don’t even start.”
“A little lipo, maybe? Come on, highlights? A tattoo? Everyone’s doing it.”
She scowled. Her style was all-natural, and she was pretty enough with her brown eyes, matching wavy hair and a gentle spattering of freckles to pull it off. She looked like Maya Rudolph. In other words, entirely adorable.
“So what happened at the YGM place?”
“YFGM? It stands for Your Fairy Godmother.”
Tamara’s face lit up with delight. “Is it a store? It sounds fun! Did you get your invoice cleared up?”
I shook my head. “No. No, it’s…” I sighed and sagged deeper into the couch, hands covering my eyes. “You’re going to think I’m completely crazy.”
* * *
And that was how after explaining my super weird evening to Tamara, I ended up doing it again on Monday night for our other three roommates.
Josie, who’d been quiet for the entire story retelling, stood. “Okay.”
“Okay, what?” I asked.
“We go.”
“ There ?” I shivered in dread just thinking about going back to the offices of Your Fairy Godmother.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Why not? You said you don’t believe. So, let’s prove it’s not real.”
I shared a quick look with Tamara. I’d confessed to her on Friday night that I sorta believed even though I didn’t want to. It bent my mind and the logic it subscribed to, but there were too many things I couldn’t explain away.
Going over all of those weird things again for my roommates had secured the idea that Estelle could somehow be telling the truth. Otherwise, how could I explain her knowing about that strange and haunting dream I’d had at age thirteen? And my car starting on the mountain road all by itself? How could she know about all of those deeply private things about me? How could I explain the magically hidden offices that transformed into a photocopy place, and then into a wooden door for YFGM? Or having James call me immediately after I’d wished he would? Or the freaky glitter rain?
There were too many unexplainable things to discount.
And, as sheepish as I was to admit it, a tiny bit of me really wanted to believe I had a fairy godmother.
“Do you think you can prove it’s not real?” I asked Josie. She was our resident, passionate expert on imaginary worlds. She might be an inventory specialist with a super logical, analytical mind, but she was also a diehard romantasy reader. Although, to be fair, I’d often hear her scoffing while reading, complaining under her breath that the details were incorrect. Fact checking fantasy fiction. That was our Josie.
But if she felt she could prove Estelle wasn’t really a fairy godmother, and put this internal mental debate to rest once and for all, I was all over it.
“Let’s do it,” she said, grabbing her jacket and marching toward the door.
My heart lifted at her take-charge spirit, and I followed her down the steps. She’d get to the bottom of this, and I’d never felt more grateful to anyone in my life.
Half an hour later, the five of us stood outside the spot where the door for Your Fairy Godmother had appeared for me on Friday night. There was nothing here. No number 1010B.
I paced back and forth, feeling pre-emptively stupid in case my imagination had made it all up and I’d dragged my roommates across the city’s downtown for exactly nothing.
“It was like this when I first got here on Friday.”
“Did you have to say something?” Josie asked me.
“To undo a spell?” Samantha scoffed. “This is too whack-a-doodle for me. I’m going home.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder and pivoted to leave. She’d recently had the rebellious shade of green stripped from her Latino curls, returning it to a healthy dark, dark brown with golden heights. She looked like the millionaire trust fund babe that she was, and I bet that this gritty, rundown street was a bit too real for her. That and our whack-a-doodle behaviour. I mean, a woman could only handle so much, right?
“Wait.” Josie caught her sleeve, watching me. “Think back.”
I shrugged. “I was talking to myself.”
“What did you say?”
“I said it was too bad YFGM didn’t exist or something.”
Beside me, Tamara gasped. With her mouth hanging open, she pointed to the building. “That was not here before.”
It was the wooden door with the maroon YFGM sign above. Not the photocopy place like on Friday. I’d somehow skipped a step.
“What?” Samantha was frowning at the buildings. “Nothing changed.”
“There’s a wooden door,” Josie said calmly, like this happened to her every day. “And sign for YGFM.”
“How did you do that?” Tamara was shaking, and Samantha and Gabby were watching like she’d lost her mind.
“Do you see it?” Samantha asked Gabby, who shook her head. Samantha crossed her arms. “We don’t see it. Are you trying to get me back for that birthday prank, Char?”
“No. The door is right here.” I reached out, not quite touching it.
“It’s a wall,” Gabby stated flatly.
“They don’t believe,” Josie told me, her expression serene.
Samantha rolled her eyes. “We aren’t four. Of course we don’t believe in magically changing doors.” She jutted out a hip, her demeanour giving off an air of exasperated impatience. “Can we go home now?”
“Yes!” I snapped, feeling freaked out and under pressure. “Go!”
“You can leave,” Josie said calmly. “But I’m going to stick around.”
“Why?” Samantha asked. “You have a portal to go through?”
“Something like that.” Josie looked to me. “Shall we?”
I really didn’t want to, but Josie was already pulling the door open, dragging a hesitant Tamara inside. At the last minute, I hopped over the threshold, turning back to see Samantha and Gabby frozen in place.
I gasped and stepped back outside again. They began moving, seemingly unharmed by the fact that moments before they’d been in an alarming state of stasis.
“Come on,” Josie said impatiently, tugging me back through the doorway. “It’s just a spell that bends time.”
“A spell?” Wait. I thought Josie was here to help me prove this was all made up. Now she was talking about spells?
I slowly stepped into the entryway that was thick with plants, watching Samantha and Gabby freeze again. This felt like a really big thing—one of those things I couldn’t rationally explain away. And especially one of those things that might prove that I really did have a fairy godmother.
“They’ll be fine,” Josie assured me.
“Are you sure?”
“Somewhat positive.”
“How do you know?”
She shrugged, already pressing forward. “I don’t.”
Something in the plants to our left moved, and Tamara jumped, stumbling against me. Her eyes were wide, and she looked about ready to collapse.
“You okay?”
“What’s in here?” she whispered.
“Just the stuff I told you about.” I hoped. I wasn’t quite so confident now that I’d seen our roommates freeze in place out on the sidewalk.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I asked Josie, tugging on her elbow.
“Quit worrying.” She was grinning like a diehard Harry Potter fan who’d finally got to step foot in the Universal Studios’ Harry Potter theme park.
“You again?” the receptionist barked once we made it as far as the desks. “And you brought along friends? How lovely for all of us.”
“We’d like to see Estelle,” I said, my voice embarrassingly shaky.
“Are you a witch?” Tamara asked timidly.
“Yes, of course she is,” Josie replied with a brisk air of authority. She gave the receptionist a curt, businesslike nod. The receptionist said nothing, simply did something behind her desk that had Estelle appearing a second later, ready to greet us.
“Char! How lovely to see you again. Hello, I’m Estelle.” She shook hands with Tamara and Josie. “So nice to meet you.”
“If you’re a fairy godmother, where are your wings?” Tamara asked, her expression puzzled by Estelle’s black leather pants, unnaturally red hair and lack of wings.
“We don’t have them,” she said brightly. “It makes it too hard to sit in chairs.”
“Do you have a unicorn?”
Josie gave Estelle a patient smile, like she knew the answer. And the answer was yes.
I held my breath, waiting for confirmation and cataloguing the fact that unicorns might be real. I wanted to see one. Like, last week already. Could I wish to see one? How much would it cost, because I bet it would totally be worth it.
I shook off the thought. No. No wishes. No debt. No unicorns.
And also…probably not real.
“There are consequences if you know too much about our world,” Estelle said apologetically to Tamara while eyeing Josie curiously, as if she was trying to place her.
Was Josie a client? Was that how she seemed to know stuff about this magical world?
Wait. No. We were here to disprove all of this, not to reinforce my tentative longing to believe. She read tons of romantasy. And, clearly, so did Estelle. End of story.
“Do I owe you money, too?” Tamara asked as we got settled into the little office outside the pink bullpen. We were sitting on one side of the big mahogany table near the high-up bullpen window, with Estelle across from us.
This time, going through the secret door, I’d felt a shift in temperature, the bullpen warmer than reception. And I swore some of the workers in pink had been hovering above the ground while they’d walked from their cubicles to a strange machine burping rainbow paper.
“The first three wishes are always free,” Estelle said. “It has a certain fairytale feel to it.”
“It does,” Josie agreed.
“So I haven’t had any wishes granted?” Tamara sounded a bit disappointed, and I wondered if she’d forgotten our primary goal for this visit.
Estelle closed her eyes and inhaled slowly. “Let’s see. There were just the three. So far. A wish for a pony. A horse. And a second chance.” She opened her eyes, and Tamara turned even more pale. “Is that right?”
She slowly nodded.
“Okay, but…” I watched Tamara with a spark of worry. The horse-related wishes checked out. But a second chance? I hoped that wasn’t about Kade.
“We’re here about Char’s bill,” Josie said. “She’s the only one of us three that owes you money, correct?”
I nodded, appreciating Josie’s directness.
“Correct.” Estelle smiled. She was looking at me with a warm fondness that made me want to like her despite our…issues. “And it’s due when our quarter ends on August fifteenth.”
“Q3 goes to the end of September,” Josie stated. “Not August.”
“Not in our world.”
“Oh?” Josie considered that and I could see her mentally tucking away that little nugget, adding it to one of her mental spreadsheets of facts about the magical world.
“I’d have thought you’d use the solstices or something,” I cracked.
“Eighty-seven days to pay,” Josie murmured, “once we subtract the five days we’ve already lost this quarter. Not much time.”
“But I told you I don’t have money.”
“Yes. I was speaking with the head fairy, as well as doing some investigating.” Estelle patted the spot at the table beside her, and that thick leather-bound book from Friday was there at her side again, under her hand. I swore it hadn’t been earlier. I’d been trying to keep track of details this time and clearly failing.
“And?” I asked, leaning forward.
“How many fairy godmothers are there?” Josie asked, and I shot her a look. Did she not recall that we were here to get me out of this mess?
“Not as many as there used to be,” Estelle said. She leaned against the table, hands delicately clasped in front of her. “Deforestation and issues with the ozone haven’t exactly been easy on us. Even the tooth fairies need human parents to help out more and more. Then there’s Santa with his cholesterol.”
“Santa?” Tamara whispered, the concern in her voice making me give her a second look. Please don’t tell me that this grown adult sitting beside me still believed in flying reindeer and a fat man stuffing himself down chimneys each year .
“Thank goodness for Mastercard,” I joked. Nobody laughed. “Well, it’s a good thing you and the money I owe aren’t real.” I tried to say it with enough conviction that Estelle might disappear. Sort of like those family movies where if the kids believed in Santa, they saved Christmas. Well, I was hoping for the reverse.
“I’m real.”
“No.”
“Make another wish, and I’ll prove I’m your fairy godmother.”
“I’m not wishing again,” I told Estelle, pulling my hands into the sleeves of my sweater. “Ever. I’m not giving you more opportunities to breach my privacy and charge me fake fees.” I crossed my arms and sat back. “Coincidences happen. So, thanks, but no thanks. The only wish I want to make is to have you and this debt go away.”
She blinked, face falling. “I can’t grant those sorts of wishes.”
“Of course not,” I muttered.
“I want you to believe in me and my powers.” She wiggled in her chair, positioning herself as upright as possible. She tugged at the cuffs of her white blouse. “Make a wish and I won’t charge you for it.”
Josie released an excited gasp, looking at me with hope.
“We already tried that,” I reminded the group. “The James wish?”
Tamara nodded, her expression disgruntled. She’d been pretty bothered that I’d done that to James. So was I.
Josie, however, seemed way too thrilled about the possibility of seeing a wish granted, and appeared to be all in.
“Can I make one?” she asked.
“Shh! No.” I elbowed her.
“Yes, of course.” Estelle beamed at her.
“What’s the loophole?” I asked, knowing there must be one if she was offering free wishes.
“No loophole.”
“You’re going to grant her a free wish?”
“Oh, no. I’m not going to grant it. If I grant it, then I have to charge her. But I’ll tell you what Josie wishes for. Then you’ll know I’m a real fairy godmother, and can hear wishes.”
“That proves nothing,” Tamara pointed out. “You could be a mind reader.”
“Wait!” No . “You charged me to cancel James’s date?”
“Don’t make a wish!” Tamara said, clutching my arm. She leaned forward to glare at Josie, who looked away, cheeks pink.
“I won’t,” I assured Tamara. I jutted my chin in Estelle’s direction. “She and her predecessor seem to enjoy destroying the lives of my friends and family.” I thought of all the crappy wishes that had been granted over the years, and how they’d ruined some really great things.
Estelle gave me a hurt look. “I’m only trying to give you the life you deserve.”
That wasn’t saying much.
“I’ll do it,” Josie said. “And I don’t care if you charge me for it.”
“What! No!” I turned to Josie. Had she only come to help me so she could meet my fairy godmother and make wishes?
“No, I got this,” she said reassuringly, and my anger faded. Maybe her analytical mind had found a way to prove this was all just make-believe.
Estelle perked up, all smiles. “Make a wish—without saying it out loud, and really put your heart into it. I’ll hear your wish and tell you what it is, but won’t grant it.”
“Okay,” Josie said.
“You’re not wishing.”
“Give me a second,” Josie complained.
Then she closed her eyes, and tipped her chin upward like enjoying a sunbeam, and looking even more like Anne Hathaway than usual.
“Something harmless that seems impossible,” I coached Josie, one eye on Estelle. “But is consequence-free. Like a milkshake from Peter’s.”
“I won’t be granting this wish, so wish whatever you want. Something random,” Estelle suggested. She glanced at Tamara, giving her a wink. “And if you choose to wish, don’t wish for another horse.”
“Why not?” I asked. “She wants one.”
“Divine timing isn’t right,” Estelle said impatiently. “And as for you, you really wish for Peter’s milkshakes a lot.”
Beside me, Josie giggled, her concentration broken.
“You ever had one?” I parried back to Estelle.
“No.”
“Well, then. You can’t judge me until you do.”
“Fair enough. So? Ready, Josie?”
Josie nodded and Estelle tipped her head back slightly as though catching a scent. “Aw, that’s a sweet one, Tamara.” She smiled at Tamara, who immediately looked down.
“Wait,” I said. “I thought Josie was the one making the wish.”
“Tamara made a stronger one than Josie’s.”
“That’s a thing?” Josie asked, giving Tamara a peeved look.
“What did you wish for?” I demanded, clutching Tamara’s sleeve, instantly knowing she’d wished for Kade, a second chance, and true love. It was there in the guilty blush spreading across her cheeks like a flood.
“Oh, Tam-Tam. Him again?”
Her eyes were pleading with me. “It just kind of popped into my head.”
Honestly, I wanted to be upset, but I knew she wanted love and a family of her own more than anything. Maybe even more than a horse. It didn’t help that her mom was always trying to set her up with eligible bachelors and hounding her about being single.
At least Estelle said she wouldn’t grant this one. But it did make me wonder if Kade being around lately was the result of Tamara’s previously mentioned wish for a second chance.
“Love is good energy,” Estelle said, her voice tinkling with joy.
I wasn’t so sure. At least not where Kade was concerned. He’d sent her flying and crying into the city. His personality was so big, his focus so self-centred that he’d never allowed Tamara to bloom in his shadow. Surely, she could see she deserved more than what Kade could offer and a second chance would lead to nothing good. Especially since it felt like she was finally coming into her own, and figuring out what she wanted from life.
Although, as much as I loved having her here in Calgary, I knew this wasn’t where my friend truly belonged.
I tangled my hands in my lap, realizing I was being just like Kade—selfish with the sweetest person I’d ever met. I wanted her to want the same things I did, so I wouldn’t have to be alone. But she wanted to be a country girl with a horse and husband. She didn’t crave or need big adventures and constant change in the way I did. She didn’t mind sitting at home with her thoughts, and it made me wonder if I’d actually brought that romantic Kade mess on her by wishing she’d join me in the city.
If so, that seemed wholly unfair to Tamara, and I hoped that fairy godmothers had some stop gaps in place for that sort of selfish, dark magic wishing.
Then again, there was my tenth birthday wish and the one about James. So, it appeared as though they didn’t.
I needed to put a halt to all wishes. Forever.
“Are you telepathic?” Tamara asked Estelle.
“I can only hear wishes.”
“What about my wish?” Josie demanded.
“You wished this folder would fall off the table.” Estelle swiped a hand across the table’s surface, knocking the papers to the floor. “Wish granted.”
Josie gasped, her expression one of tickled delight.
“You didn’t charge her for that?” I confirmed, eyeing the splayed papers.
“Of course not. Where’s your sense of humour?” Estelle chided and Josie nodded, taking a side that most definitely wasn’t with her party-trickless friend. “Char, if you’d like another wish, you are welcome to go now.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “No, I’m good.”
“Was that a spell that hid YFGM’s door?” Josie asked. “And Samantha and Gabby couldn’t see it when we did because they don’t believe?”
“I don’t believe!” The words felt heavy, like a lie.
“It’s a security enchantment,” Estelle said, one eye on me.
Josie smiled smugly. “Thought so!” It was as though she thought she was a step ahead of Tamara and me in regards to the whole paranormal fairy world thing and its magic. She turned to me. “Think about how long the line would be outside her door if everyone knew what she could do.”
“They’d burn me at the stake,” Estelle said.
“Pretty sure that ended a few centuries ago,” I muttered.
“Or run me out of town.”
Yeah, that could happen. Maybe less so in a city, but in a small town she’d be gone in a minute.
“Estelle could just…” I tried to think of the right word to explain what I saw as a solution, but failed to find it. “Invisible herself?”
Josie giggled.
“Well, I don’t know what it’s called!” I said hotly, my hands aflutter. “But you understand what I mean? Beam me up, Scotty! Or make it look like you’re here, but you’re actually somewhere else. Somewhere safe.”
“I have to pass a few more levels before I can do high-powered magic like that,” Estelle said kindly.
The idea that she might not be safe or able to protect herself made me uncomfortable. Did that mean I was starting to believe? Or was I just a softie for someone who seemed nice, even though delusional about reality?
I sighed in defeat, my brain tired of going around in circles and trying to make sense of illogical happenings. Right now, I wanted to go home and have this problem behind me. Even if that meant believing.
“Could you imagine if everyone knew about our fairy godmother services? We’d have to hire five trolls as office security and about forty more ogres and goblins to do my accounting!” Estelle laughed, Josie joining in. “It’s hard to find good accountants. Especially ones that speak English and don’t mind working for fairies.”
“I’ll bet!”
“I forgot to ask!” Estelle stood. “Would you like some Canada Dry?” She was smiling, looking more comfortable than I wanted her to be. So certain. So sure. “I have it back in stock.” She opened the mini fridge to display rows and rows of green cans. She lifted her perfect eyebrows in question. She must spend a lot at the salon or time in front of the mirror trying out eyebrow-shaping tutorials she found online.
“Did you wish for it? To restock itself?” I asked. I’d die for a fridge that magically restocked itself.
“We can’t grant wishes that might benefit us.”
“What if we made the wish for you?”
Estelle shook her head.
I eyed Estelle’s brows again. “So you wake up looking gorgeous? Because that really is a wasted wish area. It would be a total time saver.” I needed to learn her skin care regime and whatever it was she did to her brows.
“Thank you,” Estelle said kindly.
I rubbed my face, aware I was veering off track again. We needed to focus on details and get to the bottom of this. “You said there was a loophole or something where I don’t have to pay my tab?” I noted her thick book, the layers of dust, the hum of the mini fridge, a framed photo on the desk of two women, one in pink, one in brown.
“You were warned the fees would come due, and we haven’t charged you interest?—”
I sat up straight, no longer hearing Estelle. The woman wearing brown in the framed photo. I knew that face. Seeing it again after so long was like being socked in the gut.
“That’s her! The one from the dream,” I croaked, pointing at the framed photo. That was the woman who’d stumbled into my bedroom when I was thirteen, and had thoroughly freaked me out.
Estelle twisted to look at the photo. “That’s Paxi. Your former fairy godmother.”
My breathing went jagged.
My vision narrowed.
There was nothing left for me, but one thing: to believe.
In a hoarse whisper, I said, “You really are my fairy godmother.”