13. ~ Char ~
CHAPTER 13
~ Char ~
A fter work on Wednesday, I waited for the walk signal to change several blocks from Estelle’s office. I was feeling good. James had sent me numerous milkshake memes over the day, and I’d replied with baseball jokes. It was silly and juvenile, and I’d loved every second of it. We were flirting so hard, it was like my brain had forgotten that, romantically, he was a nonstarter because of our relationship expectations.
All it could scream at me was “HE LIKES ME!! THE HOTTIE LIKES ME!!”
So maybe it didn’t matter that I’d never be the kind of woman he wanted for his long-term, love-nest plan. We were young. We had the ‘right here, right now’, to take advantage of. Maybe I could allow myself to forget about all the ways I wasn’t the ideal woman for this hunky Viking of a man who was crushing on me, and just crush back on him and enjoy the feeling.
Flying high from my day of flirting, and the fact that I’d also managed to perform a ton of good deeds at work, from making coffee, to running out to grab lunches, and even cleaning the disgusting microwave in the staff break room. Yeah, it was probably only five dollars of good deeds, but I was eager to see what impact I’d made on my bill, as well as dreading what that cracked window from last night might have cost me.
Cause and effect. Cause and effect. That was what Josie said.
I sighed. Was I really excited about putting five dollars toward my debt? Although, maybe crushing on James and helping him out was beneficial—I mean, love was the purest form of energy, right? I could swoon over that man all day long, if need be.
Because otherwise, currently, my mission to pay off Estelle was impossible, and since I wasn’t with MI6, it meant it was truly, and utterly, completely impossible. But what else could I do other than take a massive risk and try to build a neighbourhood park that may or may not put some good out into the world?
I chewed on my lip, trying to form a Plan B.
I had nothing.
My mind slipped to my happy place: Athenian pottery. I’d sent my dad a post I’d come across on my lunch break about an ancient civilizations travelling exhibit that would be coming through Alberta in a few months. Even though he rarely left the house, I was hoping he’d reply ‘Let’s go!’
The walk symbol changed, and I went to step out just as a blue convertible with its roof stuck halfway up, or halfway down—depending on how you looked at it—lurched onto the curb, nearly hitting me.
I jumped back, hollering, “Learn to drive!”
I turned to glare at the driver before realizing it was Tamara behind the wheel. Embarrassed for not recognizing her car, and for snapping at her, I said, “Tamara? What on earth? Are you okay?”
Peering into the car, I checked the floor of the passenger side, the common place to find Tamara’s cowering passengers shivering in a heap of fear. The spot was empty.
“Don’t ask, just jump in and help me navigate. I have fewer bumps when you’re in Benjamin.”
Benjamin being her car. Bumps meaning collisions. Usually minor. A bumper tap, jumping the curb, nudging a parking meter. And, apparently, now also almost mowing me down. The usual.
“Where are you going? Home is the other way.”
She gave me a pleading look.
“Fine.” I yanked open the car door, and sat down, wishing I were more religious so I could do the sign of the cross and mean it.
No, I didn’t wish that. Estelle, that was not a wish!
“I’m having a day,” Tamara said, “so I had my phone navigate me to you.”
“Really? Why?”
“I got to thinking about things, and I had to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m fine.” I buckled up, cinching the belt nice and tight, then ensured my headrest was adjusted to a suitable height for preventing whiplash. I clutched the dashboard as the car lurched its way off the curb.
“I’m not that bad!” Tamara complained, eyeing my theatrics.
True. She wasn’t. Although, with the downtown rush-hour traffic and all of its one-way streets, large delivery trucks as well as rushing, aggressive drivers, she tended to get worked up. Back home, she was a lot calmer behind the wheel and rarely hit anything.
I turned down the volume on her playlist of out-of-season Christmas carols, a sure sign she was stressed. Tamara swerved like she planned to change lanes, then changed her mind. I did my best to relax into the seat, realizing that a car accident wasn’t likely to make my life that much worse at the moment. In fact, maybe I’d meet a handsome doctor. A rich one who believed in helping me pay off my fairy godmother debt.
“Where am I going?” Tamara asked.
“I don’t know. What’s got you stressed?”
“Because…because…” She lowered her voice as if someone might overhear her. “Because you have a fairy godmother, and I think it’s finally sunk in. Like, really sunk in. All day, I couldn’t stop thinking about her and wondering what else might be out there influencing our lives that we don’t know about.”
“Yeah. I’ve been thinking about that, too,” I said soothingly as she swerved around a city bus, trying to remind myself to breathe and relax. And not make a wish. But Tamara was such an erratic mess of a driver today it was difficult. Making wishes seemed to be my default for pretty much every stressful situation in my life.
“You’ve cost me a lot of money with your driving,” I mused as she jammed on the brakes for a yellow light.
“You sound like my insurance company,” she muttered.
“You know how many wishes I’ve made, and been granted, and billed for due to your driving?” I teased.
“Have not.” Tamara said, her hands committing a death grip on the leather steering wheel. “Don’t even say that.”
“Sorry.”
Reaching up, I hit the button to close the roof. It was a gorgeous and sunny late May day, but not that sunny. The air still had a nip to it, flowing over the mountains only an hour away from the city.
The cloth roof closed beautifully. Not at all stuck, likely a victim of Tamara panicking and hitting every button at her disposal.
“What’s else is wrong?” I asked, figuring her level of stress had to do with more than just the Estelle stuff.
She chewed her bottom lip, heading down our street. “Stuff.”
“What kind of stuff?” Kade? Was he back in her life and getting her heart and brain all confused again?
Then again, it could be more Estelle stuff. She hadn’t liked the James-break-a-date wish, and she hadn’t liked hearing about the broken window, either. “Is it karma?”
“What if your actions are actually making things worse? What if that broken window got James tied into your karmic mess—like, in a bad way?”
My stomach dropped, my mind speeding though worst-case scenarios. “Do you think that could happen?”
“There’s a lot that wasn’t explained to us.”
“Take a left,” I said, sending her under the tracks and toward Estelle’s office. “I was actually on my way to see Estelle and check on my repayments. You want to come in with me?”
Honestly, though, I wasn’t sure she could handle witches, ogres, and fairies right now. She might pop a valve. But I also really appreciated that she was so worried about me. She was the best kind of friend that an in-debt gal could ask for.
She gripped the steering wheel harder, a look of ticked off determination filling her gaze as she stopped in front of the invisible Your Fairy Godmother offices. “No, but I’ll wait for you in the car.”
* * *
“Let’s call in Igor.” Estelle seemed happy to see me, and we both had opened cans of cold Canada Dry ginger ale in front of us. Tamara, staying true to her promise, had opted to wait in the car. I was a bit curious if time would be the same for her outside the offices as it was for me inside. I’d tried to convince her to sync our watches, but she made a compelling argument that the magical world would have a workaround for any time discrepancies between us as I entered the office’s portal.
Plus, she didn’t wear a watch.
“Who’s he? Is he the ogre?” I asked.
“Igor’s from accounting.” She’d pushed a button on the wall, but nothing noticeable had happened.
“Does he really…” I paused, to take a bracing breath “eat people?”
Estelle sagged, eyes rolled heavenward. “No.” She waved a hand, cheeks pink. “Sorry if you heard me say that. I was—it…it was inaccurate. He doesn’t eat humans or fairies, and I’m sorry if I made you think he does.”
“You sure?” I felt hesitant relief, not quite ready to believe.
“I’ve been assured he’s vegan. But I do recommend that you be very polite and don’t look at his toes.”
“Why?”
She gave a delicate shudder. “They’re disgusting.”
“Why doesn’t he wear shoes?” Moments later, my jaw slackened as the door to Paxi’s old office swung open and a short, green-skinned, hunch-backed…monster entered.
He dropped a pink folder on Estelle’s desk, peered at me with his beady black eyes, licked his lips, and headed for the door again.
“Thank you so much, Igor. I appreciate your dedication and speed.” Estelle smiled hugely, fidgeting and looking nervous.
Naturally, I couldn’t help but glance down at his feet as he moved past me. Hairy, large knuckled, oddly bent toes. Honestly, not as gross as his drooling mouth with the rows of crooked teeth, and killer bad breath that smelled like an over-filled dumpster after a week-long heatwave.
“Thank you!” Estelle called again as he exited the room. She opened the pink folder he’d left behind with trembling hands. “Okay. Let’s see.”
“Are you sure he doesn’t eat people?”
“Fairly certain. I mean, yes. He doesn’t eat humans.”
“He licked his lips at me.”
“He likes to toy with humans.”
“What?” I had an instant vision of a cat playing with a mouse before taking its life. I glanced toward the door, assuring myself that it was closed and that I was somewhat safe.
“He doesn’t care much for humans. Barely even tolerates fairies.” Estelle was reading the papers he’d brought her. “It looks like you’ve repaid $1.12. Good work! A dollar-twelve isn’t bad for your first crack at the bat.”
I blinked a few times, my mind letting go of the ogre business and slowly focusing on the amount I’d put toward my account.
“A buck twelve! I did way more than a couple of measly good deeds!”
“There’s a note about bandwidth issues.” She frowned at her paperwork. “You also added a substantial amount to your total.”
I cringed. “How much?”
She ran a finger down a column. “Let’s see. A few wishes and…” She winced. “That broken window while funnelling the energy into your account. That added up quite quickly.”
I leaned forward, dread settling in. “How bad was it?”
“Well, the window itself wasn’t too terribly expensive, but upsetting the owner?—”
“But James calmed him.”
“You started a bit of a cosmic energy wave.” She shut the folder. “But it was a small one. All done now. I did feel it, though.” She gave a shiver. “I much prefer the good energy.”
“What about James? He was with me when we broke the window. Will any of this taint him?”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. Tamara thought it might be bad karma for him, too?”
“Yes, but no. It’s complicated. You’re actively channelling your positive energy toward your debt, so the impact of your actions is amplified in some ways because we are bypassing some of the universe’s natural checks and balances. He isn’t bypassing anything, so he will be fine.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
Seeing I wasn’t fully satisfied, she added, “He had a blip of bad karma, but it’s already balanced out.”
“Clearly he doesn’t have fairy godmother debt like I do,” I muttered, relieved that he would be okay, but a bit sad I was still handling all of this alone. I wouldn’t wish a mess like this upon him, but some company would be nice.
“Of course not. Men don’t have fairy godmothers.”
“They don’t?”
Estelle sighed and shook her head, her red hair shifting like a satin curtain. “Sexist, right? I’ve been advocating for equal rights, but honestly, nobody really seems to care.”
I considered that. Personally, I couldn’t imagine any of the men I knew getting bent out of shape for not having a fairy godmother.
“What was that bit you said about bandwidth issues?”
“Igor noted that the receiving bandwidth was weak.” Estelle scratched an ear, frowning. “That’s odd. I’d better look into that. Good thing you came in.”
“So that means you didn’t capture all of my good deeds? What I did was actually worth more than a dollar-twelve?”
“Yes, I think so. The machinery probably needs recalibration. Planets, moons, universes. Even our sun moves around over time. They’re always on the go!” She gave me a cheerful grin and went to the dusty old desk in the corner. “It’s been a while since we’ve used that machinery, as most people pay in cash. I’ll ask the gnomes to make a few adjustments in their gardens, and you should be good to go.” She pulled something out of a drawer that looked like a tiny transistor radio, and spoke into its speaker after fiddling with the knobs and saying ‘hello, hello’ a few times.
“What are you doing?”
After receiving a garbled squeak back, and taking part in a quick conversation in a tongue I didn’t understand, she put it back in the drawer. “I asked the gnomes to recalibrate their sundials.”
“Sundials?” Was she kidding me?
“Not the kind you use,” she assured me after seeing my expression. “Ours are much more complicated, and measure things way beyond the sun and this universe.”
“So it heard a bit of good, and a bit of the bad? But in the future, both of those will be heard better?”
“Oh, it heard the bad just fine.” She read the notes in front of her. “It added fifty-three dollars to your amount owing.”
“ What ? How could it hear the bad stuff better than the good? That’s unfair!”
Estelle wrinkled her nose apologetically. “Maybe I can ask for a discount since our machinery wasn’t adequately calibrated.” She went to push the button that had summoned him the first time. “I’ll ask Igor if that’s possible.”
“No! It’s okay. Ask him later.” I didn’t think my nerves could handle seeing the ogre twice in one visit. I shifted forward in my seat. “So those cosmic energy waves. How do I get one going?”
* * *
Back in the car, I turned to Tamara.
“It’s bad, isn’t it?” She turned off the CBC comedy radio show, and with her big chocolaty eyes pinned on me, waited for a reply.
“Not horrible. But not great. The window added more to my account than I took off with my small acts of service.”
She sighed and started her Sebring.
“Oh, and the whole ogre-eating-me thing was a joke or something. Not going to happen.” I swallowed hard, the fearful corner of my brain reluctant to let go of the idea.
“Are you sure?” She was watching me with round eyes. She shuddered involuntarily, and I was glad she’d stayed in the car.
“Yeah. And guys don’t have fairy godmothers, so James wasn’t impacted.”
“Whew. That’s good.”
“But like Josie suggested, I need to do something big to get this debt paid off,” I said, buckling my seatbelt. I’d filled her in on the idea earlier and she’d agreed it might be smart. We were both overwhelmed at the scope of the project though, from buying land to transforming it into a friendly public space.
“Estelle agreed that the park would be smart. It could start a cosmic energy wave.” Catching Tamara’s worried expression, I added, “That’s a good thing. Not without risks, but it’s solid. And since I have no better ideas…”
She nodded, starting the car. “Then I’ll help.”
“Really?”
She smiled at me before shoulder checking and leaving her parking spot. “Of course.”
“But how are we going to do something like that?”
“Are you kidding? We grew up in a small town. This community stuff is in our blood.”
“Yeah, but I was only in Eagle Ridge for a few years.”
She laughed at my expression. “I promise you, that town is in your blood. Plus, you’re totally a smalltown girl at heart.”
I crossed my arms, thinking of her meddling mom, sporting the same hairstyle for decades and being overly-focused on getting a husband for Tamara. I scrunched my nose. “No, I’m not.”
“Are too! So come on. Get with the program. We have more experience than you think. You and I did grad fundraising. We organized helpers for the town’s spring cleanup. We begged businesses to donate to the silent auction when the curling rink’s roof collapsed. We’ve totally got this.”
She seemed happy and calmer than usual, and as she drove us home, there was no lurching, swerving or close calls.
“You really think we could do this?”
“Yes, but we’re going to need to get the girls on board. We need Samantha’s richie-rich connections, Josie’s organizational skills, and Gabby’s physical strength.”
I had wondered what Tamara had planned for our cleaning obsessed roomie. She did work out regularly—mainly to hang out with her crush, Lamonte, who was a fitness buff. But the byproduct was that she was stronger than the rest of us, which would come in handy once we got to the physical labour part of our plan.
“James says he might know some people, too.”
“You really like him, don’t you?”
“Yeah, but it’s not like it’ll go anywhere. I’m not his type.” I could feel my cheeks heating, a familiar sting of rejection hurting in my chest. I wanted to change the subject, take action on the park and forget my inner ache.
“Why not?”
“He wants a functionally cozy family like his own, and I don’t even know how family should work.”
“Give yourself some credit.”
“How? My family was a hot mess, and I don’t even understand love. I’d mess up our marriage in five minutes.” I felt the familiar urge to move, to distract myself from the well of feelings and inadequacies inside me. If I continued to sit here, I’d wallow and what was that going to help? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Tamara, as though sensing my need to move, reached over the console, clasping my left hand in her right one.
“You wouldn’t mess it up,” Tamara said calmly, and with a trustworthy level of authority that it settled my inner demons enough to consider her next words. Her warm hand was grounding, her assurances comforting as she squeezed before releasing her grip. “You know exactly what you want, even when you’re too afraid to go for it.”
I swiped at the sudden wetness in my eyes. “I don’t know what I want.”
Inside me, a whisper took up, calling me a liar. I wanted that same dream James had. I just didn’t believe in it. Especially not on a first try. The divorce rate was around fifty percent for a reason. And I wasn’t sure I could survive a romantic failure at that level. To think I’d found the huge love of my life, something I could trust like thick ice over a lake in midwinter, only to have it shatter beneath me like ice over a spring puddle and plunge me into life-threatening waters. Devastating.
“Char,” Tamara said gently, reclaiming my left hand for another squeeze, “he likes you. Sometimes that’s enough. You just have to be brave and say what you think and feel.”
I nodded, trying to focus on the flickering cozy feeling that James’s crush might be real—so real that others could see it, and verbally confirm it for my disbelieving heart.
“He said he broke up with his fiancée because there was no room for spontaneity.”
“Really? That’s practically your middle name!”
A surge of joy soared through me, tugging my lips into a grin. “Right?” I was Oprah Charmaine Spontaneity Adventure McDonnell.
Her voice lowered in seriousness. “Don’t let your fears keep you from this guy, Char. He’s special.”
I nodded again, sniffing back tears. He truly was. Even if he was out of reach for someone like me, who had so much baggage that I tripped over it with every step I took forward.
“So?” Tamara asked, after we’d gone a block in silence. “You’re going to try making a park?”
“Yeah, I guess.” I wanted to keep talking about James, not my fairy godmother problems. But I did need to get going on a large-scale karmic project because, if Josie’s math was correct, I only had eighty more days to come up with over a hundred grand. A little more pressing than my growing crush.
“What do you think a wish would cost me to get the park started?” I asked Tamara. “Would the expense outweigh what it could possibly bring in if I wished for the right kind of help?”
“ No ! No more wishes.”
“Why not?”
“Because…” The car swerved slightly under her care. “All the reasons! Do I really have to list them all for you?”
“I guess not.”
“Good. Now let’s get home, convince the girls to help, call James over and start this work party.”
“Tam-Tam, you’re my favourite.”
She grinned as she parked Benjamin, her convertible, outside the apartment. “I know. I’m the best, aren’t I?”
“You truly are.”
Less than an hour later, the five of us gals were camped out in the living room, Tamara and I having miraculously convinced everyone to help. We’d given each roommate a different pitch, playing to their interests. There’d been this amazing positive vibe like we’d all thought this might actually be possible. Like we could sit down and change our community.
Tamara had been the easiest to get on board, mostly because I was in danger, and she hated that as much as the idea of kids playing in a dangerous lot. Josie climbed on board because the project was connected to her beloved magical world, and we promised she could make all of the spreadsheets she wanted. Yeah, spreadsheets were her love language.
Gabby was a timely gold strike as she’d just learned the heart-crushing news that Lamonte was going out with a woman for the third time, and that they were rapidly approaching couple status. In other words, she needed a major distraction.
Samantha had been the hardest to convince. We needed her money skills and contacts. But what was in it for her? She strived to be as different from her stepmom Clarisa as possible, and this project had do-gooder written all over it. In the end, I’d crossed my fingers like I had with the other gals, refusing to make a wish, and instead asking the universe to please, please help me.
Samantha had said no.
But the four of us, full of energy and an upbeat connected silliness that I’d never experienced before, had all begged and pleaded with Samantha, then threatened to cash in our RRSPs if she didn’t help us.
She’d laughed and relented, making us promise to never tell Clarisa.
Then she’d grabbed her MacBook and sat down at the couch, taking charge like I’d hoped she would. “First, we need to find out who owns the land. Then make an offer and buy it.” She turned to me. “Did you do that yet?”
It had been twenty-four hours since she’d given me that tip, and I hadn’t.
I shook my head. “Moot point. I don’t have any money.” I purposefully took in my roommates and their expressions in case this was when one of them decided to reveal that they’d secretly won the lottery and were sitting on millions.
Nobody spoke up. I gave Samantha a hopeful look. I had a feeling she had lots of money tucked away, and possibly even that rumoured trust fund.
“You don’t want to own the park,” Samantha stated. “That’s a huge liability. You want to create it, and donate it to the city. So really, you just need a loan.” She eyed me, and I could tell she was calculating my available credit as well as my assets. And I was coming up short. “So,” she said on an intake of breath, “we’ll look into some community greening grants to acquire the land. Clarisa and her various clubs do it all the time. We’ll also talk to the city and see how they can help us, since I assume you’ll want to donate the park to them once it’s built. Then they can handle the liability and maintenance costs. Not to mention the property taxes.”
I nodded slowly after looking to Tamara and Josie, who shrugged and nodded. Samantha’s idea sounded smart. Get the karmic ball rolling, then hand it all over so I didn’t have the ongoing risks or headaches.
“I found out who owns the lot,” Josie said, hunched over her phone. “They owe back taxes, which means it’s going up in a tax sale next week.” She looked up, eyes wide, like she didn’t quite believe the fortuitous news.
Was this an actual, honest-to-goodness timely coincidence? Or had I somehow wished for this? Because the odds were incredibly low that the land would become available right when we needed it.
“And same with the lot behind it. The one with the gross old warehouse!” she exclaimed moments later.
“I’m going to sketch the future park so we can visualize what we’ll need,” Tamara said, her eyes brighter than I’d seen them in some time. She disappeared into her room and returned with a sketch pad I knew was filled with horse drawings.
“Let’s start researching grants,” Josie suggested. I nodded, my mind still trying to track through the past several days, and whether I’d somehow wished for the two lots to come up for sale. But wishes couldn’t change the past, right? The lot owners would have had to skip out on their taxes for years, meaning this was simply meant to be.
Serendipitous.
I started to feel like maybe this was going to happen. And maybe, just maybe, I hadn’t even needed to make a wish.