Page 107 of Fairy Godmothers Aren't Cheap

“I’m offering.”

The woman eyed me, from my bare feet and pink toenails, to my cut-off shorts, T-shirt, and ponytail. She opened her mouth, as though she was going to say something, but then after a beat said, “If you’re sure.”

“I am. “

“I’ll leave you my cell phone number in case she gets out of hand.”

I felt the first stirrings of panic. In what ways could someone experiencing memory loss, and possible cognitive issues that I didn’t understand, get out of hand?

“Is there anything I should know?”

“Unless she’s going to put herself in the way of physical harm, just go with the flow. Even if she’s lying or delusional. Don’t waste your breath arguing. She doesn’t get angry or violent, but she gets pretty stubborn.”

Five minutes later, my white-haired neighbour was sitting at the kitchen table and I was dealing cards.

“Do you know gin rummy?” Mrs. Laven asked me. She clearly wasn’t quite sure who I was, and maybe still thought I was Sophia, like she had the first time we’d met.

But she hadn’t made any hurtful comments about my appearance having changed, and she wasn’t giving me any trouble. She actually kind of reminded me of a kid who had a new babysitter. Slightly wary, but also willing to go along with things just to see.

“Can you show me how to play?” I asked.

“Where are the cookies?” Her eyes flicked around the kitchen with a practiced gaze. The usual spots Sally left them out—table, counter corner, cookie jar near the fridge.

“I’ll get some.” I got up and went into the stash Sally had left for me. She’d frozen dozens of them, and I grabbed some of the oatmeal raisin ones that I’d thawed earlier in the day.

I put the kettle on for tea and returned to the table with the cookies. Mrs. Laven clucked approvingly and tapped the cards sitting facedown, waiting for me.

“How do we play?” I asked.

“You’ll figure it out,” she assured me. About fifteen minutes later I realized I’d been sharked. I had no clue how to play gin rummy, and Mrs. Laven, instilling a false confidence in this newbie, was using it to her advantage.

In other words, I was already out five dollars, as she’d somehow convinced me that we should bet. She’d done a good job of bolstering my confidence before destroying me.

Her attention began to flag after about forty-five minutes—around the time I’d finally sorted out the shifting rules—and I suggested we take a break.

“Good idea.” She slid all the IOUs I’d written on scraps of paper toward herself. “If I go to the bank with more than this much money, they’ll surely think I’m up to no good.” She let out a joyful cackle.

“I’ll get some cash for you and trade those in,” I said, pointing to the scraps. I lived pretty much cashless, and even more so now that I was playing for money against the resident neighbourhood, memory-addled card shark.

“How long have you lived next-door?” I asked, sliding the deck of cards back into their box.

“Years and years. The Backstrohms moved in when James was just a boy. The first time I met him, he was running around in his underwear and an eye patch, claiming to be an alien pirate who lived in a submarine. It was made out of a cardboard box.”

“Really?” I leaned forward, eager to hear more.

“Sweet boy,” she said.

“I agree.”

She patted my hand. “Of course you do, dear.” Her eyes narrowed and she shook a finger at me, her brow furrowing as she worked to place me. “Make sure you treat him right, otherwise you’ll be answering to me. You hear?”

I nodded solemnly, secretly adoring this little old lady and the way she was willing to take me down if I mistreated her neighbour. Her loyalty warmed my heart.

“Has he always wanted a homey woman?” I asked. I still felt a bit wobbly about the necklace he’d given me, and how invested he seemed as a boyfriend. I’d never been in a relationship like this before—one so healthy. It made me nervous, like a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.

But I’d started to wonder lately that, even if he was under Estelle’s spell, if I could somehow make our love real so we could continue on after the magical effects that had brought us together wore off.

“Homey?” Mrs. Laven’s faded eyes narrowed in thought. “No, James has a spark in him, like his mother.” She nodded to herself as though in confirmation. Then she smiled into the distance as if she was remembering him as a small boy during his pirate phase. I’d trade a kidney for a photo of him in his alien pirate get-up. I bet he’d been heart-destroyingly adorable.

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