Page 19 of Fairy Godmothers Aren't Cheap

Also, were milkshakes on the table: yes or no?

Turning my phone over in my hands, I considered the idea that she might be upset with me for waving the pricey gift shop necklace in front of her. I’d been so caught up in being the one to show it to her, anticipating the way her face would light up, that I hadn’t even thought about the money part of it.

I sighed, hoping I was just being paranoid, and that Char would soon text me about meeting up.

Nothing against Alana, my date, but I’d been relieved when I’d arrived at Earl’s to discover they were closed for the night due to a water leak. Obviously, like me, she’d only agreed to our date because of my mom. The two women worked together in the Salvation Army offices, and my mom had been the one to set us up. When I’d called Alana to let her know about Earl’s, she hadn’t suggested another place or time. And neither had I.

As for my mom, she meant well, but I could find my own dates. Preferably ones who kept me on my toes with their lust for life, and weren’t too skinny. A beefy guy like me needed a woman I could hug without worrying about snapping her spine like a toothpick.

Which brought my mind back to Char and her delicious curves. What was up with her?

Why had she been so eager to get off the phone? And more to the point, why was she dishing out mistruths and keeping secrets?

And why hadn’t I cancelled my date and tagged along with her when she’d asked?

CHAPTER5

~ Char ~

“He was looking forward to that date,” I snapped at Estelle, having ended my call with James. I still couldn’t believe I’d asked this mind-controlling monster with the bright red hair to target my friend’s dating life. Talk about over the line. Why had I wished for his date to fall through? And why had Estelle granted it? James rarely dated, which meant this woman had to be special, and I’d just wished her away.

No, no. None of this wishing business could be true. It wasn’t real. I hadn’t made that happen. I was having a dream. I’d fallen asleep on the couch after work. Or maybe I’d been hit by a car on my way to the museum and was actually in a coma.

I surreptitiously tried pinching myself. It hurt. But we felt things in our dreams, too, right? I sighed and scrubbed my face, a very real feeling of guilt for my actions against James pouring through me like lava.

“I can’t believe that’s allowed—to meddle in someone else’s life,” I grumbled.

Estelle’s smile wobbled, and a flicker of uncertainty lingered in her gaze.

I opened my folder of wishes and scanned them again. There were a lot of granted wishes on my invoice surrounding my numerous crushes over the years. Had I really wished for someone to love me that many times? I read the invoice again, heart sinking, while Estelle talked through the basics of being able to hear my wishes.

There was no way that someone—anyone, even my own mother—could know about all of these so-called private wishes. But fairy godmothers? They couldn’t be real. If I genuinely had one, wouldn’t I already be in Greece, touring the ruins with my dad?

My eyes stung, and I clenched them shut, reminding myself that I’d figure this out like I always did when faced with a problem, because I was brave and strong.

As well as selfish—as I’d just proven with James.

But really, my selfishness was nothing new. The ultimate evidence was here, staring me in the face from the invoice’s first page. My tenth birthday wish. I definitely remember how hard I’d wished for my dad to be home when he’d been out working extra shifts to repair the car after mom had slid off an icy road. I’d put my whole heart into it, and he’d surprised me by coming home and telling me exactly what I’d wanted to hear—that he hated missing my special day. That he’d been away at work and figured, what the heck? He wanted to be home, so he was going home. What would they do? Fire him?

Well, they had. Right after the three of us had gone out for brunch where the server had brought a candle-lit piece of cake to our table. I’d been so happy, and simply over the moon with the attention. My whole family together, doing something centred around me—what could have been better?

Then Dad got canned for skipping out of work, and nothing was the same for the three of us again. I’d always known it was my fault for wishing him home, and whomever wrote up this invoice knew it, too.

Money had been tight for the following six months after Dad lost his job. So tight that there’d been no renewed library membership, no sign up for baseball that summer, endless bottle picking in the ditches, and yet another move. Mom withdrew into herself and daytime TV to the point that even when Dad finally got work again, I’d basically been home alone even when she was there. Then she’d foundhim. My stepdad. Too loud, too gregarious. Plus, he had his own daughter. Perfect, slim, fun, and outgoing in an easy way that made me feel extra awkward.

I never lived with them. The only times I ever stayed with Mom and her new happy, perfect family was when Dad was working away and couldn’t find someone to shuffle me off to. Eventually, I’d just started staying home alone, even though, legally, I was probably too young.

My mom and dad had never really gone on any trips when they’d been together, and I still didn’t understand the super-social, excitement-loving woman my mom had become after meeting Damon. Had she always been longing to get out more and experience more thrills? All I knew was that I’d felt like an unwanted misfit, everyone just waiting for me to turn eighteen so I wouldn’t be their problem any longer.

I opened my eyes, blinking away the visual stars that had appeared from keeping my eyes so tightly closed, and stared at the invoiced wish again. One greedy little wish that had started the wrecking ball swinging toward my family.

Who would ever grant such a request, knowing it would lead to familial devastation?

“When our clients reach the age of 9,125 days,” Estelle was saying, “we are within the bounds of our magical laws to start billing them for their wishes.”

“Nine thousand and…?” My overwhelmed mind was no longer absorbing information, stuck on that one bad wish.

“Leap years. I know.” Estelle rolled her eyes. “It complicates the math. That and business days. Your world. Our world. Rules, regulations, Mrs. C.’s list.”

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