Page 133 of The Witching Hours

I’d never considered the idea that my dad might take up with a woman who wasn’t my mom. The child in me immediately instigated a wrestling match with my adult. My inner child is both vicious and determined to have her way. Fortunately, as an adult I’m able to see a bigger picture.

I nodded at Winkleman. “Or?”

He shrugged. “You have to tell me what needs speak to you loudest. We could get a bill passed at the federal level guaranteeing school lunch for every child whose family can’t support that.”

Oh. Wow. That pulled at my heartstrings bigtime.

“That’s pretty amazing.”

“No argument.”

“Now that this has been offered, I feel like any other choice would make me a bad person. I mean, I’d always be known as the woman who could’ve solved the school lunch problem and didn’t.”

Winkleman sighed. “Are you sure you don’t want to circle back to the drama department? I understand that acting can be most gratifying.”

“If you’re saying I’m being overly dramatic, I resent that. I’m being completely sincere.” After a brief pause, I said, “Hey. Not saying this is what I want, but could I play roulette two for one with both those things as prizes?”

“Mary Marie Campbell. You are unique.”

“Everybody’s unique.” It was one of those borderline contentious responses that agrees and argues at the same time. “Does that mean yes?”

“The question has never come up before. I’m not sure it’s entirely up to me.”

“Above your paygrade?”

He smiled. “Precisely.”

“Should I wait at the soda fountain while you find out?”

“Feel free to wander as you please while I find out. You can even try things on.” My head jerked in the direction of the Dior dress then I felt the thrill fade as I confronted the reality that the Dior dress was probably a size four. “Everything in the store will fit like it’s been made for you.”

“No mindreading. We had a deal.”

“I never agreed to a deal.”

“Well, since you’re so slippery, while you’re on mission to get an answer to my question, ask how I can be sure the roulette wheel isn’t rigged.”

Without a word, Winkleman faded away. I didn’t want to become blasé about such things. So, I took a second to remind myself that was not normal.

I looked at the sofa fountain. I was hoping jamocha almond fudge fades away just like that. I stepped behind the counter and bent to open the freezer compartment. I decided to just load a fudge covered waffle cone with my fav Starbucks ice cream and had just built a three-scoop masterpiece when Winkleman appeared by my side and provoked both a jump and a yelp.

“Oh. Forgive me, my dear. I didn’t think about startling you.”

“It’s okay. Do you want a cone?”

“No.” He gave me a little crooked grin I hadn’t seen before. He’d communicated, more or less, that his customers were usually interested in themselves and seemed to be amused by my interest in him. “I have a conclusive answer.”

“Yeah? What is it?” I licked the side of the cone where a bit of luscious creaminess had liquefied and was threatening to drop.

“The answer is yes. You can use the roulette wheel for a chance to do twice as much good in the world. Are you feeling lucky?”

I laughed. “Winkleman! How could I not feel lucky? Look around.Thiswas the experience. Like you said, it was designed for me, and it’s beensomuch fun.”

“Well, then.” He gestured for me to go first. I knew the way so leading was not a problem. “Does the roulette club have rules about not bringing ice cream?”

For the first time, my guide laughed out loud and looked like he’d been surprised by the experience. “You may bring anything you wish, Mary Marie Campbell.”

Standing over the roulette table, Winkleman produced a green chip and a red chip. “The green chip is school lunches all around. The red chip is quality of life for your father’s remaining years. I’ll let you spin the wheel. If the ball lands on an evennumber, all offers are withdrawn. If the ball, lands on an odd number, you will have successfully doubled your options and made your dad and a whole lot of other humans happier and healthier.”

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