The Magic Touch Page 2

  There was a moment of silence, during which Danny gave a polite cough. “So you’re telling me out of all the fairy godmothers in the world, I get the one who’s on probation?”

  “Listen, honey, I can tell you there’re a lot worse fairy godmothers out there than me.”

  He wasn’t to be deterred. “So what did you do? To get into trouble, I mean?”

  She shifted uncomfortably. “Nothing so bad. I might have been distracted once or twice and let some of my less-bright charges get into a bit of hot water while I was busy elsewhere. There was a little incident of one in particular who suffered a brief lapse of judgment and ran away with the father-of-the-groom on her wedding day. Then there was another minor situation where I let a charge get drunk, shave her head, and take an axe to her boyfriend’s car. The good news is the first girl is now happily married to her would-be father-in-law and the second only has a little jail time left. All in all, no big deal.”

  “And how do I enter in to all of this?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “A couple of bigwigs on the godmother council came up with the crazy notion I wasn’t cut out for godmothering. It was nonsense, but between them they had the power to cut me out of the business forever, unless I complied with a skill test to prove I still have what it takes. The hardest part was coming up with some loser so far gone it would be an all but impossible task to drag him back from the brink.”

  “Someone like me, you mean.”

  “Don’t take it the wrong way. You were one of my charges, anyway, and it was clear you needed intervention of a supernatural sort. So I’ve been changed into low-profile form to come down here and walk you through the steps to lifelong success. If I can accomplish that, no one will ever doubt my talents again.”

  He looked unhappy. “In other words, you get some kind of fairy points for helping me?”

  “Now you’re getting it, sweetheart. So what do you say, are we going to whip you into shape or not?”

  “Not.” He frowned. “Sorry to cut into your plans but I’ve got my own life to live and I think I’m capable of managing it without fairy assistance.”

  As he finished speaking, a small pendulum clock on the end table chimed the hour. Danny glanced at it. “And now, if you don’t mind, tomorrow is a work day and I’ve only got a couple hours left to get in some sleep.”

  She stood. “You’re right, it’s late. We’ll both have clearer heads and be ready for tackling all of this in the morning.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t think so. I prefer to live my life for myself. But,” he said, sticking out a hand, “it’s been, uh, interesting meeting you. I’m sure you’re a lovely fairy and I wish you a lot of success in the godmothering field.”

  She was only half listening as she gathered her wand and bag. “Uh-huh. I won’t be bothering you any more tonight, I’ll just find a place to crash and we’ll talk this out over breakfast. Sweet dreams.”

  He followed her across the room. “Um, where are you going?” he asked.

  She shook out her hair. “Well, the bedroom’s this way, isn’t it? I like my space, so you’ll have to sleep on the couch in the living room. Sweet dreams.” She didn’t give him a chance to protest as she disappeared into the bedroom and shut the door in his face.

  Dropping her purse in the corner, she surveyed the new quarters she’d be living in. The bed was roomy, the furnishings adequate. But she could do better than that. Digging out her glass wand, she mouthed a couple of special spells she knew and transformed the plain surroundings into something a little more to her taste.

  Chapter Four

  Danny didn’t know what it was that woke him a few hours later. One minute he was deep in the middle of some bizarre dream, a weird journey back to his high-school days where Coach Simpson was yelling at him on the basketball court and invisible fairies were giggling at him from the sidelines. The next minute he was airborne, leaping out to make a slam dunk, the likes of which he’d never made in real life. The net was coming closer, he felt light as air, he was sure he was going to make the basket this time…

  And then he came crashing back to earth. The high school gym disappeared and Coach Simpson’s voice in the background faded to nothing. For a brief instant Danny didn’t know up from down. And then his head bashed into something solid and wooden. With a yell, he rolled around until he got his head above the level of his feet again. Dazed and disoriented, he took in his situation and found himself sprawled on the living room floor, his head throbbing from its impact against the edge of the coffee table.

  What was he doing here? It took a moment for the memory of the previous night to sink in. Then he remembered a strange dream about an “I’m a fairy” woman sleeping in his bedroom and him being pushed into a restless night on the narrow living room couch.

  Right. The godmother chick. Was she just another dream? Beneath the broad light of day, any other idea seemed impossible.

  He scrambled to his feet, rubbing at the tender spot on his head, and loped off down the hallway to peer into his bedroom. He expected to find his clothes scattered around the floor and the bed messy but unslept in. What met his eyes instead was nothing short of a nightmare. The godmother woman of his dream was nowhere in sight, but whatever had hit this room had been very real and had left its mark.

  The comfy blue-and-tan plaid comforter he used to bury himself in at night had been replaced by a green-and-brown bedding set with a swirling design and a decidedly hippy-from-the-sixties vibe. Floor-to-ceiling curtains of carved wooden beads separated the bed from the rest of the room, and the theme was continued in swathes of green fabric looped over the dresser.

  The furnishings hadn’t been tampered with, but they had been rearranged to create an open look he didn’t approve of. His clothing and personal belongings seemed to have evaporated. Worst of all was the sight of Brutus, the traitor, sleeping happily, curled up on a tiny, canopied dog bed.

  As Danny stumbled away from the doorway, he asked himself if he could be dreaming even now. Then his ears caught a soft rushing noise from down the hall. Running water. Following the sound, he arrived at the bathroom door just as the water was being shut off. The door stood open a crack.

  Peeking cautiously around the corner, he was met with the sight of a strange woman exiting his shower, wrapped in a blue towel. Her black hair was sleeked away from her face and ran in long, wet strands down her back, a few short, loose tendrils clinging interestingly to her bared neck and shoulders.

  She was busy detangling her wet locks with her fingers but must have caught a fleeting glimpse of his reflection in the mirror. Or possibly it was just some eerie fairy sense that informed her of his presence.

  “About time somebody woke up,” she said.

  He jumped, guiltily, but she didn’t seem concerned about being stumbled upon in a strange man’s bathroom with no more clothing than a wide strip of terrycloth.

  She said, “I thought you were going to sleep the day away. Why don’t you go and get us some coffee and breakfast started? I could use it.”

  Danny found himself at a loss for words. He stepped silently aside as she passed him in the doorway and moved off down the hall. In the kitchen, when he didn’t make a move toward the cabinets she sighed and helped herself, dropping a pair of Pop-Tarts into the toaster and starting up the coffee maker.

  He tried not to stare as she moved around preparing breakfast. Conversation seemed the safest way to ease the awkward lull, although he seemed to be the only one who was uncomfortable.

  “So, you’re real after all,” he said.

  “Did you think I wasn’t?” She brought two coffee mugs down from the cabinet over the sink, moving unhesitatingly, as if already knowing where everything was kept. But then, she would know, wouldn’t she?

  His head ached and he was no longer sure if it was the blow to the head or this whole strange situation that was causing the pain.

  “I thought maybe last night was just a dream,” he admitted. “I figured my im
agination had conjured you up.”

  “Well, that’s very flattering of you, Danny. But, between the two of us, I don’t think your imagination has ever been quite this creative. Even as a kid you didn’t invent imaginary friends like most children do.”

  “Would you stop doing that?” he asked. “Referring to my childhood as if you were sitting around even then, watching me grow up.”

  “But I was.”

  “I know, I know. But I’m not exactly comfortable hearing you talk about little boy Danny like some doting old aunt. Especially not when you’re walking around like…” He let his words trail off and gestured at her partially bared figure.

  She hesitated. “Oh, I see. I didn’t mean to make you feel weird.”

  “Weird isn’t exactly the word I would use.”

  “Okay, okay, I get you. Just give me five minutes to make myself more godmotherly. You better grab the tarts before they burn.”

  And with that, she disappeared into the bedroom.

  She returned quickly, clothed in a different outfit from the one she had been wearing yesterday. He decided not to ask. For all he knew she had an entire wardrobe shrunk down to fit into that tiny handbag of hers. Or maybe she just waved her wand and anything she wanted appeared. He felt queasy thinking about it.

  Today she’d gone for an entirely different look from yesterday’s. She wore a flowing green, ankle-length dress with no sleeves. Leather sandals were on her feet and her curly hair was worn loose, with the top half pulled back into a long side-braid. A beaded leather thong was worked into the braid and between that and the many charms dangling from her wrists and ankles she made a gentle, jingling noise as she walked, reminding him of that children’s rhyme “Rings on her fingers and bells on her toes.” There was a thick string around her neck from which a peace-sign pendant dangled between her breasts. He decided she looked like someone who should be playing bongo drums in the park.

  “Are all fairy godmothers like this?” He indicated the jewelry.

  “What? Peace-lovers? Depends on the godmother. Personally I wake up with a different mood for every day and I dress to fit it. But we all have personalities and preferences as varied as regular people, you know. We’ve even got our mafia fairies.”

  He snorted a laugh that died the instant his gaze fell on the microwave clock behind her. The large blue numbers shot an unpleasant jolt through him.

  “Ten o’clock! Why didn’t you tell me it was so late? I should have been at work hours ago.”

  She shrugged. “You seemed like you needed time to relax.”

  “Relax?” he demanded over his shoulder, scrambling into the living room. “With the department downsizing and my boss looking for the next weak link to cut, do you think I can afford to relax?”

  He didn’t wait for an answer. Where were his shoes? There was no time for a shave, no time to change out of the rumpled clothing he’d slept in. There were the shoes. Triumphantly snagging them out from under the edge of the sofa, he hastily dragged them on before grabbing his cell phone. Snatching his car keys from a hook on the wall, he was halfway out the front door, having all but forgotten the woman he’d left behind in the kitchen.

  She called out to him, “You know, I was thinking you might send Charlotte some roses today.”

  That brought him back. “Whoa, hold on there.” He fixed her with a glare. “I’m pretty sure I’ve said this before, but just to reiterate… stay out of my business. And keep away from Charlotte. I’ll make up with her in my own time and my own way.”

  She shrugged. “Suit yourself. Just don’t leave it so long she thinks you’re going to let her go without a fight. Anyway, have a good day. See you for lunch.”

  He frowned. “I don’t think so, lady. I’ve gotta work through my lunch break if I want to make up for the lost time.”

  She didn’t seem to hear that last part. “I prefer Ambrielle to “lady”. Meet you in the park across from work. I’ll bring Chinese. You know you love it.”

  Shaking his head, he didn’t bother with an answer, instead ducking out into the corridor and closing the door behind him. He didn’t know what this day would bring him, but he had a hunch that, between his irritable boss and the tenacious godmother, by evening he was going to wish he’d never opened his eyes this morning.

  Chapter Five

  Despite arriving late, the morning passed slowly for Danny, and he had time to think about Ambrielle’s warning about Charlotte. He sensed it was too soon for a phone call, but maybe a dozen roses delivered to his ex at work, together with a note of apology, wouldn’t go amiss. He made the order over the phone and promised himself he wouldn’t think about it for the rest of the day, wouldn’t wonder if she’d call when she got the flowers.

  By the time lunchtime rolled around his stomach was rumbling. Maybe, just maybe, he’d break for a bit to eat after all. A glance out the office window revealed a sight he found disturbing. The fairy, true to her word, had shown up and taken a seat in the little park across the street, where she was obviously waiting for him. In fact, the words, “lying in wait” came to mind.

  Against his better judgment, he decided to join her.

  It was a windy day out, and the state flag flying from a pole at the heart of the park snapped smartly on the breeze. Around Danny’s feet, bits of paper litter tumbled freely across the green lawn, propelled by the swirling winds. The grass was still damp from this morning’s light drizzle but now the gray clouds broke. A warm beam of sunshine slanted down from above and seemed to center like a halo over the petite, curly-haired figure waiting patiently on a bench halfway across the park. As he approached, Danny half suspected her of planning the break in the weather just for the benefit of their little picnic. Then he shook his head. Maybe he was losing it.

  She had changed her clothes again - did the woman have an endless wardrobe? The hippy clothing had been replaced by a short white skirt and a fitted blouse, paired with black tights. She had brought Brutus along and the little dog pranced around her feet in a purple sweater the fairy must’ve conjured for him.

  Danny ignored the traitorous little dog. “I told you not to come,” he said by way of welcome, as he sank down onto the stone seat beside Ambrielle.

  She thrust a carton of chow mein into his hands. Chinese, just as she had promised.

  “You knew I wouldn’t listen,” she answered, unfazed by his cold welcome. “Besides, you needed to come out. It’s no good being locked away in a stuffy office on a day like this. You know you hate it.”

  “A day like this? It’s been cold and rainy all morning.” He indicated her purple-striped umbrella leaning against the arm of the bench.

  She waved a hand. “Just a light drizzle. I have a feeling it’s going to clear off and be a lovely day.”

  Mouth already stuffed with warm noodles, he didn’t bother with an answer. What good would it do him?

  She didn’t join in his meal, seeming to have other matters on her mind. “Did you tell him yet?”

  Between mouthfuls, he found room to ask, “Tell who what?”

  She sighed patiently. “Your boss. Did you give your notice yet?”

  He nearly spat out his chow mein. “Notice? Who said anything about giving notice?”

  “I did last night. Remember? We had a discussion about turning your life around and we decided it would be best if you found better work. This job is no good for you.”

  “We discussed? We decided? As I remember it, you did a lot of talking and I listened. This is my life, you know. You don’t get to make these decisions for me.”

  She raised a brow. “Alright, then. What have you decided to do about your situation?”

  “I wasn’t aware I had a situation. I’m fine with the way things are. The world is still turning and will be tomorrow, I hope. All I have to do is persuade Charlotte to get over our little misunderstanding and my life is back where I want it. End of story. I’m afraid I don’t see where you fit into any of that.”

  She shook h
er head, tucking a strand of loose hair behind one ear. The wind whipped it out again and she let it be. “I told you I hate to repeat myself. Don’t make me explain what’s wrong with your life all over again. Denial isn’t going to get you anywhere.”

  “I am not in denial. I’m realistic about my life and you’re not, that’s all. Not everybody gets to live in a fantasy world, where they have the perfect life, the dream job…”

  “And where they get their old girlfriend back?”

  He returned his attention to the food. You let me worry about that,” he said. “I’ve got the thing with Charlotte covered.”

  “I’m sure you do. No doubt in that peanut-sized brain of yours, you’ve even got a plan for how you’re going to work it all out, your way.”

  “As a matter of fact, I do.”

  “My plan is better.” She sighed in an it’s-your-funeral way.

  “Not interested.” Before further debate could ensue, he cut her off with, “You haven’t tried your fried rice yet. What’s the matter, don’t fairies ever eat?”

  She shrugged narrow shoulders. “If we want. It’s not a necessity for us like it is for you guys. Food and drink are something we take for the enjoyment, not for the need of it. Why? Would it make you more comfortable if I joined you?”

  “Much more comfortable,” he said, covering up the unease her words stirred within him. This whole situation was too unreal. It was bad enough to be sitting on a park bench chatting with his godmother—his freaking fairy godmother. How was a guy supposed to handle that?

  He watched her pick through the takeout bag at her feet. She had pretty, delicate little feet inside black lace-up sandals. Tiny silver charms dangled around her toes and ankles and jingled when she moved. It had been a long time since he’d found any woman other than Charlotte attractive, but…