by Sarah Noffke
Willow smoothed back a gray hair that had been knocked out of her loose bun by the springtime breeze. She simply didn’t know how to fix things. Staring around her office, she looked without seeing, her eyes running over the hand-knitted blankets draped over the overstuffed mint green armchair and the many doilies that covered the coffee and side tables. For a long minute, she stared at the painting on the opposite wall, not seeing the shimmering pond and geese in the picture.
The office reeked of the feel of a grandmother—down to the bowl of butterscotch on the corner of Willow’s desk and the musty smell that wafted from the armoire when it was opened. That’s where the headmistress kept the baby blue silk gowns that were the uniform of their graduates and students. The distinction between the two was the graduates wore a large pink bow tied under their chins. It had been a long time since Willow had given one of those out. It had been too long since they had a graduate at Happily Ever After.
The knock at the door made Willow start. She calmed herself and took a breath before politely saying, “It’s open. Come in.”
A woman with short black hair and wise eyes entered, wearing a blue silk gown identical to Willow’s, tied at the neck with the large pink bow.
“To what do I owe the honor of your visit, Professor Mae Ling?” Willow asked, sliding her lavender-scented stationery away. Writing to Saint Valentine could wait. She’d been putting it off, so what was another day?
The small woman coughed, her eyes full of uncertainty. “Marylou Goodwin has returned from her case, and she fears that the results aren’t ideal.”
Willow pressed her lips together and nodded. “I suspect she wants to give me her report directly, then?”
“I think she wants to do more than that,” Mae Ling said carefully.
The implications of her underlying message hung in the air.
“Take a seat,” Willow offered, indicating a large armchair on the other side of her desk.
Straight away, the small woman swept into the room and slid elegantly into the chair. Mae Ling had been with the college since the beginning and had mastered the etiquette that they instilled in their students—the three Ps: Poised, Pretty, and Polite. That was what Prince Charmings were looking for in their potential Cinderellas and, therefore, the artform the fairy godmothers had mastered. But something wasn’t working anymore.
Willow’s eyes slid to the tele-eventor on the corner of her desk. It resembled a tiny typewriter, but it worked on its own, fueled by magic.
“The results of the case haven’t come through yet,” Willow explained, knowing it wouldn’t take long before the device foretold how badly the repercussions of the failed match was. The magitech also gave her details on the cases assigned from Saint Valentine’s office, but lately, the details hadn’t helped her make assignments. What did it matter to Willow if a Cinderella had a ten-year plan before wanting to settle down? She didn’t understand that. All these women and their career goals. It just didn’t make sense that they wanted an education over a man.
Women in the modern world were so strange. For many of them, romance wasn’t a priority. Did these women not get that love was what made the world go around? It wasn’t just about making smart matches resulting in long relationships and happy families. It was bigger than that. Relationships had far-reaching effects that affected the world at large for centuries. Mother Nature had made that abundantly clear when she put Willow in charge of Happily Ever After three-hundred years ago.
“When do you want my help reviewing the new enrollment applications?” Willow asked, deciding that it would be better to deal with Marylou’s situation after good news.
The look that crossed Mae Ling’s face made her hope plummet. “I’ve already finished them.”
Willow blinked at her in confusion. “Say what? But I thought—”
“There weren’t any applications,” Mae Ling interrupted, her tone apologetic.
“How is that possible?” Willow demanded. “Not a single applicant wants to attend the college this year?”
Mae Ling shook her head.
Willow sat back, absentmindedly looking out at the pristine grounds of the college. It was full of grassy lawns and fruit trees, but not even the songbirds made her feel better right then.
“If I may,” Mae Ling began. “I don’t think it’s that fairies no longer want to become fairy godmothers.”
Willow brought her gaze back to the professor. “I don’t understand.”
Mae Ling carefully slipped her thick black hair behind her ear. She was one of the few who didn’t adorn the grayish-blue hair associated with fairy godmothers, but she’d always been a bit of a rebel like that. Willow trusted her to help her see what she was missing. “I get the impression that fairies don’t want to become like us.”
That wasn’t the response Willow had expected. She glanced in the mirror she kept on her desk that reminded her to smile when making phone calls. “Why not?”
“Well, for one, we look old,” Mae Ling explained.
“We are old,” Willow argued.
The other woman nodded. “Yes, but we make ourselves look that way well before our time.”
“It’s supposed to encourage our charges to trust us.” Willow didn’t see the relevant point here. “How will a Cinderella know we have their best interests at heart if we don’t remind them of their trustworthy grandmothers?”
Mae Ling toggled her head back and forth. “Maybe in this day and age, there are other ways.”
“Like what?” Willow questioned.
To that, Mae Ling didn’t seem to have an answer. She shrugged.
Willow sighed. “So the modern fairy doesn’t want to have gray hair and a refined appearance. I guess I can get over that. But I don’t understand why we have zero applications.”
“It might also have to do with the requirements,” Mae Ling stated diplomatically.
“Requirements?” Willow asked. “What’s wrong with them?”
“Well,” Mae Ling began. “Finding a fairy over one-hundred years old who has a perfect track record and years of charity work isn’t as easy as it used to be.”
“Why ever not?” Willow demanded.
“Because modern fairies aren’t perfect,” Mae Ling answered at once. “They have a different life than the ones we had. The world they are growing up in is different from ours. Frankly, I don’t think that what we do and how we do it appeals to them.”
“These are a lot of problems you’re bringing to me,” Willow said, but deep down, she knew Mae Ling was right and was happy to hear it from her before it came from Saint Valentine.
“I know this isn’t easy, but I think we have some opportunities if we adapt our recruitment efforts along with marketing techniques, and change the college’s image and curriculum, of course.”
Willow’s mouth popped open. “What’s wrong with our curriculum?”
Before Mae Ling could answer, the tele-eventor beeped on the headmistress’s desk. The possible results of the recent case were about to be foretold. Willow pretended like she wasn’t anxious to see what the little white paper the machine churned out would say. Instead, she glanced at Mae Ling, her expression demanding an answer to her question.
“The curriculum is simply not working,” Mae Ling explained. “Teaching manners and traditional dating practices seems ineffective in this modern age, but that’s as much as I know. I can’t offer you much on how we should adapt because I don’t know. I’m not well versed in the world outside of Happily Ever After.”
Willow nodded as the tele-eventor spun out its message. She read it, and her heart dropped in her chest. The result of Amelia Rose not matching with her Prince Charming, Grayson McGregor, was much worse than she could have anticipated.
“Send Marylou in here,” Willow stated. “We need to deal with this and quickly before things get worse.” What she didn’t say, was before Saint Valentine found out and she lost the only job she’d ever had or wanted.
Chapter Five
Willow reread the small piece of paper the tele-eventor had spewed out. It was hard to process potential results like this. It read: “Match failure will cause corporate rivalries, creating environmental instability, job loss, and dramatic economic devastation.”
One of those was bad enough, but all three were huge. There was no way this was going unnoticed by Saint Valentine. Amelia Rose and Grayson McGregor belonged together, and anything less would prove detrimental.
The headmistress of Happily Ever After College expected the fairy godmother to start with an apology. What she said first was not something Willow was ready for.
“I’m quitting,” Marylou said, her voice and expression stern.
The abruptness gave Willow pause. Her brown eyes slid to Mae Ling in the corner before coming back to the fairy godmother. “I understand that mistakes have been made and you’re frustrated.”
“I’m tired,” Marylou corrected. “My body is tired. My mind is overwhelmed. And I’m frustrated that I keep failing at my cases.”
Willow understood with a nod. “It has come to my attention that we could use some improvements in our methods. Maybe the ways we’ve done things before aren’t effective.”
“They absolutely aren’t,” the fairy godmother dared to say.
Trying not to take the blunt observation personally, Willow smiled. “We just need to find out how to help the modern woman and adapt our practices. That will take some re-educating for our fairy godmothers. It’s going to involve us changing.”
“I agree,” Marylou said, untying the pink bow from under her chin and letting the blue hood fall back to show her head of grayish-blue curls. “However, this old fairy isn’t interested in being a part of that change.”
“But…” Willow trailed away, her heart breaking. Marylou was one of her best fairy godmothers…worse was that she was one of her last. Many had retired, some had quit, and too many recently had been fired.
The results were on the news every single day as matches weren’t made and chaos was the result. When two lovers didn’t find each other, they inevitably found something else, and it was rarely something that contributed in a positive way to the world.
“I’m just too old for this,” Marylou went on. “I used to understand how to bring two people together, but more and more, I’m confused by how two perfectly compatible individuals fall in love.” She stuck her hands on her hips with an offended expression on her wrinkled face. “Do you know that some modern women become offended if their Prince Charming wants to pay for their date? How do I manage that situation? It’s outside the scope of my reality.”
Willow nodded. She understood the gap in understanding. Unlike Marylou, she wasn’t out for the count. No, she was ready to adapt if that’s what it took. She might be old, but she didn’t feel it. Maybe she needed a makeover…actually, maybe all of the fairy godmothers did. Mae Ling was right. They didn’t need to look like grandmothers. That had worked back in the day for traditional women. In this day and age, something else might appeal to the Cinderellas and garner their trust.
Willow didn’t know what it would look like, but she could get there if she simply remained open to the idea.
Happily Ever After was out of date and could use a remodel. She glanced around the office that hadn’t changed in over a century. She didn’t know where to start, but wanting to improve was a part of the process, she believed optimistically.
More confounding was how to change the actual school. They needed students, and for that, they needed to change the image and the curriculum. Saint Valentine would have some ideas, but if Willow could go to him with something and show she was already ahead, that would be good.
Willow tapped her fingers on the desk, having forgotten the other two fairy godmothers were still in her company. They were staring at her, waiting for her reply.
She glanced up suddenly, an apologetic expression on her face. “I’m sorry. I was off in thought. I realize there’s no changing your mind on this, Marylou, and I appreciate your many years of service to us.”
Standing, she offered the old woman her hand. Marylou took it and shook politely, as fairy godmothers were taught to do, displaying feminine daintiness.
Willow was about to say something else when the rotary phone on her desk rang, grabbing their attention. It was Saint Valentine. This was it.
She cut her eyes to Mae Ling, and the head professor understood at once. Gingerly, she took Marylou by the shoulders and steered her from the room as the powder-blue phone continued to ring in front of Willow.
She drew a breath, pulling in some much-needed courage as she prepared to answer. Putting off Saint Valentine would do her no good.
Swallowing her fear, she imbued herself with confidence and picked up the phone. “Hello. This is Willow Starr, headmistress of Happily Ever After College.”
Chapter Six
“Hey there.” A gruff voice that didn’t match Saint Valentine’s sultry tone echoed from the other side of the line. “It’s Detective Nicholson.”
Willow was relieved it wasn’t her boss, but that was followed by trepidation. A call from the lead detective for the Fairy Law Enforcement office rarely brought her good news. “Is this about one of my fairy godmothers?” she asked in a rush and immediately regretted it. “I mean, hello, Detective Nicholson. How are you?”
He chuckled good-naturedly on the other side of the line. “I’m about the same. Overworked, under-caffeinated, and in need of a raise.”
Willow smiled and saw her toothy grin in the mirror in front of her. “Well, as always, I and everyone at the college appreciates your service, John.”
“Same here, same here,” he said with a cautious edge to his voice.
Willow waited for the detective to tell her the nature of his call.
“So, I have a proposition for you,” Detective Nicholson began. “Rumor on the streets is that your enrollment is down.”
It didn’t make the headmistress feel better that those outside the college knew about her problems. Of course, there were far fewer fairy godmothers on the streets these days, so why wouldn’t others have noticed? Especially someone like John, who observed so much in and around the magical communities.
“Well, we are working on our recruitment efforts,” Willow began politely. “It’s something I’m aware of—”
“What if I help you out?” Detective Nicholson interrupted eagerly.
That was unexpected. Willow didn’t know what to say. She’d never needed help in the past.
“You know my niece, Paris Westbridge, right?” John asked.
Willow found her image in the mirror blinking at her in confusion. What did that troublemaker have to do with anything? she wondered. Paris was supposedly a nice fairy but a bit overzealous, often finding herself in the wrong place at the wrong time, in and out of trouble for something or another.
“I remember her.”
“Yeah, she’s a good kid. Just a bit…” Detective Nicholson said before adding, “spirited. She needs discipline, that’s all.”
“I’m not sure what that has to do with our enrollment,” Willow questioned, but on the heels of her statement, it all came together. “Oh,” she said, drawing out the word. “You mean, she…”
“That’s right, Willow,” the detective affirmed. “I was just thinking, you need students, and I need a constructive way to sentence her.”
And there it was, Willow realized. “So, this is like Tooth Fairy College now?”
He chuckled, his tone nervous. “Not quite that desperate. I mean, she’s a great kid, like I said. I think she’d make a good recruit if you taught her right.”
Willow remained quiet, having to come to terms with this new reality. Happily Ever After had always had a few hundred a
pplicants vying for a spot at the college. Tooth Fairy College, also known as Chump-change College, was full of delinquent juveniles the Fairy Law Enforcement agency couldn’t afford to have clogging up their jails. Was that what her fairy godmother college would become?
“I’m just asking for you to give her a try,” Detective Nicholson continued. “If it doesn’t work, then…well, I’ll have to send her to someplace harder.”
Jail, Willow thought. That’s what the well-meaning detective was inferring, and she understood the uncle didn’t want his niece mixed up in that. Once the girl set foot there, things would change for Paris and not for the better. She’d be exposed to the worst criminals, and if she was rebellious before, she’d be hardened afterward.
“I guess we could do it on a trial basis,” Willow said, hearing the uncertainty in her voice and feeling bad about it. John was trying to help her, and the angels above knew she needed it. Drawing a breath, she smiled. “If it works, maybe we can figure something out.” Quickly she added, “I mean, I can’t take those meant to go to jail or Chump-change College, but the less dangerous ones? We’re known for our reform efforts, and maybe this is what we need to modernize ourselves.”
What Willow didn’t say was this might be her last-ditch effort to get students. If she had to take the rougher recruits, they would be better than none at all.
“Great!” Detective Nicholson cheered, a smile in his voice. “Then we have a deal. I’ll send her over…well, if she agrees.”
Willow thanked him and hung up. There were many things she still didn’t know how to fix, but now she had a possible solution to one of her problems.
Looking around the out-of-date office, she hoped she’d figure out how to update the college’s image and solve its curriculum issues.
Chapter Seven
“I’ve got a proposition for you, Pare,” Uncle John said, placing the receiver of the phone back on the cradle. “You’re not going to like it, but hear me out.”