by Erica Ridley
“That would be Garrett.” Lindsay plopped down onto a wooden bench. “At first I thought he was just Mr. Right Now, if you know what I mean, but after our one night stand stretched into months, I realized he really was Mr. Right. I can’t imagine life without him.”
“How do you know he’s the one?”
“Well,” Lindsay began, her eyes unfocusing and her dimples showing. “He’s incredibly sweet. Every week, he sends flowers to the retirement home where I work as a CNA.”
“Isn’t that a lot of flowers?”
Lindsay shook her head, eyes glistening. “He doesn’t send them to me—he sends them to my ladies. They’ve been widows for decades, and many don’t have family any more. Garrett signs all his cards, ‘Love, Your Secret Admirer.’ You should hear them giggle like school girls.”
Daisy had to admit—Garrett didn’t sound like a bad guy. Which was good, since her mechanical wand couldn’t conjure True Love. Nobody could. She was just supposed to help him realize he already had it. Fate would take it from there. Once True Love had been established, there was no magic powerful enough to interfere.
She glanced down at her mechanical wand. Hopefully Lindsay just needed something basic, like glass slippers or your garden variety pumpkin carriage. Maybe a circus tent or two.
“How’s your relationship?” she ventured. “Do the two of you get along?”
“Like vanilla ice cream and hot apple pie.” Lindsay drew her knees up under her chin and hugged her shins. “We always have. I love him and he loves me. I love his family and they love me.”
Maybe she wouldn’t even need a wand. So far, this was sounding like the easiest assignment ever. “Then what’s the problem?”
“My family. I’m an only child, and they’re convinced no one will ever be good enough for their little girl. That might not be so bad except that Daddy actually came right out and said to Garrett that he hoped I’d find somebody better to marry.”
Daisy sat on the other side of the bench to mull the situation. “Did Garrett propose?”
Lindsay shook her head. “He doesn’t want to drive a wedge between me and my family. He won’t even consider a future until my father gives his approval. Hell will freeze over before that happens, and I don’t want to wait that long.” A blush crept up her neck. “I can’t wait to wear an engagement ring and show Garrett how proud I’ll be to be his wife.”
“So, you don’t need me to conjure any ball gowns or magical coaches or pots of gold,” Daisy said slowly.
“Nope,” Lindsay agreed. “Garrett likes me just the way I am. All I need is for Daddy to give him a chance. Just because he drives a truck for Meals on Wheels doesn’t mean we’ll be miserable. We don’t need money. We’ve got love.”
Ignoring the pangs in her belly, Daisy reached under her cloak for her wand. She didn’t envy this girl. Not in the least. Lindsay fell off exercise bikes, had a controlling father, a boyfriend who sent too many flowers, and she was desperate enough to rely on a fairy godmother to solve her problems.
Why, she was to be pitied, poor girl. Daisy certainly wasn’t jealous.
“Okay,” she said, rising to her feet. “I’ll try.”
“Oh, thank you.” Lindsay’s dimples dipped on both sides of a sunny grin, her cheek pressed against her bent knee. “My life will be perfect once I can share it with Garrett.”
Perfect. Humph.
So what if nobody ever sent flowers to Daisy. She lived above a field. If she wanted some flowers, she’d go pick them herself. Besides, she was far too busy for romantic drivel like roses and boxes of chocolate. Matter of fact, she was too busy to worry about men in the first place. Especially a human named Trevor who no longer remembered her. All that was in the past. She had a promising new career to concentrate on.
“Here goes nothing.” She tapped her wand against the top of Lindsay’s head.
Shimmering pixie dust filled the air. A spark from the pointed star shot sideways and singed a strand of Lindsay’s hair. And then there was silence.
“Is that it?” Lindsay asked after a moment, fingering her burnt hair. “Did you do it?”
“I don’t know,” Daisy answered honestly. “Can you check?”
“Like how? Call Daddy up and ask him?” She fumbled at her waist for a rectangular cellphone, made swirly gestures on the glass, and held the receiver to her ear. “Yeah, hi, Daddy, it’s Linds. Yes, still at the gym. Hey, listen, I was just wondering…” She swallowed hard and then made eye-contact with Daisy, who forced an encouraging smile. “Yeah, I was just wondering if you happened to change your mind about Garrett. You’ll never change your mind?” Lindsay’s initial expression of abject despair was quickly replaced by joy. “You can’t wait for him to be your son-in-law and don’t know why I’ve waited this long? No, I’m not repeating everything you say. I gotta go. Love you. Bye.” The phone fell from her hands. She knocked Daisy into the adjacent lockers with the force of her sudden bear hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
“Sure,” Daisy said, reminding herself to be pleased she’d facilitated someone else’s Happy Ever After. “Any time. Tell your friends.”
If only it were that easy to solve her own problems.
Chapter 26
Daisy materialized in Maeve’s barn later that morning to find the interior filled wall-to-wall with people and balloons. Colorful bubble letters reading, “Congratulations, Daisy!” draped around a chocolate fountain. Soft gypsy music played in the background.
“Hey, everybody,” Maeve yelled when she caught sight of Daisy. “Look who’s here!”
Dozens of voices spoke at once as Daisy found herself surrounded by friends, family, former coworkers, old neighbors and schoolmates—even Mr. Squatch was there, tipping back a glass of something green and sludgy.
Maeve cantered over and nudged Daisy’s shoulder with her muzzle.
Daisy threw her arms around her best friend’s neck. “What’s this all about?”
“A show of support!” Maeve whinnied excitedly. “We’re all so proud of you. Your mom said most of the fairy godmother trainees went home in tears. Not you, superstar! You came home with your first notch on your wand. We’re all fighting over who gets to stand up as your sponsor during the wing ceremony.”
Daisy smiled shyly. “I’ve got two more missions to go, so don’t put the chariot before the horse.” She patted Maeve’s neck. “But if I get that far, I want you, of course. And Mama.”
Maeve nickered happily. “Tell me all about fairy godmothering. Any—” She glanced around as if to make sure nobody spied on them through the balloons—”wand issues?”
“After five short years of spending every free moment experimenting in my private lab, I finally worked out all the kinks. I helped a client unite with her One True Love.” Daisy grinned. “It was awesome.”
“You facilitated your first Happily Ever After.” Maeve’s ears wiggled. “How cool is that? I imagine you’re bursting at the seams with joy.”
“Bursting. I can barely believe it.”
Across the barn, her mother stood in conversation with some of Daisy’s old schoolmates, some of whom had teased her mercilessly for her fake wings and unmagical nature. Mama was no doubt making them eat their words.
Dad was walking toward a tray of brownies when Mr. Squatch lumbered into him. Dad’s wings instinctively unfurled. The punch bowl tipped. Feathers covered the brownies.
Mr. Squatch ate them anyway.
Wand in hand, Daisy started over to help put things to rights—imagine! For once she’d be cleaning a mess, rather than making it—when Maeve moved to stop her progress.
“Forgive me for saying so,” she said, her voice hesitant. “But a few days ago, you were bursting with more angst than joy. I hoped that would change, but you still seem… incomplete. Are you sure you made the right decision?”
Daisy pretended not to understand. “Are you kidding? Being a fairy godmother trainee is so much better than being an apprentice tooth fairy. I ho
pe Vivian falls into her own moat.”
“Not that decision.” Maeve paused, tail flicking. “I meant, are you sure you made the right relationship decision? I’m just not sure picking magic over love is… you.”
The familiar emptiness threatened to spread from Daisy’s stomach, but she squashed the feeling down.
“Nobody said anything about love. Besides, it’s too late for that. For all I know, Trevor has a new girlfriend already.” Daisy gripped her wand even tighter as a cold shiver slid down the back of her neck. Just the thought of Trevor making love to some human… “Besides, achieving a magical status has always been my first priority. I wore fake wings for two decades because I wanted them so bad.”
“I thought it meant you had bad fashion sense,” Maeve said as she flicked her tail at a passing balloon. “I didn’t think it meant you were stupid.”
Daisy crossed her arms, hurt. “Why are you throwing me a party if you think I’m so stupid?”
“I’m throwing you a party because you’re my best friend. I’m throwing you a party because you walked away from Vivian Valdemeer, you worked your tail off in that lab, and you’re two missions away from earning wings. I’m throwing a party because according to you, you’re about to have everything you ever wanted.”
Daisy fought the pricking in her eyes. “I have to be proud of me first, before I can expect anyone else to be. I have to prove myself. Earn my own respect. Be someone on my own before giving that up to be part of someone else. I thought you understood.”
Maeve gazed at her for a long moment. “Look, you’re not stupid. I’m sorry I said that. You’re a brilliant neurophysicist and you’ll no doubt be a brilliant fairy godmother, too. Everyone here is proud of you. Some of them are surprised, but not me, and not your parents. I’ve known you long enough to know you can do anything you set your mind to. I’m just not sure you’ve set your mind to the right thing.”
With a click of her hooves, Maeve turned and lumbered to the other side of the barn, apparently through with their conversation.
Daisy stood alone, hanging out by herself in the middle of her own party.
Fine. She didn’t need Maeve to have a good time. Nor did she need Trevor. She just… missed him.
She laid awake every night, replaying every moment of their time together, reliving the feel of his lips against hers, the taste of his kisses, the scent of his cologne. But so what? He might be the man of her dreams, but dreams weren’t real.
The wand in her hand was real, something she’d made, something she could touch, something she could keep. Fairy Godmothering was real, an amazing opportunity to unite hearts and change lives. This party was real, a taste of the celebration to come when she finally earned her wings.
A floating green balloon popped near Daisy’s head, startling her. She pointed her wand at the floating scraps, righting them instantly. She nudged the reformed balloon with one hand, and it coasted away. She stared at her mechanical wand. See? She had magic.
She just hadn’t expected it to feel so empty.
Back in the office, Trevor was drowning in grainy faxes and a few hundred megabytes of email attachments. Thank God for leads, because the tenure meeting was one day away.
He shoved the half-graded pile of final exams to one side of his desk in order to pull his monitor closer. He forgot to breathe when he caught sight of something small and shiny over by the window. Small and shiny and silver and round and suspiciously familiar.
The ring.
The last time he’d seen the silver band, it had been in his living room. It now sat in the center of his windowsill. How did it get here? Maybe it wasn’t even the same ring. Theoretically, someone could’ve misplaced their jewelry. A student, the janitorial staff, a colleague.
Maybe… but Trevor wasn’t that lucky.
Despite his best efforts to do otherwise, his gaze continued to slide in the direction of the early morning light slanting through his window.
The ring was still there.
He forced himself to face his monitor, not the window. Although his eyes should've been focusing on the messages overflowing his Inbox, they snuck a quick peek toward the otherwise bare windowsill.
The ring was still there.
Damn it. How was he going to get any work done today with that stupid ring sitting there, mocking him?
With a Herculean amount of effort, he dragged his gaze back to the computer screen.
When images of the items alleged to be aboard Angus’s ship hadn’t panned out, he’d turned his focus to the trading company, and requested every historian on the planet to send him examples of items shipped via that company.
Even if the photographs in no way resembled the pottery he and his team had uncovered, well then, at least he’d know. He wouldn’t know about Angus, but he’d sure know he wasn’t getting tenure.
He glanced up from the flat screen and jumped when his window came back into view. The ring was still there. Haunting him. Taunting him. Making him apeshit crazy.
He swiveled his seat so he wouldn’t be distracted by the silver band on the windowsill. He’d had enough distractions to last him a lifetime.
Not that his relationship with a certain blonde distraction was in any danger of lasting a lifetime. They’d barely lasted a few weeks before she’d decided—twice!—that she’d rather erase his memory than spend another moment with him. When fairies broke up with humans, they were pretty hardcore about it.
With a muttered curse, Trevor gave up on forgetting. Even with his back to that stupid ring, Daisy was still the only thing on his mind.
He began scrolling through PDF after PDF of photographs and scanned images. Stoneware, yes. His, no. Next. This pottery couldn’t look any less like the shards he’d uncovered. Next. Nuh-uh. Next. Dammit. Next. No go. Next. Neat stuff, but nothing like his. Next.
This was stupid.
He was stupid.
Of course he hadn’t found Angus the Explorer. He was fooling himself because he’d wanted it so badly. To keep his job. To make tenure. To beat Berrymellow.
Doggedly, he kept paging through each attachment. Nope. Next. Still no. Next. Not even close. He opened the second-to-last email, almost ready to chuck the whole project into the trash. Instead, he glanced at the next image.
And stared.
A strange half-cry, half-wheeze burst from his throat. He stared some more, rotating the photograph and zooming in for a closer view.
The pottery itself didn’t look like his. Not even close. But the design stamped onto the undersides—the intricate crest stained into the ancient stoneware—was a dead match for one of the pieces in his lab.
Holy mother of God.
Excitement skittered through his veins. He couldn’t wait to see Daisy’s face when he told her they’d actually—
No. Those days were gone.
His career had always been his life, and that didn’t look like it would change any time soon. In fact, he could finally publish. Not in time for tomorrow’s tenure meeting, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t share the good news with Dr. Papadopoulos. She was only one vote toward his tenure, but she held his inter-departmental coaching position in her hands.
Trevor’s gaze turned to the small glittering ring. Instead of making him nostalgic, the reminder of his loss grated on raw nerves. Ignoring the pull of the silver band, he headed out the door to find his boss.
Time to move forward with his life.
Half an hour later, Trevor tried to slip into his office alone, despite Berrymellow buzzing around him like a redheaded gnat in a bolo tie.
“Where were you?” Berrymellow demanded. “What were you doing in Dr. Papadopoulos’s office?”
“If you knew where I was, why bother asking?” Trevor pointed out.
“I don’t trust you.” Berrymellow ran pale fingers through his thinning hair. “You’re up to something. What did you say to her?”
“Nothing.” Trevor gave up on preventing him from entering the office. He cross
ed over to his desk to sit down. “She wasn’t there.”
“Ha.” Berrymellow’s eyes widened. “You are up to something. I knew it.”
“Goody for you. Why don’t you go write a paper about it?”
“You don’t have any idea what makes for good research,” Berrymellow said with a sniff. “I don’t think you—what’s this?”
“What’s what?” Trevor asked, turning to follow Berrymellow’s line of sight. “Don’t touch it!” He almost killed himself leaping to the window and blocking the sill before the nosy schmuck had a chance to inspect the item still sitting on it.
“Why do you have a ring on your window ledge?” Berrymellow asked, leaning toward the right.
“No reason.” Trevor shifted to block his view.
Berrymellow leaned to the left. “Is it a wedding band?”
Trevor’s arms snaked across his chest. “No.”
Berrymellow’s lip curled. “You’re not proposing to your professor girlfriend with that thing, are you?”
“No!”
“It doesn’t even have a diamond.”
“It is not an engagement ring,” Trevor said through gritted teeth.
Berrymellow’s eyes narrowed. “Who’s it for?”
“Nobody.”
“Then why are you so defensive about it?”
“I’m not.” Trevor uncrossed his arms and forced them to his sides, trying to effect an indifferent pose.
Berrymellow smirked. “Let me see it, then.”
“No.” Trevor curved his hands around Berrymellow’s shoulders and pivoted him toward the hallway.
“Don’t be like that. Let me see it.”
“Goodbye.” Trevor steered him through the door.
“Know what I think? I think you’re planning a proposal.”
“Think it somewhere else.” Trevor shoehorned him into the hall. “This is my office.”