The Worst Fairy Godmother Ever!

by Sarah Aronson

  Nora deserved happiness.

  Wishes were never granted by magic alone.

  Happily ever after shouldn’t be that hard.

  She also knew she shouldn’t have visited Nora before she made a real wish. She’d visited her way more than she was supposed to.

  There was only one thing she could do now. Even though she was pretty sure she was doing exactly what her mother would have done, she would keep visiting Nora. At this rate, she had nothing to lose. Nora knew what she could do. She knew what she couldn’t do. Either she made her wish now, or she wasn’t going to ever make a wish.

  Isabelle knew what that meant.

  No sparkles. No wand. No Extravaganza.

  She’d be the worst fairy godmother ever. Even worse than her mother.

  The next day, Isabelle was ready.

  Together, she and Nora headed down the street and into the wooded area by Nora’s house. Nora climbed the path quickly, and Isabelle tried her best to keep up. Nora jumped from rock to rock like she was the one with magical powers.

  “It’s just a few minutes longer,” Nora said. “And just a little bit higher.”

  They walked around tall green trees and patches of wildflowers and even a tiny stream that was ice-cold and crystal clear.

  “It’s beautiful here,” Isabelle said.

  “Just wait,” Nora said.

  Nora pointed to a big patch of blue sky and a very small clearing. In the center was a huge rock big enough to seat two or maybe even three people. Isabelle sat down next to Nora. “This is unbelievable.” The clearing was almost as perfect as her fairy godmother world. “That rock scramble was awesome.”

  “And so was jumping over the creek,” Nora added.

  Isabelle laughed. “Yes! I also liked how you tagged the trees, like you were running a race. I like to do that, too.”

  Nora grinned. “See! I told you this would be better than hanging out with those girlgoyles.”

  Instead of making a fuss, Isabelle thought about how to make the moment better. She pointed her wand at Nora’s backpack. “Are you hungry?” With a quick flick of her wrist, Isabelle directed a small puff of sparkles at the backpack.

  When Nora opened her bag, she found cheeses and breads and chocolates and peaches. “This is perfect! How did you know I was starting to feel hungry?”

  Together, they arranged all the snacks on the rock. “This is every one of my favorite foods! Everything except for ice cream!”

  Together they ate all the treats that Isabelle had poofed into the backpack. They also played cards and admired the view. They picked up pretty rocks and leaves and flowers for Nora’s stepmother, and then they looked for salamanders. Nora found hers first. She wondered, for just a moment, if Isabelle could turn him into a horse. (She couldn’t. Not yet, anyway …)

  Nora put her hands together. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.” She took a deep breath.

  This is it. The wish. Isabelle gripped her wand.

  She could already picture herself at the Extravaganza.

  “I wish … I wish you didn’t have to leave,” Nora said. “Or that I could come visit you.” She got really excited. “Or even better, I wish I could live in the fairy godmother world with you. Then I could run around the fields with you and we could go to the wild place with plants. And we could hop from cloud to cloud, and maybe I could learn to grant wishes, too.”

  This was a nice sentiment, but regular girls were not allowed to visit the fairy godmother world—Isabelle was sure of that. “I’m sorry,” Isabelle said. (And she really was.) “I wish we could do that, too, but it isn’t possible. I don’t get my own wishes. I just get to grant them. I have to follow the rules.”

  Nora nodded like she understood, but now she looked a little less happy.

  This was a problem.

  “Then how about I wish for more wishes? Like maybe a thousand wishes?” Nora said. But she was smart. The second she said it, she took it back. “I guess that’s against the rules, too?”

  Isabelle thought they’d been over this rule before. Hadn’t Nora been listening? “The other godmothers were done right away,” she grumbled. “Even Minerva. And she’s really old.” Before she could stop herself, she added, “I’ll never make it to Level Two at this rate!”

  Nora dropped the salamander she’d been holding. (Don’t worry. He was fine.) A curious expression came over her face.

  “Now I get it,” she said. “Helping me is some kind of test. And if you pass, you get to get rid of me, right?”

  Isabelle tried to deny it, but it was sort of true. “That’s not exactly how this works.” She wasn’t sure how to explain the rules without breaking some kind of fairy godmother code or hurting Nora’s feelings.

  “So it is a test.” Nora stood up and took a step away from Isabelle. “You’re no better than all the girls in my class.” She began to pack up the backpack as fast as she could. “What do I have to do so you can go back to the other godmothers and your precious girlgoyles that can’t even do anything? Because I’ll do it. I’ll do it right now.” When Isabelle didn’t move, she started walking away. “You know, I was just fine before you showed up. Why don’t you just leave me alone?”

  Then she took off down the trail. Fast.

  Isabelle slumped down on the rock and watched Nora disappear. She had messed up big-time. And now there was only one thing she could do.

  Back in her room, Isabelle prepared to grovel. She brushed her hair and pulled on her nicest skirt. She ripped the plastic wrapping off her fairy godmother books, gathered them up, and walked down the hall until she stood in front of her sister’s door. Then she knocked. “Are you in there, sweetest, smartest, most wonderful, most beautiful, greatest fairy godmother ever?” Flattery worked on Clotilda. “Can I ask you a question? It’s really very important.”

  Clotilda opened her door and told her to sit down. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I saw everything through the spyglass. Grandmomma can’t say you didn’t try.”

  “Try” was one way to put this total disaster of a day.

  Isabelle refused to let her sister see her cry. “Nora’s miserable! And it’s because of me.” She steadied her chin in what she considered a brave sort of way. “And don’t tell me it’s because she’s a regular girl. It’s not! She’s just serious. But she’s good, too. And nice. She wants to make the world a better place. She deserves to be happy.”

  Clotilda dabbed her eye with a hankie. “That is just so beautiful, Isabelle. I didn’t think it was possible, but you have come to care about your regular girl.”

  Isabelle wished she’d stop calling Nora a regular girl. Nora was not regular. But now wasn’t the time. “The problem is she doesn’t know what she wants to wish for,” she said in her sweetest voice possible. “What would you have done for Melody if she hadn’t known?”

  Now Clotilda looked confused. “I don’t understand.”

  “I mean, what would you have done if Melody had wished for something you couldn’t grant?” When she saw that Clotilda didn’t think this was possible, she added, “Hypothetically, of course. That would never happen to you, since you are such an amazing fairy godmother and would never get stuck in a total pickle like me.”

  Clotilda still looked puzzled, but Isabelle could see she appreciated the compliment. “You must be overthinking this. Grandmomma would never have given you a practice princess you couldn’t make happy.”

  Isabelle agreed with this in theory. “And yet, even though I’ve visited her way too many times, she hasn’t wished for anything that I can make come true.”

  Clotilda patted her on the back. “Well, you must be overlooking something. That’s all there is to it,” she said. “Have you looked in the Wish List? Or your rule book?”

  Isabelle had to come clean. “I never read the book,” she mumbled.

  Clotilda shook her head but didn’t look surprised. “Didn’t I warn you …” she started to say, but then (thankfully) she stopped. “We
ll then, we can’t worry about that now. All that matters is that you are smart and strong and care about Nora. And you don’t have a lot of time. Tell me everything about her. There has to be something you’re missing.”

  As Isabelle described Nora and everything they’d done, Clotilda rifled through the book. Isabelle hoped there was a chapter on unusual princesses. Or princesses who liked nature but didn’t care about dresses. Or fairy godmothers who didn’t read the book and still made it through training.

  Then Isabelle remembered Nora’s box. And the picture of her mother. And she felt even worse, if that was possible.

  “What’s the point of pretending? I’m just like Mom. I might as well give up now and turn in my wand.”

  “Over my perfect princess.” Clotilda clamped her hand over Isabelle’s mouth until she promised to be quiet. “Listen, I should have told you this before, but our mother was not all bad. Even when that stupid princess wasn’t happy, she kept trying. She loved her almost as much as she loved us. If you’re like her, that’s a good thing. And she would be very proud of you right now.”

  It was the sappiest, nicest thing Clotilda had ever said!

  Clotilda peeked outside her bedroom door to make sure Grandmomma wasn’t snooping around. “Let’s start from the beginning. What have you tried so far?”

  Isabelle told her about the rabbit. And the questions. “You can’t just tell me what to do?”

  “Sorry.”

  “She’s really mad.”

  Clotilda did not agree. “Are you sure? Did she tell you never to come back?”

  “No.”

  “Then she’s not mad. She’s just hurt. And in the regular world, that means she wants you to come back and try again. And that means there’s still hope. Give her a little time to cool down, then bright and early tomorrow show up and apologize. Forget about the Extravaganza for now. And this time, focus. Listen to her. You’re my little sister, and I know you can fix this!”

  That night, Isabelle climbed the tower to sit with the girlgoyles. She looked out at the star-filled sky and the bright moon. Tonight, the moon looked like a crescent.

  She loved this place. Her whole life, she had wanted to be a real fairy godmother.

  But now she wanted something more than that.

  She wanted Nora to be happily ever after. If she couldn’t make that happen in time, it didn’t matter. If she didn’t pass Level One and couldn’t go to the Extravaganza, she could deal with it. As long as Nora got what she wanted.

  She whispered, “What should I do?” and “Are you out there?” Then a little louder, “Do you see me?”

  And then she stood very still and listened. For a moment, she thought she heard her name. It sounded like the voice she’d been longing to hear her entire life. Her mother’s voice.

  Isabelle didn’t move.

  At first, the voice felt very far away. Like a whisper. But then it got louder, until she could understand what was actually happening. It wasn’t her mother; it was Nora.

  Nora was making a wish!

  Isabelle turned to the girlgoyles. “I know how to make Nora happy. I know what she wants!”

  Of course, the girlgoyles said nothing. But it didn’t matter. Isabelle didn’t need their advice.

  Nora was not the kind of girl who wanted simple things, like a dress or a bike or even sparkly shoes. She was way too young for a crush. She had been so busy saving the world, she never took the time to wish for herself.

  And that was a good thing—mostly because Isabelle couldn’t even turn fruit into a strawberry hot-fudge sundae (Nora’s favorite). She had to be honest about that.

  But now that didn’t matter.

  Nora had made her wish. And Isabelle had heard her. Loud and clear. Tomorrow, Isabelle was going to make Nora happily ever after.

  She held the girlgoyles’ hands and hugged them like they were real. “Wish me luck.”

  The next day, Isabelle arrived at Nora’s house earlier than usual.

  She found her stepmother in the kitchen. She was making bread with white chocolate and apricots. “Would you like a slice?” she asked.

  “I would love one.”

  Mrs. Silverstein smiled. She was still humming and singing and dancing around the kitchen like an old-fashioned storybook princess.

  “Did you and Nora have a fight?” Nora’s stepmother asked.

  Isabelle nodded. She had to admit it was one she didn’t fully understand. “I think I hurt her feelings. Did she tell you anything about it?”

  Nora’s stepmom wouldn’t explain. “If she wants you to know, she’ll tell you.” (This made her a very good stepmother, but not very useful to Isabelle.)

  Isabelle knew she had to act fast. “Did she go back to the woods?”

  Mrs. Silverstein handed her three pieces of bread. “Actually, I asked her to take her brother to the park.”

  As Isabelle opened the door, Nora’s stepmother said, “Good luck, Isabelle! Whatever Nora said, I’m sure she didn’t mean it. You are a good friend. Just the kind I wished Nora would meet.”

  Isabelle stopped in her tracks. “Wished for?” she repeated.

  Nora’s stepmom nodded. “I actually did. On a shooting star! It sounds a little silly to say out loud, but when I saw it, I couldn’t resist.”

  “Not silly at all,” Isabelle whispered. Everything began to fall into place for Isabelle. A shooting star wish was very old, very powerful magic.

  When Isabelle got to the park, it was full of people. Gregory was playing on the curly slide. Nora was sitting under a tree with her arms crossed over her chest.

  She was alone. She looked miserable.

  Isabelle sat down next to her. She was going to say something, but then a few girls wandered over to say hello. They wanted to know who Isabelle was and what she was doing there.

  Nora didn’t look happy to see Isabelle. “She’s my lousy fairy godmother.”

  This made the girls laugh, like Nora had made a hilarious joke. “No really, are you cousins? Why don’t you come and hang out with us? We’re going to walk to the library.”

  Even though Isabelle was a little insulted—she thought all girls believed in fairy godmothers—she saw this moment as a big opportunity. “Sure,” she said, jumping up, but Nora turned stiff as a girlgoyle.

  “Go ahead. Have a grand time.” Nora sat there with her arms still crossed and her fists balled up. “But I’m going to stay here.”

  Isabelle told the girls they’d see them later. “What’s the matter?” she asked Nora, sitting back down. “Those girls didn’t seem that bad. In fact, they seemed pretty nice.”

  Nora didn’t want to explain. “I said you can go without me if you want. Maybe you can grant their wishes and get your promotion. Maybe they’ll be almost as fun as your girlgoyles.”

  Isabelle sat down. She had a lot of important things to say. “First of all, I’m sorry,” she told Nora. “I acted like you were a test question, and you’re not. You think I don’t want to be friends with you, but I do.”

  Nora nodded, but she still looked mad. Or maybe sad. She got up and brushed herself off and told her brother they were leaving. “I just want to go home. If you want to find someone else, it’s okay with me.”

  Isabelle followed her. She was not about to give up now. She said, “You can’t get rid of me.” And “You can tell me anything.” And “I was so happy when you showed me the box.”

  As they walked, Isabelle picked up some cans. Gregory found ten pennies and a lizard. Nora looked down at the ground. She didn’t pick up any garbage. She didn’t say anything until they got home.

  They climbed the tree so they could talk in total privacy. “Those girls used to be my best friends,” Nora said finally. “They used to come to my house every single day. We took hikes together. We ate snacks together. But then one day, something changed. I still don’t know what. One day, we were climbing my tree. The next day, they cared about other things. They didn’t want to talk to me. That’s why I g
ot so mad when you told me about the girlgoyles.”

  Isabelle now understood why she was sent here. She had seen it the very first time she watched Nora through the spyglass.

  But this was not the time to talk. This was a time to listen.

  Nora continued, “When you were talking about the girlgoyles, I got jealous. I thought you were going to dump me, like they did.” She took a deep breath, because it was clear that what she was about to say took guts. “But last night, I realized three things. The first is that I trust you, and I’m sorry I acted that way. The second is I believe in magic. But the third is that I don’t want it. I don’t need it. Not now. Not ever.”

  Isabelle wanted to twirl (but she didn’t; she was in a tree). She also wanted to tell Nora that she wasn’t all that confident about her magic anyway. And that Nora’s stepmother had already made a wish for her. But she didn’t, in case telling her was against the rules.

  Nora said, “I have always wanted a friend who cares about the world—a friend who likes cooking and hiking, like me. But most of all, I want a friend who won’t leave.”

  She looked really serious.

  “I get that you’re a fairy godmother and you have other people to help. I’m just not ready to say good-bye yet.”

  Isabelle knew how hard it was to feel alone. She definitely understood missing her mother. She knew what it felt like to have a wish that couldn’t be granted.

  “So last night,” Nora said, “I wished that you didn’t have to be my fairy godmother anymore. I know it’s silly, but I just want you to come over sometimes. Maybe even stay overnight. I wished that we could just be friends.”

  They climbed down the tree. Isabelle took out her wand, but she didn’t need it. She was 99.9 percent sure that she could still be a fairy godmother while being friends with people in the regular world.

  If there was ever a moment for all of the above, this was it. Nora didn’t need magic. She didn’t need tricks. She needed a friend. In this case, she needed a friend who was also a fairy godmother.