by E. M. Lilly
It’s not a good photo, she thought. I know he looks like he’s sneering in it. So of course my mom is going to react that way, especially since she had already picked Ethan out as her future son-in-law. It doesn’t mean anything. That’s not the way Ethan is. We’ll both see tomorrow that that’s not how he really is.
Emily took one last deep breath and let it out slowly. She felt better. Since leaving the motel, it was as if she’d had blinders on, but her tension had been released enough where she could pay more attention to her surroundings and actually notice that it was dusk out and she was on a heavily wooded residential street. She looked around to make sure there were no cars in sight and no one else walking nearby, and then she summoned Jack. As with all the other times she had summoned him, he appeared as quickly as if she had snapped her fingers. After he looked around enough to get his bearings, he arched an eyebrow and gave her a quizzical look.
“Hmm,” Jack said. “Miss Mignon, it may not be the best idea to summon me in a public place like this. But never mind that. What’s done is done. How may I be of service?”
Winston, on hearing Jack’s voice, wagged his tail, but was too busy sniffing an elm tree to do much else. Emily frowned at the genie’s implication that she might have been careless in summoning him there. “I made sure there was no one around before I called for you so that’s not an issue,” Emily said. “Besides, I had little choice about using this location. I had to call you somewhere away from my motel room since my mom is going to be staying with me for the next few days. I have another wish to make.”
That caused Jack’s eyebrow to arch up further, making a sharp upside down V.
“I want a new car for my mom. And here are the specifics.”
Emily described how she wanted her mother to win a contest the following day, and that the prize would be a new car, as well as fifteen thousand dollars to cover any income taxes that her mother might be incurring from this. Emily chose a safe, reliable car for her mom, nothing fancy, and she covered in explicit detail everything she could think of to make sure the car would run properly and not have any lurking problems. She was trying to leave nothing to chance, even specifying when the prize would be delivered to her mom. By the time she had finished with her wish, Jack’s eyes had dulled so that they resembled gray pebbles and a severe frown sagged his face.
“Miss Mignon, may I suggest that you instead wish for great wealth, and then simply buy your mother whatever car she would like? This seems like a roundabout and unnecessary way to accomplish what you want. I would hate to see you throw away another of your wishes. You will find that they grow more precious as you have fewer of them.”
“Jack, I appreciate your concern, but knowing that my mother is driving a safe and reliable car is all I want right now.” Emily said as straight-faced as she could while forcing a sickly-looking smile. It was possible that the genie was trying to look out for her. Maybe even probable. But it was also possible he wanted her to make a wish that could be distorted for mischief’s sake. Emily felt her smile hardening as she added, “Besides, I’ve heard how wishes of great wealth have turned out for others. Lawrence Willoughby, for example.”
“I see.” Jack’s severe frown turned more into a pained grimace. “And that’s why you’ve been asking for such modest wishes. You’re afraid that if you ask for something more significant, your wish will turn into something disastrous.”
“That’s what happens, isn’t it?”
“You mean with my past masters,” Jack said, wistfully. “Ah yes, their wishes may not have ended the way they would’ve liked, but Miss Mignon, for most of them their wishes turned out as they deserved. You, on the other hand, deserve otherwise. I promise you that I would not pervert or add in a loophole to any wish that you’d like to make.”
“But what if it doesn’t matter what your intentions are? What if it’s simply the way it works with genies? Or it’s a matter of fate? For now I’ll stick to wishing for only what I truly want. And keeping my wishes modest.”
Jack opened his mouth to argue with her, but saw it was pointless. His manner became more formal as he said, “Very well, Miss Mignon, your wish has been granted. You have five wishes remaining. For your sake, I hope you give them the proper amount of consideration. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
Emily shook her head. “Nothing else, but if you’d like to walk with me, I’d welcome the company. And I’m sure Winston would also. But otherwise, no.”
“Very good. I’d find it a pleasure to walk with you, Miss Mignon. Thank you.”
They continued on in silence in the same direction that Emily had been heading earlier, with Winston particularly insistent on sniffing every tree they came across. Emily didn’t feel the need to talk and simply enjoyed the solitude of the night, and the sound of crickets and other night creatures that now seemed so foreign to her after her years of living in New York. She looked over at Jack who wasn’t so much walking as he was gliding, his gaze fixed somewhere off in the distance. Maybe he was enjoying the night air also, or maybe he was too disappointed in her wasting her wishes to want to talk with her then. Or it could’ve been something entirely different with him. Maybe it was all simply an act to gain her trust so he could manipulate her into making wishes that could be sabotaged in spectacular fashion. That was the thing with genies. As much as she felt she could trust him, she couldn’t know for sure, especially after understanding how badly Lawrence Willoughby’s wishes had turned out, and others also. It was possible that every master Jack had ever served had seen their wishes blown up on them, so why should she be the only one to actually have her wishes pay off? But maybe they would work out if she stuck with modest ones and kept away from the selfish variety of wishes, like asking for great wealth. Even if Jack had genuine feelings for her like she thought he did, it could simply be part of a genie’s nature to make sure that wishes of that sort turned out badly.
Emily smiled bitterly to herself. She wasn’t going to be able to figure it out, nor did it matter as long as she stuck with the smaller wishes she was making. After all, there was only one thing she truly wanted. In her heart she believed things were going to work out with Ethan. That it was meant to be. But if not, she had five remaining wishes to try to find true love. She’d just have to be careful to keep her true intentions hidden from Jack. She couldn’t help feeling that if Jack figured out what she was really after that he’d work in a way to mess things up for her.
After walking six more blocks, Emily turned around to head back to her motel. When the motel’s sign was in sight, she told Jack that he’d better disappear for now.
“With my mom around, I won’t be able to summon you to spend evenings with me and Winston.”
“Perfectly understandable, Miss Mignon.” Jack smiled thinly. “And please do congratulate your mother for me on her upcoming good fortune.”
With that he gave her a slight bow and disappeared within what had become his usual burst of smoke.
Chapter 12
The radio alarm clicked on at eight the next morning playing Steppenwolf’s Magic Carpet Ride, waking Emily up. She lay in bed for a few moments disoriented and not quite sure where she was. Then she heard the sound of light breathing next to her, and saw that her mother was sound asleep on the other side of the queen-sized bed, completely oblivious to the radio. Emily then remembered where she was and what she was going to be doing later that day. As she thought of meeting Ethan in a little less than two hours a wave of excitement hit her that left her wide awake and her heart fluttering. She reached out for the radio and turned it off, then pushed herself up so she could spot Winston, who was lying by the foot of the bed snoozing away. Minnesota was on Central Time, so it would be a minute or two after nine o’clock back in New York. Winston would normally have been up at least two hours earlier, but the previous day must’ve exhausted him.
Emily took a deep breath and forced herself to lie on her back so she could calm herself down. As she did this she was
amazed as she thought of how well she had slept the night before given how nervous she’d been knowing that she was finally going to meet Ethan in the flesh. It was almost as if a light switch had been flicked off with the way she’d fallen asleep the moment she closed her eyes, and even more amazing, that she’d remained completely dead to the world until the alarm went off this morning. It must’ve been having her mother’s presence nearby. That was what must’ve relaxed and calmed her enough to fall into such a deep sleep.
Emily craned her neck to look over at the alarm clock. Four minutes had passed since she had woken up. She popped out of bed, and after several more deep breaths, headed to the shower. Ethan was meeting her at the motel at ten, which should give her plenty of time to get ready and find a bakery where she could buy pastries and coffee for them.
I love this shower, Emily thought a minute after she stepped under the showerhead as a full blast of water continued to drench her. Smiling to herself, she thought about making another wish to have a shower just like this wherever she lived, especially since the showers in her Queen’s apartment and the condo she was now living in in Manhattan had only lukewarm water and weak pressure, at least compared to this one. Of course, if she made a wish like that, Jack would probably blow a gasket for her wasting yet another wish so frivolously. Her smile grew more impish as she thought about how it would almost be worth making that wish just to see how exasperated Jack would get.
Emily usually kept her showers to ten minutes or less, but she ended up spending an extra twenty minutes in this one; partly so she could shave her legs, but more so she could linger and enjoy the luxury of it. Somewhat reluctantly she turned off the water, dried herself off with a towel and slipped on a complimentary white terry cloth bathrobe that must’ve been meant for people at least six feet tall since the bottom of it reached Emily’s ankles. She then blew her hair dry so it fell straight over her shoulders, and once she was satisfied with how it looked she stared in the mirror and tried to decide whether to apply the makeup that she had bought specially for this trip—a subtle pink lip gloss, blush and eyeliner. It was nothing extravagant or outrageous, but it was the first makeup she had ever bought, and it would be the first time she wore any since she was seven and had snuck into her mother’s cosmetics drawer. Her eyes narrowed as she stared hard at her reflection, and tried to make up her mind. Finally she decided against using the makeup. It just wasn’t her. If she and Ethan were meant to fall in love, then lip gloss and blush wouldn’t be necessary. And forget the eyeliner. She’d probably make a mess out of it anyway.
She had brought underwear, a worn pair of jeans that were near threadbare at the knees and a tee shirt with her into the bathroom, and she took off her robe and slipped on her clothing. Later, after she bought food and coffee and returned to the motel suite, she’d put on a more business-like skirt and blouse for her meeting with Ethan.
Her mother was still asleep, but Winston had woken up and was making little grunting noises as he lay on his side and stretched his legs. With a snort, he flipped over onto his feet and waddled to Emily, his tail wagging. Emily greeted him with a hug and some scratches under his jaw, which made his tail wag harder. She straightened up, moved over to the bed, and gently shook her mother’s shoulder until her eyes opened.
“Good morning, dear,” Alice Mignon said, her voice tinged with a smoker’s hoarseness. She coughed to clear her throat, then squinted badly against the morning light as she glanced at the clock. “Wow, it’s late,” she said, her voice sounding only slightly better. “It’s been years since I’ve slept as late as a quarter to nine. It must’ve been all the driving yesterday. Left me more worn out than I realized.”
Emily reached down to hug her mom and kiss her, then told her that Ethan would be arriving at the motel in an hour and fifteen minutes, and that she needed to be heading out before then.
“Don’t worry about me,” Alice Mignon said. “I’ve got a full day of sightseeing planned in Minneapolis. First a sculpture garden and then three museums. It may not be New York, but from what I’ve been reading, Minneapolis is a very cosmopolitan city. And safe, too.” She had emphasized the words cosmopolitan and safe for Emily’s benefit, probably as a not-so-subtle endorsement for Emily to consider moving to Eden Prairie, if not Des Moines. Alice Mignon brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes and said, “Don’t worry, Emily, I won’t be in the way here. I promise.” She gave Emily a quick look up and down and smiled sweetly at her daughter. “Are you planning to meet this author dressed so, um, casually?”
“No Mom, I’m running out now to grab some food and coffee, but I’ll be dressed appropriately for when Mr. Blake arrives.” Emily had hesitated briefly before saying Mr. Blake. It sounded unnatural for her to be calling Ethan that, but she wanted to discourage her mother from thinking that this was anything other than business between her and Ethan. “I’ll pick you up something also.”
“That won’t be necessary, dear. Don’t trouble yourself, please.”
Emily made a face as if the idea of her not picking up food for her mother was an utterly ridiculous concept. She turned to leave. Winston had begun making small whimpering noises to let her know that his bladder was full and he badly needed to go outside. She had her hand on the door knob while at the same time Winston pressed his snout against it, when her mother called out asking what time she should return to the room so they could go out for dinner. Emily felt a twinge of guilt since she had been thinking up until that moment that she’d invite Ethan to dinner that night. Well, that would just have to wait until her mother headed back home, which would be in only three days. She turned back to her mother so she could smile at her, and making sure no hint of disappointment could be picked up from her voice, told her that five o’clock should work fine.
##
Emily needed twenty minutes to take Winston for a walk, another twenty-five to drive to a local bakery and pick up an assortment of pastries that included cinnamon buns, bear claws, apple tarts and slices of pound cake. She first bought three large coffees, figuring she’d get one for herself, her mom and Ethan, but then she thought Ethan might prefer a latte, so she added one, and then she started worrying that he might be sensitive to caffeine, so she also added a decaf large coffee. By the time she left the bakery, she was loaded down with several pounds of pastries and a cardboard box full of different types of coffees.
Since Winston had taken the trip with her, she put him in the back seat on the ride back to the motel so the pastries would be safe up front. While she drove she balanced the cardboard box full of coffees on her lap so they wouldn’t fall over and spill. Winston wasn’t happy about the arrangement, nor was she particularly thrilled about it, but she got back to the motel with the pastries and coffee intact, not quite sure how she had managed that.
When they got back to the motel, Emily led the way up the staircase that led to her suite while Winston plodded along behind her. Halfway up, Winston let loose with a half growl and half bark and took off running, his thick body nudging Emily’s legs as he raced up the stairs. Emily was surprised by this; first, she’d never seen him run that fast, second, she’d thought he’d want to stick close to the food, especially with the strong buttery aroma from the cinnamon buns. When she got to her room, Winston was standing guard outside the door, a low growl rumbling from him.
“What’s wrong, boy?” Emily asked.
Winston responded by making his growl louder, his head thrust forward.
The door opened then as Alice Mignon stepped out. Winston tried to bull his way past her, but Alice used her knees to keep Winston from entering the room while she closed the door behind her.
“Let me take that from you, Emily,” Alice Mignon said in a hushed whisper as she took the bag of pastries from where it had been perched on top of the coffees. She led Emily a few steps away from the door so she could tell her that her author had arrived early.
“He came ten minutes ago,” Alice Mignon said. “I think he’s the quiet, shy t
ype. Nervous also. But better looking than he is in that photo. And seems nicer also. Who knows? Possibly even husband material.”
Emily was about to protest that last comment when her mom cut her off. “I know, I know,” Alice Mignon said. “He’s only an author, and you’re his editor, and the two of you need to work together, but you never know about these things. Let me help you get all this in there, then I’ll take off. And don’t worry, dear, you look very pretty in what you’re wearing.”
It was nine-thirty-five. Emily had given herself plenty of time to get back to change. She hadn’t counted on Ethan arriving this early. She imagined how she looked in her grungier, hanging around clothes, and shuddered. It wasn’t the impression she wanted to make, but she decided it didn’t matter. Maybe her being dressed this casually would put Ethan more at ease. Anyway, it wasn’t as if she was going in there naked. At least she had put a bra on earlier.
Winston had his snout up against the door, still growling like a low running motor. This concerned Emily. The only time she’d seen him growl before was with Mitch, but that was a far more vicious growl. This growling was more perfunctory.
“Behave,” she told him.
Winston cocked his thick, round head at her and gave her a confused look, but also stopped his growling.
“If he was one of those little yappy dogs, I’d pick him up,” Alice Mignon said. “But I’m afraid I’d break my back trying that with him. Do you want me to take him today?”
“He’ll behave himself,” Emily said with a certainty she didn’t fully believe. She didn’t want to burden her mother with Winston and keep her from going to the museums and other places that she had planned. She gave the Bulldog an especially stern look. “Won’t you, Winston?” she demanded.
The dog let out a half-snort and half-grunt by way of acknowledgment. Emily had taken his leash off earlier, but now she rested the cardboard box holding the coffees on a thick hand railing so she could take the leash from her jacket pocket and slip it back on Winston, who gave her an annoyed look as she did so.