by Sarah Noffke
Willow nodded. “It’s 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 aren’t,” the fairy godmother dared to agree.
Trying not to take the blunt observation personally, Willow smiled. “We 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 untied the pink bow from under her chin and let the blue hood fall back to show her head of grayish-blue curls. “However, this old fairy isn’t interested in being part of that change.”
“But…” Willow’s next words went unspoken, 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 positively to the world.
“I’m 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 planted 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… perhaps 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Happily Ever After was out of date and could use a remodel.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 other 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 glanced at 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 trepidation soon followed. A call from the lead detective for the Fairy Law Enforcement Agency 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 teeth in the mirror. “Well, as always, I and everyone at the college appreciate 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 saw 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 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…” Detective Nicholson hesitated before adding, “spirited. She needs discipline, that’s all.”
“I’m not sure what that has to do with our enrollment,” Willow commented, but on the heels of her statement, it all came together. “Oh.” She drew out the word. “You mean, she…”
“That’s right, Willow,” the detective affirmed. “I was thinking, you need students, and I need a constructive way to sentence her.”
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, as 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 applicants vying for a spot at the college. Tooth Fairy College, also known as Chump-change College, was full of delinquent juveniles that the FLEA couldn’t afford to have clogging up their jails. Was that what her fairy godmother college would become?
“I’m asking for you to give her a try,” Detective Nicholson continued. “If it doesn’t work…well, I’ll have to send her to someplace harder.”
Jail, Willow thought. That’s what the well-meaning detective was implying, 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. It would expose her to the worst criminals, and if she were rebellious before, she’d be hardened afterward.
“I guess we could do it on a trial basis.” Willow heard the uncertainty in her voice and felt 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!” Detect
ive 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.
She looked around the out-of-date office and hoped she’d figure out how to update the college’s image and solve its curriculum issues.
Chapter Seven
“I have a proposition for you, Pare.” Uncle John set the phone’s receiver back on the cradle. “You’re not going to like it, but hear me out.”
She eyed the old-style phone. “Does it involve pushing you into the twenty-first century with a cell phone? Because if so, I’ll happily teach you how to use one.”
He rolled his eyes in that way he often did when he wasn’t really annoyed with her but rather was trying not to laugh and encourage her antics. “The place I called can only be reached by outsiders with a landline.”
Paris’ eyes widened with horror. “Oh, for the love of God, are you sending me to Minnesota? I know I have to be punished, but that seems cruel. Please, Uncle John, I’ll totally pull the niece card. Whatever it takes not to be sent to the middle of nowhere and not have high-speed internet.”
He shook his head. “I’m not sending you to Minnesota, but I’m fairly certain this place doesn’t have high-speed internet.”
“Wisconsin? Alaska? Montana?” She ran through all the remote places she could recall.
Her Uncle John laughed. “No, but I have a feeling you’re not going to like the place for other reasons besides that most consider it stuck in the Dark Ages.”
“Wow, you’re not selling this like you think you are,” she remarked dryly.
“Pare, I can make you a deal that will clear your record,” he began.
“And keep you from getting in trouble too, right?” she cut in.
He nodded. “Yeah, I think so. It will probably buy me more than a few favors.”
She leaned back, put her hands casually behind her head and smiled. “This is sounding better. Go on, then.”
The corners of his mouth turned upward. “Well, how do you feel about going to fairy godmother college?”
Paris didn’t hesitate, although she knew little about the place. “You have yourself a deal.” She would do anything to keep her uncle from getting in trouble for something she’d done. He was too good for that. He worked too hard and had protected her for too long.
To her surprise, his smile faded.
“You’ll have to wear a dress.”
Her grin dropped too. “Deal’s off.”
He sighed loudly and picked up her file. “I know attending a college that caters to women falling in love isn’t your style.”
A laugh burst out of her mouth. “Not my style? I refuse to watch romantic comedies. Ballads give me hives. I slugged the last guy who hit on me. I think ‘not my style’ is an understatement.”
“Well, as a fairy godmother, you don’t have to fall in love,” he explained. “Quite the opposite. You’ll learn how to help others to find their one true love. You match them and help them to fall for each other, and the world is a better place.”
“I have to wear a dress?” she questioned. Skepticism was heavy in her tone as though this was a real deal-breaker.
“I think they’re called gowns, but yeah,” he answered.
“How am I supposed to throw a roundhouse kick in a gown?”
He shook his head and opened the file in his hand. “That’s the thing, Pare. You’re not supposed to. That’s what’s gotten you in so much trouble. It’s either fairy godmother college or jail.”
She picked at the peeling vinyl upholstery of the chair. “Most of that stuff in my file is bogus.”
Uncle John flipped through the pages. “It doesn’t matter. It’s stuck for one reason or another. Like this.” He pointed at a report. “Arson in the fashion district in Los Angeles.”
“I was trying to put out the fire,” she argued. “Those fat gnomes who started it ran off, and I saw the whole thing, but instead of running after them, I tried to extinguish the shop.”
He glanced at her. “I might believe you, but the three witnesses there didn’t.” Flipping to another page, he indicated another report. “Here, you were found breaking and entering an abandoned warehouse on Roya Lane.”
“I heard kittens calling for help,” she explained.
He lowered the file. “No kittens were found.”
Paris shrugged. “Turned out it was a demon who was trying to lure me into the warehouse. He disappeared when you showed up after getting the call.”
His eyes flashed with annoyance. “Then you assaulted a fae. How do you explain that one?”
“Oh, I did that,” she admitted. “He was annoying me, so I clocked him.”
Uncle John slapped the file down. “That’s the thing. You can’t hit someone because they annoy you.”
She leaned forward. “He said a little makeup would make it so he could look at my face rather than my chest.”
At that, her uncle almost laughed but controlled himself. “My point is that regardless of whether it’s your fault or not, these crimes are on your record, and I can’t keep ignoring them. I have management breathing down my neck, and they’ve told me one more slip-up from you, and they’re going to want justice.”
“This was my last slip-up, wasn’t it?”
Regret heavy in his eyes, he nodded. “I’m sorry, Pare. There’s nothing I can do. You can go to Happily Ever After College or jail.”
She crossed her arms. “How long would I have to wear this gown and pretend to stomach romance?”
He blew out a breath. “That depends on you. The program is one to four years. Then you’ll need to do your service, and I think that’s another few years.”
“If I do it,” she began slowly, thinking about each word, “it will erase my record? We’ll be even?”
Giving her a skeptical expression, he pursed his lips. “Well, until you’re free and start getting yourself into trouble again.”
“I don’t get myself into trouble,” she argued.
“No, it finds you,” he said, and he looked like he believed it. “Maybe there are benefits here. The fairy godmothers are known for their polite behavior. I hope you’ll learn some things that will help you…act differently.”
“Better,” she corrected and narrowed her eyes at him.
“Pare, you can’t go around taking matters into your own hands,” he stated wearily, having had this conversation with her a hundred times. “Bullies are my job.”
“Yeah, but usually because of the law, you can’t do anything,” she protested.
“It doesn’t matter,” he replied. “Just because things fall out of my jurisdiction, it doesn’t mean you get to step in with this vigilante business.” They were silent for a moment, studying each other. Finally, Uncle John sighed. “I think learning decorum from the fairy godmothers might do you some good.”
Paris sat up straight and forced a smile onto her face. “That’s fine. I’ll do it.”
He blinked at her, surprised. “You will?”
“Well, yeah,” she said. “I don’t like the gown business. The romance part might kill me. Learning manners is going to ruin my spirit. But if I can’t make positive changes on the streets, I might as well take a position where I can. I mean, I don’t like the whole ‘making others fall in love’ part, but it helps the world to be a better place, right?”
“That’s what it’s supposed to do,” he answered. “Love is important for creating peace and balance. You can be part of that.”
“You won’t get in trouble?” She needed to be sure.
Uncle John closed her file. “If you put in your time at Happily Ever After College, my superiors will see me doing my job, and it will also strengthen my ties with the school. Having a fairy godmother who owes me a favor or two is never a bad thing.”
Paris nodded and stood. “Then you have your
self a deal. I’ll do it.”
Chapter Eight
It didn’t take long for Paris to pack. She didn’t own much. A slew of worn t-shirts. Two pairs of boots. A ton of holey jeans. And of course, the essentials. She wouldn’t be able to take much, according to Uncle John, so she left it all behind. All but the silver locket her uncle had given her years ago.
Uncle John had said it had been left behind in an evidence locker, and they were going to throw it away when they closed the case. He’d told her that it seemed like a waste to toss it when it was so pretty and seemed meant for Paris, having her initials and all.
On the reverse side of the locket were the words: You have to keep breaking your heart until it opens. Paris knew that quote to be from the ancient poet Rumi, but she never understood their significance.
Ironically, she’d never been able to open the heart-shaped locket. No spell she’d tried had opened the trinket, and there didn’t appear to be a spot for a key. She had often considered taking a hammer to it to see what was inside, but she reasoned that the quote wasn’t literal in that sense.
She wasn’t sure about the locket being pretty as Uncle John had described, but she couldn’t argue with the initials part. Since he’d given it to her, she always wore it or at least kept it close. She didn’t really care what was inside anyway. She’d liked that Uncle John had given it to her.
Clutching the necklace in her hand, she strode to the end of Roya Lane, where a portal would open for her in the next five minutes to get her to the fairy godmother college. That was the only way one could get there. The college wasn’t on a map, and only students and staff were allowed there.
Paris had lingered in Uncle John’s office too long earlier, not being good with goodbyes. He wasn’t either, and after a while, he’d waved her off and said he’d see her soon. She was going to college, not jail. Paris would be free to visit, so there was no reason to feel like this was a long-term thing, although she’d signed away the next several years of her life to erase her criminal record.
