"What do you want from me?” he asked.
"What do you want from me?” she countered.
"The problem is, I don't know.” Looking at her, Nick could think of one thing he wanted—to take Glory someplace quiet, someplace with no fairies, and then he wanted to make love to her again all night long.
"Call me when you do.” She turned and started back toward the fairies.
"So that's it?” he asked.
She turned, facing him. Nick could see pain in her expression and longed to soothe her until that pain disappeared. But since he was the source of her pain, there wasn't anything he could do.
"Apparently it is,” she said quietly.
Glory wanted to shout that this didn't have to be it, that the fairies had promised they could have so much more, but she didn't. She wasn't sure if she didn't say it because she was afraid Nick would reject her, or if she was afraid he'd say the fairies were right, and they could have a happily-ever-after. She didn't know what she wanted from him, so how could she expect him to know what he wanted from her?
"Goodbye, Glory,” he said in a tone that spoke of finality.
"Goodbye, Nick,” she whispered too soft for him to hear. So soft she wasn't even sure she'd spoken out loud. She watched the man of her dreams walk down the hall and turn the corner out of her life.
"Glory,” Blossom said, gently placing her hand on Glory's shoulder.
Glory shrugged it off. “Don't worry, girls. You're batting one for two today. Fiona and Bernard will have their happily-ever-after. Fifty percent isn't bad odds."
"He might come around,” Fern said.
"I don't think so.” And that was fine. It wasn't as if she couldn't get by without Nick Aaronson. She'd proven to herself she didn't need anyone. She could make it on her own.
The problem was, she thought as she stared at the vacant hall, she didn't want to make it on her own without Nick. She wanted...
"What do you want, Glory,” Myrtle asked softly.
"I want Nick,” she said, finally admitting to herself her deepest desire. She didn't just want him for a night of making love—she finally gave what they'd done a name. No, she wanted all his nights and all his days. She wanted him, body and soul.
"Want Nick to what?” Blossom asked.
"To love me. I want what his family has—what Max and Grace, and Gabriel and Joy, and his parents have. I want a happily-ever-after."
"So?” Fern prodded.
"So what?” The three fairies were watching her expectantly, but Glory had no idea what they expected. She'd admitted she wanted Nick. They'd just have to admit he didn't want her.
"So what are you going to do about it?” Myrtle asked.
"What can I do? Nick doesn't love me, and you said you can't make people fall in love."
"That's right,” Myrtle said sadly. “Though I've often thought it would be easier if we could."
"Whoever said love was easy?” Blossom asked.
Despite the fact her heart had just followed Nick out the door, Glory managed a little smile. “No one, I guess."
"That's right. Love isn't easy, even if you have fairy godmothers helping you out,” Blossom said.
"I think love might even be a bit harder with fairy godmothers helping you out,” Glory muttered.
"Say the words, Glory,” Myrtle commanded.
"What words?"
"The words you wouldn't say to Nick.” Blossom's hand was pressed to her chest, and she once again had a Southern belle swoon going.
"What good will it do me? Even if I say them to him, he doesn't feel the same way."
"Words carry magic of their own, especially that one word.” Fern didn't look swoony. She looked slightly annoyed. “You know what you need to do. Say the words, Glory."
The three words she thought she'd never say again. Words she'd never fully understood until she'd met a certain dark-haired, infuriating attorney. “I love Nick."
She loved his sense of honor, honor that led him to defend the fairies. She loved his sense of family—his love for them all showed every time he talked about them. She loved ... she just loved him. That love had nothing to do with fairies. But they were right, it did have a magic all its own.
"So, I ask again, what are you going to do about it?” Myrtle said.
"I don't have a clue.” Obviously making love last night hadn't touched Nick like it had touched her. The trial was over, and he was done with the fairies and, apparently, done with her as well.
"You could make a wish,” Fern said.
"The three of you are not my fairy godmothers."
"That's right, we're Nick's.” Blossom looked exceedingly pleased with herself, and that alone made Glory nervous, but when the yellow fairy pressed, “But give it a try anyway."
"I wish I could make Nick love me."
"No, no, no,” Fern scolded. “You can't make Nick love you any more than we can make him love you."
"So what is it I'm supposed to be wishing for?"
Sighing with disgust, Myrtle said, “Glory Chambers wishes for a chance to make Nick understand what he means to her, and what she feels for him."
Bernie blinked into the hall. He was about the size of her forearm and fluttering in the Erie Courthouse's hall on a pair of gossamer wings. “Is that what you wish?"
"I thought you were taking Fiona to Fairyland?” What was he doing here? Coming back to hold her in contempt again?
Bernie sighed. “I have taken Fiona home. Actually we were just starting dinner. So, if you don't mind hurrying this up."
Fiona, a very small fairy-version, blinked into sight next to him. “He's all mine as soon as he clears up this one last job. You want a chance with Nick, right?"
"Right. I'm not asking for you to make Nick love me, I know you can't. But I want a chance to tell him what I'm feeling."
"That's your wish?” Bernie asked.
"Yes.” Glory might be scared, but she wasn't going to let fear stand in her way of a happily-ever-after. If she said nothing, she might not ever have Nick. And if she told him how she felt, he'd either realize he felt the same way and they'd live happily-ever-after, or he'd decide he didn't, and she'd learn to live without him. The odds were better with telling him.
"Come on, Bernie, take care of it,” Fiona said. “I want to go home. There's so much to see and learn."
"Fine.” Bernie reached out and took Fiona's hand, giving it an affectionate squeeze. Then he turned his attention on Glory. “It's done. You'll have your chance with Nick."
"How? When?” she asked.
"Tonight.” And with that Bernie and Fiona disappeared into what Glory hoped was their very own happily-ever-after.
"Tonight,” she echoed. Tonight she'd tell Nick Aaronson how she felt. Myrtle, Fern and Blossom had said those three words had a magic about them. Glory could only hope they contained enough magic to make Nick love her back.
Chapter Nine
"Ooh, la, la, what a handsome man you are, cheri,” the winsome blonde whispered in his ear.
Nick Aaronson frowned as she caressed his cheek but continued the dialogue that had become part of the ritual, “And just think, I'm all yours for tonight ... and for as many nights as you want."
"Oh, but Nicky, it's not me you want,” Lola said as she disappeared.
In her place sat Blossom. But unlike the first time she interrupted this dream, she wasn't smiling indulgently at him. She was frowning even before Nick stood up in shock, dumping her from his lap.
"You know, this has got to stop.” Blossom stood and rubbed her well-padded posterior.
"You're damn right. You've got to stay the hell out of my dreams.” He glanced around the deserted French bistro, waiting expectantly. “Where are they?"
Fern and Myrtle appeared in a flash. All three were once again wearing their cancan outfits, Nick noted.
"Well, Gracey won't let us wear them around her,” Fern said.
"Listen, just get out of my dreams.” He'd spent the evening drink
ing with Bill. Neither of them had talked about fairies. They'd simply gotten pleasantly drunk and then taken cabs home.
Nick had fallen into bed, determined not to think about fairy godmothers, happily-ever-afters or Glory. Sleep had always been a refuge, this dream especially so.
Until now.
"Get out of my dreams,” he said again.
"Not until you admit this isn't your dream,” Blossom said cheerily.
"What the hell do you mean this isn't my dream? Of course it's my dream. I came here years ago and have dreamed about it since. This is my dream—this place and Lola are mine. They're where I go when I need to get away. And let me tell you, I came here to get away from you. So I want you out."
"No, you just relive this rendezvous with Lola and remember it at night,” Fern said. “This isn't your dream. You've got to see that."
"You know what your dream is,” Blossom said.
"Or rather who your dream is,” Myrtle corrected.
"Listen, I defended you, but I don't believe in you.” Nick Aaronson didn't need fairy godmothers. He didn't need anyone. What he needed was a good night's sleep.
"That's okay, Nick. We believe in you,” Fern said.
"Listen, get out of my...” he paused, an image of a certain redhead flashing through his mind's eye. The fairies were right, though he'd never admit it. Lola had never been his dream.
"Of course we're right.” Myrtle looked smug.
"Don't read my mind,” he snapped.
"We wouldn't have to if you'd be honest out loud,” she said.
"What exactly is your dream, Nick?” Fern asked innocently, as if she hadn't been reading his mind along with Myrtle.
"Just get out,” he said. He needed time to figure out what to do about his newly identified dream. “Go."
"Not until you admit it,” Fern said stubbornly.
"I don't have to admit anything."
"Oh, but you do, Counselor. You're under oath.” said Judge Bernie.
Gone was the French bistro. Nick was sitting on the witness stand, and Bernie was once again on the bench. “You were asked a question, now answer it. And answer it truthfully."
"Could you repeat the question?” Nick asked.
"Just what is your dream?” Myrtle repeated.
"No, no, Myrtle you're wrong.” Before Myrtle could protest, Fern said, “Just who is your dream, Nick."
"I want to take the fifth."
"You can't.” Bernie thumped his gavel.
"I can on the grounds my answer might incriminate me."
Glory stood in front of the witness stand. “Bernie?” she said, ignoring Nick and turning instead to the fairy judge.
"Tell Nick what you said this afternoon,” Bernie prompted.
"Oh, no. That wasn't my wish."
Suddenly, the entire courtroom, including Glory, heard her disembodied voice say, “I'm not asking for you to make Nick love me. I know you can't. But I want a chance to tell him what I'm feeling."
"So, here is your chance. Tell him what you're feeling,” Bernie said. “I have to get home. Fiona's waiting."
"I love him. Okay?” She turned to Nick and faced him angrily. “I love you, and I don't know why. I mean, you're an opinionated, stubborn man who doesn't have a clue what he lost when he walked away from me this afternoon. And you're an attorney. I'm not overly fond of attorneys, you know."
"Oh, no?” Nick asked. He tried to rise, but couldn't.
"Sorry, Nick. You're still on the witness stand. Glory's answered her question, now it's your turn. What is your real dream? That inner-secret you've hidden so deep that you won't even visit it while you sleep?"
The entire courtroom was watching him. Nick could feel a sheen of sweat cover his forehead. A man shouldn't sweat in his dreams.
"But we've all agreed this isn't your dream,” Fern said.
"No, it's my nightmare,” Nick grumbled.
"And Lola isn't your dream,” Fern declared.
She didn't seem to realize she didn't need to drive that particular point home. Nick had never fooled himself into thinking that Lola was anything more than a young man's fantasy. She was just a convenient substitute for what Nick really wanted.
"What is your dream, Nick?” Glory repeated her question. “What do you want?"
"I want what Max and Joy and my parents have,” Nick admitted.
"What's that?” Bernie pressed.
"I want that kind of love.” He stopped and looked at the fiery redhead in front of him. “I want Glory."
"Done,” came four fairy voices. Slowly the courtroom faded away, along with everyone in it. Nick sat up in his bed—his cold, lonely bed.
He wanted Glory Chambers. She was his dream come true. “I love Glory,” he said out loud. The words swelled his heart. He loved Glory Chambers!
It was a miracle. It was magic. Loving Glory was everything he'd ever dreamed of, and more. He had wished for what his mother and father, and Max and Grace, and Joy and Gabriel shared, and somehow, it had happened. He'd found a woman he could love for the rest of his life.
Now all he had to do was convince her that she loved him, too.
* * * *
Glory glanced at the clock. Four-thirty in the morning? Who the hell would be knocking at her door at four-thirty in the morning?
Her first thought was the fairies. They'd think nothing of waking her from a wonderful dream. A dream that included Nick doing all the wonderful things he'd done to her last night, and more. In her dreams he'd fallen to his knees and said, “I love—"
That's all the further he'd gotten before the knocking on her door had awakened her.
"Damn it,” she muttered. She'd never know if her dream-Nick loved her, or if he'd been about to tell her he loved asparagus, or worse yet, brussel sprouts. Who in their right mind could love brussel sprouts?
"Coming,” she shouted as she pulled on her decrepit old flannel robe. “Hold your horses."
"Hold yours, Glory, honey,” Fern said. “You're not answering the door looking like that."
"Damn it. I admitted I believed you were fairies, but I didn't say you could just pop in on me whenever you wanted.” If believing in fairies didn't make her crazy, then having them pop in and out of her room soon would.
"But honey,” said Blossom. “If we hadn't popped in you might have answered the door looking like—"
"Like what?” Glory asked, visions of skewered fairies dancing in her head.
"Like that." Fern's exasperation with—that was obvious in her voice.
"Myrtle, would you hurry up!” Blossom hollered.
"Coming.” The red-haired fairy popped into the bedroom. And the thumping on the door grew louder.
"Coming!” Glory yelled. “I don't know what's going on, but I want to go back to bed, so the three of you have to clear out."
"Oh, we'll clear out as soon as we take care of you.” Blossom's smile said that whatever they were planning didn't bode well for Glory.
"What do you mean, take care?"
"This.” A wand appeared in Myrtle's hand, and she waved it.
"This?" Glory asked.
"Look down,” Myrtle said.
Glory was no longer wearing her cut off sweats and Temple t-shirt. She was wearing a gossamer pale peach peignoir set. She reached up, and her red curls were no longer bed-head-smooshed, but perfectly styled.
"No morning breath even,” Blossom said with a grin. “You're ready to open the door now."
"What's going on?” she asked, more than suspicious.
"Oh, we made a late night call on Glinda. She made Grace's dress for the ball. Did we ever tell you that? Well, we knew right away you needed something special for tonight. So after we left—"
"Left where?” Glory asked.
Blossom ignored her and continued, “—we headed right to Oz. Of course, the Scarecrow asked us to have some tea, but we said no. And you don't know how much I would have enjoyed tea with him because he's a total hunk."
"Blossom, he
's stuffed with straw,” Fern pointed out.
"And your point is?” Blossom asked, looking annoyed.
There was another loud series of thuds on her door. “Ladies, really I have to get that."
"Oh, yes you do,” Blossom gushed. “After all, Glinda worked faster than I've ever seen anyone work to get your outfit done in time. Why she—"
"Blossom, hush. It's time for us to go,” Myrtle interrupted. “We'll just show ourselves out. You go get the door.” And with that the three fairies disappeared.
"Fairies before coffee is just too much for an ordinary mortal to deal with,” Glory muttered as she stormed across her box-cluttered living room. She'd been so busy getting the restaurant opened, and then worrying about fairy trials, she was still practically as packed as the day her moving van had pulled up to the apartment.
Another loud series of thumps hurried her along. “Who is it?” she yelled through the bolted door.
"It's Nick.” He pounded against the door. “Glory, open up. I've got to talk to you."
"What are the three of you up to?” she whispered to what appeared to be an empty room. It might appear to be empty, but Glory knew better. Those fairies weren't going anywhere if it meant they might miss something.
"Just open the door, Glory,” Myrtle's disembodied voice said.
Muttering about fairies and attorneys and coffee, Glory unlatched the door. “What do you want?” she practically growled.
"You.” Nick leaned against the door frame and grinned.
"Me what?"
He pushed past her and waltzed into her apartment, then stood in the center of the living room and turned a full circle. “I love what you've done with the place."
"If you recall, I've been a bit busy with the restaurant since I moved. This place just got pushed aside until I had more time. And I repeat, me what? What do you want, Nick.” Coffee. That's what Glory wanted. Coffee and quiet. No fairies, no crazy attorneys. She wanted time to think.
"No, you want time to talk yourself into hiding away,” she heard Blossom whisper into her ear.
"Get out,” Glory whispered, but apparently not softly enough.
Miracles for Nick Page 14
