by Holly Jacobs
Joy had waited until later in the day when she was pretty sure she was fairy-free to call her brother. She expected a variety of reactions to her are the fairies real question, but not this. She removed the telephone receiver from her ear and stared at it in disbelief. Bringing it back to her ear, she said, “Max?”
“I said, the answer is yes. It sounds insane—and believe me, I should know—but there it is. They’re real. And they’re not going to leave until you’re married to your own-true-love.”
“Max, this is insane.”
“I already said that. I agree. But sometimes, Joy, you just have to take things on faith. I don’t have to see them to believe in them. I know they’re real. You have the advantage of seeing them, and you have to face the fact that you have three fairy godmothers. They were Grace’s characters, then they came to life—if you ask, they’ll tell you how, though I don’t claim to understand any of it. But just because I can’t explain it doesn’t mean I don’t believe in them.”
“This is some huge joke, and I know there’s a punch line somewhere. I just haven’t figured it out.”
“Don’t try. It’s no joke. Like I said, it’s crazy, but it’s real. They are real.”
“Max, you can’t expect me to buy this.”
“Grace and I did our time, and you’re going to have to do yours. “All I can hope is that Nick is next. I’m going to love watching him survive the fairies’ help.”
“Survive?” The word sounded ominous.
“Listen, Joy, I’ve got to run. The baby’s crying. Talk to you soon.”
“Max, don’t you dare . . .” There was a distinct click. “. . . hang up on me.” Joy sat staring at the phone in her hand. She’d expected her brother to tell her to rush home and start some heavy drug regimen, but to have him say the fairies were real?
“As real as you are.”
Joy turned around, and the three stood there smiling at her. “And you’ve got to be on the road. It’s only a four or five hour drive, and Sophie needs to get home.”
“I don’t understand any of this.”
“You will,” Fern promised her.
Joy eyed them suspiciously. “You’re not coming on the trip with us, are you?”
Blossom glanced at her sisters before answering. “That wouldn’t be wise.”
“Why?”
“Ah, there’s a small complication in your case,” Blossom admitted.
“Complication?” Max’s oblique warning came to mind, and Joy’s stomach sank.
“She’s repeating what you say. That’s not a good sign,” Fern said.
“Girls.” Myrtle, the voice of reason.
Joy tried to steady her voice. “Myrtle, what’s going on?”
“Now, now, it’s not as bad as Blossom makes it sound. You see, only our godchildren can see us.”
“And?”
“And sometimes children. We wouldn’t want to startle Sophie. She’s been through enough,” Fern added.
“We’ve decided to try to be a bit more circumspect, is what the girls are trying to say. So, unless it’s an emergency, we’ll avoid talking to you in public.” Myrtle smiled, as if her comments should make Joy feel better.
All Joy felt was a sinking sense of dread. “And if you think it’s an emergency?”
“Then we’ll take the risk,” Myrtle said.
“Of me being institutionalized,” Joy muttered.
“Oh, I don’t think you have to worry. Max would testify to your psychological health,” Blossom said.
Fern pointed to a gaudy neon green wristwatch. “You really do have to get going.” The three fairies disappeared.
Joy couldn’t decide if she was relieved or nervous. When they were with her, at least she knew what they were up to. And, whether they were real or not, Joy had the distinct feeling that it was best to know what they were up to at all times.
“WE’RE HERE,” Sophie shouted excitedly.
“I see. I see. We’re here.” Joy was thankful that summer days were so long, though this one had seemed longer than most. Finding the driveway was hard enough at dusk. It would have been impossible if it had been dark.
“Do you think Daddy’s waiting for us?” Sophie asked for the thousandth time.
“I’m sure he is.” Joy turned onto a pot-holed dirt driveway that led back into a grove of trees, twisting and winding. “Why, I bet he’s watching out his window right now, wondering what’s taking us so long.”
“You drive too slow,” Sophie said, not for the first time. “There it is.” She pointed to the lone, rough-hewn lumber-sided house that stood in the midst of a forest of trees. Really, it was almost a cottage and much smaller than the mansion residence of Trudi St. John. But what it lacked in ostentatiousness, it gained in warmth. This was a home, a place where Sophie could be a little girl.
A giant porch circled the building’s two sides that Joy could see, and she could almost picture rocking with the little girl in the swing that hung to the right of the door.
“Where’s Daddy?” Sophie cried as Joy pulled to a stop. She’d unbuckled her seat belt and was out of the truck before Joy had even turned off the ignition.
Joy felt a tug at her heart as she watched her run to the door. Used to pulling up stakes at the merest whim or shift of the breeze, Joy had never felt as much as a twinge of regret. Maybe it wasn’t just the thought of leaving this precious little girl. Maybe it was partially a case of nerves. Who knew what the fairies had in store for her after this trip? She had little optimism about their matchmaking.
She’d grown up feeling like the odd duck in a pond full of swans. She’d never quite fit in, never quite belonged. And the relationships she’d been in had never worked out, not that there had been all that many. Not that many at all.
And as sweet and good-intentioned as the fairies might be, Joy doubted they’d be able to find her the type of relationship she longed for. It wasn’t that she wanted much. Just a home and family, a man who wasn’t just her lover, but her friend. No, that dream might not be all that much, but it was everything to her.
Sophie stood on the porch, expectancy written in every line of her body, but the door didn’t open. “Daddy?”
Joy walked up onto the porch and peeked into one of the windows. No lights, no indication that anyone was home. “Looks like we’re out of luck, hon. Your Daddy probably had to run to the store and thought he had more time. He’ll be home soon.”
“Yeah, sure,” Sophie said, a huge tear perched on her eyelashes, ready to fall.
“Come here, honey.” Joy knelt on the porch and opened her arms. She cushioned Sophie’s head against her ample bosom. Patting the shoulders that gave telltale heaves, she whispered, “It’s okay, sweetheart. He’ll be here soon.”
Sophie whispered, “No one wants me.”
“Oh, Sophie, you couldn’t be more wrong. There are so many people who love you and want you.” Joy rocked the child in her embrace.
“Mother didn’t love me, and now Daddy doesn’t, either.”
“Honey, I’m sure your daddy loves you. And your mother loves you in her own way. She is just one of those people who has a hard time showing it. She doesn’t know about little girls, so she doesn’t know how to show you how she feels.”
Pulling away from Joy’s embrace, sniffing and wiping her nose on the hem of her shirt, she said, “You know how to show me.”
Joy laughed. “That’s because I have a hard time hiding anything I feel. My brother’s used to laugh and say I wore my heart on my sleeve.” At the child’s puzzled expression, Joy explained, “Everyone always knew how my heart felt. And I love you.”
“I’m your kindred spirit,” Sophie said.
Joy nodded, brushing a stray lock of hair behind Sophie’s ear. “You’re my kindred spirit. I knew t
he moment we bumped into each other.”
Sophie giggled through her tears. “A kindred spirit,” she whispered.
Joy nodded. “After your Daddy comes home and we unpack your things, it’ll be time for me to go. But wherever I go, you’ll always know how much I love you.”
“I don’t want you to go,” Sophie wailed, flinging herself back into Joy’s arms.
Joy didn’t want to go, either. Sophie felt so right in her arms. She’d always dreamed about being a mother, but the more time went by, the more she doubted it would ever happen. She wasn’t extraordinary enough to catch a man’s interest. But holding Sophie, she could imagine what it would be like to have a daughter—a daughter with brown eyes that just begged to be loved.
“Ah, honey, I explained I couldn’t stay. But things will be better now. You’ll be with your Daddy and have all these woods to play in. This fall you’ll start school and meet all kinds of new friends. You’ll forget me soon enough.”
“No, I won’t,” Sophie told her.
Sighing, Joy hugged her tight. “And I won’t forget you either.”
The sun was sinking, and though it was early summer, the air beneath the trees was chilly. “Tell you what? Let’s go back to the truck, and I’ll pull my sleeping bag out of the back. We can cuddle on the seat and wait for your daddy. I’m sure he’ll be back any minute now.” She was thankful she’d driven to Trudi’s fund-raiser, rather than taking a flight. The truck was always well stocked with this and that.
Sophie nodded and, clinging to Joy’s hand, obediently followed her back to the truck. “Tell me a story,” she whispered when they lay snuggled beneath the sleeping bag.
“Once upon a time there was a little girl named . . .”
“Sophie.”
“And her best friend . . .”
“Joy.”
“One day they decided to set off on an adventure . . .”
Joy launched into the story with gusto, sending the fictional Joy and Sophie into a magical fairyland on a quest for magic treasure. Before the fictional Joy and Sophie had confronted the terrible monster who was guarding the treasure, Sophie was sleeping. “Good night, sweetheart,” Joy whispered as she planted a tender kiss on her forehead. “Sweet dreams.”
“The child’s wrong.”
Joy was almost getting used to the fairies’ appearances. All three fairies stood at the side of the truck, peering in through the window, concern filling their eyes. “We love her, too.”
“Where is her father? You’re supposed to be fairies, so why isn’t he here?”
“Go to sleep, Joy.” Myrtle’s voice was soothing. “He’ll be here when he gets here. We’re magic, but we’re not omnipotent. Just go to sleep. Everything will be all right.” All three fairies blinked out of sight.
Instead of being reassured, the words filled Joy with dread. Staring at the stars that had begun to make their appearance through the windshield and holding the little girl tight, Joy worried about the fairies. If Max was right, she wasn’t crazy and this wasn’t a joke. What she was was in trouble. She’d read Grace’s books and knew what sort of mess the fairies tended to make of their godchildren’s lives.
Joy fell asleep wondering just what they had planned for her.
IT WAS THE POUNDING that woke her up. An angry-eyed man stood outside the locked driver’s-side door, hammering wildly on the window.
“Shh,” Joy said, scooting away from the sleeping child and cracking the window. “Who are you?” she asked.
“Better yet, who are you? And why are you parked on what is obviously private property?”
Joy glanced at her glow-in-the-dark, digital watch. Eleven-thirty. Anger radiated through her body. How dare he? This had to be Gabriel St. John, a man who thought nothing of disappointing a little girl. She’d hoped that he would care for Sophie in a way her mother obviously didn’t—that he would treasure her and love her. Joy had hoped this move would be a good one for her little friend, but now she wasn’t so sure.
Fueled by the anger pumping through her veins, she popped the lock and opened the door. It was impossible to get a good look at Gabriel St. John, but she didn’t need a good look. She needed a shotgun.
“You’re going to wake her up,” she whispered, beckoning him away from the truck. “And I have a thing or two I’d like to say to you before we do wake her.”
The man followed her without saying a word—actually stalked would have been a more appropriate description. Stopping at the porch, Joy turned and faced him. “How dare you? That little girl has been through enough. Living with . . . Well, living with that woman for the last year, and then waiting for you, expecting a huge welcome and finding absolutely nothing. What could have been so important that you weren’t here?”
“Who the hell are you, and what are you talking about?”
A moment of doubt cooled her blood slightly. “You are Gabriel St. John, aren’t you?”
She could make out his faint nod in the darkness. “And you were expecting Sophie and me, right?”
“Sophie?”
The confusion in that one word said so very much.
“She didn’t call, did she? That—” Joy stopped herself. She wanted to strangle Trudi St. John. “Well, I realize you must have seen something in your ex-wife once upon a time, but I can’t imagine what. I mean how could she not call you?”
“Sophie’s here?”
This time it was Joy who nodded. “She’s sleeping in the truck. We got here about eight, and no one was home. I’m afraid she thinks the worst—that you don’t want her any more than her mother does. I told her there must have been some kind of emergency . . .” Joy’s voice trailed off because she was talking to thin air. Gabriel was already at the truck, crawling through the driver’s side to reach Sophie.
Joy sat on the edge of the porch, wanting to give father and daughter some privacy for their reunion. She’d only just settled herself when the screaming started.
“Joy? Where’s Joy? What have you done with her?”
Joy sprang from the porch and raced to the truck.
“Joy? You didn’t leave me, too? Joy?”
She tried to open the passenger door, but it was still locked. Gabriel reached past his daughter’s flailing arms and popped the button. Joy reached into the cab, her arms outstretched. They were immediately filled with a sobbing little girl.
“There, there,” she comforted. “I would never have left you without saying goodbye. And, goofball, you were still sleeping in my truck. How could I have left?” She laughed, praying the little girl wouldn’t notice how forced it was. “Come on, I’ll carry you into the house, and we’ll get you settled.” Though the child was an armful, she scooped her up, trusting Gabriel would follow.
“And then you’ll leave?” Sophie asked, her voice hiccupping from her sobs.
Still walking, Joy tightened her hold. “Honey, we’ve talked about this. I brought you to your dad, and now you’ll be with him. I have to get back to my life. Just because I have to go, doesn’t mean I don’t love you or that I won’t miss you. I’ll call you, and you’ll tell me all about the new and fun things you do . . .”
She went on describing her phone calls, making up a funny adventure that had to do with a cow and the rodeo clown who rescued her, but all the time she prattled, soothing the child with her voice, she felt her heart breaking. How could a six-year-old have become so firmly entrenched in her heart in such a short time?
Gabriel opened the door and motioned her inside. He flipped a switch, and the room was flooded with light. More rough-hewn timber formed the walls, and a massive stone fireplace lined the entire east wall. Overstuffed, comfortable-looking furniture and shelf after shelf of books rounded out his decor.
Joy stared at Gabriel, a giant of a man. He hadn’t seemed nearly so large outside whe
n her anger was sustaining her. But now, in a well-lit house, he seemed huge. His dark eyes studied her with an intensity that made Joy very uncomfortable.
She set Sophie on the floor and unwrapped the sleeping bag from her tiny frame. “Now, here we are. Why don’t you stand here and say a proper hello to your daddy? I’ll go back out to the truck and find your overnight bag.”
Immediately Sophie wrapped her arms around Joy’s leg. “Don’t go,” Sophie cried, her hysterics beginning all over.
“I’m not going anywhere but to the truck for your pajamas. Why don’t you tell your daddy about that truck driver who blew you a kiss?”
The tears slowed, and Sophie’s grip loosened. “He blew you the kiss.”
Joy shook her head and pasted a smile on her face. “Nope, he blew it to you, and he honked his horn.” Joy unwound the arms from her leg and gave Sophie a gentle push towards her father. “Tell him, and I’ll go get your stuff. I’ll be right back.”
She started out the door before either the silent Gabriel or the tearful Sophie could protest. In the comfort of darkness, Joy allowed herself the comfort of a few tears, but by the time she’d reached the truck, she stopped.
She could cry tomorrow. She’d find a hotel, hole up there, and cry her heart out until she purged the pain that had started to radiate through her breast. Maybe the fairies had some special spell to make her go numb. Being so affected was stupid. She’d only known the little girl a couple of days. But she supposed love didn’t necessarily follow a clock.
Pulling the neon pink backpack from the jump seat, Joy sniffed back more tears and practiced her smile. She’d get through this. She always did.
“I’m back,” she said when she entered the house. She glanced at Gabriel and Sophie. It didn’t appear either of them had moved an inch. “How’s it going in here?”
“I still don’t understand why you’re here,” Gabriel said.
“Don’t go yet,” Sophie pleaded, again wrapping herself around Joy’s leg.
“Why don’t I get this tired little miss to bed, and then we’ll discuss why we’re here.”
Gabriel nodded and started up the stairs to the left of the door. “Her room’s up here.”
