"I don't know. I mean, in just a day everything's changed. Now, Fern and Blossom are gone and I'm not."
She was here. Alone. Oh, there were two women, two friends, here with her, but it wasn't the same as having her sisters. She missed them both terribly.
Of course, they didn't miss her at all. They didn't need her.
Superfluous.
Unnecessary.
Nuts, she'd already used both of those terms on her list.
"Where would you like to be?” Fiona asked as she appeared suddenly.
"Fiona,” Glory and Grace said together. “Sit down and visit."
"Myrtle, where would you like to be? You don't have to be here. You do realize that, don't you?” Fiona took the overstuffed chair across from them and simply waited.
"Well, I hadn't thought. But ... No, I mean, of course I need to be here. Fern and Blossom need me, despite the fact they seem to have forgotten that."
Yes. They might think they didn't need her, but they would. Blossom would start something on fire or kick someone or ... Well, with Blossom you could never tell what she was going to do, but odds were she'd d something soon and need Myrtle to straighten it out.
And Fern. She might not have as many mishaps as Blossom, but she wasn't used to being on her own. Cooking. No, scratch that. Chefing. For humans. With no fairy powers. No magic.
Ha! She'd be crawling to Myrtle for help and comfort soon.
"Despite this new bid for independence, they need me.” Saying the words again made her feel better.
"Oh, they didn't forget,” Fiona assured her, as Grace and Glory murmured their assent. “They do need you. But they also need to spread their wings a bit."
"We don't have any wings. Your husband took care of that."
Bernie.
Bernie the rat.
One day Myrtle would have her powers back and she was turning him into a toad. She looked at Fiona, glowing with happiness, and relented a bit. Okay, she'd wait until Fiona had her baby, but then Bernie was toad-city.
"Yes, he did take your wings, didn't he?” Fiona agreed. “So, we've settled that you're staying here, but the question remains, what you're going to do while you're here?"
"I—"
"Yes,” said Grace. “What is it you'd like to try?"
Glory nodded. “You can do anything you want. You're one of the strongest, most together ladies I've ever met."
"I've lived, well, our time is different than yours, but let's say I've lived long enough to try everything I've wanted to."
"Not true. You've always been a fairy and tried things from a magical point-of-view. You're human now, and you can try anything you like as a human. So what would you like?"
"To be left alone."
There was sympathy in Fiona's face as she said, “That's fine, dear. You just call me when you want me."
Fiona blinked out of sight.
Grace and Glory rose.
"I guess that's our cue, too,” Glory said.
"Is there anything I can do for you before we leave?” Grace asked.
"No.” Myrtle, hesitated and said, “Well, maybe."
"Shoot,” Grace said.
"Well,” Myrtle hesitated then simply blurted out, “When you wrote our books—not just our books, any books—how do you decide what occupation suits what character?"
"Hm. Well, sometimes I chose an occupation based on the needs of the story, or sometimes I use the occupation to add depth to an aspect of the character I want the reader to pick up on or—"
"Wait, let's change this question. Look at me,” Myrtle waved her hand, indicating her body. “I'm a gorgeous young woman, trapped in a place I don't belong. My family is falling apart and ... If you were going to write an occupation for me, what would it be?"
"Kids,” Grace said.
"Pardon?” Myrtle asked. She was already gorgeous and young looking. Grace thought she should be even younger?
"You'd be very good with kids, I think,” Grace said. “I think you have a big need to mother people. Look at the way you've always taken care of Fern and Blossom. And, you like to be in control."
"That's what they say ... I'm controlling."
"No,” Glory jumped in. “That's not what Grace is saying at all. What's she saying is that you have a big heart that needs to be filled. Kids would do that for you."
"Oh, and Myrtle,” Grace said. “I know you're worried about Blossom and Fern, but they'll be fine. You've done a great job looking out for them all these years, but maybe it's time they learn to look out for themselves?"
"Maybe."
Maybe they would be fine, or maybe they'd end up trusting the wrong person and be tricked into doing something they shouldn't. Maybe they'd be lost without her. Or maybe, a little voice whispered, they'd do just fine on their own.
Myrtle wasn't sure which option was worse.
If Fern and Blossom didn't need her anymore, what would Myrtle do?
* * * *
"Where were you?” Myrtle hollered before Blossom had even made it through the door and into the house.
She'd spent her day pacing the confines of her house. It was feeling more like a prison than her home.
"I was out,” Blossom said, with a shrug.
"That's it?” Myrtle said, rushing over and standing directly in front of Blossom, blocking her in the foyer. “I've been worried all day, and all you have to say for yourself is, I was out?"
"Why on earth would you be worried, Myrtle? It's not as if I have to answer to you. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."
"Ha!” Myrtle wished she had her far more intimidating, middle-aged fairy godmother body. She knew her true form was gorgeous. And a gorgeous redhead's scowling didn't have the same air of authority as an older, not so beautiful woman's scowling did.
"Ha?” Blossom repeated. “Don't you dare 'ha' me. I'm a full grown fairy—"
"Actually, Blossom, dear, you're a human. At least you are for five months and twenty-nine days,” Fern pointed out as she joined them foyer. “But Blossom does have a point. She doesn't have to answer to you, Myrtle, or to me."
"You're just saying that because you snuck out as well,” Myrtle said.
"I didn't sneak out,” Fern protested.
"And neither did I,” Blossom said.
"I told you I was going out, and it's not Blossom's fault you slept in.” Fern moved closer, edging Myrtle over slightly so the sisters all stood in a circle.
"I didn't sleep in,” Myrtle said. “I barely even slept. I tossed and turned all night, worrying about what was going to happen to us. Neither of you are prepared for what it means to be human. You're going to get into trouble."
"And you're prepared for being human?” Fern asked.
"Well, I—” Myrtle stuttered to a halt.
"You were snoring like a trucker while you tossed and turned,” Blossom pointed out. “I could hear you in my room."
"That's a lie. I don't snore."
"Myrtle, I might not be a fairy at the moment, but I don't lie. And if I had been a fairy, I would have put a spell on the walls so I couldn't hear you,” Blossom said.
"Well, I never..."
"Yes, you have. Every night. Only I'd forgotten about it until I couldn't zap the wall with a spell anymore."
Blossom stood straight, looking confident—a totally unBlossomlike sort of confidence. “And furthermore, I'm not your responsibility. I'm not the albatross around your neck. I'll be going out every morning and will be back for dinner. If not, I'll pop in and tell you."
Fern nudged Blossom. “You can't pop in, remember?"
"Then I'll use a phone."
"You don't know how,” Myrtle said.
"I do. I even know Glory's number. She showed me when we worked here before. I'll use a phone and call her so you'll know if I won't be home for dinner."
"But where were you?” Myrtle demanded. “What were you doing?"
"I was...” Blossom hesitated a moment before saying, “It's a surpr
ise. I'll tell you when the time is right."
"But, but...” Myrtle sputtered.
Not only did her sister sneak out, but she was keeping secrets. They'd never kept secrets from each other before. They were close.
Best friends.
Sisters.
The thought of that relationship faltering broke Myrtle's heart.
But Blossom ignored the sounds of Myrtle's heart breaking in two and continued, “So, Fern, what about your day? Where did you go?"
"I didn't go anywhere,” Myrtle stated. “I just sat in this cold, lonely house and worried."
Fern ignored Myrtle as well and said, “Well, I got a job. A real job. For money even."
"A job?” Blossom asked, excitement for her sister in her voice.
"Yes. I'm a chef—not just a cook—at Les Magik. The owner, well, he's a bit of an ogre. He thinks he rules the world and not just one corner of it, but I can deal with him. And there's another, nicer man who's to be my assistant in the kitchen. When Nico—that's the owner's name—isn't around he's wonderfully witty and quite a help. It's just Nico's bellowing—and bellowing seems to be his normal mode of communication—makes Puffy nervous. Oh, but you just wait. Pretty soon restaurants from all over the world will be clamoring for my services."
"And I'll just sit here all alone and worry about you both,” Myrtle said, with an audible sniff punctuating her comment.
Blossom and Fern continued ignoring her.
Didn't they care that she'd spent the day all alone worrying about them?
Obviously not.
"So when do you start?” Blossom asked Fern.
"Tomorrow. I'm the luncheon shift at first, but soon I'll be dinner. And next week, I'll have a chance to plan my luncheon menus. Oh, Blossom..."
Fern went on rhapsodizing about the world of fine chefing, and Myrtle went on sniffing, becoming more and more put out that no one seemed to notice.
Being human sucked.
Chapter Five
Blossom
Blossom was on cloud nine, without any magical assistance, the next morning. She'd dreamed of acting. Of the play.
Occasionally, the dark lumpish man from yesterday wove his way into her dreams, but she quickly chased him out. She didn't want to waste the time and energy thinking about him. She had other, more exciting things to be thinking about.
She tiptoed out of the house before nine and went down the back stairs that led to the restaurant's kitchen.
She smiled, remembering working here.
She loved the Aaronson's. But it was here, in this restaurant, that she'd got her first taste of being human. Oh, she'd been a fairy pretending to be human as she tried to set up Glory and Nick, but she'd liked it.
She thought maybe Bernie had done her a greater favor than he would ever know by allowing her to be really human, if only for a six months.
She slid into a booth.
She'd order breakfast and then go explore the city.
Glory hurried over and poured coffee into Blossom's cup as she said, “You left my number with someone?"
"Yes."
She'd left it at the theater. Oh, did that mean—?
"Well, some man named Rom called.” Glory eyed her, as if she was trying to read what Blossom was thinking. “He said you were called back and that you were to be there are ten today."
Blossom glanced at the clock over the breakfast counter. “Oh, my gosh, it's almost nine now."
"He just called. I was going to come get you when you walked in."
Blossom didn't have to have magical powers to see Glory was waiting for some explanation. But she didn't want to share, not with her sisters, not even with her friend.
"Thanks for the message. I hope you don't mind I gave your number."
"No problem.” Glory paused. “So you're not going to tell me what it was about?"
"Sorry, but no.” Blossom wanted to hold onto and savor this one special thing that was all her own, at least for a while. “Not yet anyway. I'll tell you soon, though. I promise."
"I guess that has to be good enough."
"Listen, tell Myrtle I'll be back for dinner, would you? She's still sleeping and I'd like to avoid her questions for now."
Questions.
That was a generous description of what Myrtle had subjected her to last night. The third-degree was more accurate.
"She was worried about you yesterday,” Glory said softly. “You and Fern."
"I can take care of myself.” Not that anyone believed she could.
"Yes, you can."
Glory's agreement surprised Blossom. “You think so?"
"Yes. So can Fern. But I don't know if Myrtle can. Truly, she was a wreck yesterday. She must have come down here a dozen times asking if I'd seen you."
"Myrtle not able to take care of herself? Are you kidding?” Blossom laughed. “She specializes in taking care of everyone."
"But I don't know if she's ever been forced to take care of herself. There's a difference."
Blossom shook her head. “She'll be fine once she gets used to the idea of Fern and I finding our own interests."
"I don't know,” Glory said.
Blossom wasn't worried about Myrtle. Everyone knew she was the strongest, most self-reliant of the three of them.
No, what she was worried about was containing her excitement. She was practically bubbling over with laughter that was so big and enormous she was amazed that every customer in the store wasn't laughing too. “I'd better be going."
"I'll tell Myrtle,” Glory said, worry still etching her face.
Blossom gave her a quick hug. “We'll all be fine. You'll see."
* * * *
Less than an hour later Blossom arrived at Oliver's Theater. She once again waited in the small back room for her name to be called.
Oh, she could just imagine opening night. Standing in the middle of the stage, wowing the crowd with her ability to play Titania.
Smiling as she daydreamed, it took Blossom a minute to realize when a woman called her name.
"Blossom Trey?"
"Sorry,” she said as she followed the woman down the hall and into another room, rather than onto the stage.
There was a lone man sitting at a table. He was turned, looking out the window. As he pivoted and she saw who it was she cursed. It was the know-it-all from yesterday. The gorgeous, full-of-himself, pompous man.
"You,” she said.
"Yes. Rom. Rom Johnson. And you're Blossom Trey."
She stood in the entryway, staring at him.
Of all her luck. No kind, sweet director whom she could admire and learn from. No, she got him instead. Drat the luck. Some of her bubble of happiness deflated.
"Are you going to come in or you just going to stand there?” Rom asked.
Blossom straightened her spine and walked into the room. He'd called her back, so obviously the windbag knew talent when he saw it.
She took the chair opposite him and waited for him to speak, to tell her she was brilliant, to apologize for being a jerk yesterday.
"Blossom,” he started.
"Yes?” she said, waiting for that apology.
"Well, you must know you don't look very fairyish,” was what he said.
No, I'm sorry for yesterday.
No, you're brilliant.
Just, you don't look very fairyish?
Oh, what she wouldn't give for just a pinch of magic. She'd show him how fairyish she was. She'd turn him into a snake.
No, a snake was too good for the likes of him.
A worm.
Yeah, she'd turn him into a worm. Then she'd put him in the middle of the park and hope some bird ate him. Although the poor bird would probably end up with indigestion.
"Titania,” he continued, “should be dazzling, shining like some incandescent light, drawing the audience into her magic spell."
"Are you saying I don't dazzle?"
"I'm saying that you aren't Titania."
"No, I'm Blossom
. But I can act, which means I can act like Titania. After all, who'd want to really be her? Not me. Oberon is an overbearing, control freak. Imagine, turning Bottom into an ass. Why no one had to cast a spell on Oberon to make him an ass. He did it all by himself. If this was an isolated incident, well, maybe I'd say he wasn't so bad, but no, he's been at this nonsense for centuries. If I were Titania, I'd leave his skinny little butt."
"Pardon?” Rom asked.
Realizing what she'd just spewed forth, Blossom stopped mid-tirade. “You see, I'm already so far into Titania's character, it's almost as if I've become her."
There was something in Rom's eyes that told Blossom he wasn't quite buying her explanation, but he didn't voice his doubts.
Still giving her an odd look, he continued, “Listen, like I said, you wouldn't be my first choice for Titania, but unfortunately, you're the best there is, so the role is yours."
"Your enthusiasm overwhelms, sir."
"And your sarcasm underwhelms, Miss."
He'd Missed her. Some of Blossom's annoyance faded. For so long, in her old lady guise, she'd been Ma'amed. To be Missed again ... Well, she'd almost forgive the oaf for his nastiness.
Almost, but not quite.
He handed her a script. “Be here tomorrow at five ready to read the play through. Don't be late."
"Herbert?” Blossom suddenly remembered her friend from yesterday. He hadn't been in the room. “Did Herbert Henry get a role?"
Rom scanned his list. “He's Theseus."
Blossom grinned. Despite the oafish director, Rom Johnson, it was going to be a very good week and it was going to be a fantastic play!
She was Titania.
Oh, life was so good.
And being human? It was wonderful!
Chapter Six
Fern
"What do you mean, you don't like it?"
Fern had started the day full of high spirits. She was a chef at Les Magik, after all.
She was living out her dream that she hadn't even known she'd had. Oh, maybe she was working the lunch shift, but she was working, and that's what mattered.
She was a chef.
Why, she was so high with excitement she could almost fly, even though she was a human and not a fairy.
It had been a glorious start to the day.
Then Nico arrived and burst her bubble, leaving her to hit the floor with a thud.
Fairly Human Page 5
