I Wish (27 page)

“Where is your food?”

He pointed at a giant Pez-like dispenser on the counter. “It arrives when I need it.”

I walked over and stared at its perfectly formed elephant’s head, beautiful and lifelike. But when I raised my hand to touch the trunk, Grant shouted, “Don’t,” and wrapped an arm around my waist to yank me back. “It’s not safe.”

“Okay.” I peered up at him. His pupils were tiny specks and his breathing was fast. “What’s the deal?”

“Our food is the source of our power. Humans must not come in contact with it.”

“This gives you magic?” At his nod, I peered through the translucent tube of the dispenser. It was filled with small doughy spheres about the size of golf balls. “How long does the effect last?”

“Perhaps three days. I don’t know for sure since I’ve never gone that long without our nutrients.” He stepped between me and the dispenser, blocking my view. “Please don’t go any closer.”

“Sure.” I turned my back on the kitchen and stared next at the sleeping space. A black-and-white hammock lay partially hidden behind a silky curtain. “Do you have a bathroom?”

He inclined his head. “No comment.”

There was no dust or streaky windows or spots on the floor. The walls and tables were bare. No photos or electronic equipment or books. “It’s so spartan.”

“Exactly.”

I hugged him, trying to wrap my brain around all this new information. He could create any home he wanted, and what he ended up with was so simple. “Do you get bored in here?” I said against his chest.

“No. The human world requires a lot of energy. I need a calm place to recharge.”

I tried to imagine him in here at night and failed. Much as I liked to be quiet, this seemed extreme. It would drive me nuts. “You stay here between assignments?”

He looked around the room with wistful eyes. “This is where I hibernate.”

“In silence?”

“Partly. I also check in at the League.”

“How?”

“There is a…place we can go. I hang out with other Beings.” He drew away from me and crossed to the kitchen.

An aura of sadness trailed after him. Until this moment, I’d never been so completely aware of our differences. It was like I’d pretended he came from an alternate region instead of an alternate universe. He missed his own kind. “So you get face-to-face time with them?”

“Certainly,” he said, his voice crisp and professional. He flicked an imaginary crumb on the countertop. “In addition to a boss, every apprentice has access to a team of mentors. The League hosts social events regularly.”

“What do you do at them?”

“Discuss our humans. Learn new skills.” His voice roughened. “Applaud promotions.”

My heart sank. “Your name won’t be announced next time.” My fault. I owed him a lot.

“I do not regret it in the least. My turn will come soon enough.” He held out a hand. “Would you care to go outside?”

I nodded. “Is it cold?”

“Indeed.” He lifted two thin black blankets from pegs on the wall. “We won’t stay long.”

The doors swung open. He started down the steps.

Not me. I stayed behind and stood still on the stone terrace gracing the front of the church. Oh, the view. It was familiar—and yet not. A cobblestone lane curved away through drifted snow toward the village in the distance. Above, an overcast sky. No stars or moon. Just the sense that a snowstorm could roll in at any second.

And, of course, there was the frozen lake, rimmed with evergreens.

“I’m ready,” I said in a hushed voice.

We crossed the lane and followed a sloping path toward the ice, sparkling in the light of an ornate gas lamp. I barely registered all of the details, my attention consumed by the Victorian couple. “They’re skating.”

Grant laughed. “Naturally. Did you expect them to be frozen as well?”

“Yes.” They were good. Olympic good. We watched as they circled the lake, twirling and leaping. On their third trip past, they waved, bowed at our applause, and skated over.

“Grant,” they said in unison.

“Magnificent as always.” He indicated me. “Norah and Charles, may I present Lacey.”

While Norah dropped into a curtsey, Charles kissed my hand.

“It’s nice to meet you,” I said. “I enjoyed your performance.”

Norah gave a bubbly laugh. “What a charming accent you have. Do you live nearby?”

Before I could respond, Grant said, “She is a human.”

The couple exchanged glances. “How very interesting,” said Charles. They stared at my BSB with knowing smiles.

“Time to practice,” he said, waving them off.

With a glide backward, they returned to their skating.

I clasped his hand and tugged him along the path. As we came around the crest of the hill, the village shops appeared. “Are they real?” I asked.

“Indeed. I must warn you, though. The goods are over a hundred years old.”

“What about the prices?”

He rolled his eyes. “Do you ever stop thinking about money?”

“No.” I clutched the edges of the blanket more snugly about me.

“Yes, the prices are from long ago. It is, however, Christmas Eve here. The shopkeepers have gone home for the season.” With a light touch of his hand at the small of my back, he turned me toward the church. “We should go. Your lips are blue.”

I stepped carefully across the ice-crusted cobblestones, climbed the wide stone steps, and followed him into the warmth.

“I think we should return to your world.”

“Okay, but before we go…” I took a flying leap and landed on one of the beanbags. It was a strange sensation.

Sort of floaty. Not beans or foam or air or water. It was more like going to the dentist and getting laughing gas. I wanted to giggle and drift.

“Don’t get too comfortable.”

He was laughing at me again, but that was okay.

“Lacey, take my hand and shut your eyes.”

I took a last look around the room. Then I did as he asked. A second later I was back in the studio, a little dizzy, a little regretful, sitting high on the worktable, wondering how I would ever be able to top a visit inside a music box.

Grant stood between my legs, a hand braced against the tabletop on either side of my hips. “I have a suggestion for today’s wish.”

“Hmmm?” His hands were distracting me, close but not touching. I was pretty sure that was a situation that needed fixing.

“I think we should turn the studio into a production line for the shoes.”

“Hmmm?” I looped my arms loosely around his neck.

“Lacey, pay attention.”

I leaned back a little. “It is so hot when you give orders in your British accent.”

“Lacey!”

My name on his lips was hot too. “I wish you would turn this studio into a production line for my shoe business.”

“As you wish, Chief.”

There it was again, that strange sensation. Sort of floaty. Completely lovely. “Why aren’t we kissing yet?”

“The same question had crossed my mind.” He leaned closer and pressed his lips to mine.

I could never get enough of this sweet, crazy kissing. How did anyone ever get anything done when they were falling in love?

How long would it take for the craziness to wear off? Months? Weeks?

I froze. Grant and I didn’t have weeks. We had days.

He drew back. “What’s wrong?”

My stupid brain. Why couldn’t it live in the moment? But no. It had to ruin a perfectly good make-out session. “I wish you didn’t have to leave on Saturday.”

His eyes narrowed at my words.

“Wait,” I said. “I know I can’t have that as a real wish.”

“I can stay.”

Had I heard that right? “You can stay?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“Indeed.”

Joy welled up inside me. The end of the month had stretched before me like a black hole, threatening to suck him into eternity. The few times I’d tried to deal with it, my thoughts had skittered away. Final goodbyes were horrible enough. Saying it to Grant would be unimaginable. “For how long?”

“As long as you want me.”

I slipped into his arms and buried my face against his chest. Below my cheek, his heart beat steady and sure. “I want you,” I said. “You’re sure the Boss will go along with this?”

“I am allowed to take a leave of absence.”

It was almost too good to be true. “This is wonderful. I can’t believe it. It’s so—”

He kissed me with hungry expertise, an amazingly effective way to refocus my priorities.

Status Report #24
Sunday’s Wish: Shoe Factory Construction

Dear Boss,

I confess. I invited a human into my home. If that is another offense requiring discipline, then so be it.

The leave of absence will begin Saturday, following the completion of her final wish. And yes, I am completely clear about the consequences. I don’t care.

I have never been so happy.

Humbly submitted,
Grant

D
oodles poured from my pen all evening. Although I didn’t expect many purchases from the male toddler population, I created a snake or two and one fabulous train. My mom nudged me away from the kitchen table around midnight.

At the crack of dawn, I rushed out to the garage and stepped inside. Since yesterday, the studio had become an artist’s dream. The lumber racks had been converted to slanted shelves with plastic bins. There was a paint chest and a cabinet for undecorated shoes. The worktable had been transformed from a rough and splintery surface to a masterpiece of polish and functionality.

“What do you think?” Grant was sitting cross-legged on Josh’s desk.

“I love it,” I said, then gestured around the room and at the track lighting above. “How did you get the materials for all of this?”

“In your attic, I found broken-down furniture, tubs, and spools of wire. Then there was a bit of bartering with Mrs. Williford.” He slid off the desk. “And perhaps a few things falling outside normal guidelines.”

I sighed with anticipation. My new production space looked and smelled like success. How could the business fail when it had a “factory” like this?

He crossed to my side and dropped an arm on my shoulders.

“Thanks,” I said. When he glanced down, I kissed him.

One thing I had discovered over the weekend was simply how much I liked kissing and being kissed. I hadn’t had much experience with it in the past, especially not the boyfriend-to-girlfriend variety. But now that I had, I liked it a lot. And there were so many kinds. Like that gratitude kiss we’d just shared. I would have to come up with a better one before I left for school.

“Here are my designs,” I said. “I wish for adorable toddler shoes.”

He took the sheets of doodles over to the worktable and smoothed them flat. There was a lot of grunting and head-nodding. A couple of minutes passed before he said, “Very nice. Do you have specifics about the colors?”

“You decide.” I reached into the pocket of my jeans and pulled out my last emergency fund twenty-dollar bill. “It’s not much for the supplies.”

He grinned. “I’ll make it work. Crystal knows a craft store with great bargains.”

“My mom knows about this?”

“Indeed. She’s showing interest in your project.” He sobered. “No pressure. We’ll let it grow naturally. Okay?”

“Okay.” I cast a look of longing at the room, then at the guy, gave him a better kiss (the kind that had to sustain us both for another seven hours), and left.

I practically ran home from school, eager to see Grant and the shoes. Pushing the door open, I walked in. My gaze fell on the worktable first.

Goosebumps shivered down my arms. The shoes were perfect. I admired the pair nearest me. Lavender, with silver tiaras outlined in miniature crystals. But it was the shoelaces that grabbed my attention. What had he done to them?

“I painted them too.”

They were so cool. Tiny figures danced along the strings, brushed on with a device as fine as the tip of a needle. “How?” I said, looking over my shoulder at Grant, who had appeared behind me.

“I can’t explain the process. It’s an ancient technique that’s been lost to human history.”

“One-of-a-kind shoes.” Twenty-four pairs. Different colors, different themes, each unique. Excitement burned deep within me. We had a gold mine here.

On the far end of the table sat a small, open box. I walked closer to peek inside. The box contained a bracelet made of copper wire links, shaped into overlapping leaves. Or were they hearts? It was gorgeous.

If Grant hadn’t already said he loved me, the bracelet would’ve said it for him. I went from gazing in awe to flying into his arms.

“What do you think?” he murmured against my hair.

I leaned back, my tone serious. “It’s the most amazing gift anyone has ever given me.”

His hands slid to my waist. “Try it on.”

I slipped it onto my wrist and let it rest over the nearly faded tattoo. The bracelet glowed against my skin, sophisticated and intricate in a beautiful coppery brown. Words of gratitude ached in my throat, but I didn’t trust myself to speak. I loved the bracelet. I loved everything he did. I loved him.

Was my love enough?

Grant kept giving and giving. I wanted to give back. Instead, I gave him more work. When we’d been mistress and genie, ordering him around had been expected, but we were a couple now. One of us could not give more than the other. It put us out of balance.