Wishes (19 page)

As far as Berni could see, losing weight had had no effect on Nellie’s life. Charles and Terel had always treated her as someone to do their dirty work, and they didn’t seem to think that her losing weight was any reason to change their attitude. Nor had the weight loss changed Nellie. Even though she was now a knockout, she still had very little self-confidence. Nellie wasn’t encouraging the young men who came to call on her; she wasn’t now demanding that her family treat her with respect. She was the same Nellie she had always been.

Berni winced when she thought of this Nellie. Poor substitute for a fairy godmother I am, Berni thought. Maybe I should have done the “Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo” bit and changed a few pumpkins into coaches. Nellie got to go to the ball with her handsome prince, but only because someone else came up with a dress. Everything her fairy godmother had done for her had backfired.

After dinner Berni excused herself to her room. There she took a clear glass dome from the top of a lamp and put it on the table. “It’s not a great crystal ball, but it’s the best I can do,” she said aloud. “Now, let’s see what’s going on.”

She moved her hands over the globe, just as she’d seen countless gypsies do in the movies, and to her delight images began to appear. It took a moment for the images to appear clearly, but then she saw Terel talking to the big kid, Duke. She saw the note Berni had sent to Jace’s mailbox, saw Terel take it, read it, and crumple it. She saw Terel talking to Nellie when Nellie was on her way to visit Jace at his hotel.

Berni leaned back in her chair, and at first her only thought was admiration. Terel was more clever by far than Berni had believed. Somehow she’d known Berni was out to help Nellie, and she’d managed to anticipate what Berni was going to do and then thwart her.

“If this keeps up, in two more days Nellie will be even worse off.”

Berni looked at the fading images in the globe. She’d very much like to beat Terel without using magic, she thought. It would be a challenge to outfox this young woman, but the truth was she didn’t have time. She had only three days in which to perform miracles for Nellie, and now one of those days was gone.

So, Berni thought, the first day was a draw. Let’s see what can be done with the remaining two. First she needed a plan.

She tried wiggling her nose like Samantha on “Bewitched,” but that didn’t work, so she wiggled her ears instead. (In all her life on earth no one had ever known Berni could wiggle her ears.)

A chalkboard appeared before her, and a piece of chalk, hovering nearby, was ready to write. Berni leaned back in her chair.

Number one, she thought, and the chalk began to write, Nellie believes Jace left her, and that he fooled around with other women. Number two, she doesn’t believe Jace sent her any letters.

And number three, Jace’s feelings are hurt because he doesn’t think Nellie returns his love. “And heaven help any woman who hurts a man’s feelings. He’ll go off and brood for a few hundred years or so.” The chalk hesitated, then wrote “feelings hurt” very darkly. Obviously, the magic chalk was male.

“All right now, what else do we have?” She thought the names Terel and Charles, so the chalk wrote them in columns. Under them it wrote “can’t disturb their comfort.”

“Ah, yes, but they can get what they deserve if they’re happy with it. Charles wants a clean house, good food, and to spend as little money as possible.” The chalk wrote this under Charles’s name. “Terel wants someone to take care of her, to give her everything before she knows she wants it.”

When this was written Berni looked at the board. The obvious thing would be to show Nellie how little her sister and father cared for her, but Berni remembered the pain of hearing her own father saying he thought Berni was useless. “She never thinks of anything except clothes and how much money someone can give her,” Berni had overheard her father saying. No, she didn’t want to give that kind of hurt to anyone, and especially not to Nellie.

“So what can I do?” Berni whispered.

She leaned back in her chair, waved her wand, and began to look for the letters Jace had sent. It was so fascinating looking into people’s houses, seeing some very odd things going on, that she almost forgot her purpose. But she at last found the letters, tucked away in a drawer in some poor woman’s house. It was obvious Terel had paid her to answer Jace’s letters.

Berni waved her wand again, and then, smiling at her own cleverness, she gave the letters to a crazy old woman and imbedded in her memory a complicated story of how she’d come by them. The old woman lived with her brother and his young daughter, and it looked as though the child could benefit from a fairy godmother of her own.

“You bring the letters to Nellie, and if I know her, she’ll take care of you,” Berni said.

She smiled and looked at the other problems outlined. Now all she had to do was get Jace and Nellie together someplace romantic.

It was nearly dawn when Berni at last had her plan mapped out. One thing good about being dead, she thought, was that she didn’t need any sleep. She stood and stretched, wiggled her ears, and the chalkboard disappeared. Her plan was made and set into action now. She just had to stand back and see what happened.

N
ellie was awakened by someone throwing gravel at her window. She opened her eyes to see the early gray light of dawn, then got out of bed to go to the window. A young woman, hardly more than a girl, stood below, shivering in the early morning cold. She opened the window.

“Are you Nellie Grayson?”

“Yes,” Nellie said. “Could I help you?”

“I have to talk to you. Could you come down?”

Puzzled, Nellie wrapped a heavy shawl about her nightdress, slipped her feet into slippers, hurried downstairs, then opened the kitchen door to the girl. “I’ll have the stove going in a few minutes, and I’ll make some coffee.”

“No, please, I don’t have time.”

Nellie gave her a little encouraging smile as the girl stared at her. “You wanted to talk to me?”

“Oh, yeah. I just wanted to see you, that’s all. I mean, I wanted to see what you looked like. On account of the letters.”

“What letters?”

“These.” The girl pulled a fat bundle of letters from under her shawl and handed them to Nellie. They were all from Jace, addressed to Nellie.

“Where did you get these?” Nellie whispered.

“I live way out of town—don’t matter where, it’s just my pa and me and his daffy old sister, my Aunt Izzy. See, my pa don’t want nobody to know his sister’s crazy, so he pretends she’s not. Of course, pretendin’ don’t make her right in the head, but he pretends just the same. Anyway, one of the things my pa lets Aunt Izzy do is collect the mail when we come to town. I don’t know how she done it the first time—probably just lied, ’cause she’s a real good liar—but she told the postmaster’s stupid kid that she was Nellie Grayson, so the kid gave Aunt Izzy your letters. I think she even told him they were secret, so he hid them from his pa and saved them for Aunt Izzy. Anyway, she got ’em all. If I hadn’t cleaned her room yesterday, nobody ever would’ve known. I wanted Pa to bring me in last night so I could give you your letters, but he wanted me to burn ’em. I lied to him and told him I had, but this mornin’ I set out first thing and brung ’em to you. I didn’t wanta wake up the whole house, but I waked up that maid of yours first, and she told me which room was yours.”

Nellie listened to the story, held the letters, and looked at them. Slowly, she was beginning to realize that Jace
had
written her. He hadn’t abandoned her, but he’d written to her all the time he was gone.

“Them letters is important, ain’t they?” the girl said softly.

“Yes.” Nellie fumbled for a chair and sat. “The letters are very important.”

The girl smiled. “I thought so. Well, I gotta go now.” She started toward the door.

“Wait! Have you eaten? What will your father do when he finds out you’ve defied him?”

The girl shrugged. “Knock me around some. Nothin’ much. He ain’t real mean like some.”

Nellie swallowed. “What’s your name?”

“Tildy, for Matilda.”

“Tildy, how’d you like to come to this house and work?”

“In this pretty house?” Her eyes widened.

“Yes, and I can assure you that no one will ‘knock you around.’ ”

Tildy could only nod as her throat closed in happiness.

“Then come first thing the day after Christmas, and I’ll have”—Nellie swallowed—“I’ll have spoken to my father by then.”

The girl nodded, her eyes still wide, and backed out the door. “Thank you,” she managed to whisper before Nellie shut the door.

Nellie was heedless of the cold room; she forgot all about making food for her family. She opened the letters and began to read. It was all there, all of Jace’s love, and a daily account of how he was selling everything he owned in order to come to her in Colorado. He talked of their future together. He told her of his family. She read about his mother’s singing, about his father working so hard running Warbrooke Shipping. He wrote of his brothers and his Taggert relatives in Maine. In one letter he sent her a tiny sketch of an Australian orchid done by his Aunt Gemma. He wrote of his Grandpa Jeff and the old mountain men living in California and promised to take her there on their honeymoon.

By the fourth letter Nellie was crying. By the last letter she was crying so hard she didn’t at first see Mae Sullivan standing over her.

“Mae,” Nellie said, startled, “I didn’t hear your knock.”

“The door was standing open.”

“That’s odd. I’m sure I closed it.” Nellie was trying to dry her eyes on the sleeve of her nightgown, pretending she wasn’t actually crying at all.

“Oh, Nellie,” Mae said, and she began to cry, too. “I couldn’t sleep all night long. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to sleep again until I tell you the truth.”

Nellie sat in stunned silence as Mae poured out the whole story, saying that every female in town was half in love with Mr. Montgomery, and half out of jealousy, half out of anger, they had told Nellie that he had tried to kiss them.

“It just didn’t seem fair,” Mae wailed. “He never even
looked
at any other woman in town. You hooked him before we even got a
chance
at him. And then, too, you were so fat we all thought he must be crazy for wanting you, so we figured he wanted your father’s business and was courting you to get it. We just couldn’t believe he really
liked
you. Oh Nellie, I am so sorry for what we said. Mr. Montgomery never even looked at another woman in this town except you.”

Nellie clutched the letters and gaped at Mae. All she could think of was the awful, awful wrong she had done Jace.

“I’d better go,” Mae said, sniffing. “I hope everything turns out all right for you. I hope you marry him and live happily ever after.” She turned quickly and left the house.

Nellie sat where she was. Now what did she do? Jace was leaving today.

Before she could form another thought Berni entered the kitchen. “I thought I heard someone up.” She looked at Nellie’s letters. “Has something happened? Anything you want to talk about?”

“I…no,” Nellie said. She wasn’t used to talking about her problems to anyone. “I must get breakfast ready.”

“In your nightgown?”

“Oh, no. I must change.” She was having difficulty thinking clearly.

“Nellie,” Berni said, “talk to me.”

The next moment Nellie was seated at the table and pouring out everything to Berni. “I misjudged him. He was always kind to me, yet I believed the worst of him. How could I have hurt him so much?”

“Everyone hurts the people they love. What you have to do is go to him and tell him everything.”

“I couldn’t.”

“It’s not humiliating to tell the man you love that you love him. Half of love is groveling. You must—”

“I would do anything, say anything to get him back, but I can’t leave’ the house. I must prepare breakfast, and my father is having investors to dinner tonight. I must—”

“Keep them comfortable, right?” Berni snapped.

“Yes, I guess so. It doesn’t make sense, but I can’t leave them.”

“They’ll sleep as long as you’re gone.”

“Sleep? But Father never sleeps past seven.”

“He will today. Trust me.”

Nellie looked at her aunt and knew she was telling the truth. “I will go to him.”

“Good girl. Now go get dressed and wear the blue velvet.”

Nellie started to ask how Berni knew of the blue velvet, but she didn’t want to take the time. She wanted to see Jace as soon as possible.

Alone in the kitchen Berni snapped her fingers and was out of her nightgown and into a lovely dress of rust-colored silk broadcloth. The lace at her neck was handmade. She sat down at the table, snapped her fingers again, and a month’s supply of
People
magazine appeared, along with a plate of croissants and a pot of mocha. Now all she had to do was wait. Once Jace saw Nellie he’d forgive her everything, and wedding bells would soon be ringing. She just had a little bit more to do with Charles and Terel and then she’d be done. She might at last get to try the Fantasy room in the Kitchen. But instead of dragons, how about cowboys? Maybe he’d be a scout and she’d be a spunky young lady who needs to rescue her father or brother, and the scout won’t take her because she’s a woman, but then…Well, anyway, she’d have to try it when she returned.

With a shaking hand Nellie knocked on the door of Jace’s hotel room. Her heart was in her throat as she planned what she’d say to him.

He opened the door, his face full of sadness, but when he looked at her the sadness left and was replaced with anger. “Come to say goodbye?” he asked, then he walked away from her. He was packing.

“I came to apologize,” she said, stepping into the room. “You were right about everything. I was totally wrong.”

“Oh?” he said, putting shirts into his case. “Wrong about anything specific?”

“This morning a girl brought your letters to me. It seems her aunt lied to the postmaster’s son, and the letters were given to the aunt rather than being delivered to me.”

“How interesting,” he said, but there was no interest in his voice.

“And this morning Mae came to tell me that she and her friends had lied. You didn’t try to…to kiss them.”

“No, I didn’t,” he said, turning for a moment to glare at her.

Nellie took a breath. “I came to apologize for all I said and even for what I thought.”

He walked toward her, and Nellie’s heart almost stopped, but he just kept walking toward the bureau to get his razor. “So now what am I supposed to do? Say that everything is fine? Forgive you for everything and start all over again?”

“I don’t know,” she said softly. “I only know that I love you.”

He paused for a moment, his hands on the clothes in his case. “I’ve loved you, too, Nellie. I’ve loved you from the first day, but I’m not strong enough to fight your family. You believe everything they tell you. I don’t want to spend my life fighting for a piece of you.”

“I didn’t know,” she said. “I didn’t know about the letters.”

He turned to look at her. “And you didn’t know about Warbrooke Shipping either, did you? Tell me did your father put you up to coming here? Or did you make a pledge with your greedy little sister? If you get Warbrooke Shipping you’ll give them—What? A hundred dresses a year for Terel, new freight wagons for your father?”

Aunt Berni had said to grovel if she must, but Nellie couldn’t bear any more of this. “My family has only wanted what’s best for me. They did not want me to marry a man who left town without leaving a message, or one who courted many women at once. There was no proof that you had sent letters or that you hadn’t—”

“Kissed all the girls?” he said angrily. “There
was
proof. There was
my
word. You should have believed me. You should—”

“Yes, I should have,” Nellie said, fighting tears. “But I didn’t. I’m not much of a fighter, Mr. Montgomery. I just wanted to do what was right for everyone concerned, and it looks as though I’ve’ failed. I apologize for inconveniencing you.”

“Your apology is accepted,” he said tightly. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have a train to catch.”

There was a knot rising in Nellie’s throat, a knot that threatened to choke her. She couldn’t speak. She just nodded then and left the room, walking down the stairs and out of the hotel. She walked home, but she wasn’t aware of moving. As surely as though she’d been killed, she knew her life was over.

Berni sat in the kitchen, still reading
People
magazines, when she heard the front door open. She expected Nellie, her handsome hero on her arm, to come running into the kitchen. Instead, Berni heard Nellie’s heavy footsteps going up the stairs.

“Now what?” she mumbled. “Antony and Cleopatra didn’t have this much trouble.” She snapped the magazines and mocha and chocolates away and went upstairs. Nellie was prostrate on the bed. She looked about two inches away from suicide.

“So tell me,” Berni said, licking her fingers.

Nellie didn’t answer, so Berni wiggled her ears.

“He says I should have believed him,” Nellie whispered.

“Ah, men like blind obedience. Nellie, let me give you a little advice from somebody who’s known a few men. I don’t know if you’ve heard this or not, but there’s a saying that man’s best friend is a dog and that diamonds are a girl’s best friend. Man’s best friend is a dog because that’s what he wants a woman to be: a dog. He wants a pretty little wife, preferably blonde, who will do whatever he wants, when he wants it. He wants to be able to say, ‘Come on, let’s go,’ and she’ll get up, tail a-waggin’, and follow him. He doesn’t want her to ask questions about where or when or how, and he does
not
want her to have an
opinion.

“For a woman, she’s found out that she can trust something like diamonds because they don’t run around at night, nor do they constantly point out how she
should
behave.”

These words seemed to have no effect on Nellie, so Berni continued. “Don’t you understand? You weren’t his best friend.”