Fairly Human Read online

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  ImaJinn Books

  www.imajinnbooks.com

  Copyright ©2004 by Holly Fuhrmann

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  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  Prologue

  The three fairy godmothers, somewhere between late middle age and early senior citizenship, all wearing crayon-colored cancan outfits, sat in a line on a stage. The fairy godmother in red had just taken off a shoe and was massaging her foot.

  Bernie smiled. This was going to be the best time he'd had in months.

  Well, not the best time. His new wife was the best time, but this was the next best time. His smile grew broader.

  "Hello, ladies. What brings you to Fairyland?"

  "We're between cases,” Fern, the brunette wearing the bright green cancan outfit, said. “So we thought we'd get in some practice on our dance."

  "Yes,” said Blossom, the crayon-yellow haired fairy whose outfit was the same shade as her hair. “We thought we'd surprise everyone at the Beltane festival with a new dance."

  "If we catch Grace in a good mood, maybe we'll even do it for her and the family,” Fern said.

  "Don't count on it,” Myrtle, the red-haired, red-clothed fairy said. “Grace has a deep-rooted bias against our cancan dances."

  "Well, she wouldn't if she could see this routine,” Blossom said.

  Bernie cleared his throat. “As much as I appreciate your enthusiasm, it appears you won't be doing a dance at this year's Beltane Festival. You won't be in Fairyland in May, you see."

  Myrtle studied him a minute, and Bernie could see that she knew they were in trouble. “Just where will we be?” she asked.

  "The exact where is up to you. But the answer to where you won't be is in Fairyland. You see, the Council has decided you need to spend more time with mortals. You've spent years working with them, but we worry you don't always realize how your—um, mishaps—yes, your mishaps affect them. In order to rectify the situation the Council has decided you will spend more time with mortals ... as mortals."

  He watched as his meaning sank in. Their faces sank and Bernie's spirit soared.

  "You, you can't be serious,” Myrtle sputtered.

  "No, I'm not serious. I'm Bernie.” He laughed at his own joke, but the three fairies didn't even crack a smile, and that made him laugh even harder. “You see the three of you are about to find out what it feels like to have your life meddled with."

  "Are you complaining?” Blossom asked. “I mean, I'm sure Fiona will love hearing that you're not happy with our work."

  "That's not what I meant, I mean—"

  This time Fern smiled. “If you think she was annoyed when she sued us for not giving her a happily-ever-after, just imagine how perturbed she'll be when she finds out her husband isn't pleased with our fairy-godmothering. After all, you did marry the girl and bring her here to Fairyland to live."

  "That's not what I'm saying at all.” The three fairy godmothers had brought him and his new wife together in their usual roundabout, insane sort of way. It took Fiona suing them in a human court to get their matchmaking started.

  "You know I adore Fiona,” he said loudly, just in case his wife was eavesdropping, “and I am happier than anyone that she likes it here and fits in so well. She's even talked about finding a job here in Fairyland."

  "Then what are you saying, Bernie?” Myrtle asked. “Because you seem to be doing a lot of talking, but you don't seem to be saying much of anything."

  "You three need to be quiet and let me finish."

  How had he lost control? He always seemed to lose it when these three were around, which is why he'd approached the Fairy Council with this plan. After all, if he couldn't control them, no one would be able to.

  "Finish?” Myrtle said. “You haven't even started."

  "Oh, but that's where you're wrong. I started yesterday by going to the Council with my plan, and they all agree."

  "What's the plan, exactly?” Fern asked.

  "Oh, now you want to listen, do you? Maybe I'll just sit here, and you three can continue to try to talk circles around me, if you like."

  Blossom jumped off the stage and stomped her foot. “Bernie, you are the most obstinate, opinionated and—"

  "And you're going to spend the next six months as a human, stripped of your powers and finding out what it's like to be one of the people you work your magic on."

  Bernie finally achieved one of his lifetime goals ... Myrtle, Blossom and Fern were speechless.

  "Ah, for the first time ever, I've managed to shut the three of you up. Six months. The Council agreed that your help—while it does bear results—is highly unorthodox and upsetting to the people involved. We decided it would be beneficial to have you all learn what it's like to be truly mortal."

  "Bernie, you can lie to the Council,” Myrtle said, “you can even lie to yourself, but don't think you can lie to us. This is revenge, pure and simple. It has nothing to do with our disconcerting mortals, and everything to do with us disconcerting you."

  "There's nothing I can say that will change your mind about my motives, but I thought it would comfort you to know that Berrybelle herself said this was the right course of action."

  His mother was one of the high priestesses of the tribe. She had the gift of the sight. She rarely voiced an opinion, believing it was better to let things go as they should on their own, so when she did voice an opinion, everyone listened.

  Even the three thorns-in-his-side fairies in front of him.

  "Berrybelle?” Fern whispered.

  "But your mother never agrees with you,” Myrtle said.

  "You're the bane of her existence,” Fern added.

  "And I wish that someday you have a child who worries you as much as you've worried your mother,” Blossom said.

  "Blossom!” Myrtle and Fern gasped together.

  Bernie didn't say a word, but he felt weak-in-the-knees, a decidedly unfairy and unmanly reaction to Blossom's wish.

  "Take it back,” he gasped.

  "Bernie, you know she can't,” Myrtle said.

  "And you and Fiona have talked about having a child,” Fern added gently.

  "In a century or two. Certainly not now. Why, we've hardly had a chance to be together."

  A father? He couldn't be a father. Not yet. He'd barely adjusted to being a husband. He loved Fiona so intensely that the feeling frequently threatened to overwhelm him. The thought of sharing her love with someone else was disconcerting, and the idea of being responsible for a child was more than disconcerting, it was terrifying.

  "Take it back,” he repeated.

  "It's been almost a year,” Myrtle said.

  "You've been hanging around humans far too long. A year is just a blink of the eye. A child? Blossom, how could you?"

  "I—I—I—” Blossom stuttered and then broke down into tears. “You're going to have a baby ... a baby I wished on you. Oh, I'm so excited. Can I be her godmother?"

  "That's it,” he said, still trying to adjust to this new wrinkle in the fabric of his well-plotted life. He needed to get the fairies out of Fairyland before they could create any more problems. “Six months. Pick a continent."

  "We want a city. Erie,” said Myrtle. “Send us back to Erie, Pennsylvania."

  "You think the Aaronsons will be able to help you? I know you feel close to them. After all, you brought all three of them together with their spouses.” He considered it
a moment and then shrugged. “Well, they may keep you from starving, but they're not going to be able to help you replace your magic. And what are the three of you going to do without your magic for six months? I wanted six decades, but the Council said no. Then I tried for six years, but still they said no. But if you mess up too bad, maybe I can get them to reconsider."

  "Bernie, you're truly a vindictive sort, aren't you? And after I just gave you a baby, how can you be so mean?” Blossom wailed.

  "That's it. Go. Erie, here you come, and there you'll stay for the next six month. Oh, and when you get there, I have one other little surprise."

  He waved an arm and the three women vanished. He'd check in on them later. But first, he had to find his wife and tell her they were going to have a baby.

  A baby. A baby that Blossom wished them. In Fairyland wishes were as good as actions.

  A baby.

  The idea wasn't quite as terrifying.

  Fiona would be a wonderful mother, and he ... he would be the best father in the world.

  A baby.

  Suddenly, all thoughts of Myrtle, Fern and Blossom evaporated as his heart was suddenly filled to the point of bursting.

  A baby!

  "Fiona,” he called as the fairies’ cancan hall disappeared and Bernie started off through the Fairyland forest looking for his wife ... the mother of his soon-to-be child.

  Once he'd found her he'd check in on the fairly human trio.

  Yes, he might owe Myrtle, Fern and Blossom a lot, but that wasn't going to stop him from enjoying their upcoming trials and tribulations.

  Chapter One

  Myrtle

  "Bernie, you toad, come out and fight like a fairy,” Myrtle hollered as she landed rump first on cold pavement. “Blossom? Fern?"

  "Here we are,” came a voice from a bush.

  Myrtle climbed to her feet and walked over to the rustling bush just as two women emerged.

  "Oh no, he wouldn't,” she moaned as her sisters climbed out. “Bernie, you troll, how could you?"

  Not wanting to, but knowing she had to, Myrtle looked down.

  Gone were her lovely old lady, sagging breasts and her small pot belly.

  She held out her hand. No age spots and not a wrinkle in sight.

  "Okay, girls, tell me the truth. Am I as beautiful and young as I think I am?"

  The tall woman with the long, blond hair nodded slowly. “You're both gorgeous."

  "So are you,” Myrtle said with a sigh. “Tall and gorgeous. I don't remember you being quite so tall."

  "It's been a long time since we changed our appearance. I almost forgot that I wasn't an old lady,” Fern said. She was shorter than Blossom, with beautiful sable hair.

  Blossom looked down and moaned. “Well, if he was going to turn us back into our original bodies, he could have done it right. Look, he forgot my bosom."

  "Blossom, you never had a bosom,” Fern pointed out gently. “Now, I have a bosom. Always did."

  "Of course I had one,” Blossom argued and thrust her decided bosom-less chest forward. “I remember beautiful, perky breasts. And what do I have? A clear view of my feet, that's what."

  "Blossom, the beautiful, perky breasts you're remembering were Fern's. She always had a great bosom,” Myrtle said.

  "Why, thank you Myrtle,” Fern said, smiling and standing a bit taller. “And you've always had a nice behind. Remember that leprechaun, Michael? He always liked to pinch it."

  "That's enough Fern. Why I haven't thought of Michael in a few hundred years, and now is not the time to start thinking of him. Just imagine if he overheard my thoughts and decided to look me up? Why, as humans, we're powerless and would be at his mercy. And Michael always did have an odd sense of humor. It would be almost worse than being at Bernie's mercy. What we need to do is figure out what we're going to do."

  "Are we in Erie, or did Bernie put us somewhere else?” Fern asked.

  "I—” Myrtle looked around. They were standing in a park. “I think the courthouse is that way, which means Glory's isn't far. Let's go."

  They started walking through the park, three beautiful women in gauzy fairy garb.

  Myrtle didn't feel beautiful. As a matter of fact, she felt annoyed. More than that, she felt mad. Who did Bernie think he was? How could he still be looking for revenge? After all, they'd found him the love of his life, and Blossom had even wished him a baby. Why, he owed them.

  And how did he repay their kindness?

  Cast them out of Fairyland and turned them into humans.

  Myrtle realized her feet hurt and looked at the dainty sandals she was wearing. “Hang on a minute. I think I have a pebble in my shoe."

  Fern and Blossom paused and Myrtle leaned over to adjust her sandal.

  Someone whistled.

  "Who did that?” Myrtle asked, as she stood.

  Fern pointed at a young man on a park bench. Myrtle marched over to him and stood, hands on hips. “Just what do you think you're doing, young man? Why I'm old enough to be your grandmother."

  He scoffed. “Lady, if that's how grandmothers are looking these days, I'll take a dozen. Maybe your two friends would like to be my grandmother, too?"

  She looked down and sighed. Oh, she was going to get Bernie back. She was going to turn him into a toad.

  No scratch that, he was already a toad.

  And speaking of toads, she looked at the smirking man on the bench. “Do you kiss your mother with that mouth? It's as dirty as your mind is,” she said and then turned and returned to her sisters.

  "That's telling him, Myrtle,” Blossom said.

  "That was inane and almost embarrassing,” Myrtle groaned as they again started walking toward what she hoped was Glory's. “What I wanted to do was turn him into a woman for a week and let him see what it's like, but I can't because Bernie's a twit."

  "Let's hurry to Glory's. She'll help us out,” Fern said, picking up the pace.

  "Yeah,” Blossom chimed in enthusiastically.

  Glory Chambers Aaronson was the wife of their godchild, Nick. They'd set the two of them up, quite brilliantly, if Myrtle did say so herself.

  And she never hesitated to say good things about herself.

  Of all the godchildren they'd ever had, they were closest to the Aaronson family.

  Maybe because Grace MacGuire Aaronson was the author of a series of fairy tale romances ... staring Blossom, Fern and herself. Or maybe it was because the family was just so darned nice. Either way, Myrtle loved them all, which is why she'd picked Erie, Pennsylvania, when Bernie asked. If she had to be human, she might as well do it where there were people she liked.

  They'd started with giving Grace a happily-ever-after. When Myrtle and her sisters appeared, poor Grace had worried about her sanity, since she'd been writing a best-selling series of romance novels that starred them. When she sought psychiatric help, she'd met Dr. Max Aaronson. One kidnapping later, they were married and had a daughter, Charity. They called her CheChe.

  Myrtle had never thought that was an overly dignified name, but when CheChe bit her fingers, she decided the child probably didn't warrant a dignified name.

  After Grace and Max, they'd set out to find true love for Max's sister, Joy. They'd arranged for her to care for Gabriel St. John's daughter, Sophie. At first it hadn't appeared as if things were going to work out. Gabriel said he felt Joy was comfortable.

  Comfortable? What woman wanted to hear that? But soon enough, comfortable turned to uncomfortable, and they'd found their happily-ever-after. They now had a lovely son, Zeke, as well as Sophie.

  That left one Aaronson.

  Nick.

  Oh, he'd been tough. But they'd found him his perfect woman, an ex-corporate exec, turned restaurant owner named Glory.

  Through many hours of plotting and planning, they managed to move Glory to Erie. Unfortunately, Glory had a prejudice against lawyers. More unfortunately, Nick was one. But when Fiona, another godchild, sued Myrtle and her sisters because they promised h
er a happily-ever-after and she wasn't happy at all, Nick and Glory were forced to work together. When Bernie, the toad, posing as a judge for the case, held them in contempt, their fate was sealed.

  So was Bernie's, since Fiona's happily-ever-after was in his hands.

  "There it is,” Blossom called merrily, interrupting Myrtle's depressing thoughts. All their godchildren were happily in love, and what were they?

  Mortals for six months.

  Darn that Bernie.

  "Come on,” said Fern. “Hurry up."

  They opened the door of Glory's Chambers, the restaurant they'd helped renovate and open. The bell jangled merrily, admitting them into a retro-looking diner.

  Glory herself, her red hair in a ponytail and her smile as big as ever, walked over and said, “Hello, ladies. Please, take any table you want and someone will be with you in a moment."

  "You don't recognize us?” asked Blossom, a shaky little burr in her voice.

  Glory paused and studied them. “No, I'm sorry. Should I?"

  Blossom broke down in tears. “That's it. We're totally lost and alone here in the cruel world. We'll probably end up sleeping on the streets."

  "No we won't. Glory it's us, Fern, Blossom and me, Myrtle."

  Glory burst out laughing. “Oh, that's a good one. Did Max put you three up to this? It's good, but not good enough. But you get a free piece of pie for the effort. Now, take a seat and I'll be with you in a minute."

  Myrtle led her sisters to a booth.

  "Now what?” Blossom wailed. “She doesn't believe us. We'll be forced to wander the mean, cold streets of Erie."

  "It's not cold at all, Blossom,” Myrtle soothed. “Why it's almost balmy for an April day in Erie."

  "Still, I'm sure it will be cold tonight. We'll be huddled in some dark alley, freezing to death. Humans do that sort of thing, you know. Why, we're sitting here at Glory's table and don't even have money to pay for food. Humans have to eat food. So maybe we'll starve to death long before we freeze to death,” Blossom moaned.

  "Now, Blossom, I'm pretty sure we'd freeze long before we starved. I think it takes a while to starve,” Fern soothed.