“You aren’t fat!” Fazire snapped in outrage although, it wasn’t exactly true, she was past chubby but he’d never describe her as fat.
Her eyes flew to his and her mouth did some funny movements as if she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“I am fat, Fazire,” she said quietly and then pulled the Baby Ruth candy wrappers out of her jeans pocket and showed them to him.
“Oh Lily-child,” he moaned and did a little bit of genie magic, magic that was allowed for no one liked litter, not even genies, and in a snap of his fingers the wrappers were gone.
She stared at her hand. She knew he was a genie but it was always a bit shocking to be confronted with magic even though she’d seen it dozens of times before.
“Do you want to use one of your wishes so I can do something to this boy? Give him horns and a tail? Make him big as a blimp?” Fazire asked hopefully.
She shook her head, her mouth moving definitely in the way of one of the quirky smiles she’d inherited from her mother.
Her eyes, which had always been pretty no matter what anyone said (they were pale blue on the inside of the iris and dark, smoky, midnight blue on the outer edges) became thoughtful. Fazire thought her eyes were startling and lovely and Will swore they were from his side of the family though Fazire liked to take most of the credit for all that was Lily, he just didn’t tell Will that. Now he looked into her extraordinary eyes and waited.
“I do want to make a wish though,” she whispered.
Fazire was shocked.
Two wishes!
If she made a wish that would be two that were used, leaving her with only one.
This meant, if she used the last one he’d have to go away.
“Lily, think about this, my lovely. Think about it before you go wishing one of your wishes away on some, stupid boy,” Fazire warned rather sagely, for Fazire.
She continued to look into his eyes. “That boy today who called me fat, I liked him. As in liked him, liked him. He’s the cutest boy in school. The most popular. The…” She stopped and for some strange reason she picked up her romance novel then held it to her chest like a shield that might ward off evil.
Fazire had read a lot since becoming a human-sort-of-genie. He’d never read a romance novel though. He preferred Louis L’Amour.
“Fazire, I wish –” she began.
“Lily-child –” he interrupted but it was like she didn’t hear him, she kept talking.
“One day, I wish to find a man like in my books. He has to be just like in one of my books. And he has to love me, love me more than anything in the world. Most important of all, he has to think I’m beautiful.”
“Lily, I need to tell you something.” Fazire was going to tell her about Becky’s wish and his mistake and let her look forward to something, let her look forward to the incomparable beauty she was going to be.
Most of all, he had to stop her wish now. He didn’t want her wasting it on some fool idea. He wanted it to be special, perfect, to make her world better like she had made Becky and Will’s and, indeed, his.
But again she didn’t hear him. Her eyes were bright and they were steady on his.
“He has to be tall, very tall and dark and broad-shouldered and narrow-hipped.”
Fazire stared. He didn’t even know what “narrow-hipped” meant.
“And he has to be handsome, unbelievably handsome, impossibly handsome with a strong, square jaw and powerful cheekbones and tanned skin and beautiful eyes with lush, thick lashes. He has to be clever and very wealthy but hard-working. He has to be virile, fierce, ruthless and rugged.”
Now she was getting over his head. He didn’t think there was such a thing as impossibly handsome. How cheekbones could be powerful, Fazire didn’t know. He was even thinking he might have to look up “virile” in the dictionary Sarah had given him.
“And he has to be hard and cold and maybe a little bit forbidding, a little bit bad with a broken heart I have to mend or one encased in ice I have to melt or better yet… both!”
Fazire thought this was getting a bit ridiculous. It was the most complicated wish he’d ever heard.
But she wasn’t yet finished.
“We have to go through some trials and tribulations. Something to test our love, make it strong and worthy. And… and… he has to be daring and very masculine. Powerful. People must respect him, maybe even fear him. Graceful too and lithe, like a… like a cat! Or a lion. Or something like that.”
She was losing steam and Fazire had to admit he was grateful for it.
“And he has to be a good lover.” Lily shocked Fazire by saying. “The best, so good, he could almost make love to me just by using his eyes.”
Fazire felt himself blush. Perhaps he should have a look at these books she was reading and show them to Becky. Lily was a very sharp girl, sharp as a tack (another one of Sarah’s sayings, although Fazire couldn’t imagine a tack ever being as clever as Lily) but she was too young to be reading about any man making love to her with his eyes. Fazire had never made love, never would, genies just didn’t. But he was pretty certain fourteen year old girls shouldn’t be thinking about it.
Though, he was wrong about that, or at least Becky would tell him that later.
Then Fazire realised she’d stopped talking.
“Is that it?” he asked.
She thought for a bit, clearly not wanting to leave anything out.
Then she nodded.
“Are you sure you want this to be your wish?” Fazire asked.
She looked at him straight in the eye. Hers were sombre and direct.
Then she nodded again.
“Very well,” Fazire said on a sigh.
He opened his mouth to speak but she put her hand out to stall him, resting it on his arm. “Don’t forget that part about him loving me more than anything on earth.”
He lifted his goatee’ed chin in acknowledgement.
“And!” she burst out, squeezing his arm for emphasis, “The part about him thinking I’m beautiful.”
“Lily, you will be beautiful, you already are.”
Her chin quivered and he knew she was about ready to cry.
“Just don’t forget those parts, they’re the most important,” she reminded him, her voice shaky and, Fazire thought, terribly, unforgettably sad.
His hand covered hers on his arm.
“I won’t forget any of it.”
Then Fazire lifted his hand, put it on her head and said softly, “Lily, my lovely, your wish is my command.”