Be Careful What You Wish For Read online

  At that moment, Nana walked into the room, followed by a man with iron gray hair and not a stitch of clothing on. It hardly mattered though because he had so much body hair it looked like he was wearing a furry gray jacket and trousers.

  “No, Sir Percy,” Nana was saying firmly, a grim look on her face. “I will not remove my clothing on our first date—or our second or our third, or for any date for that matter! You never told me you went around all day with your, er, dangly bits hanging out! Aren’t you cold?”

  “The fire of justice keeps me warm!” The gray-haired man lifted his shaggy head proudly. He had a walrus mustache as iron gray as the hair on his head and body. “I reject the dysfunction of our culture of body shaming and lies!” he boomed.

  “Sir Percy is right!” someone in the crowd shouted. “Nudity and justice for all! No one should be ashamed to be naked in the skin God gave them.”

  “Here, here!” Several of the nudists raised their plastic wine glasses and cheered.

  Great—her art showing was turning into a social justice rally for senior nudists, Cass thought dismally. What else could go wrong?

  At that moment, there was a tapping on the front door and then it opened and in came a familiar face. Cass’s heard sank when she saw it was Lady Blankenship—dressed in a smart, little black dress that probably cost more than a luxury sedan. Behind her came about six other women, all dressed in the same style. They were laughing and talking together as they entered but gradually their conversation began to die away as they took in the contents of the room.

  “Oh my God,” Cass muttered to herself and rushed over to try and salvage the situation. “Lady Blankenship,” she said quickly. “Oh, er—I mean, Ms. Blankenship—it was so nice of you to come tonight.”

  “Yes, well…” Lady Blankenship’s sharp green eyes went wide as she looked around at the living art, naked patrons, wine-guzzling clones, and the fairy floating in the middle of the ceiling. “This is…quite a gathering,” she managed at last. Her eyes flicked from the naked clones and nude seniors to Cass’s richly bejeweled ball gown. “I really don’t know if I’m over or under dressed.”

  “You’re just perfect,” Cass assured her. “And I’m so glad you could come tonight to my display of…of…” Suddenly she had an inspiration. “My display of living art.”

  “Living art, is it?” Lady Blankenship’s perfectly on-fleek eyebrows rose skyward. “Well now, that’s something new.” She eyed one of the paintings that had come to life—it was the one of Jake from the back, Cass saw, and of course it was completely naked. Just seeing it made Cass’s throat feel tight with unshed tears but she pushed them back and looked away.

  “Let me show you around,” she said quickly. “And please don’t mind the nude patrons. They represent the, uh…the um…” She racked her brains, searching for an explanation. “They represent the way seniors are treated in our country. We don’t respect our elders anymore and as a consequence we leave them naked and alone in a cold, heartless world.”

  “Oh!” Lady Blankenship nodded and her face cleared. “Performance art too! Very interesting. Please, do go on.”

  Cass did, trying to point out the art as well as she could, though much of it was moving all around, and to ignore the naked patrons and clones. Josh and Phil were still doing their best to serve whatever drinks and snacks they could find in the kitchen—since the clones had eaten and drunk almost everything at the bar—but soon everyone in Lady Blankenship’s party had a plastic glass of wine and something to nibble on as they walked through the “exhibit.”

  To her cautious relief, Cass was beginning to think she might actually somehow pull this off, despite all the craziness happening all around her. Lady Blankenship and her fellow art critics commented several times on what a “unique” show it was and they all seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely.

  “I must say, my dear, this is so much better than Albert’s dinky little gallery,” Lady Blankenship said to her as she nibbled a third petit four. “He never throws a gala this interesting. He could learn a thing or two from you.”

  “And the art is exquisite,” one of the other ladies murmured, eyeing one of the naked living Jake paintings. “You’re very talented, dear. I definitely want to take some of this home tonight.”

  “Thanks, so much. I’m so glad you’re enjoying my work.” Cass tried to sound happy but inside she still felt like someone had hollowed out her heart. All the craziness of the night couldn’t make her forget that she’d just lost the man she loved and he was never coming back.

  But then things got a whole lot crazier.

  Breena had been floating up by the ceiling and doing something with her wand which looked a little like a baseball pitcher winding up for the pitch. Suddenly she seemed to feel ready to go because she shouted at the top of her lungs,

  “By the power of my wand

  By the power of three,

  I put things right

  As they ought to be!”

  * * *

  As she spoke the words, she waved her wand madly, sending showers of silver glitter and pink sparks down on everyone’s head. Several of the naked patrons yelped and smacked at the stinging sparks when they landed on more sensitive areas.

  At once, everything tripled itself.

  Suddenly there were three dementor mothers with three dementor babies…three junk monkeys running amok…three blue cubist nightmares staggering around the living room and worst of all…no less than thirty drunk Brandon clones clamoring for cookies.

  “Oh!” gasped Lady Blankenship, who was suddenly elbow to elbow with naked seniors on one side and living art on the other. “Oh, my—how did you do that, my dear? It’s getting a bit crowded in here, don’t you think?”

  “It certainly is,” Cass had to agree. The house on States Street was large but it hadn’t been meant to hold so many people at once, especially since many of them weren’t even people.

  She looked up at Breena who had a perplexed look on her face, as though she was trying to figure out why her spell hadn’t worked.

  “Breena!” she shouted, trying to make herself heard over the racket. “Breena please, reverse it again! That didn’t work—reverse it!”

  “I didn’t put enough power into it,” the new fairy godmother called back. “That’s the problem! Just settle down, my dear—I’ll figure this out!”

  Waving her wand again, she chanted loudly,

  “By the power of three,

  By my wand’s pink glow,

  The magic in this room,

  Will grow and grow!”

  * * *

  Suddenly, to Cass’s horror, all the living art began to expand in size. Had she thought Nana’s living room was crowded before? Now it was positively packed as the living sculptures began to swell to three times their original dimensions. The three junk monkeys were beginning to look like huge gorillas and the dementor mothers and babies became horrific monstrosities moaning and reaching boney hands to the sky. The thirty clones were all nine feet high and still growing, shouting in hoarse, terrifying voices for cookies.

  Lady Blankenship and her friends as well as the naked seniors from the Lake Como Resort started trying to get out the front door. But it was blocked by one of the cubist nightmares which had plunked its square blue body right in the doorway and wasn’t budging.

  “Oh my God, this is awful!” Cass heard a voice gasp beside her. Turning her head, she saw it was Phil.

  “Tell me about it,” she snapped. “Everything’s a big fat mess!”

  “We have to stop it somehow!” Phil exclaimed. “This new FG is awful! We need help. But who in the world can counteract a fairy’s magic?”

  “I know who can help,” Cass said reluctantly. But the thought of calling for that help was like a fist clenched in her gut. She felt she would almost rather be crushed to death in the crazy crowd of clones, nudists, and living art than ask to be rescued by him.

  But she couldn’t only think about herself, she