Philippa Fisher's Fairy Godsister by Liz Kessler

Author:Liz Kessler [Kessler, Liz]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Candlewick Press
Published: 0100-12-31T22:00:00+00:00

As the day went on, I kept thinking about my first wish and wondering if I’d really made the best use of it. I mean, OK, Dad had been really embarrassing and made me feel like I stood out in front of my friends sometimes. And Mom could be a bit of a pain. But had they honestly been all that bad? And had changing them really made a major difference in my life? Was I truly any happier now?

Mom was chatting with her new friends again when I got out of school. “See you tonight,” she called over her shoulder to them as we got in the car. By the time we were halfway home, it occurred to me that she hadn’t even asked how my day had been. Mind you, I hadn’t asked about hers, either. The more I thought about it, the more I felt dumbstruck. I didn’t know what to say to my own mom.

I went straight to my room when we got back. I was lying on my bed, reading “How to Snake-Charm a Pencil,” when there was a knock on my door.

Mom’s face poked in. “Sweetheart, shouldn’t you be doing your homework?” she asked.

“I’ll do it in a minute. Just want to finish reading this trick.”

“I’d rather you did it now,” Mom said firmly.

I closed the book. Mom had never nagged me about homework before. And I’d never turned anything in late. Why the big fuss? I wanted to say something, but it all felt pointless. “OK,” I said instead. But there were some strange feelings bubbling and curdling around in my stomach. Anger. Injustice. Frustration. It just wasn’t fair!

“And I’d like you to make yourself scarce when Mrs. Hastings comes over later. We’ve got some private matters to discuss. I’ll make your dinner earlier, all right?”

“What about Dad?” I asked.

“What about him?”

“Will he eat with me?”

“Don’t be silly, darling. Your father will be at the office. You know it’s his late night tonight.”

“But he was out last night, too.”

“He’s a busy man. And a successful one, too. Would you rather he was at home all the time and we couldn’t afford to buy decent food?”

I was about to answer. Yes, I would, actually! I wanted to say. I would rather he was home! I don’t care where you get our dinner from; I’d just like to feel that we’re a family again. I want my dad bounding around doing magic tricks; I want you to be interested in me, not just plot my education with the snobby moms. I even want . . .

My thoughts stopped dead. When they started again, I was shocked to discover what they were. I even want our stupid, old, bright-yellow VW van back, and I don’t care if Dad embarrasses me on the way to school. At least you both cared about me before. At least you noticed me.

“No, of course not, Mom,” I said, instead of any of that. “Sorry.” I put my magic book down and got out my homework.

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