thing you did. They really are the cutest couple.”
“All except for the part where the groom is best friends with Dr. Jackass,” Petty said. “I told her to answer his text, not to look at his dumb face.”
“His face really is dumb. I hate it,” Bluebonnet agreed. “Could we give him the frog pox? He deserves it.”
“I seem to recall we weren’t doing things of that nature anymore?” Petty asked, although she felt a surge of hope. She’d love to give him frog pox. In fact . . . “You know, if we’re going to be bad fairies, we could give him carnivorous anal warts? He has it coming.”
“Oh, yes! Like a colony of Venus flytraps but on his colon. I like it.” Bluebonnet munched harder.
“Sisters. Sisters,” Jonquil said. “Far be it from me to interrupt our little vengeance jag, but you know he’s going to get what he deserves. Fate will teach him his lessons. That’s not for us to do. We spread the love. Not the lessons. Remember?”
Petty crossed her arms. “Maybe I want to spread the lessons this time.”
“Uh-huh. Lesson,” Bluebonnet said in solidarity.
“Sisters.” Jonquil looked at each of them in turn with a stern frown.
“Fine,” Petty caved. “I know you’re right.”
“But fate isn’t going to give him anal warts,” Bluebonnet protested.
“She might,” Jonquil said helpfully.
“If we help her,” Petty said as she perked. Then she sagged in her chair. “No, I know you’re right. He just made me so mad.” Petty had to keep reminding herself that she’d learned her lesson about doing bad things to people.
“He makes us all mad, dearie.” Jonquil patted her arm. “Here, let’s make ourselves feel better. We can look at Jenn’s love thread.”
“Jenn?” Bluebonnet cocked her head to the side.
“The bride who lit her dress on fire? Duh.”
“Oh, right. Let’s.” Bluebonnet nodded.
The sisters all used their fairy godmother powers to peer at the threads of fate and love that were spread out before them.
Petty loved looking at the threads, it was one of her favorite things to do. They were so beautiful, and each thread represented the path of a soul. Her biggest problem had always been touching, but the threads were much like butterfly wings. No touching, at least not from this vantage point.
She could do things on the ground to move the threads, to balance them, to twine or unwind, but never with her actual fingers.
They found Jenn’s thread.
“How lovely! See?” Jonquil said.
Petty did indeed see. Jenn Gordon, on her not-honeymoon, with her tribe of girlfriends, had met the man of her dreams. And most every other woman’s, too. He was tall, dark, handsome, and . . . British. He was an actor in a popular franchise, and he just happened to be vacationing at the same time. It had been love at first sight.
Well, actually, it had been “cunning linguistics” at first sight in one of the hotel cabanas, but Petty could see it was true love.
She sighed. “Oh my. He really is quite handsome, isn’t he? How do mortal men that beautiful exist?”
“They don’t. He’s got a fairy in the woodpile. By the looks of it, a dark fairy. That’s why his cheekbones and jaw do that thing.” Jonquil nodded.
“You know what else does that thing?” Bluebonnet snickered. “Oh, our Jenn is a lucky lady.”
“Pish. He’s the lucky one,” Petty said.
“Too true,” Jonquil agreed. “He’s the luckiest to get dear Jenn. But . . . back to Zuri.”
“I’ve been looking up frog pox in Mama’s spell book, and it looks like the only cure for frog pox is to kiss the frog that infected her,” Petty offered.
Bluebonnet clapped her hands together. “That’s juicy! I love it.”
“Hmm. Could be a problem, though, because we’re going to have to tell Zuri about magic. She’s not ready for that. Not mentally, and definitely not emotionally,” Jonquil said.
“Oh, right. Because Phillip is going to have to tell her not only that he’s a frog, poor dear, but also what he did to get cursed,” Bluebonnet replied. “Damn.”
“You know, maybe it’s better that she finds out now. Then they can work on building trust.” Petty tapped her wand on the table as she considered.
Then she peered at the threads of fate again.
“Hmm. This will never do. Things are a mess!” she cried.
“What’s wrong, sister?” Bluebonnet asked.
“Stupid Prince Charming. I swear!” she muttered as she clenched her hands to keep from physically grabbing the threads and yanking on them. “Everything is tangled up.”
“How do you know it’s his fault?” Bluebonnet asked.
“Oh, because