If Wishing Made It So (18 page)

Hildy seemed puzzled for a moment. Then she stole a glance at Tony G. He didn’t appear to be paying any attention to her, but continued an animated conversation with Mike’s witch of a fiancée. Hildy really couldn’t stand the woman.

Hildy nodded surreptitiously at Mike, and said to no one in particular, ‘‘Please excuse me while I use the ladies’.’’ She stood and headed for the stairs, which she descended with as much poise as she could in four-inch heels. She was lucky she didn’t break her neck, she thought. At the bottom of the flight, she was out of sight of the table where the others sat.

A minute later Mike came rushing toward her, taking the stairs two at a time. Not saying anything, he grabbed her arm and led her out of the restaurant into the hotel’s cavernous lobby past the huge marble statue of Caesar Augustus. He spotted a dim corner and steered her toward it.

Every millimeter of skin where his fingers touched Hildy’s arm vibrated with an exquisite tingling. When Tony G. had put his hand on her shoulder, she found it annoying, like a persistent fly. When Mike touched her, she caught fire. As they crossed the vast lobby floor, she knew she was headed for trouble, and she steeled herself to resist.

She didn’t have time to prepare herself, however, before Mike’s lips descended on hers. Caught unaware, she kissed him back. Swept away in a vortex of released desire, she sagged against him, clutching him as if she were drowning all over again and he offered rescue. But her surrender lasted only seconds before she took both her hands and shoved him away.

‘‘What do you think you’re doing!’’ Her eyes went from blue flame to glacial ice. ‘‘How dare you!’’

Mike immediately apologized. ‘‘I’m—I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. It’s just when I see you, I can’t think straight. I want—I need to touch you.’’

‘‘That’s a bit awkward, don’t you think, taking into account that your
fiancée
is sitting a few hundred feet away.’’

‘‘I don’t care about her. All I care about is you. Tell me you don’t want me, Hildy. I can tell that you do.’’

Hildy found she didn’t need to pretend to be angry when she answered. She was genuinely furious. ‘‘Just who or what do you think I am? You have no right to play with my feelings like this. You have chosen to make a serious commitment to another woman. That eliminates any possibility of your seeing me, or touching me, or kissing me. Now besides accosting me in a public place, why did you want me to leave the table?’’

Hildy slid farther away from Mike, out of his reach.

He moved toward her, closing the distance. ‘‘I needed to talk to you. You won’t return my calls.’’

‘‘So talk.’’ She crossed her arms across her chest.

‘‘I’m sorry about what happened. Last night. I wanted to apologize.’’ He sounded so lame and he knew it. He wasn’t sorry at all. He would do it again right now, if Hildy were willing.

‘‘What a load of horseshit, Michael Amante. Look, I’m not sorry it happened, but I can tell you that it will not happen again. You blew it. You can have your Kinky, Kiki, Wicki Wacky fiancée.’’

‘‘Hildy, please listen to me. I didn’t know that announcement was going to be in the paper. I didn’t have anything to do with it. Kiki went ahead and set a date for the wedding without telling me.’’

‘‘You never discussed it? It sounds like a terrific relationship you two have. But I guess that’s what you want.’’

‘‘No! That’s not what I want!’’ Mike surprised himself with the force of his response. He didn’t want to marry Kiki, so why was he going along with it? He had no good answer except that the meeting with Hildy had been so sudden and unexpected it turned his world upside down. Their lovemaking on the beach had happened as if by magic. He felt caught up in something beyond the ordinary.

Mike didn’t understand what was happening to him. He suspected he had fallen in love with Hildy all over again, only it wasn’t the same feeling as when he was a teenager. Now he had become a man unable to resist her, he had fallen under her spell, and he was in thrall to this woman in a way he had never felt with anyone before.

Mike had stepped so close, Hildy could feel the air move with his breath. She looked directly into his eyes. She spoke very deliberately and carefully. ‘‘I thought I knew you, but I am beginning to think you’ve changed so much that I don’t. And you know, Mike, you sound as if you’re confused about who you want in your life. But I’m not. I know what I want. Now, I need to get back to the table.’’

She began to walk away, then paused and turned to Mike. Her heart urged her to go back and throw herself in his arms, but she lifted her chin instead. ‘‘And I need to get back to my date.’’

Mike never returned to the restaurant. Kiki never seemed to notice. But as soon as they had all finished the entree, Hildy said to Tony that she really wanted to leave
now
. Exhaustion had overtaken her. Doubts filled her. She had either made the right move or lost Mike for good. She didn’t know which.

Hildy refused to accept the genie’s offer of a magic carpet ride back to Ship Bottom. The less she had to do with hocus-pocus, the better, as far as she was concerned. So as tired as she was, she insisted on driving them back, going north up the Garden State Parkway to Exit 63 and then turning eastward on Route 72 until they reached Long Beach Island. All the way, the genie kept reassuring her that she had done the right thing, and she had done it splendidly.

‘‘Alea jacta est,’’
he said.

Hildy nodded solemnly. Whether it had been the right thing or not, yes, the die had been cast.

Hildy reached Ship Bottom without incident. But as soon as she pulled her little red Volkswagen into the paved front yard of her cottage, she felt something was wrong. Tony G. sensed it too. ‘‘Wait here,’’ he ordered.

‘‘No way,’’ Hildy said, and sprinted for the front door. It was ajar. She pushed it wide and ran inside. ‘‘Shelley! Keats!’’ she cried frantically. No cats scampered to greet her.

She raced from room to room crying their names. Silence was her only answer. When she reached the kitchen, she stopped. Written in black Magic Marker on the door of the under-the-counter refrigerator were the words:
I got your cats. You got my bottle. I’ll be in touch.

Chapter 17

‘‘Do something,’’ Hildy demanded. ‘‘That maniac has my kitties and it’s all your fault!’’

Tony G. spread his legs wide. He crossed his arms in front of his chest like Yul Brynner in
The King and I.
He nodded and stamped his right foot. The air swirled in silver currents around him, as liquid as if it had turned to water. The temperature in the room dropped quickly. Hildy shivered in the chill.

When the air stilled, Tony G. again wore his toga. The laurel wreath sat on his head, its leaves bright green against his cap of dark curls. ‘‘
You
do something, Ms. Caldwell. You have the power. Just wish.’’

Hildy thought fast. Wishes were tricky. She couldn’t mess this up. She had to be extremely careful in the way she worded what she wanted. If she just wished for her cats to be returned, they wouldn’t necessarily have to be alive. She shuddered at the thought. ‘‘All right. I wish for my two cats, John Keats and Percy Bysshe Shelley, to be returned to me immediately, unharmed, healthy, alive, and unchanged in any way from their state before the abduction and with no memory of their terrifying experience.’’

As soon as the words left her mouth, the doorbellrang. Perplexed, she walked into the front room to see who it was. When she flung open the door, a tiny old woman stood there. A cat carrier sat at her feet.

‘‘Oh, my dear,’’ the elfin woman said, ‘‘I’m Joslyn Baier. I live right next door. I found your two cats outside my kitchen window a short time ago. They were having quite a conversation with my Henry; he’s a Siamese, you know. I can’t imagine how they escaped, but I knew you’d be sick with worry. I popped them into Henry’s carrier and brought them over the minute I saw you had returned.’’

‘‘Oh, how can I thank you, Mrs. Baier!’’ Hildy picked up the carrier from the doorstep and brought it inside. ‘‘Do come in. I’ll let them free, and you can take your carrier back.’’

After taking care that the front door had shut tightly behind them, Hildy opened the wire gate at the front of the carrier and her cats popped their heads out, blinking their yellow eyes, hesitant to rush free, seemingly a bit confused.

Hildy took Shelley into her arms, hugging him so tightly he soon struggled to be put down. Keats strolled out of the case, rubbed his head against her high heels, plopped himself down on her toes, and instantly fell asleep.

‘‘Oh, is this your husband, dear?’’ Joslyn Baier said, spotting Tony G., who had made no effort to disappear with her arrival.

Hildy’s head spun around. ‘‘My husband? No, no, this is a—a student of mine. He’s Italian. I’m teaching him English.’’

‘‘That’s nice, dear,’’ Mrs. Baier said. If she thought there was anything odd about Hildy, dressed to the nines, giving English lessons to a huge man wearing a toga after ten at night, she was polite enough not to mention it. ‘‘I must be going now. They’re very sweet cats. It was quite all right if they came to visit. Henry seemed to like them enormously. He could use some playmates. He’s an only child, you know.’’

Hildy handed her the carrier and thanked her again and again. Only after the elderly neighbor had left did she turn to Tony to express what was bothering her now that her cats were safe. ‘‘I don’t really understand why Jimmy the Bug took my cats. Didn’t he realize that I would simply wish to have them returned? It seems rather stupid.’’

Tony shook his great head. ‘‘Don’t underestimate the enemy. That’s a basic rule of engagement. Of course Jimmy the Bug knew you’d use one of your wishes to get your cats back. He also knows you now have only two wishes left. He’s going to find a way to box you in, where two wishes—or one wish if he gets you to use up another—won’t be enough to stop him. He’ll finesse you and make you return the bottle. Whatever his plan is, believe me, it’s already in motion. Stealing your cats was only his opening move.’’

Hildy went to bed filled with anxiety. She wanted her cats to join her. She wanted them where she could watch them and reassure herself they were safe, but it was much too warm. The temperature hovered in the eighties; only the breeze from the sea kept the little cottage from being stifling. Even so, the humidity left her feeling sticky and uncomfortable.

She looked over the edge of the sleeping loft. She could see the cats stretched out, their bellies pressed against the cool surface of the kitchen linoleum. ‘‘Ingrates!’’ she called down to them. They didn’t stir. She gave up, pulled the sheet over her, and switched off the light.

Tony had assured her he would keep guard. Hildy knew she should feel safe, but as soon as she fell asleep she was chased in her dreams by a giant bug with great sharp pincers reaching toward her. She woke frequently, but each time she dozed off, the dream came back again.

Hildy was not the only one unable to get a good night’s rest. Mike had finally returned to his hotel suite after the bars closed, barely able to stand after the four more, or perhaps five more, vodka martinis he had consumed.

When he stumbled into the bedroom, he discovered Kiki fast asleep. He called her name. She didn’t wake, but made ladylike snoring sounds as she slumbered on. He cursed about getting back so late and mumbled to himself. By the second martini he had made up his mind to have it out with Kiki.

Seeing Hildy tonight had taken away any doubts. What was he waiting for? For some slick Italian count to snatch her up? As far as he was concerned the wedding to Kiki was off. He wanted Hildy. The only way to get her was to end this sham of an engagement. He wasn’t going to be forced into marriage. This was the twenty-first century, not the Middle Ages.

Determined to make a clean break with Kiki as soon as she awakened, Mike stretched out on the sofa, putting his arm over his eyes. The room spun crazily. He vowed to never touch another martini. Alcohol never solved anybody’s problems. He had been a fool to get so drunk. The mother of all hangovers would greet him tomorrow morning.

Within minutes, he had passed out rather than fallen asleep. His mouth fell open and he snored loudly. Sometime during what was left of the night, he got the vague notion that Hildy was lying next to him on the sofa. He smiled and reached for her. She had taken off her clothes.
Wasn’t that considerate of her?
he thought.

Somewhere in the still rational parts of his brain, he wondered how she had gotten into his hotel room, but he was too happy to care. He nuzzled her neck—at least he thought he did. He pressed himself against her and lost consciousness again. He didn’t remember anything at all after that.

When he opened his eyes at dawn’s early light, he moaned. His stomach felt raw. A sledgehammer rhythmically whacked the inside of his skull. He couldn’t seem to move. He panicked that he had somehow become paralyzed. Then he understood there was some kind of weight on his left side pinning him down.

He gingerly opened one eye. The morning sun streaming through the window cut into his pupil like a laser. He turned his head to see what was immobilizing his arm. To his horror, he saw the long, glossy black strands of Kiki’s hair spread across his shoulder, and there, unmistakably spooned against him with great familiarity, was the graceful curve of her naked back.

‘‘Oh no,’’ he groaned, feeling sick. ‘‘What have I done?’’

Chapter 18

At about the same hour, along the eastern edge of Long Beach Island, dawn had broken over the Atlantic. A faint hint of vermilion softened the horizon line like a blush on the cheek of an angel. Black skimmers and common herring gulls wheeled against the brightening blue, their plaintive calls like a woman crying. A spotted sandpiper scampered at the water’s edge. But this magical interlude between the end of night and the arrival of day ended quickly. The sun rose as if yanked up like a yo-yo on a string, promising to bring back the blistering heat and suffocating humidity even as the hour struck seven.