Fazire watched Lily as she pushed her bike up the lane which was awash in the vibrant autumn colours he liked so much in Indiana.

He was frowning and he was doing this because he saw that Lily was sad.

He didn’t like Lily sad but Lily was sad a great deal of the time these days.

She never used to be sad.

She was so very loved, so loved that the minute she was born – well, a couple of hours later because luckily Fazire had not been present at the birth, he’d heard stories about it and felt his absence was a wish granted to him – Becky had given her two last wishes to her new daughter.

Lily was so smart, she walked before other babies did, she talked before they did. Later, she read before other children did. Now she was two grades ahead of the other kids at school, she was so smart.

And she was supremely vivacious, happy, smiley and loving. One hug from Lily and your whole world turned golden. She gave the absolute best hugs.

And the minute she could string three words together, she started to tell stories. And they were always the best stories… ever.

If she was talking about something that really happened, she could make the most mundane happening entertaining. But it was even better when she made up stories from scratch, those were the absolute, most bestest, best.

And she was funny. She could make even old lady Kravitz laugh and old lady Kravitz never laughed.

Everyone loved Lily, even old lady Kravitz.

There was a lot to love. Lily was, quite simply, perfect.

Except…

Fazire had to admit that he had made a wee, little mistake when he healed Becky’s womb and made it fruitful and set the wish that would be Lily.

He should have made her become beautiful a little quicker.

Or, at the very least, pretty.

He used the excuse to himself that he didn’t know.

He’d been created by the Divine One as a full grown genie. Then he’d gone to Genie Training School where you had to pay attention because if you didn’t and you messed up a wish or didn’t follow Genie Code, well, the consequences didn’t bear thinking about.

Fazire had never been to human school. He didn’t know how cruel children could be.

And Lily, although not ugly, was plain. And being so smart made other children think she was strange. And they made fun of her.

Sarah, Becky and Will worried about Lily. Well, Sarah and Becky did, it made Will madder than the dickens (this, a phrase Sarah had taught him and Fazire still didn’t know what “the dickens” was but he figured it was pretty bad by the way Sarah said it).

As the school years went by, more and more Lily would come home like she did today.

Sad.

He hid himself as she came into the house (as he did most days) and watched her surreptitiously steal the three Baby Ruth candy bars (named after one of Fazire’s heroes, Babe Ruth, a great baseball player who was nearly as round as Fazire).

She grabbed her ever-present book (another in a hundred romance novels that he knew she read) and ducked back out of the house. Fazire watched as she walked down the sloping lawn to hide herself in the trees at the bottom by the curve of the gravelled lane.

He knew exactly what she’d do. She’d eat the candy bars. She might even steal a few more. Then she’d have a big dinner and dessert. She would also, maybe, steal something else to eat before she went to bed.

Fazire liked his food but Lily didn’t. She didn’t eat because she liked it, she ate because… well Fazire didn’t know why.

And Lily was getting heavy. Not getting heavy anymore, she was beyond chubby.

And she read those books like, well, he knew why because Becky told him. They were her escape.

Somehow, Fazire knew, this was all because of the kids at school.

Now was the first time he ever wished one of his mistresses would ask for vengeance. If he even heard one of children saying cruel things to her like what Will told Fazire they were probably saying, he might do a wish for himself (which was outside of Genie Code) and blast the consequences.

Stupid, ignorant, jealous children.

He waited until she’d eaten the candy bars and hidden the wrappers like he knew she did then he walked down to join her.

She was sitting in a bed of dried fallen leaves the colours of red, brown, yellow and orange, some of the leaves even had all four colours, in one single leaf. Her back was pressed to the trunk of a tree. Her white-blond head was bent over her romance novel.

But she wasn’t reading, she was crying.

“What’s happened, Lily?” Fazire asked quietly.

She jumped and stared up at him, the tears glistening wet on her face.

“Fazire!” She tried to hide behind her smile but it was shaky. He’d seen her don her mask of false happiness a hundred times but he caught her before she could slip it firmly in place.

“Don’t you try hiding from me, Lily-child. This is Fazire you’re talking to. I know all,” he stated grandly in his best genie-in-a-bottle voice.

To his shock she didn’t make a joke or a further attempt to hide. She burst into uncontrollable, body-wracking, fourteen-year-old girl tears.

“Oh, Fah… Fah… Fazire. It’s was awful.”

Without hesitating he sat down next to her in the leaves (oh, his genie friends would just be horrified at him putting his greater-than-the-earth genie bottom on a bed of dead leaves), pulled her in his arms and let her cry it out.

“Tell me about it Lily. Get it out. Your Grammy said to me that she didn’t talk about her Jim missing in the war and she should have right when she knew it happened. Don’t bottle it in, my lovely. I know what being bottled in is all about!”

She giggled just a little and shook her head, getting herself under control.

“It’s silly, Fazire.” She tried to be brave but wasn’t succeeding. “Just, a boy at school said something about me… about, well, about me being fat.” She gave a little shudder and continued to look at the ground.

“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.”