I do not own Glee nor the original novel "Wishes" written by Jude Devaraux. I just simply borrowing the amazing story and put my OTP in it. All credits go to the amazing author.
The Junction
Santana left the Gourmet Room, and immediately she was once again wearing her burial suit. She had been eating for quite some time, eating all the delicious things she'd denied herself on earth in order to stay slim, but now she was standing in the hall and thinking. Tina appeared out of the fog.
"Have you been to the Fantasy room yet?" she asked. Santana's eyes widened. "What kind of fantasy?"
"Anything you want"
Santana perked up. "Witches? Prince Charming?"
"Anything" Tina stepped toward a golden arch, Santana was behind her, but she halted.
"I was wondering what happened to Mercedes. Did she lose some weight? Did she marry her hunk?"
"She lost some weight, but she doesn't see Mr. Evans anymore. He's still in Lima, but I think he's about to give up hope. Mercedes won't see him. Right through here is the Fantasy room"
"Wait a minute. Why doesn't she see Evans? I thought he'd like her when she lost weight"
"Mr. Evans loves her – his love has nothing to do with her size – but Mercedes is bound by the wishes you gave her. She can't leave her father's house and disturb the comfort of her father and sister"
"Oh" Santana said, looking down at her feet. "I never meant to do her harm. She seemed like a nice kid I thought -,"
"What does a fatty like Mercedes matter anyway?"
"Mercedes matters. Look at the way she was always helping people. People like that count. Mercedes never -,"
Santana stopped because Tina had stepped through the Fantasy arch and the fog had cleared. Before them was indeed a scene out of Santana's wildest dreams. A beautiful young woman, wearing a clinging pink silk gown, was chained to a post. Before her was a large but rather cute dragon, with a forked tongue and fire coming out of his nostrils, fighting an incredibly handsome, muscular, dark-haired man wearing chain mail. Santana nearly swooned.
"Come on" Tina said. "You can be the maiden"
Santana took two steps forward, then stopped. "No, I want to see about Mercedes"
"Mercedes can wait. Did you see the man's horse?"
The fog cleared to the right, and there was a beautiful black stallion draped in red silk. Santana swallowed and took a step backward. "No" she tried to say firmly, but her voice quavered. "I want to see Mercedes"
Abruptly, fog closed over the scene and Santana let out a sigh of relief. She grinned at Tina. "Anyway, I'd never be able to choose between the man and the dragon"
"Your choice" Tina said, and she led the way through the fog to the arch of the Viewing Room.
Santana settled down on the banquette and watched as the fog before her cleared and she saw the Jones living room. Mercedes was there, putting branches of pine along the mantelpiece.
"She looks great" Santana said. Mercedes had lost some weight. She wasn't slim as Santana wanted her but she was curvy and she looked beautiful. "She looks prettier than her little sister, so, what's the problem? Why doesn't she have Evans? In fact, why isn't she at some party? Looking like that, she could have any man"
"Mercedes has never been much interested in appearances. All she's ever wanted was to love and be loved. Mr. Evans senses that"
Santana watched Mercedes hanging up Christmas decorations, tying greenery along the banister. She was so pretty now, but in her face was a deep, deep sadness. When Santana had first seen her, Mercedes had been fat, but she didn't look sad as she did now. Santana couldn't understand it. On earth, she'd spent many thousands of dollars for plastic surgery so she could look half as good as Mercedes, yet here Mercedes was, with a face that could cause a war, a body better than any centerfold, and she was all alone and looking miserable.
"So, why doesn't she go after him?" Santana snapped.
"Two reasons; because of the wish you gave her and because Mercedes doesn't know how. You can't just put wolf's clothing on a sheep and expect the sheep to turn into a wolf. Mercedes is Mercedes, whether she's fat or not"
Santana turned away from the scene, putting her hand to the side of her eyes. "I can't bear to see any more"
Tina waved her hand, and Mercedes and the room disappeared.
"So now, what happens?" Santana asked.
"That's up to you. We supply the -,"
"Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm supposed to supply the wisdom. I haven't been exactly wise so far, have I?"
"Oh, well, what does one fatty more or less matter?"
Santana winced. "You've made your point. So maybe I was wrong. You said Evans loves her. Would she be with him now if she wasn't bound by the wish?"
"Probably, but who knows? One can't predict these things"
Santana looked at the fog. "I would like to know more about Mercedes. Is it possible to see all of her life? From the beginning?"
"Of course" Tina waved her hand, and there was a pretty woman in a Victorian bed straining to give birth.
"I'll leave you" Tina said, rising. "I'll return when it's nearer Christmas 1896"
Santana waved her hand absently and stretched out to watch. She'd already learned that time in the Junction wasn't like earth time. The scenes seemed to fly past. Santana saw that from the beginning, Mercedes was a quiet, solemn, eager-to-please child. Her mother wasn't well, so Mercedes was never allowed to make even the smallest sound; and since her father's business had made little money in its early days, Mercedes always had many chores. As a reward for all her obedience, Mercedes was pretty much ignored by her parents.
When Mercedes was eight, her mother gave birth to Irene, then was seriously ill until she died four years later. But Mercedes didn't mind caring for the child. She held the screaming infant and looked at it with love. For the first time ever, she was going to have someone who would return her love.
After his wife died, Dwayne Jones seemed to have no qualms about leaving his twelve years old daughter with the responsibility of caring for the baby. Mercedes was a good mother, but she was so starved for affection that she gave the baby anything she wanted, so that Irene grew up believing that Mercedes had been put on earth solely to do Irene's bidding.
In adolescence, Mercedes began to gain weight. Santana saw the way boys flirted with Mercedes, making her blush, and how she looked back at them. Then, at home, Dwayne would forbid Mercedes to go out and leave the toddler alone. Mercedes would go to the kitchen and ate. By the time Santana got to 1896, she really understood Mercedes' life. Mercedes had no idea how to fight for what she wanted. All she knew was how to give. Santana watched as Sam Evans came into Mercedes' life, saw the way she blossomed under his love, and Santana smiled warmly. Mercedes deserved to have someone loved her, deserved to stop being a slave to her father and sister.
Things changed when Mercedes started giving her three wishes away, and Santana felt herself grew smaller. She hadn't meant to hurt Mercedes. Heaven helped her, Mercedes had had enough pain in her life, and she didn't need any more, but the wishes had increased Mercedes' burdens.
Santana watched Mercedes at the Harvest Ball and thought she looked beautiful. She was so in love that her entire body glowed. After the ball, Santana saw what Irene did with Sam – sending the phony telegram, then stealing Sam's letters to Mercedes and hiring some poor woman to write replies to him so he'd think Mercedes had answered him.
"You conniving little manipulator" Santana muttered. She watched as Sam returned to town, then saw the scene when Irene pretended to be ill. Santana heard Sam asked Mercedes to leave with him, and she heard Mercedes said she could not leave. "Because of the third wish" Santana said aloud. At last she came to Mercedes hanging the greenery in the parlor. It was two days since Sam had asked her to leave with him and three days before Christmas. The scene became covered with fog.
"What shall it be?" Tina asked. "More wishes?"
"Can I go back to earth and help Mercedes?"
"Go back to earth? You want to leave the Junction? Leave here for all the nastiness of earth? You know, you didn't see all of the Indulgence Room. They have chocolate mountains in there and it's not wimpy milk chocolate but that really deep, rich, dark chocolate. You can eat all you want and never gain an ounce"
Santana hesitated as she imagined chocolate mountains. "No" she said firmly. "I want to return to earth. Mercedes needs a teacher. She's no match for that sister of hers. She needs some help"
"But I though you like Irene. I believed you said she reminded you of yourself"
"Irene is exactly like me, and that's why I need to fight her"
"Fight her?" Tina said. "But I thought you wanted to make her into Cinderella"
"She already thinks she is Cinderella. What right does she have to take everything away from Mercedes? Mercedes is a hundred times the person she is. Can I go to earth or not?"
Tina smiled. "You may go, but the limit is three days, and I warn you, these visits rarely work out"
"I'll take my chances. Now, I'll need to know some about the family. I plan to arrive as the Jones family's long-lost relative, their very rich relative. Do you think I might have a wardrobe, something beautiful?"
"I think something might be arranged. There are rules, though. What has happened stands. You cannot change what Mercedes has already wished"
"I don't plan to disturb her family's comfort" Santana said with a smile. "They'll be the most comfortable family in America"
"And three days" Tina said. "That's all the time you have"
"I won my second husband in three days, and I didn't resort to magic. How about a hat with an ostrich plume? And how about shoes with lots of buttons?"
"I hope you do this well" Tina said softly.
"I always get what I want. Irene doesn't stand a chance against me"
Tina sighed. "All right then, come along. We'll embed you in the memory of the Jones so they have some knowledge of Aunt Santana, then we'll send you down"
"And clothes" Santana said. "Don't forget clothes. How about an amber necklace?"
"You will have all the clothes you want. I hope I don't regret this – and, more importantly, that Mercedes doesn't regret this"
"Don't worry. When it comes to being a bitch, I wrote the book"
"That's a book I don't want to read" Tina mumbled as she started walking.
Lima, Ohio
1896
"How rich?" Irene asked, biting into one of Mercedes' crispy apple tarts.
"Very wealthy" Dwayne said, putting down the letter. "And she has no other relatives besides us. It's my belief that she wants to choose one of you as her heiress"
"One of us?" Irene asked, glancing sideways at Mercedes, who was sitting at the far end of the dining room. As usual, Mercedes wasn't paying attention. Not that Mercedes was ever a barrel of laughs, but in the last two days, since that man had come storming into the house, Mercedes had been a veritable gloom factory.
"Why just one of us?"
"She says she doesn't want her fortune divided. She wants it kept intact after her death, so I take that mean she plans to leave it all to just one of you"
"Mmm" Irene said thoughtfully. "I do wish you'd told us of her visit before the day of her arrival"
"I can't think why I didn't" Dwayne said, genuinely puzzled. "I'm sure I knew about the visit, but I don' know why I never said anything"
"Oh, well" Irene said, licking her fingers. "I shall do my best to take care of her. Mercedes, you had best stay in the kitchen and cook. Your wonderful cooking will please Aunt Santana, I'm sure"
Mercedes didn't bother to reply. She pushed the food about on her plate. For once in her life, she wasn't hungry. Being hungry meant that you were alive, and right now Mercedes didn't feel very alive.
Irene turned to Mercedes and studied her. Yes, it would be much better to keep Mercedes away from this rich relative. Irene wouldn't have worried about the fat Mercedes engendering love, but this new Mercedes, beautiful, unconsciously graceful, caused people to look at her twice. For the life of her, Irene couldn't figure out what about Mercedes caused people to care so much about her. Miss Shelby, the nosy old hag, constantly asked after Mercedes, as did whole churches full of people. Irene assumed it had to do with the way Mercedes kept giving their food away to the grubby kids of Lima. No one ever thought to thank their father for paying for the food, nor did they thank Irene for having to do without because Mercedes spent their family's money on other people. No, everyone just saw Mercedes playing Lady Bountiful.
Now, Mercedes looked like the heroine of a tragic play – with her big doe-like eyes full of misery. Everyone who saw her seemed to be filled with pity for her. But why? Irene wondered. She'd come close to marrying a very rich man – not that Mercedes deserved him – and in the end, she'd done the right thing by staying with her family. So, why was she trying to make everyone else feel miserable? Irene knew Mercedes' moroseness was meant to punish her, Irene, but no one else seemed to realize that. That stupid Brittany S. Pierce said yesterday that she felt almost like telling Mercedes the truth about Mr. Evans – that he hadn't kissed any other woman in Lima.
"Except me" Irene had said, and she turned on her heel and walk away. Why were people such fools? Irene wondered. Why couldn't they see that Mercedes was so much better off with her family? Who knew what this Evans was like? Maybe he was abusive to women. Maybe he drank. Maybe he was an impostor and not really rich at all. Maybe Irene had saved Mercedes from a fate worse than death. Anyway, Irene thought, forget about that man; there was Aunt Santana to think about. Irene thought she would make an excellent heiress. Paris, Rome, San Francisco, she thought. Furs, jewels and houses.
Irene looked again at Mercedes. She'd better kept this rich aunt away from Mercedes – in case she was one of those do-gooders who would fall for Mercedes' sad face. Irene didn't mean to lose a fortune just because Mercedes was temporarily a little upset.
"I think I'll make up some menus" Irene said thoughtfully. "We must not skimp while Aunt Santana is here" She smiled at Mercedes, thinking of the complicated dishes she'd order. Mercedes wouldn't get out of the kitchen for a week, and as Aunt Santana's visit was only going to be for three days …
Mercedes was in the kitchen when she heard the commotion of her aunt arriving. She didn't go out to greet her because Irene and her father were there. She heard her father's voice raised and the sound of men grunting as they carried trunks up the stairs. After a half hour or so, Mercedes prepared a tray with a mug of hot cider and a plate of Christmas cookies to take to her aunt. Just as she was leaving the kitchen, Irene burst in.
"She brought six trunks of clothes with her" Irene said, partly in horror, partly in admiration. "And, she's fifty, if she's a day, but she doesn't have a line in her face"
"That's lovely for her"
"Perhaps" Irene picked up a cookie and munched it thoughtfully. "There's something about her that I don't trust. There's something in her eyes"
"Maybe she's lonely. Didn't father say she lived alone?"
"It's not loneliness. I can assure you of that. There's something I don't understand in her eyes"
Mercedes pushed open the kitchen door. "I'll just take her some food and say hello"
Santana sat in the parlor and smoothed her velvet skirt. She liked these ornate Victorian clothes; no synthetic fibers, lots of hand embroidery, intricate detailing. What she didn't like was Irene. It hadn't taken Santana but moments to see that Irene was out to get what she could for herself. Santana looked at her ad smiled and thought: I'll get you, brat, and I won't need to resort to magic.
When Mercedes entered the room, Santana's face softened – for she recognized the goodness in Mercedes. All the images Santana had seen of Mercedes' childhood flashed before her eyes, and before she thought, she gave Mercedes a radiant smile. Irene, just behind Mercedes, saw the smiled and vowed to find out what it meant, but she betrayed no weariness as she offered her Aunt Santana cookies and cider from the tray Mercedes held. An hour later, Irene was able to slip away from the house and find the dreadful child who called himself Duke.
"Well?" Irene demanded of the boy. He wouldn't speak until she'd put a quarter in his hand. "Have you been watching the hotel liked I told you to?"
"Sure thing, and this morning, there was a message in Evans's box. I didn't see nobody put it in there, it was just there"
"Did you get it?" she snapped impatiently. He handed her the note, and she read it quickly. It was an invitation to a luncheon today at the Jones house, and it was signed by Mercedes. But Irene knew the note hadn't been written by Mercedes; the way it was worded wasn't the way Mercedes would write. She crumpled the note in her hand. It had have to be written by this Aunt Santana, but how had she found out about Mercedes and the Evans man?
"She's just like all the others" Irene muttered. "They all think of Mercedes, and no one thinks of me"
"What's that?" the boy asked.
"None of your business. Now go back and continue watching"
The boy snorted and walked away, hands in his pockets, whistling.
As Irene started back to the house, she began to plan. She didn't know why this Aunt Santana was here or what she wanted, but Irene meant to find out. When Irene returned, her Aunt Santana was in the guest bedroom, lounging on the bed eating chocolates and reading one of Irene's novels.
"There you are, my dear" Santana said. "I was hoping you'd return soon. You will help me unpack, won't you?"
"Mercedes will -," Irene began, then smiled radiantly. Better to keep those two apart. "I would be delighted to help"
Two hours later, Irene was furious, but she managed to hide it. She hadn't 'helped' Santana: she had done all the work of struggling with the trunks, opening them so they formed short closets, then inspecting everything to make sure nothing as damaged. The sight of the dresses alone was enough to make Irene vowed to do anything to make Aunt Santana left everything to her, but the jewels nearly undid her.
"What is this?" she asked, holding up a long tube of what looked to be green glass.
"Actually, it's a magic wand. One long emerald" Santana said. Irene gave a little smile – further angered that Santana would make fun of her. There's something wrong here, Irene thought again.
Luncheon came and went, and Santana was puzzled as to why Sam didn't come. He had seemed to genuinely liked Mercedes. So, why didn't he accept Mercedes' invitation? Perhaps a note wasn't strong enough; perhaps Sam needed to see Mercedes in person. After luncheon, Santana suggested Irene took a nap.
"You have worked so hard today, helping me. You deserves a little rest"
"I do feel tired" Irene said, yawning. "I think I will take a nap" She went upstairs, climbed into bed fully clothed, and pulled the spread over her, concealing that she still wore her day clothes. Ten minutes later, she heard the door softly opened, and she saw Santana peeked in at her and then silently closed the door again.
Santana went downstairs to the kitchen, where Mercedes was already working on dinner, and sat down on the other side of the big table.
"You and I haven't had much time to talk, have we?"
"No" Mercedes said, trying to smile, but she didn't feel much like smiling. Santana once again felt guilty. It was her fault Mercedes was stuck in the kitchen now. If Santana hadn't interfered, Mercedes would probably be on her honeymoon right now.
"Mercedes, if you could have one wish in the world, what would it be?"
Sam, Mercedes instantly thought, but she stamped down the idea. "I guess, I'd want my family to be happy"
"You mean, to get what they deserve in life?"
"Oh, no!" Mercedes said, then she realized how that must sound. "I mean, yes, I want them to get what they deserve because they deserve only good things, but I wouldn't want them to be unhappy"
"All right" Santana said. "It's a deal. They'll get what they deserve, and they'll be happy with it"
For the first time in a long while, Mercedes gave a genuine smile. "You're very kindhearted, aren't you?"
Santana looked away. No one had ever called her kind before. She turned back to Mercedes. "I have a favor to ask of you. I have some friends whose son is visiting Lima. Perhaps, you've heard of my friend, La Reine, the famous actress"
"Yes, certainly I have, though I haven't seen her plays"
"Divine, utterly divine. Anyway, her son is visiting Lima, and I'd like to ask him to dinner tonight, if that's all right with you"
"Of course, you may invite him"
"But I was wondering, if perhaps you would ask him. I think he may be a little shy"
"I would be glad to ask him. Where's he staying?"
"At the Lima House. Just ask for Sam Evans. He – Mercedes! Are you all right?" Santana hurried to the other side of the table and helped Mercedes to a chair. "Did I say something wrong? Would you rather not have anyone here for dinner?"
"It's not that. It's … it's that Mr. Evans and I …"
"Oh, so, you know each other, do you? That's wonderful"
Santana helped Mercedes to stand, then took her heavy wool shawl and her wool felt hat from a peg by the door. She jammed the hat on Mercedes' head, wrapped the shawl about her, and shoved her toward the door.
"Go and ask him to dinner. Irene is sleeping, so she's comfortable, and your father isn't here. Everyone is taken care of, so you're free to go"
"I can't ask him" Mercedes whispered.
"For me? For your dear old aunt?" Santana said pleadingly. Mercedes took a deep breath. Her heart was pounding.
"All right. For you" she stepped out the door into the cold, snowy air and started walking toward the hotel.
Santana shut the door and smiled. Easy, she thought. Almost too easy. Sam probably hadn't come to lunch because he hadn't received the note, but Santana knew Mercedes was a person who took her responsibilities seriously and would no doubt sit down and wait for Sam to give him the message personally.
She sat down at the table, started munching Mercedes' cookies, then snapped her fingers and the latest issue of Vogue appeared in her hands. This fairy godmother stuff is a cinch, she thought. She'd probably had Sam and Mercedes together by ten o'clock tonight. Maybe they'll name their first kid after me, she thought, smiling.
On the other side of the kitchen door, Irene tightened her mouth into a fine line. So that's it, she thought. Their aunt was a friend of Mr. Evans' mother. That's why Aunt Santana had so suddenly and unexpectedly come to Lima. It had nothing to do with choosing one of the Jones girls to inherit. Aunt Santana wanted her friend's son to marry Mercedes. And leave me behind, Irene thought. Mercedes got to marry a rich man and get out of this dreadful town while I have to stay behind. Tiptoeing, Irene made her way across the room and out the front door without making a sound.
"Mercedes!" she called once she was outside. Slowly, Mercedes turned to her sister.
"I thought you were taking a nap"
"I was, but I was afraid to leave you alone with her"
"With Aunt Santana?"
"Yes, with her. I tell you, Mercedes. My every instinct cries out to beware of her"
"But she seems so nice. I don't think -,"
"You didn't think there was anything wrong with that awful man who said he loved you, either"
Mercedes looked down at her hands.
"Where were you going?" Irene asked.
"To the – ah, Aunt Santana asked me …"
"She didn't ask you to see him, did she? Oh, Mercedes, she is cruel. This is unspeakable! How could she do something like this to her own flesh and blood?"
"I don't think she meant any harm. She merely wanted me to ask her friend's son to dinner"
"And you think that was mere coincidence? You think she just 'happened' to ask you to go to this man? You think she doesn't know every sordid detail of what's happened to you?"
"I didn't really think about it. She asked me to go, and -,"
"And you obeyed her. Oh, Mercedes. Why don't you ever stand up for yourself? Tell her you're not going to degrade yourself more than you already have. Tell her the truth about the man"
"The truth?"
"Yes, that he made free with you then went off and left you, and that he walked out, and more, with nearly every female in town, and that he's a liar, saying he wrote you letters while he was away. Oh, Mercedes, the man is a scoundrel. He's proven that repeatedly, but here you are, chasing after him like you the night of the Harvest Ball"
Mercedes wrung her hands. She knew Irene was saying these things because she worried about her, but the words made Mercedes felt really awful.
"All right, Mercedes, I wasn't going to tell you" Irene said with a sigh. "But your Mr. Evans has been taking Brittany out for the last two days" She put her hand on Mercedes' arm. "I am so sorry about him. I know you believed you cared for him, but you'll get over him. He's not worth shedding one tear over. Now that you've lost some weight, you're quite presentable – looking, so we'll be able to find you a husband. Rick Nelson needs a wife and he's a dependable man"
Rick Nelson was at least fifteen years older than Mercedes. He ran a lively stable at the edge of town with his two big half-grown sons – who everyone said were so dumb that the horses were teaching the boys to read and write. It was debated around town whether any of the Nelsons had ever had a bath.
"Well, don't turn up your nose" Irene snapped. "Everyone says that Rick Nelson has a fortune hidden somewhere. But if you don't like him, we'll find you someone else. Maybe we can look in Dayton. No one there knows of your reputation. Maybe -,"
"I won't ask him." Mercedes said, putting her hands over her ears. "I won't ask Mr. Evans to dinner. Please stop"
"All right" Irene said tightly. "I don't know why I bother. Sometimes, you act as though I am the villain" she slipped her arm through Mercedes. "Let's go to the bakery and get something to eat"
At the moment, Mercedes felt hungry enough to eat the bakery itself – boardwalk, shingles, sign and all.
Santana was again puzzled when, at dinner, Sam Evans didn't show up. She sat through the long, boring meal eating Mercedes' delicious food and listening to Irene chatter. She watched Dwayne Jones smiled at his younger daughter and now and then frowned at Mercedes. As far as Santana could see, losing weight had had no effect on Mercedes' life. Dwayne and Irene had always treated her as someone to do their dirty work, and they didn't think that her losing weight was any reason to change their attitude. Nor had the weight lost changed Mercedes. Even though she was now a knockout, she still had very little self-confidence. Mercedes wasn't encouraging the young men who came to call on her; she wasn't now demanding that her family treated her with respect. She was the same Mercedes she had always been.
Santana winced when she thought of this Mercedes. Poor substitute for fairy godmother I am, Santana thought. Maybe I should have done the "Bibbidi bobbidi boo" bit and changed a few pumpkins into coaches. Mercedes got to go to the ball with her handsome prince, but only because someone else came up with a dress. Everything her fairy godmother had done to her had backfired. After dinner, Santana excused herself to her room. There she took a clear glass dome from the top of a lamp and put it on the table.
"It's not a great crystal ball, but it's the best I can do" she said aloud. "Now, let's see what's going on"
She moved her hands over the globe, just as she'd seen countless gypsies did in the movies, and to her delight, images began to appear. It took a moment for the images to appear clearly, but then she saw Irene talking to the big kid, Duke. She saw the note that she had sent to Sam's mailbox, saw Irene took it, read it and crumpled it. She saw Irene talking to Mercedes when Mercedes was on her way to visit Sam at the hotel.
Santana leaned back in her chair, and at first her only thought was admiration. Irene was cleverer by far than Santana had believed. Somehow, she'd known Santana was to out Mercedes, and she'd managed to anticipate what Santana was going to do and then thwart her.
"If this keeps up, in two more days Mercedes will be even worse off"
Santana looked at the fading images in the globe. She'd very much liked to beat Irene without using magic, she thought. It would be a challenge to outfox this young woman, but the truth was she didn't have time. She had only three days in which to perform miracles for Mercedes, and now, one of those days was gone.
So, Santana thought, the first day was a draw. Let's see what can be done in the remaining two. First, she needed a plan. She tried wiggling her nose liked Samantha on 'Bewitched', but that didn't work. So, she wiggled her ears instead. A chalkboard appeared before her, and a piece of chalk, hovering nearby, was ready to write. Santana leaned back in her chair. Number one, she thought, and the chalk began to write. Mercedes believes Sam left her, and that he fooled around with other women. Number two, she doesn't believe Sam sent her any letters. And number three, Sam's feeling are hurt because he doesn't think Mercedes returns his love.
"And heaven help any woman who hurts a man's feeling. He'll go off and brood for a few hundred years or so. All right, now, what else do we have?" She thought the names Irene and Dwayne, so the chalk wrote them in columns. Under them it wrote 'can't disturb their comfort'.
"Ah, yes, but they can get what they deserve if they're happy with it. Dwayne wants a clean house, good food, and to spend as little money as possible" The chalk wrote under Dwayne's name.
"Irene wants someone to take care of her, to give her everything before she knows she wants it"
When this was written, Santana looked at the board. The obvious thing would be to show Mercedes how little her father and sister cared for her, but Santana remembered the pain of hearing her own father saying he thought Santana was useless.
"She never thinks of anything except clothes and how much money someone can give her" Santana had overheard her father saying. No, she didn't want to give that kind of hurt to anyone, and especially not to Mercedes.
"So, what can I do?" Santana whispered. She leaned back in her chair, waved her wand and she began to look for the letters Sam had sent. It was so fascinating looking into people's houses – seeing some very odd things going on, that she almost forgot her purpose. But she at last found the letters, tucked away in a drawer in some poor woman's house. It was obvious Irene had paid her to answer Sam's letters. Santana waved her wand again, and then, smiling at her own cleverness, she gave the letters to a crazy old woman and imbedded in her memory a complicated story of how she'd come by them. The old woman lived with her brother and his young daughter, and it looked as though the child could benefit from a fairy godmother of her own.
"You bring the letters to Mercedes, and if I know her, she'll take care of you" Santana said. She smiled and looked at the other problems outlined. Now all she had to do was get Sam and Mercedes together someplace romantic. It was nearly dawn when Santana at last had her plan mapped out. One thing good about being dead, she thought was that she didn't need any sleep. She stood and stretched, wiggled her ears, and the chalkboard disappeared. Her plan was made and set into action now. She just had to stand back and see what happened.