Shelly's Second Chance (The Wish Granters, Book One) by L B Gschwandtner Read Free Book Online Page A

like
this?” Alanna asked.
    Morgan stopped at a red light.
“Now you begin to see the bigger picture. When a person’s life is in turmoil,
they wish for some way to fix it. You two can grant the wish. But does that
solve their problem?” He shrugged and turned around to look at them.
    “Not so far,” Joe said. “When
I was at that gas station, I had this very strong urge to tell her who we are
and why we showed up in her life. Is that something we shouldn’t do?”
    “Not at all,” said Morgan. “In
fact, that is your next step. Explain to her who you are and what you’ve been
sent to do. Here’s your stop.”
    He let them out on a
nondescript corner across from an apartment building and prepared to drive
away. Alanna stood hopelessly on the corner, staring across the street. Is this
where Shelly lived? Joe, because, he was Joe and not a houseplant, still had what
he considered a major question that he wanted answered. So, before Morgan
disappeared again, in his most strident courtroom objection voice he blurted
out, “Hey what about us? What’s in all this for us?”

Chapter Ten
     
     
    The clock on her wall said
precisely five twenty-five when Shelly stumbled into her apartment and turned
on the TV. The answering machine light was pulsing steadily and she slapped it
before going into the kitchen to pour herself a nice big glass of wine. Ben’s
voice poured out of the machine. Six calls, each more insistent than the last. She
needed to phone him. He shouldn’t have stormed off like this. They were in this
together. There were ways to work it out. He’d go with her to GA. He should
have been going with her from the start. It was his fault too, in a way. He
never should have given her the money.
    I’m grateful that he called,
she thought, as she plopped down on the couch with her wine. But she could see
where all this was headed. He was going to keep her on a short leash from now
on, even shorter than before. Treat her like a child and not a wife. Take away
her credit cards, put her on some kind of cash allowance. She was a math whiz,
for God’s sake. She handled millions of dollars at her job. She wasn’t going to
be one of those pitiful women paying for their clothes and shoes with cash,
saying “My husband would die if he knew,” and looking guilty just for living.
    No, it was good that Ben was
back, but Ben was going to have to start treating her like more of an equal.
And her journey to equality would proceed in precisely—she glanced at the
clock—two minutes.
    Shelly scanned the stacks of
lottery tickets, filed by number, all around her and drained the glass of wine.
Here goes.
    A commercial for trucks
ended. Then one about regularity. Shelly tapped her fingertips against the wine
glass.
    And then . . .
    And then the end of
everything. Because the Lotto show opened not with the usual spinning of the numbers,
the smiling Vanna White look-alike who Shelly considered one of her best
friends. It opened with a shower of confetti and a flashing notice of WINNER
WINNER WINNER. And a shot of a grinning middle-aged black guy in a suit handing
an oversized check to some fat white woman who was weeping tears of joy and
astonishment.
    Thirty million dollars to
some nameless woman wearing a tent dress.
    Some woman who wasn’t Shelly.
    The phone rang. The machine
took it. Ben’s voice again. Was she there? Please answer, he said. We need to
talk about this. Please pick up.
    Shelly stood up, scooped up
the stacks of tickets, walked numbly to her sliding glass door. Stepped out on
the balcony. Below her there were people walking their dogs, chasing their
kids, living their lives. Her gaze fell on a young couple, a man and woman
sitting on a bench. They were looking up at her. All these happy people, she
thought. Why can’t I be one of them?
    Come on, Shelly, Ben’s voice
continued to plead. We can go to GA tonight. I’ll drive you.
    Oh yeah, that’s all she
needed, for Ben and Marcus to meet. If the two