"Next year he did not come for her. She waited in a new frock because the old one simply would not meet, but he never came."
~J.M. Barrie
Peter fought the urge to reach out and hold the acorn between his fingers. The idea of doing so struck him as too personal now. He felt his face grow warm with the memory of that acorn button.
"I haven't worn this in ages," Wendy said, turning to face herself in the vanity mirror. "It used to be that I'd wear it all the time. I forget why I ever took it off."
Peter cleared his throat, unsure of what to say. "It looks lovely," he whispered.
Wendy grinned at him in the mirror. "Hardly the usual jewel for a girl," she teased. She touched it against her neck, and her eyes filled with a far-away look. "Perhaps I shouldn't wear it."
Seeing her reach to take it off twisted his gut in an unexpected way. "You…are you not a fan of acorns, anymore?" he asked.
She placed the necklace back on her vanity and lifted a shoulder, the offhand gesture striking him as false. "They're nice, I suppose," she said. "But they seem to mean different things to different people. The whole business of wearing acorns becomes far too messy as one grows up."
Peter frowned. He wasn't sure what she meant, and he dared not contradict her, for she had always been the cleverer of the two.
Wendy turned back to face Peter. "Shall we go? I have to be at work in half an hour. I thought you might walk with me this morning."
"Of course," Peter said, sneaking one more glance towards the necklace. He wondered briefly why she had decided to take it off in the first place, all those years ago.
As they strolled down the streets of London, Peter found himself looking up at the rooftops. Wendy caught him gazing above their heads.
"Do you miss it already?" she asked.
Peter looked down at her. "Miss what?"
"Flying," she said, looking toward the sky. "You've never really had to do without it before."
He thought for a moment. "I suppose I could still fly," he said. "I brought some dust with me, though not much. It's at the house."
Wendy's face seemed to fall a bit. "Are you saving it? To go back, I mean?"
Peter felt a stab of guilt at her question, and at the way she looked as she asked it. Like she was expecting him to leave at that very moment. He didn't want to tell her that flying back to Neverland had been his very plan just yesterday.
"I hadn't really decided," he said, edging his way around the lie.
Wendy nodded, and her attention was drawn to the ground again. For a few moments they walked in silence. Peter began to feel uncomfortable, thinking that he had done something wrong but not knowing quite what.
"There's something I've been meaning to ask you," she said eventually. "Are you…that is, will you go back? I just mean, are you planning to stay in London for a while—or is this a temporary trip for you?"
Though Peter was relieved that she had broken the silence, the question caused him to tense, and he wasn't sure how to answer. He was quiet, thinking about what to say, as though the answer were already buried somewhere deep in his mind.
"Peter, why did you come in the first place?" Wendy asked, growing impatient with his silence. "You could have gone anywhere. If you were just going to come for a visit, why did you come to me?"
"I thought you were happy to see me," Peter said, growing uncomfortable.
"I was—I am. But surely you had to think about what it would mean if you came to see me. What is this all to you? Just a chance to mend fences, and then be on your way again?"
"I—I just wanted to see you, I suppose," he said finally. "I didn't really think about it, I just was hurt, and I had to see you."
Wendy's lips tightened. After a moment, she shook her head. "Last night, when we were—I thought…. I don't know what I thought. And then this morning, with the necklace…."
Peter thought he had an idea of what she meant. She was talking about this strange tension that had grown between them, drawing them towards each other with greater strength than anything he had ever experienced. She seemed frustrated by it now, and he didn't know how to comfort her.
"Look," she said with a sigh. "You're almost healed now. I suppose I was just wondering if, when you no longer need a nursemaid, you'll decide that you crave adventure again. I've never known you to go more than twenty minutes without leaping into the air to chase after some new thrill."
"Is that what you want?" Peter asked quietly.
"What I want is to know ahead of time, if that's what you're planning to do," Wendy said. "I want to know what to expect, instead of acting like…like we have all this time together, when we don't."
They had arrived in front of the restaurant. Wendy stopped and faced Peter.
"I don't want to get caught up in all of this again, not when you're just going to leave again."
Peter felt anger flare in his chest. It was the kind of panicky irritation that he'd felt when Tink had made the boys shoot Wendy down from the sky back in Neverland. He resented the feeling that something so important was out of his control.
"Is that what this is about? You haven't forgiven me for leaving?" he asked.
"I certainly haven't forgotten about it," Wendy countered.
Just then, a bicycle buzzed past Peter. Luke stopped just after he had passed the pair of them, dismounting the bike and leaning it against the brick wall.
"Hullo there, Windy," he said cheerfully, walking toward the two.
Wendy closed her eyes for a moment, seeming to collect herself. When she opened them again, she smiled tensely at Luke.
Luke looked back and forth between Peter and Wendy, his smile slipping a bit. "Am I interrupting?"
"No," Wendy said. "No, Peter was just dropping me off. Shall we?" she asked, and walked away from the boys, into the building.
Peter watched her go, his anger cooling into bitterness. Luke ran a hand over the back of his neck, quiet as they watched Wendy walk away.
Just as Peter was about to walk away, contemplating the strange developments of the morning, Luke cleared his throat.
"Listen," Luke said. "I wanted to ask you something."
Peter stopped. "Go on."
"You and Wendy—you're not…."
Peter raised an eyebrow.
"Well, I am going to ask her out to dinner tonight. I just wanted to let you know, make sure I'm not stepping in the middle of something," Luke said. Peter took a moment to process that, and then felt the full force of his irritation slam into him again.
The thing was, it didn't sound like Luke was very worried about whether he would be getting in the middle of anything. The way he spoke, it sounded like he was staking some sort of claim over Wendy. Peter had half a mind to tell him to step off, that she was already spoken for.
But was she? After their conversation, Peter didn't know if Wendy wanted anything to do with him anymore.
Biting down on his back teeth, Peter told himself to resist the urge to strike Luke. But that resistance was about all he was capable of at the moment. He wished for the second time that they were in Neverland, where he could beat the cocky smile off the boy's face.
At Peter's silence, Luke grinned. "Thanks, mate," he said, clapping Peter on the shoulder. "Have a good one."
Luke followed Wendy into the restaurant, and Peter closed his eyes, his whole body tense. Today was not his day, and he had a sinking feeling it was only going to get worse from here.
Peter didn't return to the Darling home until much later that afternoon. He had spent most of the day roaming around London, thinking about what Wendy had said to him.
Did he want to go back to Neverland? Of course he did. He hadn't envisioned any other scenario than returning home. Even the thought of remaining in London for the rest of his life seemed absurd. After he'd made up his mind not to leave last night, he hadn't thought about how long he'd stay in London, or the fact that he would have to leave Wendy again eventually. The fact was that he'd have to return at some point. It was his home.
But he couldn't shake Wendy's words from his mind. Are you planning to stay in London for a while?
Live in London? With all of their funny hats and starched suits and rigid schedules—he couldn't imagine it.
I've never known you to go more than twenty minutes without leaping into the air to chase after some new thrill.
Could he give up flying? Could he give up life on the island, the power and excitement that he felt there?
I don't want to get caught up in all of this again, not when you're just going to leave again.
The thing was, when he pictured her, something about the idea of staying here, of talking to her every morning and watching her eyes light with excitement at the things he said, seemed…right. No, more than that. It seemed necessary. Permanent.
He wanted to get caught up in it.
He didn't know how many ways he had circled back to that conclusion throughout the course of the day. And every time, the only solution he could think of was bringing Wendy back to Neverland with him.
She'd said herself that being a grown up wasn't everything she'd pictured for herself. Perhaps, in her excitement to be a London adult, she had overlooked everything that he loved about his home. Perhaps if he brought her back there now, she'd have a different perspective.
But then there was Luke. Even if Peter asked her to come home with him, she might decide it was easier to stay in London and be with someone like Luke, who understood her world far better than Peter ever could. Someone who had never let her down in the past.
By the time he arrived at the Darlings' house, Peter was a strange knot of frustration, hope, regret, and uncertainty. In his hours of wandering, he still hadn't come up with a plan.
As he walked into the house, two matching mops of brown hair flew by him in a blur, nearly tripping him at the threshold. Peter looked after Binks and Duke as they ran into the kitchen, John taking up the rear as he walked down the stairs.
John frowned when he saw Peter.
"What happened to you?"
"What?" Peter asked.
"You look like you swallowed something foul," John said. Peter shook his head. He didn't even know how to begin explaining himself.
"What are the boys so excited about?" Peter asked.
"Father just arrived a few minutes ago. Mother promised them that as soon as he got home, they could start planning their birthday party."
"Birthday party?" Peter asked, surprised. "When is their birthday?"
"On Saturday," John said. "They're dying to go to the zoo."
John walked into the kitchen. Peter hung up his borrowed jacket and followed the boys.
Mr. Darling was sitting at the table, a deep V carved between his furrowed brows as he punched buttons on his calculator. He was mumbling fretfully, though Peter didn't think that anyone was really listening. Duke stood between Mrs. Darling and Binks, as Mrs. Darling bent over him with a washcloth wiping jam from his right cheek, while Binks slyly smeared more onto his left cheek. The boys seemed to be having a grand time of it, both giggling maniacally.
"I have three pounds seventeen here, plus four at the office. If I don't take tea tomorrow morning, say ten shillings, making four and three and ten, plus the two in your checkbook…." Mr. Darling studied the numbers with all the gravity and captivation of a man deciding whether he could afford his newborn baby.
"Quiet, boys," Mrs. Darling chastised the twins lightly.
"The question is, can we make it work on a hundred and twenty, if we use the discount…."
"Of course we can, dear," Mrs. Darling said. "That's very reasonable, really."
Mr. Darling was silent for a long moment. Even the twins grew quiet, seeming to sense that this was the moment upon which their party hinged. Binks puffed out his cheeks, holding his breath.
"Oh, alright. I suppose if we skimp a bit next week—"
But before he finished his sentence, the twins erupted in gleeful cries and clambered up to sit on Mr. Darling's lap.
"Can we really, father?" Binks asked. "Can we go to the zoo?"
"Can we see the elephants?"
"Can we pet the lambs?"
"Can we feed the lions?"
"I may just throw you in with the lions," Mr. Darling grumbled, though a smile threatened the corner of his mouth, and the boys laughed uproariously at the thought.
"Peter, dear, you're home," Mrs. Darling said. "Have you had a pleasant afternoon?"
Peter drew a breath to reply, but John interrupted.
"Can Luke come to the zoo, too?" he asked. Peter closed his mouth. He wasn't wild about the way that John seemed to view Luke as a hero, quite the way he used to view Peter.
"I don't see why not," Mrs. Darling said.
"He's buying his own ticket," Mr. Darling muttered.
"Peter, you've probably never seen the London Zoo before," Mrs. Darling said. "You're more than welcome to join us, as well."
Peter had heard of the zoo. It sounded like some sort of jungle, where all kinds of animals he'd only seen in pictures lived together.
"Thank you," he said, not knowing whether Wendy would approve of her mother inviting Peter to come along.
As if on cue, Wendy called out from the front of the house just then.
"I'm home!" she said to no one in particular. In another moment, she was in the entryway of the kitchen. She looked flushed. "What's everyone doing in here?"
"We're going to the zoo!" Duke cried, jumping down from Mr. Darling's lap and running toward Wendy. "Father is going to feed us to the lions!"
"Oh, no, darling," Wendy laughed. "Lions don't eat little boys. Not until they've rounded out a bit."
Duke's face fell, as though he were disappointed by the news. Wendy glanced up, and her eyes locked with Peter's. She looked like she was holding back something important. Peter felt the air go out of him. Perhaps it was their unusual connection that caused him to realize it, but in that moment, he knew she'd said yes to Luke.
