My Darling Love

Chapter 72 – This Kiss

"Never a lip is curved in pain that can't be kissed into a smile again.

-Brete Hart

It was well after midnight and Mary could not fall asleep. She returned to the tavern (rather unladylike of her) and met Harry as he was locking up. He was surprised to see her, and it showed on his lady friend's face, who stood with her arm wrapped around his when she blurted, "Blimey, a little old to be walking the streets, this one is."

Mary did not respond, for there was nothing to say, so she turned back home, old, alone and unloved. Or so she thought. Harry dismissed the girl, who was more interested in his wallet than his heart, and followed behind Mary to ensure that she reached the front door safely. Once there, she turned and thanked him with an embrace.

"Is everything all right, Mary? I mean, with the children and the grandchildren?" Mary nodded her head, still holding tightly to him. Harry nudged her with his head and she gazed upon his hazel eyes. "I just miss being a wife, I suppose. I'm very lonely without George."

Always it was George in her heart, and Harry knew it, but on this night it was to be different than his usual consolation of reassuring words. Harry knew what Mary needed and he wanted to give it. In truth, he had wanted to give it for quite a long time, but knew Mary would never have him in her bed, let alone her heart. There was no room for another with George residing within; therefore Harry only pulled from the embrace, "I know Mary." She released him, and as he turned to leave, Mary asked, "Harry would like to come in and have some tea? I'm not tired enough to sleep, and I would really enjoy the company."

Where God closes a door, He opens a window. If the castle was Mary, and George had closed the door to her heart, the window was left open when he left for heaven, giving Harry an entrance inside. "Yes, Mary, I would enjoy a good cup of tea."

"I'm sorry to keep you from your lady friend. It was very rude of me…" Mary could not get out another word, for Harry hushed her with, "She wasn't a friend, Mary, no need for you to worry over her lost company."

Mary, using her own free will, opened the door to her home and her heart. So Harry entered and, that night, tea it was. It was lunch the next day and dinner the day after that. It went on from there and through the summer and autumn -- every day that passed, Harry and Mary spent together. Harry had every intention of selling the tavern to his business partner, and as Christmas approached, he readied to sign the deal and be done with being a pub owner.

Wendy and James smiled to each other in silent victory as Harry and Mary did what folks their age do. Aside from long strolls in the park and attending parties together, they also delved into the other's interests. Harry taught Mary card games, and Mary educated Harry in the fine art of cleaning. She taught him how to play chess, and he educated her in the proper ways to balance her personal ledgers. They talked, and talked and talked, never at a loss for words with one another. There was never silence between them, for they shared secrets and stories of the past, not to mention, hopes for the future. And although they had spoken the sentiment of "I love you," many times before, soon -- but not too soon -- those words had grown into a different meaning for the both of them.

Harry was a different sort of man than George. He had just as much wealth, (if not more) than his baby brother saved away for rainy days, only he was unafraid to spend that wealth at times of cloudless skies. Thus, he took Mary out to restaurants every night of the week, and on many day trips and weekend excursions. Harry indulged her appetite for the theater and ballroom dancing, after they'd finished their dinner. He bought her jewels and showered her with gifts worthy of a queen. Harry was a proper gentleman; he opened doors and pulled out chairs for Mary, escorting her everywhere they went proudly on his arm. Invitations that came only addressed to Mary, now included Harry's name as well. The same for Harry, who raced from the pub to the Dunange residence the moment he received the first request for the presence of "Mr. Harold Darling and Mrs. Mary Darling" at a dinner party hosted by one of his old business associates. Thus, Harry became a constant presence in Mary's life, from morning 'til night. Consequently, wherever Harry was, Mary could be found beside him.

And so, Harry's attentions continued, as did his luxurious presents. First, it was a necklace for her birthday, followed by the matching earrings and bracelet. It wasn't long before her jewelry box was filled to capacity, leaving Mary repeating at least once a week, "Oh, Harry, it's lovely, you shouldn't have. I'll treasure it." But he wanted to, and he continued to, always explaining his generosity away with, "You needed it, Mary to match your outfit." Those gifts never bothered Wendy in the slightest, although, there was one ring Wendy found particularly interesting when her mother and uncle sat down to dinner on Christmas Eve.

A brilliant square-cut diamond, larger than any Wendy had ever seen, set upon a dazzling band of smaller diamonds sat beside Mary's wedding ring to George on her finger. Wendy said nothing, only pinching James under the table to draw his attention to it. He shrugged his shoulders and listened to Mary and Harry ramble on about what they had done together while they were away for a week in France visiting with one of Mary's oldest and dearest friends, Mrs. Bishop, the dressmaker. "Did you hear me Wendy?" Mary asked her daughter.

Wendy hadn't heard a word her mother said, and was startled to find the supper table silent awaiting her response, "What did you say mother, you had lunch with whom?"

"I said that I saw Vivian while in Paris and she insisted your uncle and I go to lunch with her husband and their family. The entire time we were together, she called me 'Aunt Mary'. Her husband and children think I truly am her Aunt, and apparently their Aunt as well. Now, I have never been called 'Aunt' by anyone before in my entire life and they just kept saying 'Aunt Mary, Aunt Mary' over and over again! I do believe every single sentence they spoke began and ended with 'Aunt Mary'! I just kept thinking they were speaking of Aunt Millicent, as if any moment she would plomp down at the table and order her own meal! It was all so very humorous!" Mary chuckled, thinking the story rather funny, as did James and Harry.

Wendy was not amused and she snapped, "Why did you have lunch with that whore?"

"Wendy!" Mary gasped, clutching her hand to her neck, as now it was James' turn to pinch his wife under the table. "Gwendolyn, how dare you use language like that at the dinner table?" James retorted, glaring at his wife. Wendy lowered her head, mumbling, "Sorry mother."

Mary was unimpressed by her daughter's apology and offered, "You know dearest Wendy, you of all people should be able to understand what it is like to be made to live in the shadows of a checkered past. Vivian is a lovely woman, a devoted wife and doting mother to her children. She sent her well wishes to your family and gifts she made for your children. No matter what happened long ago, she has changed for the better, and deserves the respect and honor she has worked relentlessly to earn."

This time Wendy's apology was genuine and from the heart. She raised her head and gazed at her mother, unblinking, "I am truly sorry mother. Please forgive my harsh tongue." She then looked about to her uncle and husband, "You have my sincerest apologies, gentlemen."

All was forgiven, but no matter what happened for the rest of the night, Wendy stared at that diamond ring, never taking her eyes from it.

Instead of hearing her mother gossip about womanly things as they did the washing up, Wendy called to mind relevant changes in Mary that she had witnessed, only now with the ring staring back. She recalled that it was her Uncle Harry who was greeted at the door with a kiss, morning, noon and night. It was Harry whom her mother sat next to at the dinner table and chatted with. It was Uncle Harry who read the paper in the parlor with Mary right beside him doing needlepoint, smiling back and forth as the evening wore on. As James' house quieted, and all were in bed, Mary and Harry still sat in the parlor together and on more than one occasion Wendy had stumbled to the kitchen for something in the middle of the night, finding them awake drinking tea, talking and, worse (to Wendy), holding hands.

Harry took her mother away and made her happy, Harry was taking her mother away period. But the worst thing that could happen now had, which Wendy realized all too late, was that Harry had replaced her father George in Mary's heart and on her lips.

At midnight mass, Wendy still watched and finally spoke up when Harry and Mary sat next to each other and held hands as the service began. He kissed her cheek, and she returned the gesture, this time on the lips, complete with a blush and small giggle after their eyes flirtatiously met under the candlelight. It was God's house, so Wendy did not shout, but the look on her face when she said it made her message to her mother very clear, "You are lovers, aren't you?"

Mary's eyes went wide and she turned to Harry whispering something in his ear. He also glanced to Wendy, who would have hissed back at him if possible, causing him to shift a little away from Mary and release her hand. James was watching as well, and sitting opposite Wendy, caught Mary's eye, mouthing silently, "Take back his hand, Madam."

Mary agreed with James, so she moved from Wendy's side to Harry's, and retook his hand, reaffixing the smile on his face. His raised her hand to his mouth and kissed it adding one more for good measure to her lips, stealing George's special kiss from the corner. Wendy stared, and watching the robbery intently. There it was one moment, gone the next. The kiss her mother hid on the side of her mocking mouth, the one elusive kiss that had been there as long as Wendy could remember. A thief had just stolen the one kiss Wendy Darling could never capture!

Wendy was holding one of her sons, still a baby, while James held Jane. Mary was holding their other son, and Wendy, in her anger, snatched her baby out of its grandmother's arms. James would not tolerate that behavior either. He frowned at his wife, who had just made her mother's eyes well up with tears, "Give your mother her grandson this very moment. The argument you wish to engage in is not your battle to be fought and you will not fight any war in God's house for I will not allow it."

Wendy handed her mother the olive branch, her son, only for God and no other. The moment mass was over and they were headed for home, Wendy took back her peace offering and stalked off towards the motorcar without a word. James, Wendy and their children rode in their car home; Harry took Mary in his own. "I should have taken my mother home, but no, instead I let her go with my uncle. He is probably raping her right now, that villain! She is a married woman!" Wendy fumed as she paced the front foyer awaiting her mother's arrival.

James was astonished by her outburst, asking, "Whom is she married to, Gwendolyn?"

That infuriated Wendy all the more, "MY FATHER!"

"Gwendolyn, your father died. They were only married until death parted them. And your Uncle Harry is far from a villain," James replied, but Wendy was not listening, she was walking out to her uncle's car to bang on it in her rage.

James was quick; and caught his wife before she embarrassed herself further. He pulled her back up the front steps, inside the house and then carried her kicking and screaming to their room where he dropped her on the bed.

Shaking his finger in her face he repeated something unknown to Wendy. "Your father wanted your mother to go on. He did not want her to suffer for the rest of her life being alone. He suggested himself in a letter to your mother that she find another man to marry and spend the many years she has left on this earth with. That is what she is doing and you cannot ask for a better man for her than your Uncle. He was always loyal and kind to this family, and has played out his part to perfection in everything that has transpired to keep your family together in more ways than you can imagine. He has always done everything that has ever been asked of him, and he has done it without question. Had he not interceded for your father, HE, George Darling would have died alone and unloved. Harry is a good man, and he is good to your mother and good to us as well. Have you not noticed that our Jane calls him Grandpa?"

James lowered his finger and rested his hand on his hip shaking his head. Raising it to look at Wendy, he saw she was not convinced, "What has he done?" she seethed. "He is a drunk and the black sheep of the family, James! He has never married and has no children. The only friends he has are drunks and gamblers. The only company he keeps is with whores. He has to pay them to love him. No one thinks enough of him to even love him, James! What does that tell you?"

James looked heavenward, taking a quick breath, trying to contain his anger. Feeling it best to end their argument quickly, he blasted, "Your mother loves him!"

"SHE DOES NOT LOVE HIM! She only spends time with him because he buys her fancy things and takes her out to dinner! He spoils her! He pays for her affections, James! He made my mother a whore without her even knowing it!" Wendy screamed back, facing him.

The temptation was one even Captain Hook could not resist. James grabbed his wife by her shoulders and shook her, hoping to shake some sense into her. He threw her back on the bed and quite frankly replied, "Your mother loves him. She always loved him, only now it is something different. She spends time with him because she loves him. If he were a penniless pauper, a black sheep of the family, Gwendolyn, in your father's absence, she would still love him! And if you even hint again that your mother is a whore, I will--"

"What, James? You'll hit me!" Wendy shouted, never expecting to hear the quick response he gave, "Yes. I will hit you, for you would be deserving of a slap in the face for calling your mother anything less the proper lady she is!"

He strode back and forth quickly, and then stopped as he was reminded of another fact long forgotten, "You are wrong about your Uncle Harry in more ways than you can imagine. He was married once and had a child."

"Oh really," Wendy sneered as she fixed her dress that was disheveled by his assault.

"Yes really," James sneered back, stalking to the front window. He looked down to make sure his mother-in-law was still safely sitting inside Harry's automobile and out of ear shot when he turned round and shouted, "He married Margaret Davis, your Aunt Millicent's daughter."

"He most certainly did not," Wendy retorted.

"Yes he did. He married her in France after taking her to retrieve her daughter Martine. He signed his name in place of your father's on Martine's birth certificate to intercept the scandal your Grandpa Joe caused, naming your father as her sire. He returned her home with her daughter, allowed her to divorce him and still continued to pay support to her and her daughter even though the entire event was a complete and utter fraud to save your father and his reputation. He lived through it all alone. In truth, it is my understanding, that it was quite a joke about the pub that Harry could not even keep a lover that was known about the town as an 'easy lay, who was really good in the sack for being so young and eager to let any man have at her.' "

For reasons unknown to James, Wendy jumped up from the bed and began hitting him on the head and face. He defended himself best he could without hitting back, and once he broke her onslaught, she shrieked, "You are very cruel!"

James was dumbstruck, and stepped back from his wife. Wendy was hysterical with tears. Her husband raised his hands, looking at her in bewilderment. Wendy composed herself enough to explain, "They weren't talking about Margaret, they talking about me!"

"Were you ever married to your Uncle Harry, Gwendolyn?" James asked stupefied, as Wendy wiped her face and shook her head, "No, but I…" She sat on the bed and he sat beside her, causing her mouth to snap shut.

"They were not talking about you. They were talking about Margaret." He shook his own head and wrapped a loving arm of comfort around his wife.

"No they weren't…" Wendy offered hopelessly.

"Were you there when they mocked him?" James asked.

Wendy responded, "Were you?"

"No, not in person, but your mother told me the story as did your Uncle Harry. You see, Gwendolyn, Margaret could not obtain a divorce on her own, and once she and Harry were wed, she truly was his. He could have kept her and her daughter as his wife and child. Ah, but he knew she did not love him. He told Margaret they could stay married if she wanted, and he would be a good husband to her and love Martine as if she were his own. But Margaret graciously declined. He then divorced her, and all his drunk gambling friends, as you call them, made fun of him and ridiculed him for not being able to keep a prostitute as his bride."

James watched his wife stare down at the rug in the room. "I was under the assumption Margaret told you all of this. Why would you think for even a moment they were speaking of you, Gwendolyn?"

Margaret had told her, John as well, and of course Wendy knew the reason she thought James spoke of her, not her former sister-in-law, but she did not wish to share it, not with her husband. "I don't know, I guess my reputation and all. I'm sure some people thought if Uncle Harry liked loose girls and I was once a loose girl, that maybe I let him take me to bed."

The truth of her statement was written all over her face. James saw it, but if it there were any certainty that she had lain with Harry, by his persuasion or hers, hidden behind her supposition, he did not want to know. But then again, possibly he did. "Did your Uncle Harry proposition you for your favors, Gwendolyn, ever?"

"No James, never." Wendy gave the honest answer to that one specific question.

Wendy rested her head into James' embrace and he went on with what she really wanted to know about. "Since you are so concerned that he and your mother are lovers, I will tell you he has not had the honor since their courtship began. He assured me of her virtue, if you will, himself. And I will tell you another thing, Gwendolyn, he is a far better man than I. I would have never given your mother the courtesy of her own bed let alone hotel room when in France or anywhere else I took her to for that matter."

"She forgot my father…" Wendy softly replied as her heart was breaking.

"That is a not true, Gwendolyn, your mother would never forget your father." Without letting her speak for he held his hand over her mouth he continued, "and she did not replace him either. Your mother has always had a large and never ending heart that has loved ten times more than what most people can. Your father Gwendolyn, has the same. Your father is still in her heart, as are all the others she has cared about throughout her life. Harry is in her heart, Wendy, he always has been. Now he holds a larger piece, but fear not for he has taken nothing of your father's or anyone else, including George's kiss. Your father brought that to heaven with him, it is Harold's kiss she wears on her mocking mouth now."

James knelt before his wife and held her hands. "The greatest hardship of loving someone is releasing them, letting them go, even if that means they are going on without you. That proves your father possessed a huge heart. That proves he loved your mother more than himself or any other. Your father wanted your mother to go on, and so now your mother must, for him."

Wendy was not the least bit convinced, shaking her head, folding her arms all the while wearing a frown. "Why must she be with Uncle Harry? My father's own brother? No, he would never approve. She should be happy to have us as her family, she does not need my uncle or any other."

James knew the answer, but also knew it was useless to tell her that night, for she was not listening, only thinking of Harry's ring sitting happily with George's on Mary's finger. The Patron Saint of Neverland had one last task to complete before he could be relieved of his duties and granted his wings; therefore, he beseeched his wife for aid. "Please, Gwendolyn, talk with your mother." She had no idea what he was talking about, and since he said nothing more, Wendy went to bed.

Not one to dream, or so Wendy thought, she was very surprised to awake inside of one. She was not alone, Captain Hook, the dreaded pirate who helmed the ship the Jolly Roger, greeted her on deck, wearing his best, complete with hat and hook for a right hand. "James!" Wendy yelped, astounded to see him back in his former environment on this night.

Wendy was dressed in the fair maiden's wardrobe she once wore herself, and they happily danced around on deck for some time before getting down to business. As he twirled her about with Mr. Smee playing the violin, Captain Hook asked, "What was my greatest fear, fair maiden?" He dipped to her as the song ended, and another began.

"That you would die old, alone and unloved," she replied, as now a group of happy pirates employed other musical instruments to make the harmony more respectable, as it had been years since they were blessed with James and Gwendolyn's company.

"And why is it fearful to die when you are old, alone and unloved?" he called out to her as he spun her about into the arms of a young man she thought was her father.

Wendy looked upon his face and noticed the difference immediately. He did not wear spectacles and had hazel eyes. "Uncle Harry?" Wendy asked as she stepped back from him. A young man of twenty-five, Harold Darling stood in the Joseph Baker's bakery picking up his parent's order for the week.

Mary Elizabeth Baker, Mr. Baker's daughter strolled in, inquiring after her father who was "out making deliveries all morning," as the girl working the counter informed her. Mary was only a young girl of seventeen, and that afternoon in particular was the first that she had her parent's permission and Aunt Millicent's approval to accept the offer of a young man wishing to court. Harry tipped his hat to her, and Mary thought him marvelously handsome, although she was rather put off that he, so early in the afternoon, already reeked of liquor.

She was far less enthralled when he asked to walk her home and she strolled along quickly to her door, doing her best to act disinterested in his cheerfully flirtatious conversation the whole way. He asked if he could stop in and meet her parents, and she went inside to ask.

Aunt Millicent, who was watching from the window, gave an unexpected "Absolutely! He is a doctor from a well-respected and rather wealthy family. Send him in!"

Mary Elizabeth slowly returned to the stoop, biting her lip, and replied to her first suitor, Harold Darling, "She said you could come in."

"Alright." Harold took a few steps up the Baker's front steps. Harry offered a smile along with his arm. Mary took it and opened her front door.

Aunt Millicent was standing there and yanked Mary inside alone. "On second thought, Mary Elizabeth, absolutely not. That gentleman can not come in." Millicent leaned into Mary and whispered, "I hear he is a drunk, and he already has quite a reputation with the ladies, my dear. What would the neighbors think if I allowed him to court you. No man of wealth and circumstance will want to marry you, Mary Elizabeth, after you've been seen on the arm of Harold Darling! I thought you spoke of his brother, Charles, a far better match for you." She pushed Mary back out onto the stoop leaving a confused and disappointed expression on Mary's face.

Even though Mary acted disinterested, she was excited that a gentleman, such as he, was actually so obviously infatuated with her. Mary thought of him and his kinds words as they walked. 'Maybe it was just wine with lunch', Mary thought. He didn't seem drunk, rather, she found him very pleasant company, and was angry with herself for not being more talkative as they strolled. He'd offered his arm as he escorted her towards her home and she had declined. She had been rude, and in her mind, she told herself so. "My name is Harold, Harold Darling, but please call me Harry," he had told her and she remembered other girls from schools chatting about him, wishing, hoping, and praying he would stop by their homes to come and court. "Oh Harry is so very polite and pleasing, and good looking. I hear his kisses are adoring and lovely and practically perfect in everyway! His skills with the ladies are the stuff of legend, Mary Elizabeth!" Her best friend Penny had gossiped as they past near his office on the way to the park only the week before. Mary at the time had no idea what Penny could mean about his skills aside from kissing, but she blushed and giggled just the same.

Now he stood, Harold Darling, a charming young man, fresh in the world on her front stoop. Mary would surely be the envy of all her friends and every other single girl in London for that matter. He was very handsome, especially when he smiled and inquired, "Is everything alright?"

And at that moment, Mary realized, Millicent had said "NO!" And this "no" was more painful than any other her aunt had spoken before.

"My aunt says the parlor is not dusted, therefore we cannot receive company today," Mary managed.

Harry lowered his head, "She said I was not a proper gentleman to court you," Harry responded, and Mary nodded, head lowered as well, for what else could she do? "Well, it was very nice to meet you, Mary Elizabeth," he told her, taking her hand in his, and giving it a polite shake.

"Thank you for walking me home, Sir. I am sorry about my aunt. If you like, maybe you can stop over later when my mother is home alone without her sister-in-law for company. She is more agreeable about meeting my friends." Mary replied, giving Harry her best mocking grin to tempt him into returning.

Harry gently turned her hand as he still held it and brushed his lips upon it. Without another word, Harry dismissed himself home, and to his fate.

There it was, plain and simple, at least to a pirate captain who took his fair maiden back into his arms and danced her away to Neverland and his ship. Wendy was not convinced and she told him so, "So what? I always knew my mother was wicked in her younger days, I read that very story in her diary. That just proves she should not marry my Uncle!"

Captain Hook sighed. Persuading Gwendolyn to see both sides of the coin was always such a daunting task, and in this case, he was relieved he had returned prepared. He dipped Wendy and ravaged her neck and then dropped her hard on the deck. "SMEE!" he shouted stalking up to his first mate. "Did she agree to help us?" He raised his hook, all shiny and new, to Mr. Smee's nose and he in return handed his captain a small brown satchel. Captain Hook snatched it up and strolled over to his love, already on her feet.

"A gift from Queen Martine, we shall use together this very night. All hail the Queen!" Captain Hook shouted, and his men in unison bowed and removed their hats.

"Who is Queen Martine?" Wendy laughed, for her name and titled rhymed.

"She is my replacement!" Captain Hook said proudly, as he bowed to his beloved. "Now fairest Gwendolyn, I could just go about and show you anything you want to see, for I have all the magic I need in this little bag to bring you anywhere in time you want to go. But for the sake of not wasting any of that time, I am going to make this trip as simple and short as possible." He opened the bag and removed a handful of ashes.

"Fairy dust?" Wendy queried, causing all on board to fall about laughing.

"No, dearest Gwendolyn, this is much more powerful than fairy dust, this is … well … fairy ashes …" He sniffed them and purred, "Tinkerbell…and here I thought Pan had wasted all that was left of her…" He sprinkled it over the both of them and just like flying to Neverland out the bedroom window, they were on their way.