Author's note: This is not the last chapter, seems inspiration has hit, thus there is one last after this. And then, the end, I promise.

My Darling Love

Chapter 77 – Immortal Beloved

"It never came about. There we have no free will.
At the one place of experience where we are most at mercy, and where the decision will alter us to the end of our days, our destination is fixed.
We are elected into love."

- Christopher Fry

Mary awoke in the morning and went on to greet another day without George, just like he asked. Harry asked her for the same, so now she went on for the both of them.

Christmas was upon them once again. Mary, Wendy and Georgeanne all dressed on Christmas Eve and readied themselves for dinner at John's house to welcome in the season. Mary wore her finest dress of the softest pink, a tad out of date for the times, but timeless for a lady such as herself. She accentuated the gown with a necklace Harold had given her many years ago, her favorite. She also wore her hair clip, the gift from her father and the diamond broche of her grandmother's. Ever present on her ring finger was her George's wedding band, and Harry's engagement ring as well.

"My, my, my, don't you look like a queen going to the ball?" Wendy, busy checking her own reflection in her bedroom, teased as her mother entered, dressed and ready to leave. Wendy turned around to gaze at Mary and bowed respectfully to her mother, the Queen, "You look lovely, your Majesty..."

"Oh yes, as do you, your highness…" Mary jested, curtseying gracefully in response to her daughter's mockery.

"I don't remember hearing you knock, Mother," Wendy retorted, with Mary smiling as mother and daughter met in an embrace, "I love you, Mother."

Mary fixed a few strands of hair off Wendy's face; her daughter's glorious locks now turned shimmering silver. "I love you, too, Gwendolyn Angelina."

Wendy turned toward the door, shouting, "James is bringing around the car, Mother, make sure you grab your shawl, it's cold outside."

Mary Elizabeth Darling went into her own bedroom, straight to the wardrobe and took out the shawl that perfectly matched her dress. She stood once again at her mirror and gazed at her face, once exquisite now covered by wrinkles, her beautiful perfection erased. She moved gingerly to her vanity table and rested there, suddenly out of breath, holding her head in her hands. The air she needed returned to her suddenly, although she obviously had not caught sight of her own reflection, for Mary only wiped her nose on her handkerchief and stood up.

Had she only glanced in the mirror, she would have seen a perfectly mocking mouth on her flawlessly lovely face. It was the body and beauty of a woman eighteen years old, going off on her awfully big adventure of wife and mother, now returned in full glory as it once had been long ago. Instead of looking in the mirror, she looked towards the door of her room. The very distinct sound of pebbles hitting glass echoed throughout the upstairs. Hearing this, Mary rushed, rather annoyed at her family's impatience, to Wendy's room, the bedroom that had once been her own long ago.

Mary went to the window and looked out. She was about to shout down she was coming in a moment, "keep your bloomers on," Mary mumbled as she threw open the shades. But it was not the car packed and ready to go to John's home for the holiday she saw. There, in the moonlight, was her George, dark-haired and handsome, dressed the same as the day she first ran away to be with him forever.

"Mary Elizabeth Baker Darling, I love you and I want to spend my eternity in heaven with you. I'm sorry death had to part us for a short time, but if you like, I can take you now to a place where we will never have to be parted again. We, together, will never have to fret about -- well, Mary -- anything ever again. We will live in peace, happiness, and harmony, with sunshine and new days, new tomorrows and endless dreams and wishes that always come true. These are the rewards in heaven we have earned, dear Mary, and there is more, so much more, and I simply cannot wait another moment to share them with you, forever! Although, if you want to celebrate these joys alone in heaven, I will understand and leave after I take you there. But my heart will never able to beat again if I didn't at least ask you to reconsider..."

"GEORGE!" Mary shouted, "I'M COMING, GEORGE! WAIT! I LOVE YOU! I HAVE BEEN WAITING!" after throwing open the windows. "ME TOO!" George yelled back, but before he could say another word, Mary fled the sill.

She danced about the room overjoyed, and went to check her face in the mirror. The smile she wore as she heard her George's speech and her celebration faded, as she called to mind her elderly state, and George's youthful appearance returned. "Oh no, he'll never want to stay with me now, for I am old…" she thought, but Mary need not worry, nor frown, for her face and figure were just as perfect as his. As a matter of fact, as she finally gathered the courage to open her eyes before Wendy's bedroom mirror, she realized she was no longer wearing pink. Mary Elizabeth Baker Darling was dressed in an imperial gown of heavenly white, complete with a jeweled crown that decorated her lovely long brunette locks. Cinderella indeed, in the flesh, she literally sparkled as she twirled about.

"Your Majesty, Queen Mary, are you not forgetting something … or someone who is waiting?" God in heaven reminded, smiling just as happily as she. "Oh, how I do love a very happy ending..."

"GEORGE!" Mary yelped, "I DIDN"T FORGET YOU, GEORGE! I COULD NEVER FORGET YOU! I LOVE YOU! DON'T GO! PLEASE!"

Mary ran to the window and stared down at the street. George was gone … from the street, at least. He now stood at the bottom of the rose trellis, about to fly up to the window to retrieve her, Mary was certain. Only he didn't fly, he climbed.

"Don't come down, Mary!" he shouted with a bouquet of pink roses in hand, "I'm coming up!" He stuck the flowers in his teeth and valiantly scaled the trellis full of more pink roses in full blooms, which in reality were already gone for the winter.

"What is taking grandmother so long?" Georgeanne asked from the back seat, annoyed that Mary was taking the longest to get ready. Everyone else, with the exception of Wendy, was getting irritable, for without her great-grandmother, Susan was a difficult baby to appease. Suddenly and without reason, as they waited, she began to cry, and was now inconsolable, lacking the comfort she longed for from Mary, who still had not come.

"I'll go get her," Wendy replied as she got out of the car and headed into the house. She called up the stairs and got no reply, taking a moment to close her eyes and think deeply over the silence that stilled the house. Before she took to the stairs, she called out once more, "Your Majesty, your chariot awaits!" She still heard no reply so she quickly bounded the steps as fast a woman in her sixties could.

Wendy knew the rules, so she knocked at her mother's bedroom door and waited. She was not really concerned about her mother's condition; only thinking Mary was becoming a little deaf in her old age. She opened the door yelling her warning in joking manner, "I hope you are decent, Mother, for I don't want to see you in your bloomers."

Wendy found her mother, Mary Elizabeth Baker Darling-Darling, wrapped in her shawl lying on the floor next to her vanity as if she had fallen from the chair while resting there. Wendy moved to her quickly and rolled her over, pressing her ear to her mother's chest to hear her heart beat. The stillness that claimed the house had also claimed her heart. Wendy broke down into weeping for as she called out, "How will I go on without you, Mother!"

That is how Wendy's family found her a short time later.

Mary was laid to rest right beside George in the church cemetery. She left no will, only a very short and simple letter attached to George's. "Dearest children, please pray for me, your father, our family already called to rest, and most importantly, each other, still here on Earth. Keep us safely in your heart. If ever you want to see us, go there. If you ever want to speak with us, talk. We will listen in heaven for you, even if we are silent. All the love in my heart I shall bring with me, and that love and my family will reign with me in heaven forever. Your mother."

Of all of those Wendy lost in her lifetime; her mother's passing was the hardest to live through. Even with her devoted and loving husband beside her, her children and grandchildren, Wendy still suffered. She sat in her mother's room and stared at the portrait she had painted of George in the street with Mary in the window. It had been years since she had put paint to canvas, but with no other outlet, she hid herself, day in and day out, in the old nursery, and finally, after much consideration, reconstructed another similar scene from her imagination.

In Wendy's portrait, George and Mary stood together on the street where George had once stood alone, she in her mother's wedding dress, George in his suit. They were embracing, their lips pressed together in a kiss with Mary holding one arm down still clutching her bouquet of pink roses in bloom. The door to the Darling house was open, and in the doorway stood Grandpa Joe and his wife Elizabeth Baker, arm in arm, smiling adoringly toward the couple in the street. Aunt Millicent stood behind them, peeking over an immensely excited Uncle Harry's shoulder, with a curious expression as to what all the fuss was about. Replacing Mary in the window was Michael; standing with Penny and her daughter Margaret, also beaming with joy, smiling down to the happy couple that not even death could part.

This is the portrait that now hangs above the fireplace for all who visited to see. "One day, Wendy, they will hang it in a museum," James commented, appraising the work. After all these years, the dread pirate captain was still absent from him. And it made Wendy suffer all the more, for this was time when she needed his comfort and love the most. At night when she said her prayers, she would always add, just in case God was keeping her in the corner of His eye as well, "If I could just speak to Captain Hook once more, please. I need him now, Dearest Lord."

Wendy and James were soon alone in the Dunange home. Georgeanne and her husband moved out and onward to their own home. Soon Mr. and Mrs. Dunange reasoned they should sell to make way for bigger and better things, as the world around them changed. But for now, they would be content to savor their days and their elder years in the house that had brought them the most joys in their lives.

Weeks turned into months and months into years. James died after a long and very happy life, and left Wendy to herself. Old and alone, but loved just the same by her family that visited with her often.

There, by herself in her home that had once been her father's and grandfather's, she found within her the courage to collect James' things together. With his personal effects sorted and given amongst her children, she decided it was time to dismantle her mother's room, as she had left it untouched in time, and gather up her personal belongings as well. "I think I shall make this a sitting room until we sell the house," she informed her oldest daughter Jane, who agreed.

Jane came every day to see her mother without fail. Just like Mary before her, Wendy and Jane were now best friends. Wendy would gaze at Jane in awe, for in her daughter's adult life, she held the closet resemblance to her pirate captain. If there could be a true female version of Captain Hook, it would be without a doubt his only daughter, Jane. From her height, tall and commanding, to her hair and eyes, identical in hues, to her wise and knowledgeable mind, all the way to her kind and forgiving heart. Jane was James Hook on earth. Wendy always looked forward to her stopping by each day, and this day was no different. Jane arrived for her normal visit and helped her mother sort out all of Mary's things.

Strangely, there were certain things Wendy was afraid to find, for she knew the memories they would resurrect that had been lost in time. "My father's spectacles are missing. My mother always said he would be cross with her when they met in heaven for not burying them with him. I always said he would be more upset she took his wedding band and pocket watch," Wendy explained to her daughter with a smile.

"I can't find Grandpa Harry's engagement ring to Grandma Mary either. I hope it was not stolen," Jane commented searching through Mary's priceless treasures. "Or Grandpa George's wedding band for that matter. Did you not just say mother, she did not bury it with him? His pocket watch is not here either for that matter. Do you think you were robbed?"

Wendy shook her head. "I probably buried them with my mother, yes, now that I think of it, I'm sure I did," Wendy spoke up after searching through her mother's vanity table for the items. "In her letter she asked that I place in her coffin, my father's personal effects as well as Grandpa Harry's.Your Uncle John said I was foolish, but those were my mother's wishes..."With that matter cleared up, there was another.

In the last place she looked, her mother's drawer of dreams, she found the novel Wendy had written decades before. Printed across the front page in Mary's pen was, "Wendy, now that you have a new beginning, and almost an ending, you should finish it. I wrote some notes to guide you along. But please end it happily and with a kiss. My father once told me, people like to hear about kissing. Mother."

"You wrote this?" Jane asked looking over her mother's shoulder.

Wendy quickly clutched it to her chest. "Yes, but only my mother and I have read it. It isn't very good. I wanted to be a novelist in my younger days."

Jane asked if she could have the honor, but Wendy declined, "No, it gives all the secrets of my heart I do not wish to share."

"Will you at least share the name, Mother?" Jane asked, disappointed that her mother had secrets she was not privy to. Seeing that in her daughter's face, and remembering her own frustration regarding Mary's mysteries, Wendy glanced to the cover. Again in Mary's pen, she had titled it for her Wendy, 'This was the best I could come up with, but it is a simple title for such a magnificent tale, my dearest Gwendolyn. You may want to use another name, more fanciful…'

"It's called, The Pirate Princess, my mother named it for me."

"You know, Mother, I don't think you should sell this house. My family will move back in here with you so you are not alone. Yes, Mother, that is best. After all, this is our family's home. Too many good things have happened here to let it be torn down and forgotten …"

George Frederick Darling
Beloved Father & Loving Husband
If ever two were one, then surely we
If ever man were loved by wife, then thee.

Mary Elizabeth Darling
The Queen of Hearts
Adoring Wife, Devoted Mother

Wendy knelt before her parents' grave and rested her completed novel, titled and printed, in front of her mother's headstone. "Thank you for the name which fits my fairy tale quite well. This copy is for you, Mother and you too father. It's published now, and quite the best seller! 'What fanciful fiction!' John, my overly impressed brother, commented after reading it, Caroline said he couldn't put it down. 'Goodness, Wendy, to think my sister in her old age has finally achieved her dream of being the author of trashy romance novels. At least there is sword fighting to distract the reader from all the kissing! It's rather scandalous, dear sister, are you not afraid of what the neighbors will think?' That's how your son teased me before asking me to autograph his copy. If he only knew the truth of the story … if he only remembered … But that is neither here nor there now. This," Wendy spoke as she touched her fingertips over the lovely cover, illustrating a fair maiden being embraced from behind by a dreaded pirate captain, whom at the moment, in the picture, was adoringly kissing her neck. "This is my beloved immortality in print …"

Wendy stood and adjusted her dress, and as she turned to go, she softly made one last request to her own immortal, beloved Mother, "I know you are busy up there in heaven, but I need a favor, Mother. I do not think God really listens when I pray. If you would be so kind to ask Him for me -- using your lovely smile you wear so well -- if he could send Captain Hook down to me. Only for a few minutes, please. There are things I need to say to go on, that I could never say to James. Please, for me."

Mary was listening, as was God. Thus she turned to Him and smiled just like Wendy asked and He, almighty and merciful smiled back the same and replied, "Not yet, Your Majesty, but soon."

Mary Elizabeth Darling had a daughter named Wendy and Wendy had a daughter named Jane, and Jane had a daughter named Harriet, to honor the very deserving Harold Darling. Harriet grew up, fell madly in love and without any trouble or heartache, married a fine young man by the name of Sir Edgar Fisher. It was love at first sight, and Edgar and Harriet, hopefully devoted to one another, had the largest, grandest and most exquisite wedding that most in London (or anywhere else in the world) had ever seen. And that was just the beginning of their fairy tale. Now, Edgar was great-grandson, and only remaining heir of Lord Biggins Fisher, Esquire, to be exact. Thus, one can imagine the hysterics in heaven as Harriet had a daughter she insisted on naming Mary Elizabeth. And so there was on Earth, finally, a Mary Elizabeth Fisher, and she was just as lovely as her great-great grandmother before her.

The warm sun beat down on a grassy countryside, a towering medieval castle stood far off in the distance with a moat of hot molten lava that ran up from beneath the ground encompassing it. Peter Pan flew overhead with a little girl, landing on a cloud as near as safely possible, but still miles away. "That is the castle of the dread queen. There is not another soul in the entire universe that is more feared. She knows dark and horrible magic and is not afraid to use it. I have been at war with her for a very long time, and someday I will defeat her. For I am boy and boys are stronger than girls!" he commanded, raising his sword, scaring the poor girl.

To prove his point correct, that the dreaded queen was just as evil, nasty and merciless as he described, Peter Pan showed the little girl countless scars, abrasions, scald marks and injuries he had sustained at her hand since the moment their game of 'war' had begun. "GOODNESS!" the little girl gasped, "Do they hurt?" She asked gently touching the marks with her delicate hands. Peter Pan gave the little girl his sincerest look of humbled sorrow mixed with odd trepidation, showing not only the little girl, but God Himself who looked down from the heavens, that this was the only soul the boy who refused to grow up was ever truly afraid of. Therefore, he nodded his head and replied, "They hurt worse now, than when she gave them to me…."

"Is she ugly?" the little girl asked, "I mean a person that can do this to a little boy must be very ugly," she further reasoned.

"Yes, very ugly, hideous. One look at her and you die instantly!" he swiftly answered.

Peter took flight again and landed with the child in the forest just outside the castle. "Why are we here? Why can't we just play like you promised?" the small, terrified child asked.

"Because this is her kingdom and the rule is all new children who wish to live within it must be shown to her, or else…" Peter declared, standing proudly with his arms crossed. Peter yanked the little girl up onto a rock they stood near and shouted, "HERE QUEEN MARTINE! I HAVE BROUGHT YOUR ANOTHER LITTLE GIRL, SINCE YOU SEEM TO BE SO FOND OF THEM! I DARE YOU TO CATCH US!"

She could not be seen from where she stood, atop the highest lookout point on the highest tower of the castle, but she was there. A tall slender woman, dressed in head to toe black and red velvet, attire fit for royalty. Like something from the fairy tale Snow White, she was the she was the very image of the evil Queen who tempted Snow White into eating the poison apple, complete with crown. She stared down at the little girl, horrified out her mind at the thought of the wicked queen even knowing she was there, and leered at them straight faced without even the hint of a smile. "SMEE!" she screeched, causing him to come running up the stairs out of breath.

"Yes, your highness, shall I tell the others that Pan's back? They are ready upon your command." he replied bowing before her.

"No …" she paused before responding, sticking out her crimson lips with raised eyebrow, considering the matter. She turned around to face her second in command, her pale face and deep blue eyes that turned red when she was angry still frightened Smee to trembling in his boots, even though she was now mild in her disposition.

"No …" she repeated striding up to him, "I think I will handle this myself. Family, you know …" she whispered to him, fixing his glasses on his nose, with her long sharp fingernails, better described as claws, while grinning at him as she did, only to grimace again as he smiled back.

"Is the gingerbread house ready?" she asked, raising her brow impatiently awaiting his response while tapping her pointed shoes. Her voice held a somewhat flirtatious tone, as everything she said was usually soft spoken with a hint of the menacing motives behind it.

"Ye..y...yes your highness."

She looked him up and down once more raising her brow, "Good," she purred.

"But your highness … Do you think it is safe to go into the woods with Him watching?" Smee rambled pointing his finger upwards to the heavens, trying to keep an appropriate distance from her, yet still follow behind.

She whirled about, and nearly knocked the poor fellow over in his alarm, "You know, Smee, a wise man once said vengeance belongs to God." She leaned in, face to face, offering a wicked look, full of limitless hostilities, causing her voice to sneer in abhorrence of being questioned by a man she considered her court jester, "Well, that man, he didn't know what he was talking about." That was that, as it always was where she was concerned. She turned on her spiked heel and was gone.

In the forest, as the girl danced about picking wildflowers, she came upon a lovely woman with hair as dark as night, sitting on a cupcake near a house that looked good enough to eat. "Are you Snow White?" the child happily exclaimed running up to the young woman, eager to make friends. She was dressed like Snow White, so the small child thought it a good guess.

"I guess today I could be …" The woman smiled back, almost bashful in her response. She patted her knees and offered, "If I am Snow White, then what is your name, little girl?" The wicked queen's tone was the same to the child as it was to Smee, only she did not know to fear it as he did.

"My name is Mary Elizabeth Fisher, pleased to meet you," she answered with a smile, just as her mother taught her.

"Oh, what a lovely name. I knew a someone named Mary Elizabeth once, but her last name was certainly not Fisher …" she replied with a small chuckle, offering the girl a lollipop and a seat beside her.

"I am named for my great-great grandmother. My great grandmother said I should be very proud of my name, but I think it silly. And you know what? My Granny Wendy, that's my great grandmother, she laughs too sometimes when she says it. Although, I don't think my name is all that funny! I think it rather dull sometimes. If I could pick my own name I would pick something spectacular, like Alice. Alice is a fine name! Like Alice in Wonderland, and this Wonderland, so it would be perfect, don't you think?" Mary Elizabeth prattled happily, already enjoying the delicious taste of her treat.

Martine's smile turned momentarily to an angry scowl, and she all but sneered, "Child, this is far from Wonderland …" only to return her cheerfully pleasant disposition, for Mary Elizabeth's sake, "Alice is such a plain name, but Mary Elizabeth has a rather regal sound to it. I think a little girl as pretty as you, should have the name of royalty, don't you agree?"

Martine's grin, unceasing and now sinister, had become chilling to the small child, "Is your name really Snow White?" Mary Elizabeth cautiously asked, looking about apprehensively, hearing Peter Pan calling for her off in the distance.

"No. My name is Martine, and I am a queen and this my kingdom, and little girl … you are not welcome here."

Martine yanked Mary Elizabeth up by her hair and harshly dragged her kicking and screaming to the gingerbread house. "Peter, help me! The queen's captured me!"

Peter, hearing Mary Elizabeth's voice, took to the sky in search of her. He reached the place she was last seen as Martine shut the door to her gingerbread house washing her hands clean of what remained of the little girl. "What did you do to her?" Peter shouted, pulling out his sword in attempt to engage her in a fight.

"What do you think I did with her, Pan? I shoved her in the oven, of course! A word of warning to you, boy, I am not an angel as those who were sent before me. Captain Hook held no grudge against you for his imprisonment in this place, but I do. And I am something completely different and far worse than you or the devil could ever imagine. If I were you, I would take that sword and save us all the time left in this world," she now screamed, "AND DRIVE IT STRAIGHT THROUGH YOUR LACK OF HEART!" and then she turned, mocking as she completed her sentiment, "Oh, that's right, you have a heart now. All the better for me. God bless good old Uncle George!"

As Martine strode toward Peter with that red firing burning in her eyes, Peter jumped in the air and flew off. Martine watched him go and sighed loudly, "Sometimes, it's just too easy …"