23.
Two Secrets for Christmas
It was the distinct feeling of the earth not rolling beneath her that woke Wendy. Disoriented for the moment...she tried to sit up, but found that the weight of the Captain's arm across her stomach was enough to sufficiently anchor her to the mattress.
Oh yes...I am home. She thought.
The thought did not bring her much cheer. Her imagination began to invent many different awkward scenarios that could possible occur. The most awkward was that her parent's might believe it to be polite of her to call on her old acquaintances. Perhaps even a dinner arranged specifically for the purpose of introducing her husband, and displaying her newly acquired assets. The mere idea sent chills of dread down her spine.
When she had thought once of visiting her relations...she had not thought to recall that she was indeed a grown woman in their eyes, and as such, would be encouraged to meet people's expectations. A task she had never been suited for. She could not imagine James as being suited for it either, which was the greatest reason that she preferred is company to those of all the bilious whey-faced youths of her past.
She crossed her arms defiantly as she imagined herself refusing to weaken to Aunt Millicent's recriminations on how her own behavior could sadly effect the reputation of her father...maybe even lower his esteem in the eyes of his colleagues and neighbors. And how would it reflect on her mother? Having a daughter who eloped with a merchant...a sea captain, and upon returning, did not even have the graciousness to remember the delicate manner in which she had been brought up?
In her mind, Wendy reminded Aunt Millicent that it was she, not her mother, who had given Wendy instructions, so the reflection of character would be returned to where it was most richly deserved. Not that she would have the courage to say that aloud..but it felt wickedly good to be able to say it in her mind.
The motion of her arms shook the bed, and something between a loud groan and a low growl emanated from beside her.
" What was that?" she asked, looking over at him archly.
He repeated it for her benefit. He was face down in the feather pillow, his hair wildly splayed in all directions. His left arm was lain across her...his right was thrown over his head, curving around the pillow so that it was puffed up plump and tight around his face. It was a wonder he didn't suffocate sleeping all smashed into the pillow like that...she thought.
" It's morning..." she sang out...knowing that would irritate him.
He grumbled something else that sounded like " be damned if I'm getting up" ...and just to annoy him she purposefully misinterpreted it.
" Mmm, good morning to you to." she slid closer against him trailing a hand over his arm, coming to rest on the tattoo.
He said something then that sounded rather like..."That's not what I said, or maybe I'm staying in bed."
" You are going to smother yourself in that pillow..." she said, leaning over, she lifted a handful of his hair away from his face, and he allowed one eye to peek out...just long enough to glare at her before he burrowed it further into the white linen.
" owith adder feent? '' he asked.
This one puzzled Wendy...
" I'm afraid I didn't understand that at all!" she said.
He raised his head just enough. " How is water pink?" he demanded.
" What on earth are you...oh!" she remembered her story, or riddle , from last night. She had said, that sometimes water was pink. " When the sunsets over it, water is pink."
" That is reflection. The water is not pink." he muttered.
" It seems hardly worth arguing over..." she stated.
" Had you not said pink...or red...I would have guessed the answer." he insisted.
" I know. And that would have spoiled the story, don't you think?"
He mumbled something unintelligible into the pillow, but tightened his arm around her as he felt her try to rise.
" And where are you going?" he asked.
" To dress for the day. It's Christmas morning, and I am certain there will be a delicious breakfast."
He made a sound like someone who has been shown a disgusting object. He never had more than just rum before noon.
Wendy felt the excitement of Christmas...even though she had already distributed her gifts the night before. As Hook had prophesied, they softened even Aunt Millicent...and even distracted the boys from their displays of indignation. Before evening's end, Michael was even beginning to believe that trading Wendy for the promise of further exotic and mysterious gifts was not such a despicable concept. After all, how many sisters did a fellow really need?
" Christmas? " growled Hook, raising his head from the pillow again. " That reminds me, I have a little present for you."
" A cook to go with my maid!" she exclaimed in a teasing fashion.
" Hardly. But it might please you."
" Am I very difficult to please...?" she nearly purred, walking her fingers up and down his arm.
" I find every aspect of your existence to be a difficulty."
His morning moods were fantastically dry and a touch on the sour side. If Wendy had thought of a word for those moods, it would have been something close to ' adorable '...which would have gotten her rolled right out of the bed, and onto the floor, if she had spoken it aloud.
With a small sigh that said she was respecting his lordships wishes and removing herself from his presence...she kissed him somewhere near the ear, where she had found him to be very ticklish...before trying to wriggle out from under him.
He yanked her back down.
" Do not try to be cheeky before the dinner hour." he said.
She tightened her lips and tilted her chin up...in a childish gesture...over-exaggerating her willingness to obey him. For a moment he was disoriented by the lighter blue star-bursts playing in her eyes, and the light red indentation of the pillow seem, just there on her brow. He had to mentally shake himself.
These new lapses into reverie were disturbing. He did not understand them, and they shook him to the core. He, the most solid man that had ever walked the earth, or sailed the seven seas. Always, he had known everything that he wanted, and had always assured himself that he only had what he had because that was all he needed...Wendy seemed to be challenging that. As if she had dropped, or had been dropped, into Neverland ten years ago, solely for the purpose of proving him wrong.
Should he ever forgive her for unwittingly disputing his own heart? He could not say...because somewhere in the depths of that same rusty heart,( which had been recently dusted and oiled, and set back to working) he suspected that she was only confirming a thought he had never admitted to anyone except himself.
That until he had first seen her...a real and proper look at her, when she was dancing with Peter...he had not realized just how lonely and monotonous his life had been. If he could choose now between more adventure, and her company...he would undoubtedly choose her company. That was why he had just packaged up his last scrap of familiar adventure, his nemesis, and delivered him to London. He didn't need him anymore. He had her company...
Which reminded him that she was still waiting for him to say something...
" Actually, it is more a matter of business than a present. " he sighed gravely.
Wendy's expression turned to one of perfect sobriety.
" Rarely a moment's peace for those of us who sail beneath the black flag..." he mused. " The men came last night bearing more than our trunks. They also brought some rather...troublesome news. It seems that our young Pan escaped them at the last moment and they were unable to recapture him."
Wendy bolted upright with enough force to displace him. " Escaped! " she cried.
" Apparently so."
She gaped at him a moment. He seemed perfectly calm.
" Aren't we going to do something? Why did you not mention this last night?"
" When last night? When we were so humbly trying to gain the approval of your stodgy aunt...or later when we were desecrating her pristine and virginal bedchamber? It is hardly a topic appropriate for either time, or place." he scoffed.
Wendy turned a delightful shade of red...and clambered ungracefully from the bed.
She faced him , with her hands on her hips, her hair in a wild array across her shoulders.
" You might have said something! But what are we to do? Shouldn't we at least try to find him?'
" I searched for him for many a year on that narrow island and never found his lair...to find him in this city would be impossible."
" No it wouldn't! I mean, we cannot have him free. What if he returns to Neverland? What if he attacks us again?" She was not happy at how swiftly her perfect scheme had crumbled.
" He cannot return to Neverland." Hook said, rising from the bed to begin dressing.
" Why not?"
" Because he is no longer innocent, and no longer happy. And he no longer has his fairy to lead him back and forth."
Wendy sighed. " This will ruin everything."
" Will it? " he asked, raising his ever-cynical brow at her lament.
" Yes...of course it will. " she looked at him in confusion...as if he should well know that this was so.
" I rather think it to be ideal." he said, shocking her further.
" I would have thought you to be furious!" she accused.
" Wendy!" he exclaimed in a tone of false shock. " You judge to harshly! You forget that at heart I am a forgiving man..." his voice dripped with sarcasm so heavily, that for a moment you could almost see it.
She narrowed her eyes at him, in suspicion.
" Yes...indeed, I can even be merciful." he fixed her with a look that said she ought to know this. "and above all, I have a heart..." he lay his hand over his bosom in a dramatic manner, his eyes meeting hers, effecting humble sincerity.
She crossed her arms over her chest and waited.
" And I have changed. Turned over the proverbial ' new-leaf ' as some might say. And in my new found magnanimousness, I have decided, for the time being, to spare Peter Pan's life."
He waved his arm out towards the window. " Yes, I, James Hook, thought to myself...that since the...boy...escaped, and is trapped here, in England..why not let him be? What harm can he do me now? "
Wendy's lips twitched the slightest bit, as she surveyed the theatrics before her.
" And, when the occasion calls for it, if I ever need escort my lady to her home in the future, I know that somewhere here in these murky streets, lives Pan. An adventure to be had, in a place where adventure is not usually allowed."
She let the room fall quiet, contemplating these words. what devilish trick had the Captain devised? Or was it a trick?
No, it was no trick. It was an illusion. Peter had escaped, and was now a prisoner only of London...where he could still make mischief, and perhaps never grow up. Because Peter was magical...and might be able to avoid such a fate, if he could believe in himself.
But...why wouldn't the Captain want him re-captured?
" You let him escape!" she said suddenly.
This made him flinch just the slightest, and he stuck his great nose up into the air.
" I had nothing to do with the event!" he stated, frowning dangerously.
Wendy stifled both a smile and the urge to taunt him. He had allowed Peter Pan to escape, because at the last moment he couldn't bear the thought of not having an enemy. Not just any enemy, but his own enemy! It was actually more from vanity than mercy that he acted...but it ended in the same results. Wendy was exceedingly amused, but sensed that any accusations of mercy would be unappreciated.
She knew, and he knew that she did. And she understood why he wouldn't admit to such a crime, just as she understood his reasoning behind the action.
" Of course not!" she amended. " It must have been very careless of the men to allow him to slip away from them...I suppose his hands were not tied quite tight enough?"
" That must have been the case." he allowed, glancing at her to see whether or not she was still smirking. She had wiped her face perfectly clean of any emotion, except for thoughtfulness.
" I wonder what will come of this? " she mused.
" Never wonder idly, when you have a perfectly good imagination." he said.
So...Peter was free. That sprite from her youth, that had both intrigued her and annoyed hr, was now loose upon London, to make merry, and cause mischief. Or would he grow wicked and spiteful in the smoggy air, ever seeking revenge on the person who wronged him?
She shivered a little to think of that. Perhaps there was enough youth left in Peter to make him forget his hatred. Certainly he forgot things easily enough when something new and more fun came to him.
" Perhaps in time he will simply forget everything." she said.
" Perhaps. But I will not. " the Captain said softly.
They were silent a moment as they mourned the possible loss of a passing era. But it was quick lived for at that time a delicious scent began to waft up from the kitchens...and Wendy felt her mouth water at the promise of breakfast. She smiled up at him.
"Will you not join me at breakfast?'' she inquired, even as she began to buckle on the leather harness. He pulled a face but did not remark on the inedible quality of early morning food.
A discreet knock at the door signaled that Jane was ready to attend to Wendy's dressing.
" A moment." Wendy called. Then she turned to Hook.
" There is a small token I would like to give to you. "she said, almost shyly.
Instantly he was intrigued. He loved the thought of presents and tokens of any sort, as he rarely ever received any that he did not take by force.
" It isn't much..." she said, biting her lip. " But it is a gift. In a manner. Or rather a secret i have been wanting to reveal to you for awhile...and have never known precisely when it would be appropriate..."
He leaned toward her lightly. " There is such a thing as too much propriety...my beauty. " he said.
She drew in a deep breath then and looked him in the eye, deep into the part of him she understood the best.
There was nothing for it. She had to say it.
" I...I love you!"
She said this firmly, and before he could speak...she raised up onto her toes, and sealed this affirmation with a kiss...not of passion, but of promise.
It was the first time that Wendy had spoken those words...and at the utterance of them, they seemed so completely right, that she couldn't believe she had not spoken them before!
Now that they were said, there was not a doubt in her heart, or her mind...that they were the absolute perfect words to say. Warm and comfortable right down to the exclamation point, they were, and she wanted to say them over and over.
Hook reeled a moment, his breath knocked completely from his soul. It was the truth that he had seen often enough in her eyes, and tasted in her kisses...but when it was spoken, it was as if he had been turned inside out.
She loved him!
Wendy...his Wendy, ( and no one else's Wendy,) loved him! Him, James Hook! He had been feared. He had been hated. He had suffered other peoples most negative emotions...but never in the life he could remember...had he ever been loved.
" What?" he asked, in a choking voice, afraid for just a second, that he had misunderstood.
" I said...James Hook, that I love you!" she exclaimed.
He wanted to jump up and shout, or maybe sing...jump on the bed, raise the window and inform the world, that Wendy Darling loved him...
But at the brink of madness he stopped himself from humiliating both of them, and, regaining his officious composure, he tipped her chin up and smirked down at her, determined not to let her see just how pleased he was.
" Of course you do, you silly girl!" he said, " After all...why shouldn't you!"
But Wendy wasn't fooled in the least.
Then a miraculous thing happened! James Hook did what none other could possibly do.He leaned over and kissed her, gleeful over her confession of love... and at that very moment...he found her hidden kiss! All that time it was just there, hiding behind those words that she had not yet spoken!
And later when they went down to breakfast everyone could tell right away that Wendy's kiss had been stolen. It was easy to see too, by the rather drunken look in the dashing captain's eyes, exactly where it had gone...