Planet Neverland: A Space Age Fairy Tale (Star-Crossed Tales)

by J. M. Page

  They were interrupted by the waiter, who deftly helped them navigate the menu and made suggestions to Wendy who was unfamiliar with the local cuisine. They hadn't really ventured outside of convenience foods since she arrived and this was her first taste of what the culinary scene Neverland had to offer. Peter was glad to be a part of it.

  Once the waiter left, Wendy sighed. "Okay," she said, splaying her fingers on the tablecloth in front of her. "I guess it's time you know the truth."

  Peter's heart dropped, his stomach doing a flip as his blood turned to ice. That phrase never meant anything good. For some reason, Peter had the terrifying thought that she was going to break his heart. But that was ridiculous. For her to break his heart, he'd have to...

  "The twins, they were really sick as kids, you know?" She twisted the hem of the tablecloth in her fingers, not really looking up at him, but Peter's heart slowly started beating again, his blood warming as he realized she wasn't about to reveal her secret marriage or something. He rolled his shoulders, finding that he'd tensed up in preparation for a blow she didn't deliver.

  "I mean, you wouldn't know of course, but they were. Some kind of heart defect. I was pretty young when they were born, but I can still remember all the hospital visits... Surgery after surgery, their tiny frail bodies stuck with tubes and needles." She shuddered, reaching for her wine glass. She took a sip, made a face at the tartness and set the glass back down, continuing. "They put them in this hermetically sealed tube to prevent infections and my mom couldn't even hold them. I know she tried to hide it, but sometimes I'd hear her crying, her hand pressed against the glass..." Wendy swallowed and took a deep breath shaking her head.

  "They were so fragile, and no one wanted to say it to me at the time, but I know it was kind of a miracle that they made it at all. Let alone that they've grown up so big and strong. I don't think anyone could have predicted it. But that's the twins," she said, a smile taking over before her face turned serious.

  "They're tough, you know? They don't give up, never have, even when they were babies against all the odds, they fought and never stopped fighting. But they don't remember all of that bad stuff. They were too young. They don't remember the whole family curled up together in the hospital room, afraid to fall asleep because we were sure we'd wake up to find out they were gone." She laughed, but it wasn't a funny laugh, it was disbelief.

  "I don't think my parents slept the first four years, honestly. It was hard for everyone."

  Peter swallowed past the thick lump in his throat, overcome with compassion for her. He couldn't imagine what it had been like for her to grow up with that hanging over her head. Over all of their heads.

  "I had no idea," he said. He'd given her such a hard time without having a clue. He'd been such a jerk and now the guilt gnawed at him.

  Wendy shrugged one shoulder and gave him a sad smile. "How could you? It's not something we really talk about. The boys hate it when I say something about being careful or avoiding too much excitement. There's always the chance that they could have a heart attack... It's not even a small chance," she said, like she needed to defend herself. "But they don't want to hear it. They've conquered death and they're invincible. Teenagers, you know?"

  Peter tried a smile, but he didn't think it worked. He didn't know anything about teenagers. He didn't remember what it was like to be one, and he'd never really known one either. But he did understand the feeling of being untouchable. Feeling like the whole world was at your fingertips and nothing could bring you down. That he knew plenty about.

  "Well, that certainly puts a lot of things in perspective," he said, feeling that stab of guilt again. She really was just protecting them. It didn't even seem overzealous to him anymore at this point.

  She nodded. "Yeah, I know I get in the way and I'm annoying and I ruin all the fun, but... It's just because I can't stand the thought of seeing them in a hospital again... or worse."

  Peter was overcome with the urge to reach across the table and take her hand in his, giving it a little squeeze as he did. "Hey," he said, his voice soft and coaxing. She lifted her eyes to meet his and Peter was struck again with just how beautiful she was. The way she wore her heart on her sleeve... it was admirable, really. Her vulnerability only made him want her more. He wanted to comfort her and take away her troubles.

  "That's not going to happen. I'm here to help you look after them now. They're going to be fine."

  Wendy smiled, nodding, seeming to accept his reassurance. "Yeah, they really look up to you. You're so impressive to them. I was always too busy worrying about them burning the house down to get really excited by all the cool experiments and inventions. I couldn't encourage it too much, you know? We needed a place to live, after all. But you're just as into all that crazy stuff as they are. It's good for them... You're good for them," she said. Then, after a beat of silence, she added, "I'm really happy they've met you... Well, that we've all met you." She looked down at her hands, a small secretive smile on her lips.

  In one fluid movement, Peter stood up and pushed his chair back. "Let's go out to the balcony," he said, offering his hand. He needed fresh air.

  The way she looked tonight, so innocent and coy... Those bashful glances she kept sending his way... It was doing the opposite of quenching his desire for her. Being with Wendy made the need stronger, the need to be closer to her, to feel her against him, to have her in his arms.

  The more she talked, the more he wanted her and the hotter his blood got. Hopefully, the fresh air would clear his head or he was bound to do something terribly reckless.

  Wendy looked up from her clasped hands and turned toward the wall of windows, eyes wide. "We can do that?" There was a wide concrete deck beyond the windows, and a clear glass railing, but there was no one out there.

  He grinned as she slipped her hand into his. "Sure, if you know who to talk to."

  He left her at the door to the balcony to find the maître d'. With a well-placed tip, he secured private access to the balcony, ensuring they could have a moment alone without interruption. Sure, that money could have gone towards the theater fund, but right now, he needed this more.

  And that was what worried him the most. But when he was with Wendy he found it hard to worry about anything at all. She so expertly worried about everything that it seemed redundant for Peter to fret about it too. But she deserved a break. It sounded to him like she hadn't stopped worrying her whole life and he wanted to take that burden away from her. To help her relax and let go in a way she never had... in the way he was sure she needed.

  Wendy paused, soaking in the view as he led her onto the balcony, one hand settled on her lower back.

  "Wow," she said, leaning against the railing, a breeze ruffling her hair, filling his senses with her and her floral scent. "It looks so different from up here."

  He nodded, drinking in the city lights, the way she practically glowed out here under the turquoise and gold sky. She was breathtaking. That was the only word he had for it.

  "Much smaller," he agreed. "Hard to believe a city this size could have so much going on."

  Wendy smiled. "Yeah, you'd never know. But it's all so calm up here."

  "Makes you feel like you can take on anything," he said.

  Their eyes met for a moment and his hand tightened around her waist. Her eyes shimmered, something unspoken on the tip of her tongue.

  "I think you might be a good influence on me," she finally said, her lips curling up. "On all of us, but me especially."

  Peter couldn't help laughing. "That's something I've never been accused of before."

  She grinned wider and nudged him with her shoulder playfully. "I'm serious, though. I've never been very good at stepping back and giving them space to do their thing. I never really accepted how much they've grown up." She sighed, turning back to the city, her eyes roving over it, maybe trying to find the theater where her brothers were this very moment. "For the longest time, it felt like tempting fate to even imagine the
m being adults and now..."

  Peter's fingers gripped her hip, pulling her closer into his side. "They've turned into great men, Wendy," he said, his voice low and soft. "They're honest and honorable and they love you more than anything. You did a good job with them."

  She didn't look at him, but a smile stretched across her face and she rested her head on his shoulder, melting into him. For that moment, everything was right in Peter's world. But there was still something tugging at him, some unknown he couldn't let rest. He had her alone now, he had the chance to learn everything he could about her, and he needed to take full advantage of it if he was going to get her out of his system.

  So far, this date had done precisely the opposite. Only making him want her more, making him want to make her happy, to ease her troubles, to have her at his side for all time. Talk about a backfire.

  But this one story she hadn't told him, he was sure it was the key to understanding so much about her and he couldn't let it rest. Couldn't let it go.

  Before he could talk himself out of it, Peter asked, "What happened to your parents?" The moment the words crossed his lips, Peter cursed himself internally. Thinking it was one thing, but bringing up such a subject out loud seemed like a colossal mistake. Idiocy of the highest degree.

  Great conversation topic for trying to woo a lady, he thought, feeling monumentally stupid. The question had risen from his mind and he'd blurted it out before even thinking.

  But Wendy didn't look angry. She stiffened in his arms, sure, but her head still rested on his shoulder and Peter lifted his arm from her waist to wrap around her slight shoulders, trying to draw her closer, though they were already pressed together. He wanted to shield her from the chill of the night air, even though he was sure that wasn't the reason behind the shiver that went through her.

  "It was right after the twins' last surgery," she started, her voice distant and soft. Peter wanted to stop her, to tell her she didn't have to relive this for his sake, but he was afraid if he interrupted, he'd never find out. And maybe she needed to tell the story as much as he needed to hear it. Maybe it would be a weight off her. So he just let her talk without interrupting.

  "The boys had been at the hospital so much that their bedroom felt like a strange place. They were having trouble feeling comfortable and settling down and my parents... Well, they'd do anything in the world to make us happy. And you know, to tell the truth, they probably needed some time alone, just the two of them, after everything that happened. You know, to unwind and finally let out the breath they'd been holding for five years." She shrugged. "I guess I'll never know, but in any case, they decided to drive into town to get us some ice cream and left me in charge."

  She took another deep breath, and this time when she exhaled, Peter felt her trembling. He traced little circles on her upper arm with his fingertips, still holding her tight, his heart aching for her.

  "I still remember my dad getting down to eye-level with me and asking if I could handle taking care of them on my own until they got back," she said softly, so quiet he wasn't sure he was meant to hear it. His fingers tightened on her shoulder, sucking in a breath because he knew how this story ended. They never did come back. They left Wendy all alone, feeling responsible for her brothers. Forever.

  "It was already late and even though they were uncomfortable, it had been a long drive home from the hospital and the boys were exhausted. I read them a story and put them to bed, figuring I could wake them up when Mom and Dad got home. But it just kept getting later and then I went to bed too, feeling bad that the ice cream would all melt."

  She laughed softly, swiping away a single tear that tracked down her cheek. "I was worried about the ice cream," she said, disbelief in her tone. She still didn't look at him, her eyes glued to the city as if in a trance. Peter worried if he said anything or did anything that he'd break her out of it and never get this moment back. As much as he hated seeing her in pain, he was so grateful she let him be there for her. So honored to get this glimpse into the real Wendy.

  Finally, she sighed once more and shook her head, like she was trying to clear away her thoughts. "No one knows for sure, of course, but the best guess anyone had is that they tried to take the mountain pass shortcut. There was a freak early snowstorm that year and the roads were impassable... The rescue team that found them guessed that they tried to take an abandoned maintenance road and got stuck." Peter's heart tightened in his chest, the breath leaving his lungs empty and burning for air. "They were found frozen, in each other's arms," she said, a statement of fact, no emotion in the words.

  Her voice was so hollow and far-off that she didn't even sound like herself anymore. Peter felt guilt bubbling in his gut again, that he'd brought this up, that he'd made her relive this trauma.

  Wendy took another shuddering breath, her voice breaking when she spoke again. "I didn't call anyone when they didn't come home. I just went to bed expecting them to show up by morning. Maybe if I'd done something they could have been found in time... I don't know," she sighed, a pair of tears trailing down her cheeks.

  Peter shook his head, his whole chest painfully tight. All this time, she blamed herself for not doing enough when there was nothing she could have done. She'd lived with this burden for so long. He turned his head and pressed his lips to her silky hair, the only reassurance he knew how to give in that moment. He didn't think she even noticed.

  "You had no way of knowing," he said softly, unable to hold his silence any longer.

  Wendy nodded, using the side of her hand to swipe at the fresh tears. He hated himself for dredging up this painful memory, but now, more than ever, he wanted to ease her sorrows. He just didn't know how.

  "How old were you?" he asked.

  "Thirteen," she answered, fortifying herself with a steady breath, her voice getting firmer.

  "And it's been just you and the twins ever since?"

  She shook her head. "Not exactly. For a while there were family members that came to help out. One aunt stayed for a few months, then a grandparent could come for a few weeks, a distant cousin for a few weeks more... But no one really wanted to take in three kids. No one wanted to take on all the responsibility... especially with everything going on with the boys..."

  "But you did," Peter said, already knowing the answer. Wendy didn't back down from a challenge, and she'd never turn her back on her family.

  She gave a stiff nod. "Of course. I promised my parents I would take care of the boys and I keep my promises. By the time I was sixteen, I petitioned for full custody, and the rest is history. It's been just the three of us ever since."

  Wendy turned in his arms to look at him, a small smile playing on her lips. "You know, it's not something I ever would have wished for, but I'm really glad I got the opportunity to raise the boys and see them grow up with the perspective I had. Sure, I had to give up a lot of my own dreams and stuff, but it was all worth it."

  His heart racing, Peter's hand moved up to cup her jaw, the pad of his thumb brushing away a tear that had been left behind. "Has anyone ever told you what an incredible woman you are?" he asked, his voice low and husky even to his own ears. He didn't know what it was about her, but she made his heart swell. His pulse beat hard with appreciation and desire for this strong, independent, loving woman.

  Wendy's lips parted slightly, like she was surprised at his words, but Peter didn't waste a moment. He dipped down to capture her lips with his, feeling her gasp into him before she melted in his arms, her hands going to his chest, clutching at his shirt. Peter's arms circled around her back, pulling her even closer, deepening the kiss as he did.

  A gentle wind swept around them and ruffled Wendy's hair, tickling Peter's nose with the tendrils of silky copper. His lungs were filled with the scent of her, his mouth with the taste of her, his whole body alive with the feel of her so close, and so open to him.

  He never wanted the moment to end, and when they finally did break the kiss, it still felt too soon.

  Even
in the low light, Peter could see the warm flush in Wendy's cheeks, her lips pink and puffy, her eyes shining like they were lit from within. Just looking at her made his blood lava in his veins.

  He'd thought that being here with her would cool his need for her, but she'd only stoked the flames higher. Kissing her was more powerful than any drug. And he knew he'd have to do it again. As soon as possible.

  "I—" she started to say, but he couldn't let her apologize or ruin it. He cut her off with another kiss. This time, it was less urgent, less feverish, softer, more exploratory.

  The next time she pulled away, Wendy was smiling. Peter was too. For a long moment, they just looked at each other grinning like fools. After a bit, Peter couldn't contain his joy anymore and his laughter bubbled over.

  "I couldn't help myself," he said, still soaking in the sight of her bathed in the glow of the city, red and flustered from his kiss. Simply stunning.

  "I'm glad," she whispered, her hand finding his, lacing their fingers together. Her hand nestled so perfectly in his, and when he held her in his arms, they felt like interlocking puzzle pieces. Surely that couldn't just be a coincidence. Surely that meant something more.

  You're getting ahead of yourself, he reprimanded himself mentally. He was meant to be getting her out of his head, not fantasizing about a future with her.

  "Perhaps we should go back inside, though," she said, her eyes drifting back toward the restaurant where the waiter had undoubtedly already delivered their meals to an empty table. Peter didn't care. He wasn't in a hurry to end this magical moment.

  "It's a bit chilly out here," she added with a shiver as another breeze rustled her skirt.

  Peter released her from his arms long enough to pull off his jacket, draping it over her shoulders. She smiled and pulled the jacket tight around herself. Peter swore he saw her take a deep breath with her nose buried in the collar and it made him grin even more. Perhaps he had the same effect on her that she had on him. He could hope.

  That's not at all what you should be hoping for, the voice inside his head chastised, but he shoved it aside, not caring at all for the negativity of that voice when he had this angel in front of him.