“That’s my girl,” he exclaimed, impulsively reaching out to hug her. Then, remembering in a flash all that had transpired between them and all the promises made, he abruptly dropped his hands in an awkward swing.
Faye looked downward, appreciating his restraint. Yet in her heart she felt a dangerous, defiant twinge that told her she wanted his arms around her, to feel that tight squeeze of affection, one human being to another. People needed touch, men and women, to keep them soft and supple. Without tender stroking humans grew cold and brittle, quick to break. It had been a long, long time since she’d been really and truly hugged.
“Looks like we have another roaring mouse in the house,” he said.
“What do you mean, mouse?” she said. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know that you don’t like to rock the boat.”
“Wha... I live to rock the boat!” She could feel the heat burn her cheeks when he raised one brow and snorted. “Well, is there anything wrong with wanting to know first if the boat has any leaks in it?”
He shook his head. “Hopeless.”
“My thought exactly,” she quipped. “One doesn’t just jump into the water with two children in tow.”
“Hey, we’re on the same side here. I have an idea. A compromise. Fun”—he cast her a sidelong glance—“but nothing too wild. There’s this small amusement park not far away that’s called The Neverland. It’s based on Barrie’s island, which makes sense considering Barrie lived in London. What do you say we take the kids there? Maybe the association with Tootles’s hero will encourage him to speak?”
“It’s a fine idea, Jack. Let’s do it. Soon. Oh, I have such good feelings about this.” Her heart felt so full of hope that she felt it would burst. Looking up at Jack she smiled happily, unaware that he watched, transfixed, as a childlike gleam of excitement sprang to life in her eyes.
Chapter 12
They set off on their first London adventure the very next weekend. Maddie and Tom had worked themselves up to fever pitch, neither of them quite believing that the trip hadn’t been put off because of a deadline or delayed because of bad weather or some other excuse that grown-ups were so good at making. Tom insisted that Wendy be taken along, deaf to Faye’s complaint that Mrs. Lloyd would have her sent to the Tower of London. Tom wouldn’t budge. He wouldn’t go to The Neverland without Wendy.
On Saturday morning all the inhabitants of No. 14, young and old, climbed into a cab, and took off for The Neverland Theme Park. As they bumped along in the backseat, Wendy put her hand to her cheek and exclaimed that this was a much less comfortable way of traveling to the Neverland.
“Flying on the back of the wind is ever so much more fun!”
Tom surprised everyone by laughing out loud at this as the spirit of adventure took the place of sulky shyness in his eyes. Jack squeezed Faye’s hand, and she promptly squeezed back.
As they approached the entrance to The Neverland their excitement bubbled, and the children pointed toward the bits of pale pinks, greens, and purples of the rides and carousels peeking through the dark green foliage. Up close, however, it was clear the theme park had seen better days. There was really little more than a sparse collection of out-of-date rides and drooping old confection stands bordered by rickety brown fencing.
Stepping out from the cab at the entrance, Faye felt a wave of worry that she tried to keep from her face. Maddie and Tom, however, thought it was all marvelous and hooted with impatience, pawing at the pea-gravel like racehorses at the gate as Jack paid for the entrance tickets.
“Oh look, Wendy!” cried Maddie dancing on tiptoe. “There’s the pirate ship. And over there! It’s the Mermaids’ Lagoon. Just like in the book. And way over there. I think it’s a totem pole. It must be where Tiger Lily lives!”
Tom grasped Wendy’s hand and peered out with an expression that was part eagerness and part fear.
“It does look a bit like her totem pole,” replied Wendy, blinking and looking around at the strange world before her. Her small, wizened face appeared perplexed, and her eyes were sparkling with bewilderment. She shook her head, and, with her fingertip to her cheek, said smartly, “But the lagoon is all wrong! I should hope they don’t think that pitiful lump is Marooners’ Rock? Tsk. Come, children, let’s take a look-see.”
Jack issued the tickets, and the children were through the turnstile like a shot.
“Careful, Tom, don’t drag Wendy so,” Faye called out, but they were already beyond earshot, a vision of a six-year-old boy tugging at the hand of a spry old woman.
“She won’t get too tired?” Faye asked Jack, as they stopped to buy peanuts from a vendor.
“I imagine she’ll tell us if she does. Wendy’s an old hand at this. Come on, Faye. Let’s go on the Pirate Ship.”
“Oh no, I never go on rides. I get sick.”
“Stalling again.” He took her hand and raced her to the makeshift pirate ship that swung back and forth, higher and higher, like an enormous pendulum. Faye felt like a child herself, holding hands with her best friend and running. Wendy and the children were already in line, and Maddie danced in excitement as she waved at them to hurry and scoot in line behind them. When they reached them Faye leaned against Jack’s chest, catching her breath, feeling a giddy gladness when he looped his arm around her shoulder in camaraderie.
The rest of the morning continued in this happy manner. The children pointed at rides that they recognized from the story of Peter Pan—and others they didn’t but had been added on over the years—then took off at a sprint, usually with Jack in tow, sparing not a glance for their mother. She preferred to follow at a more leisurely pace with Wendy, holding sweaters and bottles of water and half-eaten stalks of cotton candy that smelled of pure cane sugar. She rode a few gentler rides and skipped anything that meant she had to go upside down or twirl left to right till her brain rattled.
The children couldn’t understand how it was more than thrill enough for her to simply watch them gripping the metal safety bars with ear-to-ear grins plastered on their faces. Maddie’s expression lost all of its usual caution, and she jumped and wriggled in her seat like any eight-year-old girl. When she smiled her whole countenance brightened, and Faye was surprised to see that her color was better and she looked not mousy, but pretty. And Tom...Faye had to laugh herself when she saw her shy boy throw back his head and laugh out loud. It was his high-pitched squeals that Faye heard over all the other laughter, screaming, and carnival music that pierced the summer’s afternoon. The sound of her child’s laughter, after so much silence, was the sweetest music she could ever hope to hear.
“Mom, where’s Wendy?”
They had just finished a round on the Ferris wheel, and Faye’s knees were feeling a bit watery.
“What do you mean?” she exclaimed, quickly searching the faces of her small group: Maddie, Tom, Jack. No Wendy. Her heart leaped to her throat. “She probably just wandered off. You know how she’s studying all the park’s details.”
“Tom,” said Jack, stepping up and taking his hand. “Why don’t you and I walk to the front gate while your mom and Maddie circle once around? It’s not a big park; she can’t have gone far.”
Tom saw the look in Jack’s eyes and quickly took his hand. “Come on, partner.”
The two walked off while Maddie and Faye headed in the opposite direction. When they met again at the front gate of the park, Wendy was nowhere to be found.
“Where might she have gone?” Faye said, worried now. “She seemed confused. All morning she kept pointing out what looked like the real Neverland and what didn’t. It seemed bittersweet for her to see all this. Maybe it was too much. What if she, well you know...” She looked at the children and closed her mouth, unwilling to alarm the children.
“She probably just flew to the real Neverland,” Maddie said in a serious tone.
“Don’t be silly,” Faye snapped, her worry making her tense.
Jack patted Maddie’s shoulder with
his large palm, easing away the scowl that had flashed across her face. “More likely she just took a little stroll. There’s a lovely park just beyond these gates, and you know how Wendy loves flowers. I’ll bet she’s right over yonder admiring the roses.”
“You’re right.” Maddie perked back up. “Wendy especially loves roses.”-
“She does indeed,” added Faye gently, stroking Maddie’s hair in a gesture to restore peace between them.
Tom grasped hold of this possibility and began marching with a single-minded purpose toward the exit sign, his little fists bunched by his thighs. It struck Faye that her son was an odd, determined little person whom she hardly knew.
“I guess we’d better hustle before we lose Tootles, too,” Jack said.
“Oh, he’ll find her,” Maddie chirped, skipping to keep up. “He always knows where Wendy is.”
It turned out that Maddie was right. Like a homing pigeon, Tom led them past the rose garden straight to a small patch of trees that created a lovely shaded spot. Beneath them a few wooden benches clustered, and on one of the benches sat Wendy. She was busily engaged in conversation with a young couple while petting, admiring, and lavishing attention on their enormous St. Bernard dog. On drawing nearer, they could see five roly-poly puppies yapping on the ground beside them.
“Oh, the lovelies!” Maddie cried in pure ecstasy, and ran to join Wendy and Tom in the love fest on the grass.
“Leave it to Wendy to find puppies,” Jack said, grinning, daring Faye not to feel the joy. “You realize what’s going to happen, don’t you?”
“Oh no,” Faye said, balking. “No puppy...”
“I’m just warning you.”
“Faye! Jack!” called Wendy merrily, waving. “Come close, children, and meet Nana!
Imagine, after all these years. I scarce could believe my eyes when I saw the Currans walk by the park with their sweet new family in tow. I simply had to dash off to catch them. I hope I didn’t alarm you much, running off like that. First The Neverland, and now Nana. Such a day!”
Faye’s eyes met Jack’s, and she was concerned to see for the first time the flicker of worry in his eyes as well. Even Faye knew that Nana was the name of the dog that acted as nurse to the Darling children in Peter Pan. Faye felt so sad for the imaginative old woman, knowing she would have to burst her bubble. She only hoped she wasn’t too late and a scene wasn’t in the offing. She glanced at the young owners of the dog, expecting to see worry etched on their faces as well. Instead they were beaming, not the least uncomfortable with Wendy’s crazy assertions.
“How do you do,” she said, stepping forward and extending her hand. “I’m terribly sorry for the bother. Wendy seems to think this dog is... well, her own Nana.” Her tone implied apology.
“Her name is Lady,” replied the young woman breezily.
"A lovely name."
“But it’s the most amazing thing,” the young woman continued. “Her mother’s name was Nana. And hers before that. It’s a tradition. In every litter the pick female must be named Nana, you see, because they’re descendants of the very same Nana that James Barrie used as a model in his book, Peter Pan.”
“And that Nana was my own dear Nana,” said Wendy. “That’s how I met Sir James in the first place, so many years ago. I was in Kensington Gardens with my Nana, and he was there with his St. Bernard, Porthos, and I guess you could say the two dogs introduced us.” Her face softened with the memory.
Faye’s mouth slipped open, but she had no words. Wendy met Sir James Barrie, the literary celebrity? Perhaps, she thought with some relief, that might explain things. Perhaps she was simply mixing up her memories. It still wasn’t reality, but it wasn’t totally crazy either.
Beside her, Maddie cooed and retrieved one puppy from the pile that was jumping all over Tom, nipping his ears and licking his face.
“It’s amazing that Wendy recognized our Lady.” The sun reflected from Mrs. Curran’s round eyeglasses as she smiled and patted her dog’s head affectionately.
“But of course I would,” Wendy blithely replied. “There’s something in the eyes, and the shape of the head, and, well, so many things. It’s a feeling, too, you know. We always know our loved ones. Even in the dark.”
She looked up as Maddie solemnly, cautiously approached her with one puppy gently cradled in her arms. “And look at that one in particular,” Wendy said, reaching out to examine the head of the plump puppy in Maddie’s arms. “She’s the very image of my Nana.”
This was met with another gasp of surprise from Mrs. Curran. “But that’s remarkable. That puppy is the one we call Nana.”
“You see? What did I tell you?”
Jack bent over to whisper in Faye’s ear, “Here it comes.”
As though on cue Maddie whined, “Oh, Mom, please may we have her? Please, please? I’ll take care of her. You won’t have to do a thing.”
Faye took a breath, readying the long list of reasons why a puppy would be impossible, excuses she’d made before, excuses many mothers had made through the ages. Not because mothers didn’t love puppies, but because they loved their children more. A mother knows, despite the heartfelt promises of her insincere little darlings, that the one who would end up caring for the puppy would be her. The mother knows that the puppy will soon grow into a dog that will chew the furniture and pee on the carpets and bark at the mailman and most likely get them evicted from their apartment. And if that weren’t enough, every mother knows that she would be the one who falls headfirst in love with the puppy-who-would-grow-into-a-dog, and that she would continue to love the dog long after the children lost interest or went off to school.
None of that mattered now, of course. Now, she was simply a Mean Mother.
“We don’t even know if the puppy is available,” she argued. She lifted her eyes, trying desperately to convey with her eyes the message, “Please say no!”
Alas, the couple was young and childless and obviously hadn’t learned the signals yet.
“Oh, not to worry. We have a long list of people who want the puppies, but it seems only fair that Wendy has an opportunity to have Nana back again. It's serendipity that we met today. After all, it was she who started it all, wasn’t it?”
They were determinedly friendly, unrestrainedly good-natured, and delighted with the unexpected turn of events. Obviously, their dog’s heritage meant a great deal to the Currans. Lady was their treasured pet and meeting THE Wendy Forrester was the highlight of their day, probably even their year.
Faye rolled her eyes. Now she had Tom’s pleading looks to deal with, and, beside him, Jack and Wendy plagued her with expectant expressions. She hardened her heart. Someone had to be practical in this crazy bunch.
“No, I’m sorry. No, we simply couldn’t. I don’t think Mrs. Lloyd will allow it.”
“Beans to Jane!” exclaimed Wendy. “It’s my house, and I say it’s only right that Nana should come back home.”
The forces were attacking full strength now. Faye had no choice but to dig deeper into the trench. “We’re scraping by as it is, children. I don’t think we could afford to take on a dog, too. Especially such a big one.” She saw Tom turn away in a slump-shouldered sulk that she knew could go on for hours and Maddie’s eyes fill with reproachful tears. The flow of guilt was like a tidal wave.
“But Nana could grow up to be our babysitter, like in the book,” Maddie argued.
“Really, children, try to understand. I can’t. I...”
Jack stepped forward and gathered the puppy from Maddie’s crushing hold and rested it against his chest. He stroked the floppy ears while the puppy licked his fingers. “She’s a pretty thing, isn’t she? I love dogs. Have been meaning to get one for a long time and was just waiting for the right one to come along. And since Wendy says it’s okay and I won’t get evicted, why don’t I take her? That way, you kids and Wendy—and you, too, Faye, can all come and see Nana whenever you want.”
“But she won’t be ours...” whined
Maddie.
“It’ll be just like she is. You two can be in charge of her care. She’ll be your responsibility. You can feed her and walk her and make sure she gets a hefty dose of love several times a day. We can open up the back stairwell to my flat so you won’t even have to go outdoors. How’s that?”
“The locks on the doors are old and difficult,” Wendy said. “And I don’t have the keys, I’m afraid.”
Jack smirked. “No problem.”
“Excellent, dear boy! Then I’ll open my door, too,” Wendy exclaimed, hands clasped together and eyes bright. “Why, with Nana back and the children and the doors all open, Number 14 will be a family home once again!”
Chapter 13
One of the most charming aspects of being proved wrong is that everyone works doubly hard to drive the point home.
Once Faye stated that she didn’t think the puppy would work out, Maddie and Tom were faultless in their responsibilities to Nana. Jack, too, proved he was as good as his word. With Wendy’s approval, he disassembled the lock to the rear stairwell doors that once upon a time servants used to connect the kitchen to the main house. Wendy kept her door unlocked as well so that the children could come and go as they pleased. Lodged between Wendy and her delightful nursery and Jack and the puppy, the children ran up and down the stairs freely all day long, Nana barking at their heels. By the end of another week, No. 14’s transition back from a three flat to a single-family home flowed as naturally as three tributaries cascading into one great river.
Faye swept the front stoop of No. 14 and thought she’d never felt such simple joy before in her life. It wasn’t just that the walls of No. 14 were as thick and secure as a tank’s, or that the garden was charming with its beds of roses and smattering of annuals tended by her children’s hands. Nor was it because her children seldom quarreled anymore, or that they were now as brown as berries from hours in the sun, or that the presence of one puppy elicited so many giggles. None of these simple joys could have evolved if she, the mother, hadn’t changed. How true it was that a mother’s attitude and spirit affected the whole family.
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