Page 27 of Darling

Wendy closed her eyes and, by the grace of God, snatched on a memory of something her mom had sung to her as a kid. Hopefully it was good enough.

“I wish I had a pretty house,

The littlest ever seen,

With funny little red walls

And roof of mossy green.”

Tinkerbelle loosened her death grip on Wendy’s knee and looked so relieved that she seemed like she was about to faint.

“Next I guess, I think I’ll have

Gay windows all about,

With roses peeping in, you know,

And babies peeping out.”

None of the older boys looked particularly impressed with this poem, but Tootles seemed enchanted. Wendy paused and looked at Prentis, who seemed just as relieved as Tinkerbelle that Wendy had come up with something.

“One more line,” Peter said quietly. He stared at her unblinkingly from across the table, his hands steepled in front of his mouth. “For Tootles.”

“Um…” Wendy wracked her brain desperately.

“I’ll have a chimney big and tall

With black smoke at the top

To share the warm hearth with you all

And … I would like to stop.”

Peter burst into laughter at her last line, tossing his head back winningly—reminding Wendy, with startling clarity, just how distractingly beautiful he was when he smiled. When Peter finished laughing, he looked at her differently: cheeks gently flushed and golden eyes hazy. Closer to the way he’d looked at her when he was inside her house. “Darling, you really are something else, aren’t you?” he said, his voice rough and warm. Familiar.

Tinkerbelle reached under the table and squeezed Wendy’s hand tenderly. This had clearly been some sort of test, Wendy realized, and she had just barely passed.

The cool tension had lifted from the table, and Curly stood and began picking up everyone’s plates to bring them to the sink.

“Grab your stuff. We’re heading out,” Peter announced. “Those football meatheads are downstairs, and I don’t like to keep them waiting. Curly, change out of those pants and into something else. They don’t fit, and you look ridiculous.”

Curly scowled, but headed off in the direction of his room.

Slightly leaned over. “I’m not sure if I’ll see you again after this, Darling, but I just wanted to say that it was nice to meet you.”

Slightly and Prentis were so different from the other boys. Prentis reminded her of someone who could easily have gone to her old school, or maybe even somewhere fancier. Slightly, on the other hand, acted much more like an actual adult than anyone his age she’d ever met, and seemed like he had his life way more in order than even Peter. Prentis said he had just arrived, so that sort of made sense. Slightly, on the other hand, had been the one who was tased in Peter’s train story. So he had to have been living here for at least three years.

Wendy stuck out her hand to Slightly. “It was nice to meet you, too. You’re an amazing cook, and I really hope you … do well.”

Slightly smiled warmly, his dark cheekbones sharp in the candlelight. “Me too,” he replied.

Prentis stood to pull Wendy’s chair out again. “You look really nice,” he said. “I hope you have a good time at the party.”

“Thank you.”

Prentis looked over her shoulder at Peter, who was putting a few things in a messenger bag across the room.

“I hope you have a safe time at the party,” Prentis said, so quiet that Wendy could barely hear him.