The Heart of Neverland
Rejections and Windows
"Wendy, are you listening to me?" Mr. Baker was asking from his position on bended knee, his arms out stretched towards mine in a gesture that should of had me knocked off my feet and floating in the clouds. However, instead if feeling glorious elation, I couldn't help but think of questions upon questions and wonder vaguely about the premature bald spot on the top of young Mr. Bakers head.
"I was listening to you Mr. Baker," I told him honestly, "But the very truth of the matter is I cannot give you my full and undivided attention at this moment. Or ever, for that matter. Mr. Baker, I cannot marry you!"
For a second he looked desperately perplexed before he regained his composure and asked, "why?"
"Because, Mr. Baker, although you are a gentleman of wealth and status who would make my life better, I find you rather dull and incomparable," I watched as his face contorted into the expression of a beaten man who has fallen for the last time in battle. I almost felt bad about my blatant honesty, but I reminded myself it was better to break it to him now than to string him along for ages. Sighing, I continued, making sure I said enough to make him stay away and not come proposing a second time.
"Mr. Baker, on top of every other reason I cannot marry you is; I don't, nor will I ever, love you."
For a stifling moment we both remained frozen, not quite sure how to end the rather unpleasant interview. I listened as the clock on the mantle continued to strike each second with a hard tick. One, two, three, four...
Mr. Baker stood up, straightened the invisible wrinkles on his jacket and then bowed to me for the last time. " I'm sorry, Wen- Miss. Darling- if I have inconvenienced you in anyway. Good day, my lady..."
My mother, who had no doubt been listening at the door, burst into the sitting room and escorted Mr. Baker out of the parlor. I avoid making eye contact with her, although could sense the disappointment as though it were seeping through her skin and polluting the already tense air that filled the room.
As soon as she and Mr. Baker were gone and the door closed behind them with a threatening snap I collapsed onto the settee, not even thinking twice about the gown of blue silk I wore. It would be wrinkled, that much I knew, but after what had just happened I could truthfully say I didn't care. Not even a little.
The door handle turned violently and I didn't even bother standing up when mother came back through the door. "And what do you suppose that was?" She demanded, her right pointer finger aimed in the vague direction of Mr. Baker.
"I haven't the slightest idea what you are referring to," I told her calmly, folding hands delicately in my lap.
Now she turned the hand and aimed it at me. "Wendy, that was the third marriage proposal you've rejected, and that was just those within the last month!"
"Mother, every man that has come asking for my hand has either been much too old for me or someone who I've known since childhood and considered a friend, not someone I could ever love and marry," I tried explaining to her. "how could you possibly expect me to accept under those conditions?"
"Wendy," my mother said, her tone becoming softer and more motherly. "You do not have to love them. Just find someone that you can spend your life happy with. Please Wendy, you don't have to give your heart away and fall head over heels, I'm not expecting that at all and..."
Something out of the corner of my eye moved. It had been a shape, tall, dark and graceful, seeming to move of it's own accord and yet connected to something else. What had I seen?
It moved again, but this time out of the corner of my other eye. It had made it's way around the parlor and then, quickly as I had seen the spectrum person, it vanished so quickly I wondered if it had been a dream.
No, it couldn't have been, it just couldn't.
"Wendy!" all kindness had escaped my mothers voice as she tried to threaten me back into listening. But I could not be talked to, not now, not after what I was sure I had seen. I couldn't listen for another minute, not when someone could have been waiting for me.
Without a second thought I picked up my skirts and ran past mother, who was in mid lecture. "Wendy Moira Angela Darling, you come back here right now!" she called delicately as I charged like a elephant up the stars, taking some of the steps two at a time.
Upon reaching my room, I fumbled a moment with the tricky handle on my door. Why was I suddenly so anxious? There is nothing, nothing I told myself, in your room you don't already know about. Just because you though you saw something doesn't mean anything.
That didn't mean my heart couldn't hope.
Finally, after a moment of struggling, I pushed open my door, my eyes instantly going to the window on the opposite side. The window he had used to enter my life long ago,
I gasped.
The window was wide open.
"I was listening to you Mr. Baker," I told him honestly, "But the very truth of the matter is I cannot give you my full and undivided attention at this moment. Or ever, for that matter. Mr. Baker, I cannot marry you!"
For a second he looked desperately perplexed before he regained his composure and asked, "why?"
"Because, Mr. Baker, although you are a gentleman of wealth and status who would make my life better, I find you rather dull and incomparable," I watched as his face contorted into the expression of a beaten man who has fallen for the last time in battle. I almost felt bad about my blatant honesty, but I reminded myself it was better to break it to him now than to string him along for ages. Sighing, I continued, making sure I said enough to make him stay away and not come proposing a second time.
"Mr. Baker, on top of every other reason I cannot marry you is; I don't, nor will I ever, love you."
For a stifling moment we both remained frozen, not quite sure how to end the rather unpleasant interview. I listened as the clock on the mantle continued to strike each second with a hard tick. One, two, three, four...
Mr. Baker stood up, straightened the invisible wrinkles on his jacket and then bowed to me for the last time. " I'm sorry, Wen- Miss. Darling- if I have inconvenienced you in anyway. Good day, my lady..."
My mother, who had no doubt been listening at the door, burst into the sitting room and escorted Mr. Baker out of the parlor. I avoid making eye contact with her, although could sense the disappointment as though it were seeping through her skin and polluting the already tense air that filled the room.
As soon as she and Mr. Baker were gone and the door closed behind them with a threatening snap I collapsed onto the settee, not even thinking twice about the gown of blue silk I wore. It would be wrinkled, that much I knew, but after what had just happened I could truthfully say I didn't care. Not even a little.
The door handle turned violently and I didn't even bother standing up when mother came back through the door. "And what do you suppose that was?" She demanded, her right pointer finger aimed in the vague direction of Mr. Baker.
"I haven't the slightest idea what you are referring to," I told her calmly, folding hands delicately in my lap.
Now she turned the hand and aimed it at me. "Wendy, that was the third marriage proposal you've rejected, and that was just those within the last month!"
"Mother, every man that has come asking for my hand has either been much too old for me or someone who I've known since childhood and considered a friend, not someone I could ever love and marry," I tried explaining to her. "how could you possibly expect me to accept under those conditions?"
"Wendy," my mother said, her tone becoming softer and more motherly. "You do not have to love them. Just find someone that you can spend your life happy with. Please Wendy, you don't have to give your heart away and fall head over heels, I'm not expecting that at all and..."
Something out of the corner of my eye moved. It had been a shape, tall, dark and graceful, seeming to move of it's own accord and yet connected to something else. What had I seen?
It moved again, but this time out of the corner of my other eye. It had made it's way around the parlor and then, quickly as I had seen the spectrum person, it vanished so quickly I wondered if it had been a dream.
No, it couldn't have been, it just couldn't.
"Wendy!" all kindness had escaped my mothers voice as she tried to threaten me back into listening. But I could not be talked to, not now, not after what I was sure I had seen. I couldn't listen for another minute, not when someone could have been waiting for me.
Without a second thought I picked up my skirts and ran past mother, who was in mid lecture. "Wendy Moira Angela Darling, you come back here right now!" she called delicately as I charged like a elephant up the stars, taking some of the steps two at a time.
Upon reaching my room, I fumbled a moment with the tricky handle on my door. Why was I suddenly so anxious? There is nothing, nothing I told myself, in your room you don't already know about. Just because you though you saw something doesn't mean anything.
That didn't mean my heart couldn't hope.
Finally, after a moment of struggling, I pushed open my door, my eyes instantly going to the window on the opposite side. The window he had used to enter my life long ago,
I gasped.
The window was wide open.