"Peter! It's so nice to meet you!"
Peter was a little startled as Mrs. Darling pulled him through the door and into a big hug. Wendy smiled apologetically at him as her mother squeezed him. She pulled back and studied him.
"But haven't we met before? You look so familiar."
Peter grimaced. She had seen him once before. It had been on the day he met Wendy. He was the reason Mrs. Darling fell off the ladder and was sent to the hospital. But before he could come up with an answer, Wendy stepped in. "You probably have seen him around, he lives close by."
"Oh? Where do you live Peter?"
"Neverland."
Mrs. Darling frowned. Wendy cut in again.
"He means it's in that neighborhood by that big Chinese restaurant called Neverland. It's kind of a landmark."
"I've never heard of it."
"It's delicious. You should try it sometime."
Peter opened his mouth to protest, but before he could say anything, Wendy ushered them all to the table.
"Let's eat! The food's getting cold."
They all sat down in the small dining room and Peter took in the spread on the table. He had been so concerned about meeting Wendy's mother that he had barely eaten anything all day. Now with the steaming food in front of him, he realized he was famished. He grabbed a roll and put half of it in his mouth.
"Oh! I guess we're starting," Mrs. Darling said with a strained laugh.
Peter froze and glanced at Wendy.
"It's fine," Wendy said dismissively. "Mom, I think you've just forgotten what it's like to eat with boys."
Mrs. Darling's expression softened. "That's true. Michael would often finish half of his plate before the rest of us had even sat down at the table. Although, he was only seven..."
"So, Peter is an inventor," Wendy interrupted, dishing some potatoes and chicken onto Peter's plate.
"That's wonderful! What kinds of things have you invented?"
Peter swallowed his bite of potatoes. "Lots of things. Pixie dust, fishing floats, zebra trees, fingerprint collectors, voice changers, chicken ticks... right now I'm working on a spray that can vaporize your nose hairs, but so far the side effects have been pretty weird." Peter noticed that Mrs. Darling was looking at him with an odd expression and thought that maybe he was talking too much about himself. "Your daughter is very talented," he said, changing the subject. "She designed the most incredible bridge. It's breathtaking."
Mrs. Darling beamed. "Yes, she's always had an aptitude for design. Have you already gotten that far in your class, Wendy?"
"What class?" Peter asked.
Mrs. Darling looked between them. "Oh, I thought that's where you met."
"Yes, it is," Wendy said quickly. She squeezed Peter's knee under the table in a way that excited and confused him at the same time. He couldn't understand why Wendy kept lying to her mother. Then an awful thought crossed his mind. Wendy was ashamed of him. It was something he had never before considered and the realization stung him. It took him a moment to realize that Mrs. Darling was talking to him.
"Do you like the potatoes, Peter?"
"Yes, they're fantastic," he responded, trying to push away the disturbing feelings. "But I know someone who makes them a little bit better. Something in the seasoning, I think."
"I see," Mrs. Darling said, cutting her chicken with a little more aggression than Peter thought was necessary. "So, do you two spend a lot of time together?"
"Yeah, I was here for hours the other night."
"Ah, we were working on an assignment," Wendy interjected.
"Actually we were flying."
Wendy burst into an unnatural laugh. "He means we were flying through the assignment! We got so much done that night! Peter is such a hard worker!"
"How nice," Wendy's mother said with a tight smile. "And Peter, what field do you plan to go into?"
Peter furrowed his brows. "Field?"
"Your career. What do you want to be when you grow up?"
Wendy put her head in her hands but Peter simply smiled back at Mrs. Darling.
"Oh, I don't plan on growing up, ma'am."
Mrs. Darling stared at Peter for a full five seconds until she heard her phone ringing in the other room.
"I'd better get that. It might be the hospital." She excused herself, leaving Peter and Wendy alone in the dining room.
"Oh, this is a disaster," Wendy muttered.
Peter stared down at his plate. "Do I embarrass you?"
"No, Peter, it's just..." she trailed off.
"It's because I didn't compliment your mother's ankles, isn't it?"
"What? Her ankles? No!"
"I don't understand why you don't just tell her the truth."
Wendy sighed and looked up at him. He could tell she was stressed, and there was an uncertainty in her expression that put him on edge. She reached over and took his hand. "Do you remember when you first met me?"
"Of course."
"You tried to tell me about Neverland, but I just thought you were crazy."
Peter couldn't help but smile. He had dragged her to Neverland and she had been so angry until she actually saw it. He could see why telling Mrs. Darling about it might not be such a great idea.
"It's a lot to take in all at once," Wendy explained. "I was hoping to ease her into it."
"Ease me into what?" Mrs. Darling asked, rushing into the room. "Oh dear, you're not pregnant, are you?"
"No!" Wendy cried emphatically. Peter felt his cheeks burning.
"Oh, thank goodness," said Mrs. Darling, pressing her hand to her forehead. She turned and picked up her purse. "That was the hospital. They're understaffed tonight so I have to go in." She looked at Peter. "Will you be staying long?"
"No, we've got the tournament tomorrow."
"Oh good. I mean... well, that is what I mean. It was nice to meet you. Wendy, don't stay up too late." She grabbed her coat, gave a harried wave goodbye and walked out the door. Wendy stood and began to clear the table. Peter joined her.
"Well, I suppose things could have gone worse," Wendy said with a small smile.
Peter shrugged. "She'll warm up to me eventually. People always do."
"Because you're so charming and humble."
"Probably."
Wendy wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his chest. He reveled in her nearness for a few seconds before he spoke.
"You are still coming to the tournament tomorrow, aren't you?"
"Of course," she replied, pulling away. "I've already requested to leave early from work. I wouldn't miss it." She hugged him again and spoke into his shoulder. "Peter, what are you wearing?"
"This shirt? It's Slightly's."
"Ah. That explains a lot."
*****
"Are you ready?" One of the twins called out as he rushed by. "The tournament starts in 10 minutes. Why are you just standing there?"
"I'm just doing some mental preparation," Peter lied.
"Take your time," the twin laughed. "I wouldn't mind if you were disqualified!"
"I'll be there," Peter said as the twin ran out of the house.
Peter checked all of his gear and his suit again. He was ready. He had slept well and had plenty of energy. He had stocked all of his relevant devices on his belt. He felt confident that he was about to win another tournament. Everything was perfect.
Almost.
Wendy wasn't there yet.
He reviewed the events of the evening before. Dinner hadn't been ideal, but the night had ended well and Wendy seemed like she really wanted to come. He had told her to meet him in the tree house, but it was already 40 minutes past the time she said she would be there. Maybe she had run into someone on her way and they had taken her to the lagoon, where the competition was going to start. He assured himself that this must be the case and started toward the beach.
Everyone else was already there when he arrived, but there was no sign of Wendy. Peter asked Curly, Nibs, and Bill Jukes if they had seen her, but none of them had. Peter was beginning to panic. Suddenly a monotone, feminine voice rang out across the lagoon, signaling the start of the tournament.
"Welcome to the tenth annual Neverland tournament," announced the programmed voice. "Please connect your shadows to the console."
Everyone shuffled forward and placed their shadow game pieces into the large console that had risen up from the sand. There were only two empty slots. One for Tootles' shadow, and another one for Wendy's. Peter had spent an entire day fashioning and configuring the little wolf figurine that was Wendy's game piece.
"Disqualified for absence, player: Tootles," the voice declared. "Disqualified for absence, player: Wendy."
Peter looked all around and up at the sky, hoping that Wendy would appear, but she didn't. His hands began to shake. The tournament was the biggest event in Neverland, and he had never lost. But now there was something more important than the tournament. He grabbed his shadow out of the console, threw some pixie dust on his head and took off flying towards the sky arch. As he left the lagoon behind, he heard the programmed voice make its next announcement.
"Disqualified for absence, player: Peter."