‘linked’?”
“It seems she spent the night in his hotel room.”
Wendy snatched the papers from her friend’s hand and read the accounts for herself. (This was still a couple of years before the scandal between Edith and the pretty Vassar coed that would have dispelled any gossip about her and a member of the opposite sex.) After reading, Wendy was silent for a long time. When she finally looked at Maimie, her face was deliberately blank.
“Well, he’s found someone, at long last.” She smiled a pitiful smile. “Good for him.”
Her friend was not so accepting. “More like someone found him. For Heaven’s sake, she’s married! It’s nothing more than a tawdry affair.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Wendy folded up the papers.
“Of course it does! You could still go after him. The Lusitania leaves tomorrow for—”
“No, Maimie!” Now it was Wendy’s turn to be firm. “It doesn’t matter because I have decided to face the facts and move on. Peter is not coming back. He has made a new life for himself and I have to do the same.”
Later that day James called upon her, flowers in hand, for his weekly visit. For the first time since Peter’s departure, Wendy did not refuse him.
That night, as Wendy slept, a boy dressed in leaves flew into her room. She awoke to find him seated at the foot of her bed. Although he was unknown to her, he was at the same time familiar.
“Boy, what do you want?” she asked.
“For you.” He held out his hand and she took his offering. It was an acorn button.
She took his gift and placed it on a small silver chain, which she fashioned around her neck. “Thank you.”
The boy grasped her hand and began to draw her toward the open window.
“Come away, Wendy.”
How she longed to go with him. Somehow, she knew he could take her to a place where all her adult heartbreak would melt away and vanish like spun sugar. The boy released his grip and glided out the window. Floating in the air, he turned in a graceful loop and looked at her expectantly, a dimpled smile lighting his face.
“Come away, Wendy.”
Perched on the windowsill, arms stretched outward, she murmured, “I can’t. I can’t fly.”
“I’ll teach you,” the boy said hovering in front of her.
His outstretched hand was just beyond her reach, so Wendy strained forward to grasp it. Struggling to maintain her balance, she wildly flailed her arms. The boy disappeared before her eyes and Wendy began to fall toward the darkened garden far below. With all her strength she hurled herself backwards. For a moment she was suspended mid-air as her feet flew out from under her, then she landed on her bedroom floor with a jarring thud.
Disoriented, Wendy sat in stunned silence trying to figure out if she was awake or dreaming. She settled the matter by giving herself a strong pinch on her forearm, which hurt rather a lot but left no doubt that she was awake.
She stood uncertainly and went to the open window. The cloudless night, illuminated by a harvest moon, revealed many twinkling stars but no flying boy. She did not know whether she was relieved or disappointed that he was just another figment of her dreams. And yet…
She turned and walked slowly to her dressing table. Opening its drawer she pulled out her neglected keepsake box. Inside were her thimbles, including the mysterious porcelain half. Gently pushing them aside she pulled out a tarnished silver chain. Attached to the end was a faded acorn button.
Although she had had the necklace since she was a child, she could not recall where it had come from. She pulled the acorn out of the box and examined it in the moonlight. It had a jagged hole in the center as if something had pierced it violently. Running her finger across it, she wondered what had made the hole and why it didn’t go all the way through.
Clasping the chain around her neck, the acorn fell against her breast. She placed her hand over it. Surely, it was a good luck charm—a
“It seems she spent the night in his hotel room.”
Wendy snatched the papers from her friend’s hand and read the accounts for herself. (This was still a couple of years before the scandal between Edith and the pretty Vassar coed that would have dispelled any gossip about her and a member of the opposite sex.) After reading, Wendy was silent for a long time. When she finally looked at Maimie, her face was deliberately blank.
“Well, he’s found someone, at long last.” She smiled a pitiful smile. “Good for him.”
Her friend was not so accepting. “More like someone found him. For Heaven’s sake, she’s married! It’s nothing more than a tawdry affair.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Wendy folded up the papers.
“Of course it does! You could still go after him. The Lusitania leaves tomorrow for—”
“No, Maimie!” Now it was Wendy’s turn to be firm. “It doesn’t matter because I have decided to face the facts and move on. Peter is not coming back. He has made a new life for himself and I have to do the same.”
Later that day James called upon her, flowers in hand, for his weekly visit. For the first time since Peter’s departure, Wendy did not refuse him.
That night, as Wendy slept, a boy dressed in leaves flew into her room. She awoke to find him seated at the foot of her bed. Although he was unknown to her, he was at the same time familiar.
“Boy, what do you want?” she asked.
“For you.” He held out his hand and she took his offering. It was an acorn button.
She took his gift and placed it on a small silver chain, which she fashioned around her neck. “Thank you.”
The boy grasped her hand and began to draw her toward the open window.
“Come away, Wendy.”
How she longed to go with him. Somehow, she knew he could take her to a place where all her adult heartbreak would melt away and vanish like spun sugar. The boy released his grip and glided out the window. Floating in the air, he turned in a graceful loop and looked at her expectantly, a dimpled smile lighting his face.
“Come away, Wendy.”
Perched on the windowsill, arms stretched outward, she murmured, “I can’t. I can’t fly.”
“I’ll teach you,” the boy said hovering in front of her.
His outstretched hand was just beyond her reach, so Wendy strained forward to grasp it. Struggling to maintain her balance, she wildly flailed her arms. The boy disappeared before her eyes and Wendy began to fall toward the darkened garden far below. With all her strength she hurled herself backwards. For a moment she was suspended mid-air as her feet flew out from under her, then she landed on her bedroom floor with a jarring thud.
Disoriented, Wendy sat in stunned silence trying to figure out if she was awake or dreaming. She settled the matter by giving herself a strong pinch on her forearm, which hurt rather a lot but left no doubt that she was awake.
She stood uncertainly and went to the open window. The cloudless night, illuminated by a harvest moon, revealed many twinkling stars but no flying boy. She did not know whether she was relieved or disappointed that he was just another figment of her dreams. And yet…
She turned and walked slowly to her dressing table. Opening its drawer she pulled out her neglected keepsake box. Inside were her thimbles, including the mysterious porcelain half. Gently pushing them aside she pulled out a tarnished silver chain. Attached to the end was a faded acorn button.
Although she had had the necklace since she was a child, she could not recall where it had come from. She pulled the acorn out of the box and examined it in the moonlight. It had a jagged hole in the center as if something had pierced it violently. Running her finger across it, she wondered what had made the hole and why it didn’t go all the way through.
Clasping the chain around her neck, the acorn fell against her breast. She placed her hand over it. Surely, it was a good luck charm—a
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