Excerpt for Lost

by Eden Robins

Prologue

"I'm never growing up. Never, ever, ever."

"Yes y'will, Peter. Mama says everybody grows up, gets a job, then dies. That's life, she says."

"What do you know, Wendy? You're only seven. I'm ten, and I know a lot more than you. And your mama, well, she's just wrong. I don't have to grow up if I don't want to. And I don't want to."

Wendy stared solemnly up at him.

"Why not?"

Peter paused and his brow furrowed. He stared down at Wendy without speaking. She stepped closer and slid her hand into his.

"Why don't you want to grow up, Peter?"

Peter looked down at their clasped hands, then back at Wendy.

"Because grown ups are boring. They don't have any fun. And when things get too boring for them, they leave. And they don't care who they left behind."

Wendy gave his hand another squeeze. She stared at him with those serious big brown eyes that always looked kind of sad. Knowing just how to cheer her up, his gaze lit with mischief and a wide grin spread across his face.

"And you know how much I like to have fun, don't you?"

Peter grasped Wendy's other hand, and began turning around and around. She swung into the air, twirling around him. Her giggling filled the lazy summer afternoon day.

"I'm flying, Peter, I'm flying!"

"I told you I'd show you how to fly, Wendy."

22 years later

"I'm flying there, and that's that," Wendy declared, pacing the room.

"I don't understand your morbid need to go this funeral, darling. After all, it isn't even a relative. It's just a neighbor you barely remember from childhood."

The condescending tone of Jeffrey's voice suddenly grated against her nerves, but Wendy held fast to her decision.

"I'm not asking for your permission, Jeffrey. If you'd like to fly there with me, that's fine. If not I'll see you when I get back."

"You know I can't do that. I'm in the middle of a very important case. And what about our wedding plans? We're getting married in less than three months. There's so much to do. You said so yourself just yesterday. What will my mother do without your guidance? You know she has a tendency to take over."

Wendy knew first hand how Jeffrey's mother tried to rule the roost and everything else. The woman was like a crocodile, snapping at everyone, keeping them in line. If she could plan and run not only their wedding, but the rest of she and Jeffrey's life, she would do it. She had made sure her son became a lawyer, just like his father. Pleased that her son had met a woman she considered within their social circle, she now wanted to make sure his wedding was just the kind to impress her friends. Marion Hook tried to keep everything and everyone under her thumb.

Hook. Wendy Hook.

That was going to be her married name. She would have to get used to it. As corny as it was, she would have a hard time letting go of her last name, Thompson. Maybe if it was a different last name it would be easier. A last name like Johnson, Elliot... or Kelley.

Kelley?

Where had that come from? It had to be her old neighbor's funeral. Judith Kelley was dead. Her son, Peter, had been Wendy's childhood friend. His mother died from complications to her liver. That's what the obituary read, but everyone back home knew what had caused it. Judith Kelley had been an alcoholic. For as long as Wendy could remember, the woman had drank. Even as a child, she had known there was something different about Peter's mom.

First it was the way she smelled every time Wendy went to visit Peter at his house. Then it was her personality. She noticed early on that when that smell, which later she discovered was alcohol, was very strong, Mrs. Kelley would act differently. She would sing and dance around the house. Her laughter filled their home, and Peter's mother had hugs for every one.

When she wasn't drinking, she was quiet and sad. Sometimes Wendy visited Peter and his mother would answer the door with tears in her eyes. Other times she would be in her room crying, the sound of her sobs traveling through the walls of their home.

She remembered asking Peter about it once, but when she did, he got a hard look in his eyes, and told her to ignore it.

"My mother cries sometimes. That's just the way she is," he said with shrug. "She's unhappy that my dad left us, and she had to grow up. She tells me stories about when she was young and free. She says my grandparents have lots of money, so she was at parties almost every weekend. Having a kid changed all that, she says. And since she has to take care of me alone, she doesn't get to have fun anymore. That makes her cry."

"But, what about—"

"I don't want to talk about it, Wendy," he said as anger flared in his eyes. "You wouldn't understand. If you don't like it, stop coming over here. No one's making you. I don't know why you're always over here anyways. Don't you have any friends your own age? I'll be thirteen next month. You're only ten, just a baby. If you're going to come over here and whine, go home and don't come back."

Wendy had tried to fight back the tears. Her eyes had widened as his cruel words struck deep. She loved Peter. She had always loved him. Ever since he moved into their neighborhood when she was five, and taught her how to fly. He would twirl her around and around at the park and she would laugh from the joy of it until her stomach hurt. He would laugh too, and the sound always filled her heart with happiness.

She remembered standing there, silent and frozen, looking up at Peter as tears slid down her cheeks. Then he did something she would never forget. He knelt in front of her and gathered her in his arms.

"I'm sorry, Wendy. I didn't mean that. I like you hanging around with me. I just don't want to talk about my mom. We can talk about anything else, but not that. Okay?"

Peter pulled back slightly. Then he wiped the tears off of her cheeks. Putting his fingers under her chin, he gently tilted her head back so that she looked at him.

"Okay, little one?"

Wendy's lips trembled, but she managed to silently nod her head. Peter's mouth broke into a wide smile. His whole face lit up, and Wendy couldn't help smiling back.

She never asked him about his mother again.

"Wendy?" Jeffrey's voice interrupted her memories. "Did you hear what I just said? You have that far away look in your eyes again. Is everything okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine, Jeffrey. And don't worry about the wedding. I'll only be gone a few days, and back before you know it."

Wendy managed to book a flight through a small, fairly new airline company called Neverland Airways, which served locations from the west coast into the mid-west. It had gotten good write ups in the papers and had great on time service records during the two years it had been operating. Unfortunately, because she had booked so last minute, she would have to change planes before reaching her hometown, and the flight would take six hours instead of four.

During the first leg of the trip, Wendy thought about the man she was leaving behind. Jeffrey and she had met at a charity ball six months ago. He was handsome, charming, financially comfortable, and well respected by his peers. If he was sometimes a little demanding and selfish, she could forgive him that. As an only child, she knew he never had to share with or think much about others. And Wendy felt she could handle the situation with Jeffrey's mother. Growing up with two brothers, she had learned early on how to stand up for herself.

During her last visit home, her parents had expressed concern about her lack of prospective husbands. Her mother and father thought it was time she settled down. They were proud of the fact that she had become an attorney, but they still felt she needed a husband and children. In other words, they wanted her to grow up.

Wendy was enjoying her career and social life. On the weekends, she went out with a small group of friends, most of whom were men. She had been a tomboy growing up, liking pirates, playing sports, and going on wild adventures. Dolls and playing house weren't of interest to her. And as she got older she just tended to gravitate towards guy friends instead of girl friends. She enjoyed being feminine, pampering herself with manicures and pedicures, but she also liked watching and going to sports events, as well as playing in her company's intramural baseball team. But none of these things had kept her from marrying. She just hadn't met the right man yet.

Until Jeffrey.

The night they met, he had seemed like everything she should want in a man. So they started dating and she had come to care for him. Their shared interests and careers made them very compatible. She knew that she could comfortably spend the rest of her life with him. It would be a stable relationship that would allow her to continue with her career. And when and if children came into the picture, they were financially secure enough to hire a nanny.

Satisfied that her life was heading in the right direction, she relaxed and lost herself in the romantic suspense novel she had brought with her as the plane took her home. Wendy arrived in her connecting city on time and managed to catch her next flight without any glitches.

Her problems started after she got on the plane. It was a full flight, with overhead bins crammed to the limit, and bags that were supposed to be tucked under the seats sticking out into the aisle. Tripping a few times during her search, she finally managed to find a place to put her carry-on suitcase. Now to find her seat. Staring down at her ticket, she spotted the row and found it. Someone was sitting there.

A man slept with his head down, oblivious to the world. She scanned around her desperately, but could see no other empty seats. She checked her ticket one more time, then attempted to get a flight attendant's attention. Two were occupied with young mothers with babies and a third was listening attentively while an elderly lady loudly complained about her bag not fitting in the carry on compartments.

Seeing no other option, she laid her hand on the sleeping man's shoulder and gave it a light shake. Other than making a few grumbling noises, the man didn't stir. Biting her bottom lip in indecision, she debated on her next course of action. She could try to wake the guy up again, or she could look for another seat.

The pilot took the decision out of her hands. His announcement blared over the intercom.

"If you've just joined us, welcome to Neverland Airways. I'm Captain John Clark. We've been cleared for departure, so the sooner you take your seats, the sooner we can head out. If you haven't found your seat yet, please do so now and buckle up. Thank you."

Wendy gave the man's shoulder a second, firmer shake. This time he slowly lifted his head and rubbed his eyes. His blond hair stuck up in all different directions. She knew that was the latest style for men, but it reminded her of a little boy just waking from his slumber. Bending down toward his ear, she spoke softly.

"Excuse me. I'm sorry to wake you, but you're in my seat."

The man raised his face to look at her. The image of a little boy vanished. The intense, green, eyes staring up at her were all man. Wendy straightened abruptly and stepped back, trying to put some space between them. She bumped into a flight attendant who had finally come her way. Turning around, she apologized.

"Sorry about that. I didn't know you were behind me."

"It's fine," the tall, perfectly coiffed blonde said with a plastic smile that told Wendy it really wasn't fine. "You need to sit down, miss. We're preparing for take off."

"I know. This man is in my seat, and I was just trying to wake him."

The attendant turned to look at the man.

"Sir, would you mind checking your ticket? It seems we-uh, oh!"

The attendant stopped mid sentence, mouth hanging open, and stared wide eyed at the man.

"Oh, I'm so sorry sir, I didn't realize-"

"Don't worry about it miss, uh, miss?" The guy inquired with a charming smile as he rose to his feet. He was tall, over six feet. And his voice was low and rich. The sound of it tingled up and down Wendy's spine.

"Um, Bell, sir. My name's Bell," the attendant stumbled over her words. "It is such a pleasure to meet you."

"Thank you, Bell. It's nice to meet you also. Would you mind seeing if there are any other seats available?"

"Of course not," the woman said with a smile. This time, Wendy noticed, it was real, no plastic anywhere.

What was going on? The attendant was stammering and blushing like a schoolgirl. The guy was good looking, but this was ridiculous! She just wanted to sit down, so that they could be on their way.

"It's great that the two of you are getting acquainted and all, but I'd really like to sit down so our flight can leave," Wendy said, trying to slide passed the man, into her seat.

He didn't budge. Neither of them acted like they had heard a word she said.

"I'll go check and be right back. Please make yourself comfortable until then, sir." Miss Blond Schoolgirl made her way toward the front of the plane.

"Thank you, Bell," her seat snatcher said with a smile full of dimples. A girl could get to like seeing those dimples. But not Wendy. Dimples were out. Jeffrey was definitely a no dimple kind of guy.

Jeffrey was forgotten the minute the man turned and looked at her. The full brunt of his good looks hit her hard. Mr. Spiky Hair carried a punch that left her breathless. And his square jaw, strong nose and bright green eyes were somehow familiar to her. Maybe the guy was a model she had seen in a magazine or on TV? That would explain the flight attendant's actions.

"I'm sorry about the inconvenience. I caught this flight at the last minute, and just grabbed the first available seat." His voice ran over her like smooth honey.

Who had a voice like that? It made her think of things she shouldn't be thinking about in the middle of a plane packed with people. Candle light, soft music, and sex. She gave herself a mental shake. What was wrong with her?

"Didn't you have a seat assignment?" she blurted the first thing that came to mind.

"No, I didn't," the man said, looking at her curiously. His eyes lit with interest as he studied her face. "Have we met before?"

Wendy studied Mr. Dimples in turn. There was something familiar about him, but she just couldn't place it. Maybe it was his eyes. It was as if she had seen them before.

"I don't think so. My name's Wendy. Wendy Thompson," she said holding her hand out to him.

At the mention of her name, the man's face changed. The playful, easy going look changed to intense interest. His brow furrowed, and his dimples disappeared as his he studied her face. Ignoring her hand, he stared at each feature as if trying to memorize them. Though she was in a plane full of people, his hungry gaze was disconcerting enough that she lowered her hand and took an unconscious step back.

He stepped closer. And closer still. Until his face was only inches from hers.

"Have you learned how to fly yet, Wendy?"

© Copyright Eden Robins