Page 7 of Darling

Mrs. Darling shook her head. “I don’t know, Wendy; we didn’t even know them. We’d only met them that night at the roller rink. We never saw any of those boys again.”

“Oh.”

Mrs. Darling sighed. “Our stop is next, so get ready to carry.”

Nana woofed softly and sniffed at the cage door, then settled primly with her giant head on her paws, waiting for Wendy and Mrs. Darling to pick her up.

Wendy watched the back of her mother’s head as they carried Nana down the stairs and out of the train station. She couldn’t imagine her mother being fourteen at all, much less a part of the chaotic story she’d just heard. But it was rare that Mrs. Darling lied to her. The entire concept of her mother being defenseless and running in the night filled her with dread.

As soon as they made it out of the train station, they put Nana’s crate on the ground and opened its little door. Nana shook herself all over and walked delicately out of the kennel. The Saint Bernard looked back at Wendy—who was struggling to pick up the giant kennel in her thin arms—as if to say, You could try being more dignified, and waited patiently for Mrs. Darling to attach her leash.

The walk back to their new house was quiet and tense.

Wendy could tell Mrs. Darling was lost in thought and not quite in the mood to talk anymore, so she trailed unhappily behind her in silence.

When they reached the front door, Mr. Darling threw it open before Mrs. Darling even managed to get her key in the lock. “I see the duchess has come to grace our home with her presence!” He hurled himself to his knees before Nana, who sprung up with delight and lavished his face with slobber. “How have you been, you old girl?”

“I see you’re home early. Well, she was as poised as ever on the train, decadent being carried in her kennel, and lovely as we strolled down the block,” Wendy said, dumping the kennel in the front hallway.

“Of course she was! Of course she was!” Mr. Darling cooed. “Let’s get Nana some lunch.”

“And us some lunch?” Mrs. Darling asked, hanging up Nana’s leash on the hook by the front door.

“There’s pizza on the counter.” Mr. Darling practically carried the ecstatic Nana to the kitchen and poured her a bowl of dog food.

“So you unpacked the dog supplies, but not the pots and pans,” Mrs. Darling said, sitting down at the table and opening up a box.

“Only the best for Nana,” Mr. Darling replied chipperly. “So how was the ride over?”

“Nice,” Wendy interjected before Mrs. Darling could say anything. “Mom showed me how the train system works, and we made it past the front kiosk without any issues because Nana was so well-behaved.”

“That’s good to hear.” Mr. Darling leaned over and kissed Mrs. Darling on the top of her head. “And for you, my love, I did do the pots, pans, silverware, plates, and cleaning supplies. We’ll leave the rest for the movers, but for now, my best ladies won’t have to eat off paper and plastic.”

Mrs. Darling covered his hand with hers. “You want to take some pizza up to your room? You can if you want,” she said to Wendy.

Wendy leaped at the chance. She snatched a plate from the cabinet, grabbed a few slices, and scampered up the stairs.

Her window had cracked itself open yet again, and the wind had blown on one of the books so violently that its cover was thrown wide and the pages were fluttering. Wendy pulled the book back, slammed the window down again, and shoved the stack closer to the window, pinning it shut. Then she flopped down on her bed and pulled out her phone.

Eleanor was getting ready for church and probably couldn’t talk, so Wendy decided to look up some places for them to visit when she was finally free to travel around on her own.

Eleanor loved museums, so they’d have to hit those first, starting with the Art Institute of Chicago and working their way backward toward the Field Museum and Adler Planetarium, ending with the Shedd Aquarium, which would probably be Wendy’s favorite. Then they could get lunch and head to a bookstore or something. There were a couple of local ones not too far from downtown that seemed promising. Wendy knew that Eleanor preferred comic book shops to bookstores, but Wendy had left a decent amount of books back in the suburbs, and her collection was looking a bit thin.

She was about to begin working on a decent itinerary for next week when she heard Nana barking, louder and angrier than she had in a while. Wendy froze, listening.

When Mr. Darling’s shouting began to accompany Nana’s barks, Wendy jumped up from her bed and flew down the stairs, nearly colliding with Mrs. Darling.

“What’s happening?” she asked.

“Nana caught someone trying to hop over the back fence in the yard,” Mrs. Darling said. “She scared him off, but I think she might have bitten him and torn some of his clothes.”

“She got a piece of his jacket!” Mr. Darling crowed triumphantly, holding up a scrap.

Wendy eyed the dusty gray denim sleeve in her father’s hands warily.

“Do you think this will become a regular occurrence?” Mrs. Darling asked, concerned. “Maybe we should get an alarm system…”

“We should definitely get an alarm system,” Mr. Darling agreed. “But for now, Nana’s all we’ve got, and she’s doing a wonderful job.”