Neverland

Wendy stared at the spreadsheet on her monitor, then glanced at the clock in the bottom corner of the screen. 10:28 AM. It felt like she’d already been at work for hours, but in reality, she had only started just over an hour ago. Outside, rain sputtered against the window, and a clap of thunder startled her. She ran her fingers through her dark curls, she’d cut four inches off over the weekend, hoping the now shoulder-length style would make her feel more alive. It hadn’t. Her hair wasn’t the problem. Everything else was.

She’d worked for the same insurance company since graduating college over ten years ago. It was just another Monday. Another week of client reports, mortgage payments, and the exhausting task of juggling two kids while intimacy with John slipped further away. She couldn’t remember the last time they made love without it feeling like a scheduled obligation.

The office door banged open, separating her from her thoughts.

“I’m dying. Actually dying.” Natalie Tinkerman collapsed into the chair opposite Wendy’s desk, her platinum bob swinging with the movement. “Growing up is a scam, Wendy. The biggest lie we ever believed. Every Monday I die a little more.”

Wendy minimized her spreadsheet, stifling a laugh. Natalie, or Tink as her friends called her, was always a bit overdramatic. “Rough weekend?”

“God-tier weekend.” Tink stretched, the movement emphasizing her figure beneath the snug v-neck shirt. Wendy rarely noticed other women that way, but she couldn’t help but marvel at how someone as petite as Tink carried such a... generous figure. She wondered if the strain ever bothered her, it had to be exhausting on her back.

“This,” Tink said, pulling out her phone and passing it to Wendy. “This is how I wish I could remain forever.” On the tiny screen was a picture of Tink. Her smile wide and bright. She was flanked by two men who looked like they could be models. She seemed to be at a party, or maybe a rave. It was hard to tell given the lighting. In the background, people seemed to be in various states of undress around an infinity pool, nothing too scandalous but enough to make Wendy’s body start to tingle. The one thing that was obvious in the picture however was the white powder around the three of their noses.

“Oh my God, Tink. Is that coc-”

“Fairy-dust,” she said with a laugh, her head spinning to ensure no one else had heard the exchange. She snatched her phone back from Wendy. “I was flying, Wendy. Literally flying all weekend. And now I’m back here doing...” she thrashed her arms around in dramatic fashion, “this.” She crossed her arms and spun around in her chair. “Anyway. enough about me. Did you do anything exciting this weekend?”

Wendy’s weekend flashed through her mind: Emma’s soccer game, Sam’s science project, John falling asleep during the movie they’d been planning to watch all week.

“We took the kids to that new pizza place,” she offered, doing her best to make it sound more exciting than it really was.

“Thrilling,” Tink said, barely paying attention as she dabbed lip gloss onto her face.

Heat crept up Wendy’s neck. “The garlic knots were exceptional.”

“I’m sure they were.” Tink agreed thumbing through photos on her phone.

Wendy shifted in her seat, admiring the wild adventure her friend seemed to be reliving. “Where is that place?”

“You’ve heard of Peter Pannell, right? The guy who made that photo filter app, Stay Young?”

Wendy pulled out her phone and quickly opened the app. “Of course, Emma loves playing with it. Look, here she is as a princess.”

A laugh crept out of Tink’s lips. It was a cute picture. The little girl with light blue eyes, looked like a carbon cutout of her mother. The filter on the app however transformed her into a princess in another galaxy. She had a long, flowing pink dress, a diamond crown on her head, and a wand that looked like magical sparks were shooting out of the top of it. The image really did look life-like, as if Wendy somehow took a picture of a real-life princess.

“Well, I’ve known Peter since high-school, and we’ve... stayed in touch.”

“You... you’re friends with a billionaire?”

“He hates it when people call him that. He’s always just been a giant kid at heart.” Tink gave another giggle. “Anyway, every weekend Pete throws these extravagant parties at his Neverland estate.”

“He does... that, every weekend?” The storm picked up again outside, drowning out the other voices from around the office. Wendy and Tink had been friends for years, how was she just now finding out she was friends with Peter Pannell?

“Oh, I’m sure he does it a lot more frequently than that. Those are just the parties I can actually get to. After he sold his company Peter basically retired. Said the corporate life wasn’t for him. He’s been partying ever since. He never had to grow up.”

Wendy’s gaze drifted to the family photo on her desk. She’d been twenty-four when Emma was born. Ten years of field trips, fundraisers, and falling into bed too exhausted for anything but sleep.

“Must be nice,” she murmured.

“It is.” Tink leaned forward. “Peter has this theory that most people surrender to adulthood because they think they have to, not because they want to. If you want, I bet I can get you and John on the invite list.”

Before Wendy could answer the project manager’s call light blinked on Wendy’s phone. Reality, summoning her back.

“I should get this.”

“Think about it,” Tink said, turning back in her chair. “When was the last time the two of you actually had an adventure? You deserve to be young again, even just for a weekend.”

The rest of the workday continued without so much as a laugh. John had texted and said he was stuck in a work meeting and someone needed to get Emma from practice after work. Her inbox showed she had twenty-seven new messages, all marked as urgent. The weight of the world felt like it was crashing down on Wendy with every passing second, and it was only Monday.

***

The sound of the door closing woke Wendy up from her spot on the sofa. She blinked her eyes, trying to get them to focus as John slipped through the front door. The clock on the wall read 9:17PM, nearly two hours after his last text saying he was heading home “soon.”

Wendy sat up, stretching her arms over her head. She grabbed the half-empty glass of wine from the coffee table and walked into the kitchen, twisting her neck to help with the stiffness from falling asleep on the worn-out couch.

“Sorry I’m so late,” John whispered, loosening his tie. “The Baker account imploded at the last minute.”

Wendy rubbed her neck, watching as he moved to the kitchen, lifted the lid off the pot on the stove, and grimaced at the congealed sauce. This had been their routine for months now. He would get home late to her asleep on the couch, his dinner cold and uneaten in the kitchen.

“Kids go down okay?” John asked, microwaving a plate of pasta before leaning against the counter and turning to his wife.

“Emma finished her science project. Sam has a math test tomorrow he’s worried about.” Wendy stretched, the hem of her emerald green nightgown, her favorite color, sliding up and revealing her smooth, flat stomach in the process. John didn’t even notice. “Sam asked if you could do bedtime tomorrow. They miss you... I miss you.”

John’s head dipped carrying the weight of his guilt. “I know, I’m sorry. It’s our biggest client. If things go well then I could get a raise and we could finally get our head above water.”

“The kids don’t care about a raise, John. They want to see their dad.” Wendy crossed the kitchen to him, the cool tile floor making her flex her toes as she rested her head on his chest.

The microwave beeped, and with a frustrated breath she straightened her body and moved back to the living room. John carried his plate with him, sinking into the couch next to her.

“I stopped by the liquor store,” he said, nodding toward a bag on the counter. “Got that Cabernet you like.”

“I talked to Tink today,” Wendy said, watching his face. “She invited us to a party this weekend.”

John chewed slowly. “What kind of party?”

“At Peter Pannell’s estate. The Peter Pannell.”

John’s fork paused processing the information. “The app guy?”

“Think what it could mean if you landed him as a client.” She placed her hand on his leg and felt him tense before relaxing again. “They’d not only have to give you a raise but a promotion.”

“Since when are you friends with billionaires?” John’s voice held a note of suspicion, or maybe it was excitement as Wendy’s hand inched up his thigh.

“Tink knows him from high school. She goes to his parties all the time.” Her fingertips grazed his manhood making him suck in air. “I need this,” she whispered. He was unsure if she was talking about the party or... something else.

John set his fork down and turned to face his wife. “Those kinds of parties have a reputation, Wendy.”

“What kinds of parties?” She bit her lip and held his gaze. Her touch was becoming bolder, now openly stroking the outline of his rising excitement.

John tried to control his breathing as he stared at Wendy. His gaze traveling to the open neckline of her nightgown pleased to see she wasn’t wearing a bra. “The kind where...” He lost his train of thought for a moment as Wendy leaned forward and pressed her lips to his neck, her fingers working the snap of his pants. “Where bad decisions are made.”

John’s breath caught as Wendy slipped her hand inside his pants, her touch warm inviting, yet somehow urgent in a way it hadn’t been for months.

“Maybe I want to be bad,” she giggled against his ear before he turned his head and pulled her into a passionate kiss.

They stayed like that for several minutes. Wendy’s hand not moving inside his pants, just holding him, wanting him. Their tongues slid against one another, the sound of their labored breathing and smacking lips the only noise in the house.

Wendy felt like she was back in high school. All the worries of the kids, their jobs, their finances, melted away as they made out on the living room couch. She broke the kiss with a tender nibble on his bottom lip, her hand starting to move in the exact way she knew he loved.

“I’m serious,” he continued, his voice strained. “These parties, they’re not just about networking. People like Pannell they live differently...”

Wendy’s manicured nails scratched gently over his sac as she pumped him, leaving him breathless. She watched with a smile as his eyes fluttered shut giving in to her touch. “Different how? More excitement? More passion? I could go for a bit more of that. Couldn’t you?”

John’s hips moved involuntarily, his body responding as Wendy’s hand picked up its pace. “It’s not about that,” he gasped. “It’s about consequences. We have responsibilities. Kids. A mortgage.”

“And we’ll still have them on Sunday.” Wendy’s voice was soft but insistent as she increased pressure. Her thumb swirled around the mushroom-shaped head, smearing his leaking juices in her palm. “But for one night, just one, couldn’t we remember what it feels like to be young again?”

John’s thoughts scattered as the sensation built. His hands found Wendy’s waist, slipping beneath her nightgown to feel her skin. Her breast fit perfectly in his hand; not too big, not too small, as he used to muse when they were younger. They’d grown slightly since the kids, but they always felt just right to him. She pressed her forehead against his, watching his face as she felt him twitch under her touch. He was close; she could sense it.

“Yes,” he conceded breathlessly, the word escaping before he could reconsider. “One night.”

Triumph sparkled in Wendy’s eyes. Her movements quickened as John’s body tensed. He buried his face in her neck kissing her neck as his hips jerked and Wendy felt the warmth of his excitement on her hand.

She continued to stroke him through his climax, but as his breathing slowed, she felt a twinge of frustration. The encounter had ended before it truly began for her, leaving a steady throb between her thighs she would have to take care of herself. She moved to the kitchen to wash her hands, feeling the complex mixture of victory and dissatisfaction.

John adjusted his clothing, his body sprawled out on the couch as he tried to catch his breath. “That was...”

“Exciting? Yes.” Wendy returned with a small smile. “I’ll arrange a sitter and tell Tink to count us in.”

John studied her, sensing the shift in her mood. “One night?” he asked, seeking reassurance.

“Just one,” she promised, feeling a dangerous thrill at having won. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

***

“Ugh, we should have gone shopping,” Wendy protested from inside the walk-in closet. “I don’t have anything to we-”

The complaint died on her lips as she eyed the midnight blue dress in the back of her closet. She’d bought it almost four years ago when she thought she was going on a girls trip to Vegas. However, that trip was canceled due to COVID and the dress still had the tags on it. She’d forgotten all about it, hid it away in the back of her closet never to be seen again.

Until tonight.

The silk material felt cool on her skin as she slipped it over her head. It felt weightless, freeing. She looked at herself in the mirror, turning from one side to the other. The neckline revealed a swell of cleavage she hadn’t dared to show since having Emma. The push-up bra lifted her breasts just enough to make them impossible to ignore, full... inviting. Her fingers brushed the small diamond pendant John had given her on their sixth anniversary. The stone rested perfectly between the soft rise of her chest, glinting in the low light.

She turned to the side again. The hemline for the dress stopped about mid-thigh, exposing far more leg than she was used to. Not that she was complaining. She’d spent the better part of an hour shaving, moisturizing, and applying self-tanner. She was glad to have something to show for it. She looked... sexy. She smiled at herself in the mirror. She couldn’t remember the last time she looked like this. She felt a warmth begin to bloom in her core, the excitement of the evening already beginning to take hold.

“Wow,” John said from the doorway, his eyes widening. “You look... wow.”

Wendy turned, one eyebrow raised. “You like it?”

“I’m worried to let you out of my sight.” John swallowed, his eyes traveling the length of her. “You’re going to turn every head in the building.”

She smiled, a ripple of satisfaction warming her. “That’s the point.”

John himself looked different tonight. He wore a black suit that made him look like a slightly more watered-down version of James Bond. A thin silver watch, her anniversary gift from years ago, glinted at his wrist. He’d even styled his hair differently, using product to create a tousled look that softened his usual corporate appearance.

“You cleaned up nice yourself,” she said, applying her lipstick in the mirror. “Almost forgot how handsome my husband is when he tries.”

Wendy’s phone chimed on the vanity.

“Oh,” was all she managed to say as she looked at the picture on the screen.

“What is it?”

“Tink sent a message,” Wendy said with a laugh as she rolled her eyes.

“What’s it say?”

Wendy didn’t respond, instead she turned her phone allowing John to read the message himself.

Don’t you DARE show up in something boring or I’ll literally die of embarrassment! NO MOM CLOTHES!!!!!!!

“Well I for one like your mom...” John lost his train of thought as another message came through.

Wendy watched John’s face in the mirror. He was staring at the image a bit longer than she would have liked, causing a flush to creep up her neck. “John?” She turned her phone back so she could see what had him suddenly so distracted.

This message was a picture of Tink in a shimmering green mini-dress that barely contained her chest. It had cutouts along the sides that stretched from her ribcage all the way up, displaying ample amounts of side-boob. Her platinum hair was thrown up in a high bun in the back with what looked to be glitter sparkling in her hair.

Did John find Tink attractive? She was hot, there was certainly no denying that, but Wendy had never considered John looking at anyone else like that. She expected it to make her uncomfortable. Instead, she felt the heat from earlier swell out to the rest of her body and cause her to shift in her seat.

“She looks... festive,” Wendy offered, watching his reaction.

John cleared his throat feeling like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar. “I’ve looked up some of these parties online. They’re insane, Wendy. The stuff that happens there-”

“It’s just a party.” She turned in her chair, adjusting his collar.

“But it’s so much more than that,” he insisted. “These tech bros live in a different reality. I saw photos of his last event. There were dispensers at the door filled with drugs, people barely dressed...”

“It’s no different than college, I’m sure.” Wendy applied a final coat of mascara. “We did some pretty crazy stuff back then, remember?”

“That was a decade ago. Before we had kids. Now we have-”

“Responsibilities. Yes, I’m aware.” Wendy’s tone cooled. “We’re going to a party, John, not abandoning our children. Try to have a good time... For me.”

She kissed his cheek, her lipstick coloring his skin. Another text came from Tink and Wendy read it aloud: “OMG Pete is literally DYING to meet you both! He’s been asking about you all day.”

“He seems... eager.”

“Playing the jealous husband already?” She said with a laugh.

Before he could answer, the doorbell rang. John checked his watch. “That’s the sitter.”

Jenna, the babysitter, was nineteen and beautiful in that way that required no makeup or styling. She walked in wearing ripped jeans and an oversized sweater, her long brown hair cascading down her back.

“The kids are already asleep,” Wendy explained, suddenly conscious of how hard she’d worked to achieve what came naturally to Jenna. “Emergency numbers are on the fridge, and we should be back by...”

“Midnight?” John interjected.

Wendy shot him a look. “We’ll text if we’re going to be later.”

“No worries, Mrs. D. Take your time.” Jenna flopped onto the couch, already pulling out her phone. “You two look amazing, by the way. Hot date?”

“Just a work thing,” John answered quickly.

“A party, actually,” Wendy added, enjoying the way Jenna’s eyes widened.

“OMG, that’s so cool! You guys still know how to party?”

The genuine surprise in her voice made both of them feel simultaneously flattered and ancient.

Outside, John opened Wendy’s door as she slid into their old Chrysler Town and Country. The black van was over a decade old, but thanks to John’s meticulous care, it still ran like new. As he settled into the driver’s seat, a flicker of self-consciousness crept in. He could already picture the sleek, expensive cars that would line the driveway. For a moment, he considered renting something flashier. But with their budget stretched thin, it hardly seemed worth it for just one night.

“Ready?” John asked, reaching over and taking Wendy’s hand in his.

“As I’ll ever be.”

John glanced at her, then away, his fingers fidgeting with his wedding band. “One night,” he reminded her, putting the car in drive.

“One night,” she agreed, catching her reflection in the sideview mirror. She couldn’t help but smile at how good she looked. Tonight she wasn’t Emma’s mom, or even Mrs. Darling. Tonight she was Wendy. Tonight she was young again.

***

“We must have taken a wrong turn,” John muttered, peering through the windshield at the unfamiliar landscape. “Are you sure she gave you the right address?” They’d left the city over half an hour ago, replaced by winding roads that cut through dense trees. John had considered turning around more than once already, but every time he did he’d look at his wife and see the smile on her face, the excitement in her eyes. He couldn’t remember the last time she looked like that. And that dress. Good Lord, that dress. He couldn’t wait to get her home and get her out of it.

Wendy checked her phone again. “Tink says it’s just ahead. Second star-shaped gate on the right, then straight on Morning Street.”

“Who names a street Morning?” John shook his head. The rich did the weirdest stuff sometimes.

John saw the gate before the sign, but just as Tink had promised, as soon as they were through it, and on Morning Street a house, or rather a palace, snuck into view. They drove for another five minutes before approaching another gate. This one sitting next to an intercom.

An intercom crackled to life as they approached. “Names?”

“Uh... John and Wendy Darling,” John answered, suddenly feeling like they were entering a military compound rather than a party.

Silence stretched for several seconds before the gates began to part. “Welcome to Neverland,” the disembodied voice said. “Drive safe.”

The driveway twisted like a serpent. John drove slow, only able to catch glimpses of the estate while he maneuvered the winding path. The closer they got, the less the building looked like a house and the more it looked like a palace. The entire second floor looked to be one giant pane of glass. Wendy could see people inside. All laughing and enjoying life. They drove across a small bridge, and she noticed the water encircling the house, like a moat surrounding a fortress. For the briefest second, she thought she saw a crocodile in the water, but when she did a double take it seemed to disappear.

“My God,” she whispered, leaning forward in her seat. “It’s incredible.”

John said nothing, too busy processing the collection of vehicles they now approached. A valet area had been established, where young men in emerald green vests directed arriving guests. The vehicles themselves told a story: Lamborghinis, Ferraris, a Bugatti, even a Rolls Royce Phantom. Millions of dollars in automotive craftsmanship lined up like toys.

“I should have gotten the car washed,” John muttered as he pulled their family minivan into the designated spot.

Wendy squeezed his hand. “Nobody cares about the car.”

But John noted how the valet’s eyes briefly registered their vehicle. “Welcome to Neverland, sir, madam.”

As they walked toward the entrance, the bass of music pulsed through the ground beneath their feet. Illuminated stepping stones led to massive glass doors that parted automatically as they approached. On either side of them were life-like statues of Peter carved from stone. One was him with a small dagger like he was about to fight. The other, was of him reading a book, a look of pure joy on his face.

“The duality of man,” said a voice from in front of them causing both John and Wendy to turn quickly.

And there he stood.

Peter Pannell in his perfectly tailored emerald green suit, which seemed to enhance the unnatural vibrancy of his eyes, the same impossible green. He couldn’t have been older than thirty. The first several buttons on his silk shirt were unbuttoned showing off the chest of a man who worked out at least twice a day. He hid a diamond stud earring in his right ear that looked like it was worth more than John’s entire yearly salary. His dark hair had been tussled giving the look of a man who pretended not to care at all about his appearance, despite his wardrobe suggesting otherwise. But most bizarre of all, he wasn’t wearing shoes. It was perhaps the strangest thing Wendy had ever seen in her life, yet she couldn’t help but be captivated by him.

Those eyes found Wendy immediately, sweeping over her with unhurried appreciation that made butterflies flutter in her stomach.

“They say all children grow up,” he declared, throwing his arms wide and pulling them both into a hug like they were long lost friends. “Absolute nonsense! Why grow up when growing wild is so much more delicious? Adults call it maturity. I call it surrender.”

His voice had an unusual cadence that made John feel dizzy. He wanted to ask about the statues but forgot all about them as he pulled away from the bear hug.

Wendy felt a rush of heat climb her neck as Peter extended his hand to John, his arm still looped around Wendy in a half hug that made her skin feel warm. “John Darling, the calculator of risks! Tink tells me you put price tags on disasters that haven’t happened yet. Magnificent profession, speculating on shadows!”

John’s shoulders straightened. “I... assess financial exposure. It’s a bit more...”

“More boring than how I described it?” Peter laughed, his arm falling away from Wendy. “Probably. Most things are.” His attention shifted fully to Wendy, taking her hand not to shake it but to lift it slightly, kissing her knuckles like something from the 18th century. “And Wendy Darling. The missing constellation in our little galaxy. Tink’s stories didn’t do you justice.”

He made no effort to hide the fact that he was looking her over. Wendy felt her cheeks flush as she shared a confused look with John who, to his credit, was biting his tongue as another man ogled his wife. She smiled softly at John, as if to say thank you. Although she couldn’t help but noticed his gaze also seemed to be on the swell of her chest.

“Welcome to my humble escape from reality,” Peter said, breaking the spell and gesturing grandly to the space around them. He led them to a vintage gumball machine just inside the doors, except instead of gumballs, it contained pills in various colors.

“Happiness dispensary?” he offered, patting the glass dome affectionately. “Blue ones make the music taste better. Pink ones make your skin electric. Green ones, well, those are my personal favorite. They make the whole world sparkle like it did when we were seven.”

John’s expression tightened into an “I told you so” look directed at Wendy.

She laughed, the sound of it flirtier than she meant. “Maybe later. We should probably start with drinks.”

“Wise woman! The night is an orchestra my dear, you don’t start with the crescendo.” Peter’s eyes never left Wendy as he addressed them both. “Besides, Tink would never forgive me if I spirited you away before she gets to show you off. She’s been dancing around the house all night singing your praises.”

He placed his hand lightly on the small of Wendy’s back, guiding them deeper into the house. The touch was brief, professional, yet Wendy felt it like a brand through the thin material of her dress. John noticed too, his stride lengthening slightly to close the gap between them.

Inside the house, everything seemed even further from reality. There had to be at least 200 people in the one room they were in. Their heads all tilted to the sky. Wendy looked up and her mouth went slack. Flying at least 20 feet above them were skilled acrobats who looked like they belonged in Cirque du Soleil. They were in various states of undress, dancing and flipping through the air without a care in the world.

“The bar is this way,” Peter continued, breaking her concentration as he pointed toward a glowing countertop. “Ask for Lorenzo’s concoctions. He makes drinks that taste like memories you never knew you had. Fair warning though, in Neverland, we don’t measure pours. Time is the only thing we waste around here.”

As they continued to walk, Wendy caught glimpses of rooms beyond. There was a pool area where the water seemed to glow. A lounge with sunken seating arranged around a fire where a group of people stood telling stories. And other hallways leading to unknown wings of the house. Wendy had never seen this level of extravagance before. She suddenly realized why Tink hated coming to work on Mondays.

“Don’t worry,” Peter murmured near Wendy’s ear, noticing her wide-eyed assessment. “The night is an endless taffy pull. It stretches exactly as long as the most interesting person needs it to. And you, Wendy Darling, strike me as very, very interesting.” He leaned in closer, ensuring John, who seemed to be walking toward a room cast in total darkness, couldn’t hear. “And I bet you stretch just as well too.”

Fire shot through Wendy’s body at the same time that a shiver ran down her spine. She bit her lower lip her head turning to Peter, mesmerized by those perfect green eyes. Before she had time to respond, John was back at her side. “What’s in that room?” he asked wondering how and why they kept it so dark.

“All in due time, John.” Peter gestured towards the bar. Behind it, through the massive windows, they could see the twinkle of city lights beneath them. The real world suddenly seemed very far away.