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"Darling," Celia called down the hallway. "Have you heard of the new production at the Duke of York’s Theatre? Margaret Dawlish said she took little Teddy to it, and they both loved it." She was sitting near the cozy hearth in the library, quietly packing away the Christmas goodies. Jessica was already awake, but Anthony was still tucked up cozily in his little attic paradise.
"Oh yes, I believe I saw something in the papers about it. Peter something-or-other." He popped into the room, giving her his best grin, the one that stole her heart the first time she’d seen him. "Are you thinking we should take the children to go see it?"
"I was so subtle about it, wasn’t I?" Celia replied as she lifted her head automatically for the expected kiss on the cheek. It was second nature now for her beloved Donald to give her a light peck on the cheek whenever he passed her, and it never failed to make her heart skip. “Poor little Anthony will be so devastated to see all the Christmas things go; I just thought this might cheer him up."
"I suppose I could run down to the box office to grab some tickets for today. We don’t have any meetings with any buyers, do we?" He picked up a few boxes of wrapped ornaments to be placed in the basement.
"No, we are completely free to spend today as a family." Their eyes met; these were the best kinds of days. The kind they dreamed of. She knew they couldn’t last. The days of her sweet little boy needing cheering up after all the pretty shiny baubles went away would be gone before she knew it, so she wanted to hold on to them while they lasted. "Would you stop by Arif’s place for some doughnuts too? Jessica does love them so."
"Of course, my love." He strode back over to her to give her another kiss on the cheek, but she grabbed his chin instead. She pressed her lips to his, allowing herself to linger in the warmth. They broke apart, and she pressed one more little kiss to the corner of his mouth.
"Hurry back; it is awfully cold out. And watch your step, the roads are ever so icy these days. I saw an accident on Euston Road the other day. Terrible business." She released his chin and allowed him to stand.
He smiled again, bringing his hand up to caress her jaw. "I will always be careful, my love."
Just then they heard the tell-tale pounding of little feet that signaled that their hyperactive seven-year-old was awake. Donald looked at her with a mock grimace at the prospect of entertaining the little devil and grabbed his overcoat from the chair he’d thrown it on. He waltzed quickly out of the room just as Anthony burst in.
"Morning Dad!" His big brown eyes were wide with excitement, and his face flushed from running all the way down the stairs. His hair was a rat’s nest from sleep, and he still wore his little stripey pajamas. She noted with sadness that they were getting a little short for him. He began speaking with scarcely a breath, allowing the words to spill out in a flood. "Mummy, I had a dream that a ghost was haunting our neighbors' back garden, and they needed me to come and fight it, so I took my sword, and I was swishing this way and that—wait, where are the decorations going?"
His little face was instantly crestfallen; his arms, which had been gesticulating wildly while he told of his dream, fell to his sides in defeat. Her heart broke seeing his devastation. She grabbed him and pulled him into her arms. He grumbled a little at this, believing he was too old for a cuddle from his mummy. She knew her Anthony though; he loved hugs, and always had. His feet didn’t touch the ground until he was nearly three; he needed to be held constantly. If anyone dared set him down he would let out the most heartbreaking little wail. As predicted he didn’t complain for long as he quickly scrambled onto her lap.
"Christmas is over, my darling; it’s time for the decorations to go back to the basement," His head bowed in sadness; the sight was so cute she nearly giggled. She was filled with a mixture of sadness at seeing his distress, and amusement at his dramatics. "However, your father just went down to the theatre to pick up tickets to a new play: 'Peter Pan; or, the Boy Who Wouldn't Grow Up.'"
He certainly perked up at that information; brown eyes alight with interest. "What is it about?"
"I’m not sure, but I heard Margaret and Teddy say it has crocodiles."
His mouth fell into a perfect O. "Crocodiles?"
"And Indians."
"Indians?!"
"And pirates ."
"Pirates?! Like with swords?!" He was practically bouncing with excitement. He was grinning so hard she was worried his face would crack. Celia so loved his smile; it was Donald’s smile, copied perfectly onto Anthony’s little face.
"Yes, now go upstairs and tell your sister to start getting ready; you need to work on your lessons before we go to the performance tonight." He jumped up and ran out of the room. She winced as she heard something crash in the front entry. She knew she would have to get up to assess the damage Anthony had left in his excitement, but she couldn’t bring herself to get up from her seat. Celia just sat in the moment, her love for her family so great that she felt like her heart would burst from it.
**************
"Anthony sure loved the pirates, didn’t he?" Donald said as Celia unlocked the front door. The unconscious form of the boy in question was held in Donald’s arms; his head tucked into the side of his father’s neck. Anthony’s little arms swung limply by his side, and his mouth hung open slightly, his face completely relaxed. She could watch him sleep for hours. He had the most gorgeous long black lashes, and his deep even breaths betrayed just how deeply he rested. He had been so excited all day, and then had been completely enraptured by the play. Once the curtain fell he had fallen asleep almost instantly. Jessica had let him rest against her shoulder the whole ride home. They fought like cats most of the time, but she knew they both had quite the soft spot for each other. More than once she’d caught Anthony picking flowers for Jessie on his walk home from his fencing classes.
"He is going to be a nightmare about this play for the rest of eternity, I hope you know this." Jessica sassed. She tossed her long brown curls over her shoulder as she walked in. Celia couldn’t help but laugh; she was right. Anthony would surely break several valuable knick-knacks in the weeks to come in his efforts to fly like Peter Pan.
"Did you enjoy the show, Jessie?" Celia inquired, taking her coat off.
"I thought it was well done, if not a little juvenile for my tastes." She sniffed. She smirked at her daughter’s feigned indifference. Jessica had been just as enthralled as the rest of them. Celia had watched her clapping her hands enthusiastically when Peter had turned to the audience and pleaded with them to help Tinkerbell.
However, Jessica was beginning to grow into a young woman, and in so doing believed that she needed to grow out of her childish things. Celia wasn’t quite ready to give her daughter away in marriage quite yet, though. She planned to keep her for a couple more years before she and Donald began sussing out a proper gentleman for their daughter.
"Next time we will be certain to go see something more refined, your majesty." Celia replied with a mock-curtsy. Jessica rolled her eyes.
"I want to see a love story." She said as she began the walk to her room. "This one didn’t have a very good romance."
"Oh, dreaming of a grand romance, are we? Well, we will be sure to keep that in mind." Jessica blushed slightly but continued up the stairs.
Celia turned to the sitting room where Donald had placed the drowsy Anthony on the footstool, and began removing his cap and coat. The poor lamb was practically swaying where he sat, eyes drooping.
"Hello, my Peter Pan, are you ready to go to bed, sweetheart?" She whispered to him as she unwound the scarf from around his neck. He simply nodded.
"Do you need me to carry you?" Donald asked. Anthony simply held his arms up in response. Donald chuckled. This didn’t happen very often anymore, but they both cherished it when it did. Anthony wrapped his little arms around Donald’s neck as he was scooped up. He immediately snuggled in, placing his head where it had rested only moments before.
They made their way upstairs, stopping to get his teeth brushed, and changed into his pajamas before they tucked him into his warm bed. Anthony was a bit more awake now, but Celia knew that he would be dreaming of Never Never Land as soon as his eyes closed.
"Mummy?" He whispered as she turned to leave. He was looking up at her with a worried expression. She moved to sit next to him, and began threading her fingers through his dark hair.
"What is it, my darling?"
"I don’t want to be Peter Pan." He said, voice wobbling a bit.
She was shocked; she was sure that he would be transfixed with the character. He had been on the edge of his seat the whole play, his smile brighter than any of the stage lights. "Why ever not? You would get your lost boys; you would get to play with pirates all day, and you would get your Wendy. Doesn’t that sound lovely?"
He nodded. "Yes, I’d like that, but Peter doesn’t have a Mummy and Daddy. I don’t want to be without my family."
Celia’s eyes filled with tears. How was it possible that she grew to love him more and more each day? She couldn’t resist gathering him in her arms. It was a testament to how tired he was that he went with no complaints, snuggling into her readily. She rocked him like he was just a tiny thing once again. "You listen to me, Anthony Lockwood. You will always have us. If we are far away, or even if we go to heaven. We will always be with you." She whispered into his hair, placing a fierce kiss on his forehead.
"You promise?" He asked, his little voice muffled in their embrace.
"I swear it. So you can have your Wendy, your Lost Boys, your Pirates, and your adventures, and you will still have us." As she held him in the silence that followed, she felt him begin to relax as he fell back to sleep. She allowed herself to embrace him a moment longer, squeezing him tightly. She let go with a sigh. "Alright. It’s time for bed, my love. Lay down."
He did so, getting comfortable under his covers. She placed one more kiss on his forehead, brushing his fringe out of his face.
"I love you, my sweet Anthony."
"I love you too, Mummy." He whispered, eyes already drooping in sleep.
She peeked in as she closed the door behind her. He was fast asleep, off to Never Never Land.