A crisp autumn wind tugs at Jane’s hair and swirls fallen leaves around her feet. A particularly bright leaf, all gold and flame, detaches itself from a branch just as she passes underneath it, and the chubby boy at her hip reaches after it as it drifts past her head. Jane smiles. Despite the breeze, the sun is warm and the sky achingly blue—a perfect day.
She nudges open the shop with her hip and the bell overhead jangles. The space behind the counter is empty, but a moment later, her mother’s head appears from behind a dress form in the corner with a look of surprise.
“Jane!” Her mother pulls pins from her mouth, tucking them into a pocket as she comes forward, and Jane can’t help laughing at her distracted air.
“You didn’t forget about supper, did you?”
“No, of course not. I only lost track of time.” Her mother gestures back toward the dress, half pinned, on the form behind her.
“Timmy, aren’t you going to say hello to your nana?” Jane turns her hip with her son toward her mother, bouncing him slightly.
Timothy grins, then buries his face against her neck in mock shyness before peeking at her mother and giggling. Jane ruffles his blond curls, causing him to squirm in her arms.
“You can set him down if you like.” Her mother gestures around the shop. “There’s nothing he can hurt here, and nothing that can hurt him. Everything is tucked away.”
Her mother pats her pockets, and Jane gratefully lowers Timothy to the ground. It never ceases to amaze her how the boy seems to grow every time she takes her eye off him for even a second.
“I honestly don’t know how you manage it all.” Her mother sounds genuinely admiring, and Jane can’t help another smile.
“Pure luck. Ethan sees most of his patients in the morning, and I see most of mine in the afternoon, so it all works out. And Simon is awfully good about coming around to help out whenever he can.”
When Jane looks up, the pride in her mother’s eyes catches her off guard and she has to look away for a moment. The light coming through the shop window throws the shadow of the curling letters painted there onto the floor at Jane’s feet—Darlings. She toes the shadow, smiling.
“Have you decided?” Her mother’s tone is carefully neutral, trying to keep safe footing in a conversation they’ve had before.
It’s not precisely an argument, but tension laces the air every time the question arises—will she and Ethan stay in London another year, or will they go? This time, instead of a defensive response leaping to her tongue, Jane finds a strange ache as she straightens her shoulders.
“We’re staying in London.” Her mother’s eyes brighten, but Jane hurries on. “But we do still mean to travel, when Timmy’s just a bit older. There are so many places in the world where Ethan and I can do some good. The earthquake in Tibet, the war in Korea. Doctors are always needed, and I want to see the world.” Jane feels the restless weight of it all as she says the words.
She thinks of the globe in her childhood bedroom. Thinks of where she’s been and all the places she hasn’t seen yet. She’d promised her uncle years ago that she wouldn’t go to war, and she’d kept her word then, but all over the world is hurting and she longs to do something about it.
“You can do good here too.”
“I know. We are. And we will again.” Jane offers her mother a smile she hopes she’ll understand. “We’re not leaving England for good. We’ll always come back. I wouldn’t let you miss this one growing up entirely.” Jane nudges Timothy, who looks up with a wide grin, the sunlight catching his curls and making them shine.
“My daughter, the world traveler and the hero.” Her mother steps closer, lifting a lock of Jane’s hair absently and smoothing it as she flicks it behind Jane’s shoulder. “I always knew you would do great things.”
The ache is there again and for a moment, Jane’s throat is too thick to answer. She’s used to arguments from her mother, contradictory ways, but this is almost too much to bear. She steps around her mother and son both, closer to the dress form, for somewhere to look until she’s certain her eyes won’t betray her with tears. She promised herself once that she would always look ahead, not back at might-have-beens or what-ifs. She’s seen the dangers of living solely in the past, and she’s ready for the next adventure, her and Ethan both, helping people, like she always wanted to do.
Jane plucks at the hem of her mother’s dress in progress, running the fabric through her fingers.
“Pockets?” she asks over her shoulder, though she already knows the answer.
“Always.” Her mother joins her, close but not quite touching. “I thought it would look quite nice on you, actually.”
Jane startles, half turning. Lines crinkle at the corners of her mother’s eyes. Her hair, gathered in braids wound around her head, is almost all gray now, but strands of copper still peek through. No matter how much time passes, there’s something ageless about her mother, as if time draws close and then falls still again, waiting for Wendy Darling’s say so to move on.
Jane looks back to the dress, a color like periwinkles and the summer sky. It’s not the sort of thing she would normally wear and yet looking at it, she can picture herself at a party, dancing with Ethan, and a smile touches her lips.
“It’s lovely.” Jane’s voice trembles slightly, then she gestures toward the door. “Should we go?”
“Let me get my coat.” Her mother disappears into the back and Jane lifts Timothy onto her hip again. His weight is sweet and sleepy against her now, and he rests his head on her shoulder.
More than just stopping time, her mother seems to have turned it back now, the sun catching in the threads of copper in her hair so they blaze and overwhelm the gray. But brighter still is her coat, blood and poppies, flaring at the hem where it falls at the perfect length, fitted to her mother’s shoulders, her body, her height, no matter how any of them may change over the years. Rich and brand new, though Jane knows that in truth the coat may be more than a century old.
“You still have it.”
Her mother’s eyes sparkle with mischief as she loops her arm through Jane’s and leads her to the shop door.
“Only for special occasions,” she says.
Her mother locks the door behind them before regaining Jane’s arm—a pirate, a queen, a wild creature out of a story at her side. Together, they step out into the bright autumn day.