Darling - K. Ancrum Page 0,8

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.”

“My window is broken, and people are hopping our fence. Are you sure this is a ‘good neighborhood’?” Wendy asked sarcastically, parroting Mrs. Darling from earlier.

“Oh, our property tax practically guarantees it,” Mr. Darling replied. “But this house was empty for a while before it was rehabbed and went on the market. “Maybe people are just surprised to find that now it’s occupied.”

“Okay, great,” Wendy said. “Maybe instead of staying here alone when you and Mom go to your work party tomorrow night, I could go and sleep over at Eleanor’s house that has two whole parents in it.”

“You’re pushing it, Wendy,” Mr. Darling said.

“I don’t even— They’re literally at church right now,” Wendy muttered. “They go to Friday church, for fuck’s sake.”

“One last chance,” Mr. Darling warned.

Wendy exploded. “But what if the guy who tried to break in comes back? Is it really that much worse for me to be with people you don’t know than be in an unsupervised house with no alarm system, broken windows, and a burglar Nana barely foiled?!”

“That’s it!” Mrs. Darling shouted. “Upstairs, now! You’re grounded for a week, and don’t you dare think of leaving that room until next Friday!”

Wendy stared at her parents in horror and outrage, but she didn’t say another word. Instead she marched upstairs and gently closed her door.

CHAPTER 3

Wendy didn’t have many fights with her parents, so she always felt dark and ugly whenever she did. She’d known her mother’s nerves were frayed and that her father was probably rattled from the break-in, but this safety protocol was an objective reality that she simply didn’t agree upon. Mr. Darling was