The Neverlake

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『Mrs Dalloway』に強い感銘を受けて勢いで書いたものです。
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Wendy rotated her car key.

Dashboard warning light is still on.
Does everyone actually check their engine seeing this? thought Wendy Maira, reaching out to her old handbag; that should be sitting on the passenger seat. Nope, it is not here.

“Danny! Danny, baby. Can you get me my wallet? I think it is on the kitchen table!”

Wendy rolled down her car window, calling out. Someone is not happy, she thought to herself, looking into her rearview mirror.

“You always left it on the table, mom”

Danny hands Wendy her wallet, in an abrupt manner.

“If your dad asks, tell him I’m off to the groceries store” said Wendy, tucking her wallet in without looking at Danny.

“Why won’t you tell him yourself? He is upstairs”

“Upstairs in his study. He is still working. Don’t give me that look, the groceries are for your dinner, too”

“Yeah right”

For all the dirty nappies and sleepless nights, does it not tormenting us parent enough, that God decided to create puberty before they turned 20?

Wendy hesitated if she ought to remind her son of his attitude, and proceed to neglect the thought.

She gently waves her son goodbye, and hits the gas pedal.

Skimmed milk is better for our health (It was not scientifically proven, but Wendy is certain that fat is bad for human’s body).

What a shame Danny only drink whole-fat milk, Wendy thought, tapping her finger on the driving wheels, humming to old country songs (She doesn’t remember the lyrics).
Does Danny know that whole-fat milk cost more? Maybe I should make him work part-time.

“Oh, the gas station!” exclaimed Wendy, startled, she made a turn.

Filling her petrol, Wendy stops for a few times, peeping into her tank. It is best half full. That is what she heard from Jack, her co-workers.

It is an old publish company, with just three employees.
The know-it-all Jack is not a trustworthy source of information, but somehow Wendy felt the need to keep her tank half full, just in case.

I can’t afford another car! She cried in her mind. We still have mortgage to pay. Now whose idea it was to buy that house. Edward’s income alone can’t afford it. Wendy wanted Danny to go to the local high school. Any house in that neighborhood would have made it happen, but it has to be a house with a nice garden. Edward was stubborn on the subject.

What good a garden is for if you don’t have time to plant anything! Wendy sighed; looking into the mirror, she pursed her lip in displease. Augh! These loathsome age spots. The concealer isn’t doing its job!

“Wendy!”
cried the elderly man coming out of the convenient store.
He swiftly walks toward her.

For a moment Wendy couldn’t recalls his name. For their last meeting was such a long time ago. The mole under his left chin is the only hint for Wendy to recognize him.

“Peter, Peter Pent!” Wendy exclaimed; strokes her hair unconsciously; turned to have a quick check of her looks. Thanks god it is my good hair day, she thought, feeling somewhat relieved without any certain reason.

“What a surprised to see you here! How long has it been?” said Peter; ten years, oh no, twenty? The number has slipped his mind.

Catching up with casual conversation, Wendy learnt that Peter just came back from Iraq.

I thought you wanted to be a businessman, asked Wendy, in a taunting way.

“Turns out I’m more capable firing gun, than firing people” Peter laughs, putting his thumb into his pocket.

He still does this when he is nervous, thought Wendy; white T-shirt and jeans; the same vigorous energy; upper body is bigger, with his stiff-looking muscles. Without those wrinkles on the corner of his eyes, it would look as if he hasn’t aged a year!

Maybe a cup of coffee? He asked. Wendy delightedly nodded.
It was high school; everything was vivid and fun. It still feels like a dream that she used to date Peter. He was on the football team, and I was a bookworm, for god’s sake! Wendy giggle; feeling utterly absurd, shy, and funny at the same time.

“One Americano, one latte, with skim milk. Thank you”

“You still remember!”

“I do” Peter grin, thinking to himself; Her hair lost it gloss, she looks older, but she still has it; her sweet voice. What a shame it didn’t work out for us then.

Peter had a glance at Wendy’s ring finger. I wonder whose she’s married to, he thought; maybe it is somebody I know?

Wendy has a graceful looks in her teen, slender, and fragilely gentle; which attracted Peter at first sight. She was not the type you bring to crazy parties, but for a few months, peter enjoyed her company.

All the nerdy conversation at the park and dating in library was okay, but Peter wanted something more adventurous; something more “perky”.

Why did I break her heart? Peter wondered; sipping on his coffee, I was stupid.

Reminiscing dulled memories, the conversation is lively. The coffee tasted good. The joke, the laugher, the way Peter gazed into Wendy’s eyes. Both of their heart was pounding, cheeks flush. They haven’t felt this excitement in them for a long time, longer than they both could remember.

Do you want another coffee? Peter asked. Sure, why not? The coffee here is a little expensive, but it doesn’t matter. The price didn’t bother Wendy. She was carefree. It felt like high school once more.

“You still fold your napkin” Peter said; pointing at a used napkin on the table; “You always do that”

“Yeah, I know. It is weird”

“No, no. I think it’s cute. I mean, everything you do is cute. No, ‘You’ are cute” Peter corrected.

“Oh, that’s too much!” Wendy laughed, very awkwardly, but very joyfully.

“I know it’s too late now but, I should have asked you to the prom, Wendy”

Yes, you should have! thought Wendy, you chose another girl over me. I was devastated!

A sudden anger overcame her for a single second but quickly went away. Perhaps because she felt no need to cling on to old grief, or perhaps it was the ecstasy she felt from hearing that he regrated his decision.

“You were a captain after all, and I was just a nerdy girl.” said Wendy with a soft laugh.

“No, I was just young, and too stupid to appreciate you.”

Peter was in a lot of relationship, but it never lasted. Maybe Wendy was the one, he thought, we could start with something frank. It doesn’t has to be serious.

“You remember,” Peter said, “I promised to take you to the lake. The lake where your favorite poet went to died”

The lake. The neverlake (Wendy named it after their break up).

“You never, though”

“I wish I had”

Wendy noticed Peter is still staring at her; a little agitated, but so serious, so strong, so straight forward. The emotion is pouring in like heavy rain; flows through his eyes into hers.

“Do you still want to go now, Wendy?”

It might just be a simple question, but Wendy instantly has a hunch.
Is it possible? She thought, playing with her wedding ring under the table. A sudden embarrassment taken her aback.

Oh no, she roused. No, no, no. It is not possible! I’m happily married. Happily, happily…, am I? Wendy tries to remember the last time she had a romantic dinner with her husband. Edward is too busy writing his new book.

They haven’t talked for a whole week. All the daily chores, thinking about what milk to buy, trying to make ends meet, Wendy muttered in her head. Can I call this happiness?

Wendy puts her hand on the table; a doubtful emotion rose, fluttered inside her.

“The lake” Wendy said; voice trembled, “It is not far away from here”
“Yeah,” Peter brightens up. “We can go there now. I mean, right now. Just you and me. If you want”

Peter looks as charming as always. Wendy paused for a moment, thinking to herself. Of course, he is. He was always charming.

“I have to go, Peter”

“You have to go?”

Peter stood up. A connection they shared for a brief moment faded away. “To the lake?” He couldn’t just give up.

“No,” Wendy laughed, grabbed her handbag, pulled out her wallet. Her handbag is old and saggy, but practical.

“I was on my way to the grocery store, Peter”

“Grocery store? Maybe I can go with you there”

“No, no! It’s fine” Wendy places her coffee bills on the table.

The lake, the neverlake, Wendy thought to herself, it is something that ought to be remember in memories. Sweet sour memories.

“My son is waiting for dinner, Peter. He is easily irritated lately, you know, puberty”

Wendy giggled, and started her car.
Her engine check light was still on.