Chapter 2
“Order up!”
The last fairy in line hovered over to the counter, already licking her lips in anticipation.
Spiky blue hair shot up in all directions on top of her head, with shimmering aquamarine wings fluttering behind her to match.
Out of all the fairies that had come to Maggie’s restaurant, this one was far more excited than the rest.
“I’ve been waiting all day for this,” the fairy squealed as she eagerly took the basket from Maggie’s outstretched hands.
The lunch special flew off the counter faster than Maggie could prepare it.
Summery grilled sandwiches with salty and fried chips on the side was all it took to get the inhabitants of Neverland excited.
Thick and buttery slices of bread were charred on her indoor grill until they had a dark pattern on top, and filled to the brim with sharp cheese, savory meat, and bitter greens.
What Maggie thought to have been not the greatest crowd-pleaser brought almost every living soul on Neverland to her restaurant’s front doors.
While the lunch special fed all those mouths, plenty of regulars that shopped at her counter every day arrived for their normal treats.
Some collected loaves of freshly baked bread to keep on hand at home, while others snatched up their sweet dessert for the day.
Throughout it all, Maggie lost track of the time, only paying attention to the rows of smiling faces in front of her.
The business was roaring, and while that might’ve seemed like a tiring day to most, it was the only place that Maggie wished to be.
“Well, I can only hope that it is worth the wait,” Maggie replied.
The fairy already devoured half the sandwich, and was moments away from scarfing down the rest. “You bet it was!” She sighed with delight. “My only wish is to experience it all over again.” Every crumb had been picked up by the girl’s fingers. “Well, there’s always tomorrow!”
With a blur of sparkle and color, the fairy flew from the restaurant as the last few stragglers filed out at the same time.
Plates were scattered across the picnic-style tables, empty cups and mugs once filled to the brim with freshly brewed coffee left alongside them.
To Maggie, the mess might’ve been the best compliment she had ever received.
Not a soul in Neverland dared to even leave a crumb on their plates.
They loved her food so much that everything given to them was devoured. Devoured, savoured, and remembered.
Maggie leaned against the counter as Neverland continued to bustle along outside the front doors.
Wide glass windows allowed Maggie to get a glimpse of the path that led to the energetic town whenever she pleased, but that wasn’t even the best part.
Natural light shone through every orifice, no matter where the sun was resting in the sky.
The Lost Boys made sure to equip the back with just as much light as the front.
No matter where she was, there was light and the pretty outside to see.
“Well,” Maggie breathed after a few moments of silence. “Onto the next thing!”
She dragged a hand across her glistening forehead before tucking back into the warm kitchen.
The work she did was as tiring as any other job, but she couldn’t imagine trading it in for anything else.
The bottom of her feet ached by the time the lunch rush came to an end, and her pale apron always finished with a splattering of different colored stains.
But, despite it all, none of the cleaning was left to her.
Every chore she dreaded no longer pulled her away from doing what mattered the most: spreading love through good food.
With a round tray resting against her hip, Maggie weaved and curved through the kitchen, collecting all the leftovers from the lunch menu.
By the time she was finished, the platter held plenty of bits and pieces.
There was the last handful of crispy chips, freshened up with a sprinkle of salt, alongside the remnants of the grilled sandwiches.
The best crunchy bits of the crust were compiled in one corner – specially saved for a little fellow who preferred them.
Maggie set the tray down beside a shadowy corner, where a small hole that was no bigger than her palm sat as the entrance for the brownies’ home.
The delightful creatures weren’t one for talking, but their appreciation was as loud as can be.
The tray looked only to be speckled with the last pieces of everything on Maggie’s menu, but she knew it was something much more to the brownies.
In return, they would sweep through the kitchen and restaurant swiftly, cleaning up any mess they crossed.
Everything was left spotless, including the tray that carried all their food.
Maggie never failed to leave a platter at their doorstep after every lunch rush.
Fulfillment came in many different ways, and though Maggie never expected feeding brownies to be one of them, she couldn’t imagine doing anything else.
Maggie’s routine continued as she lined up rows of rising dough on the island countertop.
Beside them, where the opened window pulled in a gentle, cool sea breeze, she laid out the cooling fruit pies, their sweet scents making her stomach growl.
The work was quiet and peaceful, giving Maggie a few moments to calm her racing thoughts, to reconnect with what she loved, to gather the love to do it all over again.
“Save any cookies for me, Magpie?”
“Eek!”
The last tray with a decadent pair of chocolate tarts flew high above Maggie’s head. She jumped a foot in the air, landing back on the ground with a startled hand pressed to the center of her chest. Maggie whipped around.
Peter Pan stretched his arms out at the last second, catching the tray and the pies with sharp reflexes. The pies clicked together in their glass pans before coming to a quiet stillness in Peter’s hands. He leaned forward, eyes fluttering shut as he took a big, greedy whiff.
“Nevermind the cookies,” Peter breathed, eyes opening with a sort of daze. “I’ll take both of these!”
“Nevermind the –” Maggie repeated, her breath short. She shot him a glare before snatching the tray out of his hands. The priceless pies slid to one side, hitching the breath in the back of her throat, before they steadied once more, and the crisis was soundly averted for a second time.
Maggie threw him another pointed look over her shoulder as she walked the pies back to the counter. “You scared the living daylights out of me, Peter!” She frowned, though the amusement of the situation was beginning to hit her. “You’ll be lucky just to get some crumbs.”
Peter grinned, his hands charmingly tucked into his front trouser pockets. “I was only excited to see you, Magpie.” He pressed into the kitchen further, using her momentarily surprised silence to continue. “I hope you’ve had a good day so far.”
“Well, I –” Maggie paused, her eyes catching onto him. When was the last time someone cared about my day?
“What?” Peter leaned against the counter, careful not to poke a hole in the dough. “How was your day?”
She smiled and felt her shoulders fall as the tension drifted away. “Perfect, actually,” Maggie replied. “It was a busy one, maybe the busiest since I’ve been here, but it hardly changed a thing. In fact, I might prefer it when it’s busy.”
Peter raised a brow and his smile grew to match her own. “Really?”
“Of course!” Maggie began to pace around the kitchen, the excitement in her words trickling into her fidgeting.
“Can you imagine all the people I manage to see in one day? I thought I knew, but I’ve been underestimating myself this entire time.
I mean, I know that Trudi Butterfield comes in three times a day to get the first pick on every fresh batch of cinnamon rolls I make.
Each time. She’s got it down by this point! ”
Peter was laughing sweetly. “So whenever you bring out the new batch –”
“Trudi’s first in line!” Maggie couldn’t wipe the smile from her face, and she wasn’t entirely sure that she wanted to. “And there’s Darwin Fletcher, of course.”
“The hermit?”
Maggie raised a brow. “You know him?”
“‘Course I do,” he replied with a boyish shrug. “I’m the King of Neverland.”
She rolled her eyes and waved dismissively, though the corner of her lip couldn’t help but perk upwards.
“Anywho, he lives in the jungle, apparently. Starts the trek every morning to reach the restaurant by lunch to try the special. He never knows what it is and doesn’t bother to read the sign. Just orders it right away.”
Peter watched her with a growing smile. He leaned forward, his slightly pointed chin resting on the center of his palm.
Though his posture was lazy or tired, Peter’s were entirely transfixed on her.
There was no doubt that he paid attention, that he clung to every word, that he reacted to every sentence.
“Why are you smiling like that?” Maggie asked in a quiet voice.
He beamed but wasn’t quick to reply.
A slurry of thoughts rushed through her head.
Suddenly she was aware of how much she was talking, at how long she kept the attention focused on her.
Surely Peter had come for a reason, and she looked downright selfish with the spotlight clinging to her.
Heat rushed to her face as she looked away, the embarrassment deepening when his low, throaty chuckle filled the quiet kitchen.
“Oh, I-I know it,” Maggie murmured. “I’ve just talked your ear off, haven’t I?” She shook her head. “I-I’m really sorry, Peter. I know you probably need something, and I’ve kept you as far away from it as possible. Talking about my day and just –”
Peter rose from his position, taking one long stride to break the distance between them.
He loomed over her without an ounce of intimidation, bright eyes twinkling.
“Maggie,” he said, the lack of a nickname startling her so much her breath hitched.
“I could listen to you talk all day, if you want the truth. And I asked about your day, you know. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want to know. ”
She stared up at him through her lashes, entirely dizzy from his words.
They all clung to her as he backed away, looking around at the island counter as if he was window shopping.
It was so intimate and so casual in the same breath, knocking her off her feet before placing her back on the ground again.
To know she was wanted, in whatever way that meant, was far more than she ever had before.
“What are the rest of your plans for the day, Magpie?”
Jolted back into reality, Maggie turned to face him, smacking his hand away the moment he got too close to the chocolate tarts. “We have plans, remember?”
Peter pouted and the downturned frown made the ageless man look like a youthful teen. “What plans?”
“The water is being blocked off from reaching the Everything Plant, remember?” Maggie reached behind her to untie her apron and hang it on a hook beside the back kitchen door.
“We need to see what’s going on with the mermaids.
The only thing to get the Everything Plant to grow and produce berries again is to fix the water.
” She eyed him when he remained still at the island counter, his head tilted away. “You remember, don’t you, Peter?”
He didn’t move, his expression unreadable from where she stood. “What does that mean, then?” he asked. “Are you still leaving –” the words stopped in his throat. “Leaving Neverland?”
Maggie watched the side of his face. Even though she found it impossible to say the words while looking him in the eyes, Maggie wanted nothing more than to see his face at that very moment.
“Y-Yes, Peter,” she murmured. “That’s the plan.
” She wished to take back the words the moment she dared to whisper them, but Maggie knew that she couldn’t.
Peter remained frighteningly still for a minute.
Maggie stepped forward then paused, trapped in her own subconscious.
It was something she had done, something she had said, to have driven him into such a state.
Why would he want her any closer? Maggie held herself back, arms wrapped across her torso in a poor attempt to comfort herself.
It was then, after a tense silence had overtaken the kitchen, that Peter drew in a long breath.
“Alright, Magpie.” He twirled around on his heel, lips pressed together in a placid smile.
Though he sounded more like himself, everything was stiff and rigid.
He walked closer, lingering in front of her, before reaching the back door.
He pulled it open for her. “We’ll go see the mermaids together. ”
Maggie followed him out of the restaurant.
Everything about him was as it should’ve been, but she couldn’t help but recognize the sharp divide that was beginning to grow between them.
She had always said she would return to the human world, right from day one.
And even then, Peter agreed. Though she felt herself growing an unmistakable attachment to everything Neverland offered, Maggie always planned on sticking through.
Her dream lied elsewhere.
Her life lied elsewhere.
Her accomplishments lied…lied…
Peter reached for her hand without asking for it.
Soft and delicate touches sent electric pulses up her arm.
He merely touched, at first, before entirely clasping onto her hand, fingers intertwining until it felt just right.
A warmth spread from the center of their hands, traveling up Maggie’s arm until a shudder involuntarily ran down her back.
It was how he had always led the way before, simply showing her the way forward, with a familiar touch.
Suddenly, it did not feel anything like simple.