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Anne peered down at the bundle in her arms, her eyelids heavy but unable to safely close.
“I had hoped he wouldn’t get my coloring,” Anne said absently, lightly brushing the damp curl of orange atop the baby’s head. The newborn had decided to rest, and Anne wished she could follow, but her brain couldn’t settle. Not yet.
Across the back room of the Charlottetown doctor’s office, Gilbert moved a bundle of soiled linens to a basket and then shifted back to the sink to scrub his hands.
“You were wanting something different?” Gilbert found himself asking, using a clean rag to dry his hands as he turned back to face the woman.
Anne didn’t answer. She kept her eyes on the baby, now a reality instead of just a dreaded far-away point in time.
Gilbert’s jaw clenched as he tried to consider their current circumstances. Delivering babies was not new to him, but he now had to wonder why this particular situation had not occurred before during his time under Doctor Ward.
“I must advise you to get some rest. That was a rather quick delivery, in my experience, but you will need your sleep,” Gilbert said, looking up from his hands to see that the woman, Anne she had said, was silently looking at him. He hesitated then tried to continue. “I… I can’t say I’m familiar… with, um, your place of work. When I… met you outside, leaving—”
“Thrown out.”
“Sorry?”
“I was being thrown out,” Anne said succinctly, without raising her voice.
“Oh. I, well I was not sure what I happened upon,” Gilbert hedged, slightly unnerved by the lack of emotions on this woman’s face as she watched him flounder. “Your… line of work… I would recommend, before returning—”
“I won’t be.”
“Excuse me?”
“I won’t be returning. I was let go.”
Gilbert blinked and couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Is that the typical way of dealing with… the repercussions…”
Anne let out a deep breath through her nose. “I worked in the kitchen, Doctor. But whether my employment was upstairs or downstairs, no one has room for women like me, or babies like this. I am grateful for your generosity and charity, in allowing me into your practice and helping me in my time of need—”
“Doctor Ward’s practice.”
“Pardon?”
“This is Doctor Ward’s practice. I am his apprentice. I have finished my schooling,” Gilbert added quickly at the hint of horror on her face, “but I am not fully a doctor, just yet.”
“Are you even qualified—”
“I assure you, I am,” Gilbert said calmly, his eyes darting to the baby as it shifted in his blankets. “This is not my first delivery. However, I will call for Doctor Ward at his home, to have him check on you and the baby.”
“Does only your Doctor Ward have the authority to accept and refuse patients?” Anne asked, looking wary.
“Well, I wouldn’t turn anyone away, not if they needed my assistance,” Gilbert said with a frown.
“Mr—”
“Blythe. Gilbert Blythe.”
“Mr. Blythe, do you have the authority to accept… atypical patients, in this part of Charlottetown? I do not know your history, but would I be remiss in assuming your lack of experience in dealing with patients of certain backgrounds?” Anne asked, feeling and looking so very tired, physically and emotionally. The bundle in her arms felt so heavy.
“Your work in the kitchens—”
“Does not mean I am any more welcome to cross most thresholds in town. Not as I was and surely not as I am now,” Anne said, throat tight.
“Mrs—”
“Miss,” Anne sighed. “Miss Shirley.”
“I did not mean to assume—”
“I assumed you were a doctor, you assumed me married…”
“I’m not not a doctor,” Gilbert said, a little defensively, but admittedly that was not the point. “I did— Once you informed me that you weren’t a—”
“Not a brothel worker, but still susceptible to mistakes,” Anne said wryly, head slumping onto her pillow. “If things seem too good to be true, Mr. Blythe, well, for certain people… they always are.”
“As a patient—”
“If your Doctor must come, will I still be allowed the night?” Anne asked, her eyes blinking slower and slower.
“Of course, Miss Shirley,” Gilbert said softly, realizing he was out of his depth and peering further into a world he had only glimpses of. He had aspired to become a doctor so he could help those that needed it, but did he fully understand the ways in which those that needed it most were denied even acknowledgments of their existence?
Anne felt the weight in her arms shift and she flinched awake, a gasp torn from her lungs.
“You’re alright,” Gilbert whispered, pausing to allow her to blink her eyes into focus on her baby before he continued to lift him from her arms, twisting to place him in the cradle right beside her. “Please rest.”
“It is always on your off days,” Doctor Ward chuckled pleasantly to Gilbert later that evening. “But I know you were in good hands here, Mrs. Shirley.”
“I believe it,” Anne said, smiling politely towards the doctor and appearing less bleak, her words less blunt than before when it had only been Gilbert in the room.
Gilbert watched, wondering what kind of practice Anne had in what appeared to be put-on airs of some kind. He opened his mouth to correct Doctor Ward as he began to write but did not get a chance.
“I expect the little one is going to take after you? Unless Mr. Shirley was also a redhead. Is he to pick you up?” Doctor Ward asked before his eyes fell to Anne’s left hand.
“Not much fit, as of late,” Anne said, flexing her empty left hand and shrugging, prompting Doctor Ward to give her an understanding smile. Gilbert then watched as Anne dropped her eyes, the tightness in her face changing minutely. “And… Mr. Shirley… is no longer with us."
Gilbert’s gaze cut to Doctor Ward as he sat up straighter, the appropriate look of contriteness on his face.
“My sincere apologies, my dear,” he said. “I will leave you be. Please, get some sleep and I will have Gilbert here escort you home in the morning.”
“Thank you, Doctor Ward,” Anne said. Her look of appreciation did not seem as forced as her other emotions, but her body did slump as soon as the doctor left the room to rattle off instructions to his apprentice behind him.
Once Gilbert returned, Anne was laying on her side, eyes on her baby who had fallen back asleep after the doctor’s examinations and a feeding.
“Did you feel that strongly that Doctor Ward not know the truth?” Gilbert asked, hearing the front door shut and signalling that they were alone again.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m tired, Mr. Blythe,” Anne sighed, not looking at him or moving from her spot on the cot.
“No one will make you get up until you feel able,” Gilbert promised, missing half her meaning. “And I will assist you, tomorrow, and get you home.”
Only Anne’s eyes moved to look at Gilbert before her mouth twitched into a sad smile. Gilbert saw the silent tears in her eyes before she rolled over, putting her back to both Gilbert and her baby.
The next afternoon, after a long and uncomfortable night for Gilbert and one for Anne during which she slept harder than she had in a very long time, found Anne dressed and sitting on the cot, looking into the cradle.
“Is he small, for a newborn?” Anne asked, looking almost hesitant to reach in and take his tiny hand.
“A little,” Gilbert said as he entered the back room, tugging at his wrinkled suit. “But perfectly healthy on all counts, I assure you.”
“That’s good,” Anne said simply, her other hand resting on the slight bulge of her stomach beneath her dress. She willed her soreness to dissipate soon but did not have high hopes. She wondered how quickly she would need to replace the rags the doctor had given her and if she would even be able to after leaving the practice. She looked down at her tiny baby and also willed away any thoughts of how she would have handled anything other than a healthy one.
“Do you have plans for returning to your family?” Gilbert asked, hoping his intrusive questions would be forgiven. He couldn’t shake the worry he had for this woman that had kept him up all night. He wondered if her ability to lie so well was something innate or learned.
Anne let out a breath and looked as if her name had been called for the gallows.
“No.”
“Oh. Then back to your home here, in Charlottetown? Will family meet you? You could have told Doctor Ward the truth, in that case.”
“That’s not the truth,” Anne said, now looking like she wished she could just go back to sleep. “I have no family here. Or where I’m from. I am in Charlottetown because I could not make it to where I was aiming for, and I found a place to live, tied to a job. In the kitchens.”
Gilbert’s brows furrowed. “But you lost your job.”
“I did.”
“Miss Shirley, does that mean you have no home to go to?” Gilbert asked, cheeks flushed in emotion.
“It does.”
Gilbert stood in the middle of the small room, unable to do anything with his shock, as Anne stayed sitting on the cot, seemingly emotionless.
“What are you planning on doing, then?” Gilbert asked, not meaning for it to come out as accusatory as it did.
Seeing as her original, and only, plan had moved to another district after promises began to look too much like reality, all Anne could do was shake her head.
“Where were you going to ask me to take you?” Gilbert asked, his worry showing through his eyebrows.
“The church. Maybe.”
Gilbert looked at Anne, who could only be a few years his junior, but all he could see was a lost someone who had been failed by those around her.
“You need to properly recover,” Gilbert said simply. He then turned and walked out of the room and the building altogether.
Anne took a deep breath, knowing that if she let herself feel even just a little bit of anything, she wouldn’t be able to stop. She knew taking care of an infant was exhausting, but she almost welcomed the mechanical nature of it. She knew what needed to be done, how, and when, and could hold it together as long as she had something onto which she could focus all of her attention. It had been years since she had dealt with children, but she had enough experience to be sure that having one of her own could occupy enough of her mind.
When Gilbert returned, which Anne honestly had not been sure about, he came bearing a carpetbag.
“I hope you were telling the truth about your job because I just made some threats that may or may not make you unwelcome in that establishment in the future,” Gilbert said unceremoniously, plopping the bag down on the cot beside Anne.
Confused, she looked at Gilbert warily before leaning over to tug the bag open. To her surprise, there were new cloth diapers sitting atop what appeared to be her possessions that had been left in her room at the brothel. It was truly only a few dresses, a hat for church, and a miniscule collection of books she had fought tooth and nail to keep over the years.
“What did you do?” Anne gaped.
“A few things you cannot tell Doctor Ward about,” Gilbert muttered as he set about making sure the baby was prepared for travel. “This is not ideal, not with your condition, but I am afraid this is the only thing I can think of. Doctor Ward will be back soon so we should not dally, but we can move as slowly as you need to.”
“I do not know if the church—”
“We are not going to the church.”
“Then where are we going?” Anne asked incredulously as she watched Gilbert lift her baby in his arms.
“Avonlea,” Gilbert said, watching as Anne’s face lost all color. “Are you having any cramps?”
Anne shook her head, willing her heart rate to slow.
“It’s not a long train ride. Have you been?”
“No,” Anne murmured, standing slowly. “Almost. Once. I wanted to, to see the place, but I ran out of money, after stopping here.”
“I believe it will be the best place for you to recuperate,” Gilbert promised, nodding for her to lift the carpetbag as it weighed less than the baby.
“Will the church there be more accomodating?” Anne frowned.
“We will not be going to the church there, either,” Gilbert said, looking Anne in the eye.
“Mr. Blythe—”
“Gilbert.”
“Excuse me?”
“Gilbert. You can call me Gilbert, since you are no longer my patient.”
“If you are taking me someplace and leaving me—”
“I am bringing the two of you to my home,” Gilbert said firmly, causing Anne to sit heavily down onto the cot behind her.
On the train, the first Anne had been on in years, she couldn’t help but hold herself tightly. It may all be in her head, but she felt like all eyes were on her and the infant in the basket on the seat beside her. She tried not to meet anyone’s gaze even though it felt like the whole train knew just what she was.
“We’re almost there,” Gilbert said kindly, wanting to reach over and take the woman’s hand to give her some reassurance but knew it would be inappropriate and would probably make her even more tense.
“Gilbert!”
Gilbert turned to see Eliza Barry walking toward him from where she had been conversing with another passenger. He glanced at Anne to see her looking paler than usual, but he had no time to say anything to try to help her.
“Mrs. Barry, what a surprise!”
“I daresay you are the surprise, Gilbert Blythe,” Mrs. Barry said genially. “You are the busy doctor-to-be. We just had Sebastian over to discuss Elijah’s business trip and he said you spend half your time in Charlottetown these days.”
“Just doing what needs to be done,” Gilbert said humbly before the baby in the basket started to make a noise that made Gilbert look over to check if he was distressed in any way.
“Oh, how precious! I remember when mine were this tiny,” Mrs. Barry gushed and turned her polite smile onto Anne.
Gilbert once again watched as Anne transformed before him. While her clothes could never compare to the fashions brought into the Barry household, Anne’s demeanor suddenly made her blend in with all the ladies in their train care.
“I’ve been told they grow quickly but I just can’t imagine it,” Anne said pleasantly, sharing an understanding but polite laugh with Mrs. Barry in a way that actually impressed Gilbert.
Gilbert opened his mouth to begin introductions but Anne purposefully beat him to it, all while hiding her left hand in the skirt of her dress.
“Anne Shirley,” she introduced, “I believe I remember cousin Gilbert here mentioning some of his Avonlea neighbors and he spoke very highly of your family.”
“Cousin? How lovely! I don’t think you’ve mentioned family visiting, Gilbert!” Mrs. Barry said.
“Long-lost, to be honest,” Anne said, bringing her voice down a bit and drawing Mrs. Barry in. “My late husband was not close to his family and I did not know about his distant relation to the Blythes of Avonlea until his passing, unfortunately.”
Anne gave a meek smile to Mrs. Barry’s responding condolences and sympathetic expressions. Gilbert then responded appropriately to the standing invitation to dinner before Mrs. Barry left to return to wherever her youngest was sitting.
“Sorry,” Anne mumbled, slumping back in her seat a little.
“Where did that come from?” Gilbert asked, eyebrows furrowed.
“Did you think about how it would look for you to be traveling, to your home no less, with someone like me?” Anne muttered so no one would overhear.
“I did not,” Gilbert confessed.
“I figured no one could argue with someone your distant cousin married, at least for a brief visit,” Anne shrugged. She glanced out the window as she felt the train begin to slow down and saw a sign for ‘Bright River’.
“I suppose that is what we’ll have to go with,” Gilbert said, standing with the other passengers getting off on the same stop. “Should I be concerned at how well you lie?”
Anne huffed. “Survival skills, Mr. Blythe,” she said sarcastically but Gilbert thought that that was actually the harsh truth.
“I’m sorry that we don’t have a spare room, but Mrs. Hazel is visiting home and won’t be back for a few months, now that school has started,” Gilbert explained as he showed Anne into a tidy but sparse room. “And Elijah is out of town also, so we’re lucky the house is not as full as usual.”
Anne just nodded, unable to find words in return. This man she had just met the day before, who had delivered her baby hours later, no less, had brought her to his home because she had nowhere else to go. She had no words to thank him, nor did she know how to even ask for any kind of explanation or reasoning. Room and board did not come free, and charity did not last forever, but she didn’t have it in her to try to figure out what was really happening here. What did this not-yet-a-doctor want from her? How long would he allow her and her bastard son to sleep in his family member’s bed? How long until she became a risk to his family or his career and she was once again on her own with no man to make her false promises?
Gilbert smiled, not privy to her inner worries, and set her bag on the bed beside the baby basket.
“I’ll get dinner started,” he said before leaving her to settle in.
Downstairs, after the vegetables were haphazardly chopped but the water had yet to boil, the door burst open to the Blythe/Lacroix household.
“Remind me to beg my mother to never leave again,” Bash groaned as he shucked his jacket by the door. “I don’t think I can stand oatmeal again for dinner.”
“I’m not making oatmeal,” Gilbert argued before stepping away from the stove quickly so he could catch the tiny person barrelling towards him.
“Uncle Gilby, no more oatmeal!” Delphine cried before dissolving into giggles as Gilbert started to tickle her.
“We’re having real food for dinner, don’t listen to your father,” Gilbert ordered as Bash rolled his eyes and went to the sink to clean up.
“Dellie, tell Uncle Gilby what you learned from—”
The room froze as a noise erupted from upstairs and carried down into the kitchen.
“Blythe… Why is there a baby in our house?” Bash asked slowly, his eyes widening at the guilty look on Gilbert’s face. He then turned his head and found Dellie’s old cradle sitting at the bottom of the stairs, as if someone had planned to carry it up when they got the chance. Before he could get an answer out of Gilbert, the stairs creaked and the crying got louder.
Dellie scrunched up her nose and put her hands over her ears and Gilbert felt his cheeks heat up as his little family turned to see Anne slowly making her way down the stairs, arms full of blankets and babies.
Gilbert jolted and made his way forward to help her, sure her body wasn’t appreciating all the movement right now.
“Is he okay?” Gilbert asked, now able to see into the bundle and see the infant’s displeased face.
“I needed water and cloths,” Anne mumbled, her eyes darting to Bash and back.
“Daddy,” Delphine whined loudly, her hands still over her ears as the baby cried.
Gilbert nodded and helped Anne back up the stairs, not meeting Bash’s eye, and getting her what she needed from his room so she could change the baby.
“Do they live here?” Anne asked, hearing Delphine’s high voice float up the stairs.
“Yes. I’m sorry, I got caught up in dinner,” Gilbert sighed, hovering as she began to unwrap the baby from his bundle. “That is my brother Bash and my niece Delphine. This was my family’s home and I now share it with Bash and his family. His mother and stepson are away, like I said, but Bash and Dellie should be the only ones here for a while.”
“And—”
“Mary passed away, about five years ago,” Gilbert said and Anne’s eyes dropped away. “I will go talk to Bash… He will understand, I promise.”
Anne looked skeptical but just nodded, turning back to her wriggling baby and working on getting him cleaned up.
When Gilbert went back downstairs, he could hear Delphine mumbling to herself over her homework in the next room. Bash was at the stove, poking at Gilbert’s attempt at dinner. When he walked into the kitchen, Bash just raised an eyebrow at him.
“Listen—”
“I’m all ears,” Bash said sarcastically.
“She has nowhere else to go,” Gilbert sighed, trying to keep his voice down even though Anne knew he was going to talk about her.
“Look, I know you have a big heart, Blythe, but, we have Delphine—”
“And she has a baby too,” Gilbert argued.
Bash shook his head, his hands going to his hips as he sighed. “Not all mothers are alike, Gilbert. It’s unfortunate but it’s the truth.”
“I helped bring that baby into this world, I can’t just send it out there and watch it suffer,” Gilbert hissed before stepping back and running his hand over his face. “I’m sorry. This is your home too, I know. I just…”
“I know,” Bash said, suddenly at Gilbert’s side and clapping a hand on his shoulder. He sighed. “I know.”
“She is all that baby has,” Gilbert whispered, feeling Bash grip his shoulder tighter.
“Alright.” Bash nodded then pulled Gilbert into a quick hug.
Later, after dinner was announced as ready and Gilbert helped Anne back downstairs to properly meet his family, their odd group settled at the table.
“What’s his name?” Delphine asked, leaning her elbows on the table to look into the basket in which Anne’s baby was sleeping.
Anne stilled mid-chew before roughly swallowing. “He doesn’t have one. Yet. Do you want to help me think of something?”
“Yes,” Delphine gasped, looking delighted.
“Are you sure you want to put that in the hands of a six-year-old?” Bash asked, unable to help a grin.
“Her suggestions would be as good as mine,” Anne shrugged, keeping her eyes on her plate. Truthfully, she had never been able to bring herself to think of a name. She had no one to name him after and she had shunned the fantasies of her youth that would have urged her to name him after one of her favorite literary characters. She would never admit it to herself but she also had been hoping, deep down, that his father would return and make good on the dreams he had put in her head. Deciding on a name without him made it all seem more final.
“Dilbert,” Delphine said seriously, causing Bash to snort into his water, before she broke into giggles.
“Miss Anne needs a good name,” Bash chided but couldn’t keep the laughter out of his voice.
“Nothing too long,” Anne said thoughtfully, becoming a bit more comfortable at the table with a topic to focus on. She glanced at Gilbert, who was just watching, before looking back to the little girl across from her. “I don’t want kids giving him mean nicknames.”
“Like Bash?” Gilbert asked, smirking.
“Bash is a good nickname,” Bash groused.
“Jimmy? Jack. Jonah. Like the whale!”
“Are we going with a ‘j’ name?” Anne asked.
“John?”
“John. I like that,” Anne said thoughtfully.
“That was your father’s name, wasn’t it?” Bash asked Gilbert, making Anne frown.
“Oh, nevermind—”
“No, it’s alright. John Shirley, then?” Gilbert smiled. He found he didn’t mind giving this little boy a name with such meaning for him. He couldn’t help but think his father would appreciate what he was doing here even if it was rather crazy.
“John,” Anne said again, leaning over the baby’s basket and smiling down at the content infant. She wondered why Gilbert would let her use his father’s name but figured she wouldn’t be here long for it to matter, for it to interfere with Gilbert’s own life. Maybe she could use it as a reminder of these people that helped her for a little bit, when she needed it most. It almost made her a bit hopeful for the future. She didn’t think she had ever been around people this kind before and she was glad they would teach that to little Delphine. She could only hope she was able to pass that onto John.
“Anne?” Gilbert knocked lightly on Hazel’s door and entered once he heard her answer.
He warmed slightly as he realized she was in her nightgown, sitting up in bed with a closed book in her lap. He then felt a bit stupid since he had helped her deliver her child just the day before, after all.
“Your family is lovely, Gilbert,” Anne said softly, moving her book to the nightstand that held her candle.
“Bash is one of the best men I know,” Gilbert said, smiling lightly. “I know this is a weird situation, and you don’t even know me, but I trust him with my life…”
“I have to admit… I am not sure what to make of anyone so willing to let a stranger into their home,” Anne said honestly, her gaze falling to the cradle beside her bed. “With a newborn, no less.”
“Or we’re just people who want to help our neighbor,” Gilbert said, trying to sound nonchalant but seeing that Anne still looked unsure. “I have something for you.”
Anne frowned, her hand coming up to tug her nighttime braid over her shoulder in an unconscious motion. Gilbert hesitated but stepped forward, pulling his hand out of his pocket and then holding it out to her. Anne glanced at him warily before reaching out, palm up, and Gilbert dropped something into it.
Anne jerked and actually snatched her hand back so the ring Gilbert just handed to her fell on the quilt over her lap.
Gilbert reacted like he was going to pick up the ring but didn’t. “It was my mother’s,” Gilbert said, making Anne’s eyes widen. “I just… I figured you would need something to help with our widowed cousin lie. Just while you’re here. I thought it would help you feel more comfortable?”
Anne’s wide eyes dropped to the ring lying in front of her. It was an simple gold band. It was something Anne would have loved to be given. Not as a prop but as a promise. She sighed, reaching out and unable to stop herself from slipping it on her finger.
“Does it fit?” Gilbert asked, unable to look away. “I would give you her engagement ring, but I fear someone would recognize it…”
Anne nodded. She did feel a little reassured knowing she would receive fewer questions this way, should she come across any other Avonlea natives for whatever reason. She hoped telling that Mrs. Barry would be enough, knowing how women worked in towns like these. Anne also felt herself become somewhat entranced by the gold on her finger. She had never touched anything this nice and knew she never would again. She wondered if she could allow herself a tiny little daydream, just once, where she was granted this gift by someone with pure intentions and dreams as big as hers.
The baby whimpered in his sleep, drawing Anne from her thoughts.
“I’ll take good care of it, thank you,” Anne promised, lifting her eyes to catch the soft smile on Gilbert’s face.
A few days later, Anne pulled herself out of bed with the sun. She had slept more in her short time at this farmhouse than she believed she ever had. Her time was never hers as a child, either delegated by overbearing matrons or overworked mothers. After she aged out of the orphanage, she had known the luxury of sleep was never to be hers with the jobs she was able to find. Now, in this oddly warm and welcoming home, she was recovering from giving birth but also left to her own devices for the most part.
Anne heard Gilbert and his family move about throughout the days, often leaving her alone to work outside, go to school, or the practice, but she never left her room often enough to be sure. She felt hesitant to venture out into a home that was not hers and she didn’t want to test her host’s patience. But after yet another dinner during which everyone was more than pleasant, Anne figured she could do more to prove her appreciation, especially now that she felt up to it.
After getting over her worry about poking around in their pantry, Anne was in the middle of making breakfast when Bash entered the kitchen from the hallway off which his room sat.
Anne jumped slightly at the sudden appearance, surprised that the man moved much quieter when he wasn’t chasing his daughter or mocking Gilbert. She then tried to give him a smile in greeting.
“Good morning,” she tried before jerkily pointing to the table. “The bacon is almost ready…”
Bash blinked, looking like he was trying to see if the eggs on the table were a figment of his imagination. “You made breakfast?”
Anne shrugged, biting her lip. “A-as a thank you? And apology for John waking up so often…”
“He’s a baby, I understand. But I won’t say no to a breakfast that looks as good as this,” Bash said, his mouth twitching into a grin as he gestured to the stove. “That wouldn’t be coffee by any chance, would it?”
“I wasn’t sure how strong you two took it,” Anne started but Bash poured himself a cup without a care.
“Anything is better than the bog water Blythe makes,” Bash muttered, winking at Anne and making her blush and look away.
Anne finished at the stove and set the last of the food on the table. She walked over to John and fussed over him a little when she heard Bash clear his throat from where he sat across from her.
“What did Gilbert tell you about my Mary?” he asked.
Anne’s stomach dropped. “I didn’t know you all had lost someone when I made up my lie,” she said hurriedly. “I am so sorry, Mr. Lacroix, I—”
“No, no,” Bash said, holding up his hand and shaking his head. “That isn’t what I meant. I only… I only mean to say that I understand. Why you came up with that and… everything else. My Mary had it tough, just like you, with Elijah. I only wish she had met someone like Gilbert back then. That boy is a good one and Mary knew it too.”
“Well, maybe he’ll grow up to be like him, even if he won’t remember any of this,” Anne murmured, looking at John and missing Bash’s slight frown.
The last time Anne looked at a calendar, the date was nearing a month since her son was born. And she was still a guest in Gilbert and Sebastian’s home. Despite her misgivings and past experiences, she realized she was finding the place comfortable and more welcoming than any other home in which she had resided since she became an orphan. It was an odd feeling, this one of almost contentedness, and, had it just been her and not her and her son, Anne may have pushed it away in fear. But for John’s sake, for this moment at the very least, she wanted him to live without the constant harshness of stress hovering over them.
Anne had found a sewing machine inside what she had mistaken for just a table in the corner of Bash’s mother’s room. She felt some guilt in using it since it wasn’t hers, but she did vow to replace the thread she used before she left. She could only hope her use of the machine was excusable as she had no other choices but to turn her most worn dress into multiple frocks for John.
She was just finishing the last of what she had been able to make from a single dress, sewing the outfits on the larger side for his tiny frame so he could wear them longer, when she heard a noise by the door.
Anne turned on her stool and found little Delphine peeking around the doorframe. Instead of running away at being caught, the precocious girl stayed where she was.
“Are you making a dress?” she asked curiously, making Anne wonder if she was perhaps bored on her day off from school.
“I’m making things for John to wear,” Anne explained, holding up a finished frock, unable to turn away an inquisitive child.
“Does it have ribbons?” Delphine asked, inching further into the room.
“I’m afraid not,” Anne said and then glanced at her small pile of scraps. “I could cut these into a few ribbons. Would you like one?”
“Yes!” Delphine gasped before quickly adding, “please.”
Anne smiled and beckoned her closer. She pulled out the longest scrap of fabric and used the shears to fancy up the edges, attempting as good of a scalloped finish as she could. She had seen most of Delphine’s wardrobe and knew the little girl did not want for nice clothes, but she still squealed over her gift.
“Thank you,” Delphine beamed before promptly spinning around and reaching over her shoulder to hand the ribbon back to Anne.
“Do you… want me to do your hair?” Anne asked hesitantly and only received a humming affirmation in return. She bit her lip but took the proffered ribbon, trying to remember the few tricks she had been taught. Once she finished braiding, Delphine declared it acceptable, and scurried out of the room and down the stairs.
It had been a long time since Anne had been around children Delphine’s age, but Anne had to admit she did not believe she had ever been around children quite like Delphine. Maybe it was just the little girl’s personality, of which she had plenty, but Anne also wondered if she was thrown off because she had simply not spent any time around children so happy.
Anne was pulled from her thoughts by her own child’s whimpering and, after making sure he was fed, she carried him downstairs. She spied a bowl of apples on the kitchen table and had a sudden desire to continue to create things, just for the feel of it.
She was soon wrist deep in apple peel, apron covered in flower, when the door opened and Bash walked in.
“Are you hungry?” Anne asked immediately, plucking a rag off the back of a chair to wipe her hands. Feeding others was nothing new to her, but she had managed to find a bit of joy in it like she never had before. Maybe it was the lack of demands thrown at her, or just the genuine appreciation granted her way.
“Did you do that to Dellie’s hair?” Bash asked, making Anne pause as she went to retrieve the leftover bacon from breakfast.
Anne turned, looking caught out. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I should have told her to ask you, I—”
“Anne,” he said to stop her, looking a bit bemused. “It’s alright. I was only going to ask where you learned to do that, with her hair?”
Anne opened her mouth to answer but realized that telling someone she learned to braid like that from a brothel would not be appreciated. She flushed slightly, finding it difficult to come up with a lie for Bash of all people, but he seemed to know what she was going to say anyway, if his smirk was any indication.
Before she could say anything else, John started to cry from his basket. But before Anne could even start forward, Bash was there, lifting him up.
“You could smell that diaper a mile away,” Bash said cheerfully, giving John a wide smile.
“Oh no, you don’t have to do that,” Anne said hurriedly, reaching forward.
“It’s been a few years but I can handle a diaper, Shirley,” Bash teased with a wink before whisking off into the other room with her baby, leaving Anne frowning.
Delphine then burst back into the room, pinafore already dirty but hair still in place.
“Miss Anne, can I show Johnny the— Are we having pie?” she gasped, distracted.
“What did you call him?” Bash asked with a chuckle as he walked back in, impressing Anne with his speed. He made no move to return the baby to the basket, seemingly fine with holding the wriggly infant and cooing down at him.
“I’m Dellie and he’s Johnny,” Delphine said, looking pleased with herself.
Bash shrugged, looking to Anne for approval.
“Well, I guess that’s alright,” Anne started, slowly, before Delphine was suddenly standing on a chair.
“I can help,” she declared, Anne only just managing to swipe away the knife she had been reaching for.
“You can help me with the dough,” Anne said quickly, to Delphine’s delight and Bash’s silent amusement.
That evening, Gilbert returned home from Charlottetown to a fresh pie cooling in the window and a whole story from Delphine about her involvement with said pie.
As Gilbert listened to his niece, half aware she was making up the parts about the dragons, he couldn’t help but take note of the small smile on Anne’s face. He only caught a glimpse when she turned around from making dinner to agree with Delphine as requested, but Gilbert wondered at the difference a simple smile made when compared to how tired she had looked when he first met her (childbirth notwithstanding).
It was after dinner, and dessert, that found Gilbert in the kitchen alone with Anne. She had put Johnny to bed in her room upstairs and Bash was on his own mission to do the same with Delphine. Despite her attempts to shoo him away, Gilbert insisted on helping her with the dishes.
Standing side by side, they were making quick work of the cleaning, but Gilbert’s goal was beyond that.
“I heard Dellie asking for a dress to go with her new ribbon earlier,” Gilbert said to break the silence.
“It was just leftover fabric,” Anne said, shaking her head.
“Were you making yourself a dress?” he asked nonchalantly.
“Oh no,” Anne said quickly. “Nothing like that. I was using one of mine to make things for Johnny, actually. It’s best to waste as little as possible so her requesting a ribbon was no trouble.”
Gilbert started to smile at the new nickname that was taking root but then frowned. “Does he need more clothes? You will need something to replace the dress you used, won’t you? I apologize, that never occurred to me. We can go to town after church, if you wish…”
“No,” Anne said louder than intended, a knife slipping from her hand and landing in the sink. “I cannot possibly ask that of you, Gilbert. I am more than fine with what I have—”
“It’s no trouble, especially if Delphine is making demands—”
“You have done more than enough for me, Mr. Blythe—”
“Don’t start that again. You’re the one taking over breakfast and dinner— And that pie!”
“That’s the least I can do when I’m staying here for free , my baby waking everyone up throughout the night,” Anne argued, dishes forgotten as her wet hands went to her hips.
“This isn’t a boarding house, we don’t expect anything from you,” Gilbert huffed.
“You must! Everyone does! That’s how the world works,” Anne cried, her cheeks heating up. “I need to find a job, Mr— Gil— I can’t rely on you forever!”
Gilbert opened his mouth but shut it as soon as he realized he had almost been about to say that she could. He took a breath, trying to see this from her perspective, if only to find a way around the situation. He remembered, suddenly, what she had said after Johnny was born, when she was finally explaining what had brought her to that point in life. He remembered her believing that what seemed too good to be true, usually was. It was a cold way of viewing the world, but Gilbert knew enough to know that not everyone was as lucky as him. He had his hardships, plenty of them, but he came out the other side with a promising career and a family firmly by his side. Anne had none of that.
“We aren’t going to just… kick you to the curb, Anne,” Gilbert said softly, realizing he should have been more clear with her, wondering if she had been walking on eggshells this whole time.
Anne glanced at the ring she still wore despite not yet leaving the home and venturing amongst the other townsfolk.
“I need a job, Gilbert,” she sighed. Despite how nice they had been, Anne barely knew these men. She needed to create her own security for her and her son.
“Okay,” Gilbert said easily. “I’ll bring home a few newspapers. But can you promise me something?”
Anne frowned but nodded.
“You and Johnny are safe here. Why don’t you take this… opportunity to take your time, choose a job you might enjoy. Instead of…”
“The first thing I find,” Anne muttered, crossing her arms over her chest as she looked at Gilbert’s answering smile. She took a breath and gave him a reluctant nod. She still struggled with taking their charity, homemade pies or no, but she couldn’t argue with his logic. She could do so much better for Johnny if she had a more stable means of an income. Anne figured she may have to get creative, especially with her son, but knew that was how she had managed to survive this long.
“And maybe you can find something that won’t require you to lie,” Gilbert said hopefully, gesturing to his ring on her finger. He only received a flat, disbelieving look in response, making him shrug.
Anne relented in Gilbert’s insistence that he buy her enough fabric for a new dress for both Delphine and herself. She knew he was right when he said she would need to look her best if she planned to inquire after jobs. She had yet to join the Blythe/Lacroix family at church, with Johnny so young, but knew she would need to begin attending sooner rather than later, and needed to make a good impression when she did. Anne didn’t believe Gilbert fully understood how much he had helped her in going along with her lie and providing her with such an important family heirloom to help. But she was set on not taking advantage of the situation, either way.
The night before she planned to join Gilbert in town to pick up fabric and newspapers, she couldn’t sleep.
Recovering from having a baby and dealing with said baby made for a good excuse in her secret desire to stay hidden away in the farmhouse. Anne was hesitant to go to town, to mingle with Gilbert’s neighbors and fellow townsfolk, to put herself in the spotlight as if one look would tell everyone exactly what she was: an orphaned, unwed mother. In the parts of Charlottetown she had frequented, she could get lost in the crowd, but not in a place like Avonlea. But the irony sat in the fact that such a place also felt so comfortable and safe, despite her concerns. She could only hope that she could spend her time here unnoticed so as not to cause troubles for the lovely family that had taken her in.
Anne rolled over in her bed, only able to guess how long she had laid there, unsuccessful in her quest to sleep. But it was because she was awake that she heard the quiet whimpers coming from the crib beside her.
Sitting up, Anne squinted over at Johnny, trying to get a look at his little face in the pale light coming in through the window. She could just make out the distressed look he held, but was saved the trouble as he quickly began crying, in earnest now.
“Sweetheart,” Anne sighed, throwing off her covers and sliding to the side of the bed. She reached into the crib to scoop up the baby in a blanket, ready to feed him to quiet him down, but frowned once she had him in her arms. She stood and took a few quick steps to stand by the window to get a better look. She loosened the blanket before letting it slip onto the ground, leaving the baby in his nightgown. Anne settled him into one arm and used her free hand to feel his face and confirmed that he was much too warm.
At first, Anne called on her prior experience and did what she knew to do when dealing with an upset baby. But as the night wore on, and Johnny seemed to only get more and more distressed, Anne felt fear building in her gut.
Anne forgot all about the others that lived in this house with her as she became more stressed and worried as Johnny continued to wail, whimper, and grow warmer and warmer. She began to think about the worst when she heard a knock, the door opening before she could respond.
Gilbert walked in, looking as if he had fallen asleep half in his day clothes. His brow furrowed in concern but he looked more like the doctor that had delivered this baby than the man he was just hours ago when he had been telling Delphine and Johnny a story that she had been half sure was partly true.
Anne turned to face him, arms weak from holding Johnny for so long. Gilbert blurred before her and she realized she was crying, although the baby was sobbing enough for the two of them.
“I’m sorry,” Anne whimpered, shaking her head, her hair slipping out of its braid, because she didn’t know what else to do. She couldn’t remember any of her previous charges being this sick, this young, and she was getting scared.
Gilbert just shook his head as he walked towards her, holding out his arms to take Johnny immediately. He sat on the edge of her bed and Anne stayed standing, arms moving to wrap around herself. She could only watch as Gilbert silently examined her baby and she couldn’t remember why she had been worried weeks ago when she had found out Gilbert hadn’t owned the Charlottetown practice like she had assumed at first.
“We need to do more to cool him down,” Gilbert said, speaking at a normal volume that sounded both loud in the dark room and a whisper compared to Johnny’s cries. He stood, nodding for her to bring the baby basket, and then carried Johnny out of the room and down the hall.
Anne could only follow behind him as he walked into a room she had not been in before, which she assumed was his by the books and papers on the desk. The lamps in his room were lit and he used the light to examine Johnny again. He then laid Johnny on his bed, slipping his clothes off, and requested Anne bring over his pitcher of water and the towels he had on his dresser. The two then worked together for the rest of the night, paying no mind to the movement of the moon as it disappeared into the horizon, trying to get the baby’s temperature down and make him comfortable.
It was later that morning, after Bash made breakfast and got a sleepy Delphine to school, that Gilbert and Anne were found in Gilbert’s room. Bash just stood silently in the doorway, watching as Anne curled up atop the covers of Gilbert’s bed, Gilbert himself slumped against the bed from his spot on the floor, and little Johnny slept soundly with no regard for all the other occupants of the house that he had kept up throughout the night.
Bash let them sleep for a while longer until he could make an excuse for an early lunch, which he began to make, just a bit louder than normal.
At the clang of a cast iron skillet, Anne jerked awake. Her head pounded and she was rather cold. It took her a few moments to realize why she wasn’t in her half-room at the brothel, and a few more to realize she wasn’t in the farmhouse room she had appropriated. Once she could think clearly, she sat up, hurting her neck in how fast she turned to find Johnny. She could only groan slightly at the sight of him awake, seemingly just waiting for her to start the day. Her head fell into her hands right as she felt the end of the bed shift.
“Damn,” Gilbert muttered without thought as he sat up, hand flying to his neck to try to rub the crick out of it. He then scrambled upright, stumbling slightly on his numb foot, but looked into the basket as fast as he could.
“He looks like nothing happened,” Anne whispered, lifting her head and watching Gilbert let out a breath.
“Thank God,” Gilbert said under his breath, reaching his hand in to let Johnny grip his finger. He had done his best to think like the doctor he was, but part of him felt distinctly unprofessional in the amount of worry he had for this little boy that had become a fixture in his home, even if no one said as much out loud.
He felt Anne move to his side, both now looking down at the baby blinking up at them.
“Thank you, Gilbert,” Anne whispered, almost afraid to speak too loudly. She reached out and gripped his wrist before letting go. She then left the room with Johnny in his basket before Gilbert could respond.
After the scare Johnny gave them with his fever, there was a noticeable shift in the way the house occupants acted with each other. Where Anne had previously taken on a role more like that of someone hired to help around the house, she became even more comfortable just existing in the home. She continued to cook for the family, not because she felt obligated to, but because she wanted to keep busy for her own sake, and because she enjoyed it. She now had the time and resources to cook for pleasure, even if only for the pleasure of pleasing others. Anne also felt more comfortable moving around Gilbert and Bash as they continued to do their own chores around the house. That had honestly been a first for her, men doing housework, but began to believe them when they said they were just as capable as cleaning up after themselves as she was. Additionally, Anne found herself barely giving either man a second look when they beat her to Johnny’s cradle whenever he needed something that someone other than her could provide. She definitely knew she had never experienced men assisting her with a baby, let alone men like Gilbert and Bash who almost seemed to enjoy having an infant in the house.
And Johnny was obviously flourishing. Anne wasn’t sure if that could be attributed to all the extra hands he had aiding him whenever he cried, but she knew it didn’t hurt. He was beginning to fill out his frocks and make noises in response to Bash’s endless baby-talk. Anne couldn’t wait until he could smile or lift his head enough to see the scenery on their walks through the orchard.
Anne knew that as he continued to grow, the more he would need, so she had to start going into town to show her face in order to ask after job openings.
The next free afternoon provided no easy excuse for not going to town, so to town they went. Anne had hoped they would all go, as there was safety in numbers and all that, but only Gilbert was accompanying her. She spent the buggy ride to town fussing over Johnny, slinged across her chest, both in her worry for his first journey since arriving at his temporary residence and as an outlet for her nerves.
Once in town, horse and buggy tied to the post, Anne found that it was a rather quiet afternoon. On their way to the general store, Gilbert was greeted by almost everyone they walked past, but most only gave her polite nods. She felt extra aware of her surroundings, and the loaned ring on her finger felt heavier than before, but it wasn’t until they had placed most of their necessary orders with the clerk did anyone pay her much mind.
“And are there any job postings other than the ones placed in the newspaper?” Anne asked, giving the clerk a polite smile.
He glanced down at the bundle strapped to her chest, but said nothing as he pointed her to a board on the wall by the front door.
After thanking the clerk, Anne stepped aside so the next customer could approach the counter, and turned to approach the bulletin board herself. Before she reached it, however, her path was blocked by a woman whose presence immediately made up for whatever she lacked in height.
“I couldn’t help but overhear,” the woman said eagerly, making Anne assume she actually made all her choices very deliberately. “Did you say you were after the job postings? Would that be for yourself or someone else?”
Anne blinked. “Myself,” she said.
“Wonderful! I always like to be the first to know these kinds of things, you see, and being your first customer does have its benefits. Now, this is most unusual, but I do not believe we have met before, Mrs…?”
“Shirley,” Anne said quickly before shifting to stand straighter and adopt a friendly smile.
“Rachel Lynde,” the woman introduced, giving Anne’s hand a perfunctory shake. “You must be new to town, Mrs. Shirley?”
“Yes. I am visiting a relative while I recuperate,” Anne explained, gesturing to the sling.
“Must be a new one, to sleep that soundly,” Rachel said, giving Anne an expentant look that made her dip down so the woman could take a peek and coo appropriately. She then saw someone behind Anne and waved. “Marilla, I think I have found the answer to our prayers.”
“Well, I’m not sure I’ve been asking the lord for anything that could be found in the general store,” another woman said dryly as she appeared beside Rachel, waiting for an explanation her shorter friend was sure to give.
“Were we or were we not just sharing woeful tales about what we can no longer do around the house?” Rachel asked, to which her friend gave a reluctant nod. Rachel then turned back to Anne with a business-like smile. “Mrs. Shirley! Marilla and I would like to hire you to do a few odds and ends, just what our old eyes and fingers can no longer handle.”
“Speak for yourself,” Marilla muttered before turning to smile politely at Anne. “I cannot speak for Rachel, despite her often speaking for me, but I am finding it difficult to do some of the sewing I used to. I can’t say it’ll be much—”
“But word gets around Avonlea, I assure you,” Rachel said, making Marilla give Anne a pointed look that made her bite back a smile. “You will have people lining up to speak with you after church in no time. Why, I just had Mrs. Pye lamenting the fact that it is so difficult these days to find a maid that can cook and sew. Imagine! But that works for you, doesn’t it, dear?”
Anne gripped her newspapers tighter in her hand, somewhat taken aback by this proposal. She had no idea how much work would really come of this, she had noted the wealthy homes they had passed on their way into town and knew those people had plenty of help already, but she knew it was the start of something that she could do with Johnny by her side. So she had to accept.
“That sounds extraordinary, Mrs. Lynde,” Anne said, receiving a satisfied smile in return.
Just as Mrs. Lynde opened her mouth to continue, Gilbert walked back into the store, holding up another newspaper (that he had had to retrieve from the public house a few doors down) when he caught her eye. He then realized who she was talking to and quirked an eyebrow at her as he walked up.
“Miss Cuthbert, Mrs. Lynde,” Gilbert greeted with a nod. “I see you’ve already met Mrs. Shirley.”
Rachel’s eyes widened in recognition. “Well,” she huffed, smiling like a journalist with the latest scoop. “Eliza was hesitant to say much, but she did mention you had a visitor, Gilbert! I was afraid we had missed her when only your usual joined you for the last few services.”
“Bedrest, doctor’s orders,” Gilbert fudged easily. He was still uncomfortable with the ‘cousin’ lie but figured it easier to just let information spread naturally (with an unnatural push courtesy of Rachel Lynde herself, it seemed).
“We look forward to seeing you again this Sunday, then,” Marilla said, giving her friend a look but giving Anne a polite smile. “We can discuss this further then, Mrs. Shirley. It was lovely to meet you.”
“You as well,” Anne said, watching Marilla shuffle Rachel out the door.
“Now the whole town will know you’re here without you having to even meet them,” Gilbert said with a sardonic smile.
“They might give me a job,” Anne said, sounding as if she didn’t quite believe her own words.
“Really?” Gilbert asked, perking up. “That’s great!”
“It may not be much,” she said quickly, not wanting to get her hopes up. “We can still look in the papers. But anything is… more than I could ask for, really. I can begin saving and I’ll be able to get out of your hair much faster.”
Anne gave Gilbert a satisfied smile before stepping over to the bulletin board so as not to miss any opportunities. What she did miss, however, was the way her last words made Gilbert’s shoulders drop.
That Sunday Anne couldn’t miss church, not when others were expecting her. She knew not attending service in a town like this, especially when she was meant to be more of an upstanding citizen than she was, would do her no favors. She only requested they sit near the back of the church, should Johnny not be impressed with Jesus or the hymns, and Bash assured her that they did anyway, both out of habit from when Delphine was young and from when the town wouldn’t stop staring years ago.
So Anne donned her best, a new dress she had just finished, and made sure Johnny was bundled up for his second trip out into the cooling weather. She had seen Gilbert and Bash in their Sunday suits before, but felt inexplicably proud to be walking with two townsmen that seemed to be respected by everyone that they passed. Delphine commandeered Anne’s free hand, pleased as punch in her also-new dress that she had squealed over upon receipt. Anne realized this was the most comfortable she had ever felt walking into a large crowd of people, awaiting judgment. Maybe it was because she knew Gilbert and Bash wouldn’t leave her side, or because the little girl hanging off her hand was a good distraction, but she knew, whenever she had to leave Avonlea, she would never find anything else like it.
To her surprise, the church service went by without anyone standing up, denouncing her as a sinner, and throwing her out into the dirt.
For the most part, anyone that did come up to speak to her and her party were brief but friendly. She even ended up with a few orders that she didn’t know what to do with but Gilbert practically accepted on her behalf. It was only when Rachel Lynde came up, after chatting with a group of ladies by the door, that she found out she was on her way to becoming the town’s go-to seamtress.
“Oh, we know where to go for a custom gown, of course,” Rachel said with a wave of her hand. “And Mrs. Andrews’ youngest used to have quite the deft hand, before she married, that is. We aren’t a large place, Avonlea. As you know, of course. But I believe we can provide you with a few things to work on, in between caring for your little one. No one will say so but we do know how to do our part for our widows around here, may God rest his soul.”
Anne could only give her a pained smile, trying to push away any guilt she felt over lying about a nonexistent man’s death. She knew a woman like Rachel Lynde would more than give her the time of day should she know the truth, but it would be in no way positive. Anne wondered how long this lie could last before she was found out. She didn’t want to think about it, but she knew her stay in Avonlea would have to end before that happened.
Anne then allowed Delphine to pull her away, the perfect conversation ender, as she absolutely had to show Delphine’s little friends baby Johnny, as if he was Delphine’s to brag about for show and tell.
Gilbert’s eyes followed as Anne knelt in the dirt, a patient smile on her face as a small band of six-year-olds circled around her in anticipation, as if half didn’t already have younger siblings at home.
“How fortunate that she’s so good with children,” Rachel Lynde said, drawing Gilbert’s attention back to her. “I had my great aunt stay with me once, when my eldest wasn’t even ten, and she couldn’t stand babies. I had no idea why she chose to stay for over a month!”
“Explain her relation again, Gilbert,” Marilla Cuthbert requested, speaking up after silently watching Gilbert watch Anne.
“Third cousin,” Gilbert said automatically, hoping that was the right number that had told people. He then quickly added, “Through marriage. She married my third cousin.”
“Marriage, yes,” Marilla said absently, her gaze falling back to Anne as she whispered something that made the little girls around her run away giggling.
“Going out?” Bash asked as he washed his hands then came over to pick at the cold lunch Anne had set out for him.
“I thought I’d take Miss Cuthbert her things, seeing as I’ve already finished. No reason to wait until Sunday,” Anne shrugged, buttoning her coat.
“Do you need a ride?”
“No, no, don’t trouble yourself. Johnny and I would like a nice walk anyway.”
“Oh, he would, would he?” Bash asked, grinning down at the baby in his basket and taking the little hand that reached out.
“And I should receive my first payment,” Anne whispered conspiratorially, unable to help her excitement.
“Nothing like your own money, eh?” Bash smiled knowingly.
Anne beamed before scooping up her baby, dropping a kiss to his cheek, and expertly slipping him into the sling around her torso.
“I shouldn’t be long!”
The weather was rapidly dipping into the colder temperatures but Anne had always enjoyed a brisk walk in the biting air. She only hoped Johnny had been bundled up enough.
The walk to Green Gables was shorter than she expected, which was to her benefit as it was a tad colder than anticipated. As she approached the gate, Anne saw Matthew Cuthbert and another man exit the barn. They saw her immediately, and she gave an awkward wave. The other man with Matthew went back into the barn but Matthew walked out to meet her. Anne hadn’t spoken to him much besides the perfunctory greetings at church the few times she had been. He seemed like a nice enough man, soft spoken which contrasted nicely with the no-nonsense attitude of his sister and the amount of personality she was becoming used to while living in a house with Sebastian Lacroix.
“Good day,” he said as he approached the gate.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Cuthbert,” Anne said. “I apologize for dropping by unannounced. I simply wanted to give Miss Cuthbert her sewing order. Sunday just seemed so far away and all.”
“Well. Marilla is spending the afternoon with Rachel Lynde,” Matthew informed her gruffly.
“Oh. That’s alright. Can I leave it with you, then?” Anne asked, hiding her slight disappointment. A few days wouldn’t hurt in the long run, in regards to her payment, but she had been looking forward to it, even if she was only going to put it away.
“Mhm,” he hummed, taking the bundle of cloth she pulled from a basket. Matthew looked as if he wanted to end this conversation but suddenly said, “Payment. Did she pay you, beforehand?”
“It’s alright, I’ll see her on Sunday,” Anne brushed off.
“No, no.” Matthew shook his head and opened the gate expectantly.
Anne hesitated but slipped through and followed Matthew up to the house. It was pleasantly warm when he opened the door and allowed her inside. She felt Johnny squirm against her chest.
Mr. Cuthbert went into another room and came back with an envelope, for which she thanked him profusely. Before she could turn back to the door, he cleared his throat.
“You walked here? With the little one?” he asked. At her nod, he gestured towards the kitchen table. “Rest a moment. Would you like tea?”
“Oh, I can’t interrupt your day,” Anne frowned.
“It’s alright. Jerry can handle it,” Matthew said, going to the stove and puttering around, inexpertly putting together tea.
Anne bit back a smile as she sat, pulling Johnny out of his sling so he could wiggle in her arms.
After a few moments, Matthew set the kettle and two cups on the table. He forgot the milk but Anne didn’t remind him.
“Thank you,” she said, wondering if this man had only watched his sister have guests over the years.
“You have a handsome one, there,” Matthew said, making an aborted gesture towards Johnny.
“Do you want to hold him?” Anne asked, perking up. Before he could answer, he suddenly had an armful of infant that was blinking up at him. Anne watched as Matthew froze, visibly having no idea what to do with a baby. She was ready to scoop him back up if necessary, but she secretly thought she was right in thinking Matthew Cuthbert was also secretly enthralled. When Johnny reached up for his nose, Anne knew she was right.
Some amount of time later, Anne couldn’t have said how long, there was a knock on the front door.
Anne, long ago shucking her coat and making herself comfortable in the warm kitchen, rocked Johnny in her arms as Matthew excused himself to answer it.
She was surprised to see him walk back in from the other room with Bash behind him.
“Bash! Is everything alright?” Anne asked, standing with a frown.
Bash huffed. “It seems everyone is fine,” he said dryly. “I was just wondering why your short walk was taking hours.”
Anne blinked at Bash before spinning to look at the clock on the wall. “Oh!” she gasped, not realizing how much time had passed. She then looked back at Bash. “Were you worried?”
“Well—”
“You were worried,” Anne said, pleased. She ignored Bash’s rude eye roll and turned to Matthew who looked uncomfortable. “I apologize for taking up so much of your time—”
“Quite alright,” he said gruffly, making her beam at him.
Anne handed Johnny to Bash so she could get ready to leave, giving her thanks and making her goodbyes to Matthew. As she walked down the yard with Bash, waving at Matthew watching them from the porch, Anne realized she had made another friend on this island. She had barely noticed time slipping by as she chatted with Matthew Cuthbert, feeling like a little girl again at the giggles he pulled from her with his wry comments. He wasn’t a man of many words, but used as many as he needed to make his point, and he somehow seemed to enjoy the tea he shared with Anne Shirley and all the words she felt were necessary to share what was in her head.
Anne wondered if she was simply meant to befriend a regular ragbag of kindred spirits in her short time in this place. She could only hope to keep some of them once this all ended.
Anne managed to keep herself so busy (with taking care of Johnny, taking over as the resident seamstress in Avonlea somehow, continuing to cook most of the meals for the farmhouse, and joining the rest of the adults of the home in keeping Delphine entertained as it became too cold to play outside) that she did not realize Christmas was days away until Bash brought home a tree after church one Sunday.
“Do… do you have any traditions?” Anne asked hesitantly as she came up beside Gilbert who was finding amusement in watching Bash struggle with the tree.
“Dellie is a fan of popcorn garlands,” Gilbert said. “I have a few ornaments from my childhood and we have what’s left of the ones Mary kept from her childhood and what she has from Elijah’s. Besides the tree, we’ve just kept it simple since Mary passed. Christmas Eve service. Lunch Christmas Day.”
“I can’t promise it will be as good without my mother,” Bash said through a mouthful of needles as he got the tree upright, refusing any of Gilbert’s help.
Anne wrapped her arms around her chest. “I can see if there is an opening at the boarding house for the night…”
Anne then found herself on the receiving end of two bewildered looks. Gilbert turned to stare at her to her right, Bash from behind the tree across from them.
“Why?” Gilbert blurted out beneath his furrowed brows that matched his confused intonation.
Anne shrunk back a little as she said, “To… get out from under your feet? For Christmas?”
“You don’t want to spend Christmas with us?” Gilbert asked, making Bash scoff.
“We can’t ask you to leave the house, Anne,” Bash said, accurately understanding Anne’s plight. “We would be happy to have you join us. I’m not just saying that.”
“I can’t interrupt your family—”
“Stay,” Bash insisted. “We mean it.”
Anne bit the inside of her cheek, still looking unsure until her eyes fell onto Gilbert, who nodded his agreement. “Alright,” she said slowly.
“Perfect. Now no one has to tell Dellie that Miss Anne won’t be here Christmas morning,” Bash sighed, making Anne frown and Gilbert make a face at the idea.
A few nights later, the Christmas Eve church service ended and most of the congregation stayed inside in order to wish each other well and make small talk about their plans for the next day.
Anne had a sleeping Johnny in her arms as she cornered Matthew Cuthbert, inquiring after an animal of his that had encountered a fox the last she heard.
“Just a graze,” Matthew assured her, looking surprised that she had even remembered.
“Good. Hopefully that fox can find its dinner elsewhere,” Anne said with a nod. She turned her polite but genuine smile onto Marilla as she walked up. “Merry Christmas Eve, Miss Cuthbert.”
“And to you, Mrs. Shirley.”
“I hope you two have a wonderful meal planned for tomorrow,” Anne said, and meant it. She felt someone step beside her and knew it was Gilbert before she glanced over.
“Just a lunch for the two of us, nothing extravagant,” Marilla said modestly as both siblings nodded to Gilbert in greeting.
Gilbert started to give his usual pleasantries but what came out of his mouth instead was, “Join us.”
Marilla’s face went slack in surprise and Anne blinked over at him.
Gilbert’s request surprised even him, but, now that the words were out there, he found he liked the idea. He felt he had paid more attention to his hometown as of late, while helping Anne find her place in it, and it made him take a closer look at the people he had been surrounded by for most of his life. He was already opening his doors to new people, with Anne being given a place at his table, and it just felt natural to extend the invitations further, especially to two people who would otherwise just spend Christmas day with each other like they did every other day.
“Please. We have plenty of room. I can only apologize for not having thought of it before,” Gilbert said earnestly. “If it isn’t too much trouble for you.”
“That sounds lovely,” Anne beamed, turning her smile onto the Cuthberts and giving them no room to reject it.
“Well. That… that’s a very generous offer,” Marilla stammered, sharing a look with Matthew. He just blinked at his sister before looking helplessly at Anne’s bright face.
“We’d love to,” Matthew said, looking as if the words slipped out without his permission.
Thus, Anne spent her first Christmas day in a happy, pleasant home with the family that had taken her in so generously and the neighbors that had treated her with nothing but kindness. Anne could only hope that all of Johnny’s holidays were as joyful and warm as his first. She almost couldn’t tear her eyes away from Delphine as she watched the little girl just be so… happy. In her dreams that night, she wished for just a little of that happiness to rub off on her little boy and stay there, never to be chipped away like hers had.
Anne was finishing up the last few stitches on the mending she was doing for Rachel Lynde when Johnny started to cry.
She let out a sigh, as she had only just changed him, and lifted the linens off her lap carefully, keeping her eye on the needle so she didn’t lose it.
“Hey there, John,” Gilbert greeted, appearing out of nowhere and scooping the baby up effortlessly.
“You don’t have to—”
“I know my way around a baby, Anne,” Gilbert teased as he settled Johnny into the crook of his elbow, the infant’s cries dying into just whimpers. “You don’t need to do every little thing on your own.”
He was giving her a teasing smirk, which she knew meant no harm, but she frowned anyway. “Well, I have been for the last twenty-three years,” she huffed.
Gilbert kept his eyes on the baby. “That doesn’t have to last forever,” he said simply.
Anne didn’t have an answer for such a statement. She knew she couldn’t get too used to Gilbert and Bash helping her with Johnny, even though they seemed to refuse to stop, but she also knew she wanted Gilbert to be right… even if it was unrealistic.
Anne then just sat back down, picking up her sewing for something to do so she wouldn’t just stand there watching Gilbert rock her baby and look like there wasn’t anywhere else he’d rather be.
“He’s still rather small for three months,” Gilbert said suddenly. “But I expect he’ll outgrow these frocks soon.”
Anne dropped her needle as her head shot up. She twisted around in her chair to look at the calendar on the wall and found that Gilbert was right. Johnny was already three months old and she hadn’t even realized. Had she really been living here for that amount of time? It felt longer, like she had known this place for as long as she could remember.
Three months. Her Johnny was three months. And two days, if the calendar was correct. He was now older than she had been when she became an orphan. The very thought, of forcing Johnny into the same fate as her, was enough to make her sick. It was something she had forced out of her head ever since she knew for sure that she was with child. She couldn’t bear it; she would hate herself too much to function if she endured the thought, for even a moment. She still didn’t have an answer for herself, for the question of what would happen to her son should she succumb to the same illness that took her parents or anything similar. She opened her mouth to ask, to see if Gilbert could give her an answer like he had when the question was where she was to go three months ago, but couldn’t. For once in her life, she would have to find bliss in ignorance to spare herself the pain of the truth.
“Anne?”
Anne’s head snapped up to look at Gilbert, now setting Johnny back into his basket.
“Yes,” she said quickly, shaking her head against her thoughts. “I um. I can use some of what he has now to make bigger ones for him…”
As the weather fought its way through winter, with spring just on the horizon, Anne began having trouble sleeping.
The thoughts running through her head wouldn’t settle enough for her to fall asleep as she normally did, but they also wouldn’t settle enough for her to get a hold of them. It had to be worry, there was so much more on her plate now and so much more riding on her ability to act like a respectable citizen while lying through her teeth, but her mind spun too fast for her to try to even lie to herself to create a false sense of calm that would allow her to close her eyes.
After feeding Johnny, and adopting a newfound surety that he would now sleep until the sun rose, at the least, Anne slipped a sweater over her nightgown and crept downstairs.
With a lightness to her movements that she had learned from her time at the Hammonds, Anne set about making a warm cup of milk from a recipe she had read in the papers but had never tried before. She hoped it would help since she needed the sleep, as she had promised to spend the next day in the orchard with Delphine to collect whatever she deemed necessary for an art project.
As she waited for the milk to heat up, staring off into space in the dark and silent kitchen, the sound of the knob turning on the front door sounded like a gunshot. Anne’s heart leapt into her throat and she grabbed the first thing she could reach, almost stumbling as she tried to take a step back to put herself further from the door.
Gilbert froze in the doorway of his home as his eyes fell on Anne, standing with a cast iron skillet in her hand, her eyes so wide he could see the whites from the other side of the room.
“Uh…”
“Gilbert,” Anne gasped, visibly slumping, the skillet almost slipped from her hand as it went back onto the stove.
“Sorry,” Gilbert said sheepishly as he closed the door behind him and hung up his coat. “Did I scare you?”
“I almost hit you over the head,” Anne said, falling into a chair and trying to hold back a hysterical giggle.
“Sorry,” he said again, the corner of his mouth twitching.
“Are you just getting home from the station?” Anne asked with a frown after she got her heartbeat back under control.
“I had to take a detour to the Sloane’s.”
“Is everyone alright?”
“Yes. Or no, if you ask Mrs. Sloane’s daughter-in-law’s hypochondria,” Gilbert muttered before hastily adding, “But don’t tell anyone I said that.”
Anne had to muffle her giggle but she nodded. She stood and went back to the stove to finish her milk, making two cups when she saw Gilbert join her at the table instead of going on to his room. She just shrugged at his mumbled thanks as she handed him his cup and sat back down.
“Can’t sleep?” he asked.
Anne shook her head.
“Thinking too much? That’s what gets me…”
“Too much, not enough. I don’t know,” Anne sighed, sipping at her drink.
Gilbert just nodded, letting silence fall back across the table. He drank his warm milk, making a note to ask Anne about the recipe later, and couldn’t keep his eyes from sliding over to her, watching as she stared at nothing.
Before he could stop himself, perhaps lulled into it by the drink, Gilbert broke the quiet.
“Can I ask you a question?”
Anne blinked back into the moment and looked at Gilbert. She nodded, an easy, trusting look on her tired face.
“Did you always want children?” he found himself asking.
Anne looked surprised at the question but didn’t look like she wasn’t going to answer. She put her elbow on the table and leaned her head onto her hand, looking more loose in the cover of darkness.
“I don’t know,” Anne admitted, chewing on her lip and letting her eyes avoid Gilbert by resting on the table. “Maybe. I suppose it’s expected of women, so we expect it for ourselves. Of course… I never wanted it like this…”
“Sorry—”
“It’s alright,” Anne shrugged, giving him a wry smile. “It’s the truth. But it is what it is, I suppose. As… as long as I don’t ruin his life, I won’t regret it, not when he looks so happy to see me in the mornings…"
“You won’t ruin his life,” Gilbert said as if it was the easiest response in the world.
Anne said nothing, her smile turning sad as her arms folded on the table and she rested her chin on top, making her look younger.
The silence returned, drinks finished, as both of their thoughts slid to the little boy upstairs.
“What about you?” Anne asked without thinking, keeping her head on her arms.
Gilbert hadn’t expected the question but knew it was fair.
“I think so,” he said. “My father said I was the best thing that ever happened to him. He may have just been telling me, well, anything. But… watching Bash with Dellie… maybe he was telling the truth.”
“I think you’ll be a wonderful father,” Anne whispered, realizing she had been more sure about little else.
“You think?” Gilbert asked hesitantly, his voice just as soft as hers.
“I know,” Anne amended, her gaze trapped in his.
When Bash first sat her down and told her his mother was returning within the month, although his step son was extending his own trip, she had inwardly panicked. Her lie was still holding, she honestly believed that the people of Avonlea even liked her for the most part, but she wasn’t ready to go. Not yet. She knew she was holding onto something she couldn’t keep, but figured… just a little bit longer. For Johnny.
So, a few weeks later, shortly after Johnny passed the six month mark, she walked into the house with a plan.
“I’m going to live at Green Gables,” Anne announced at dinner.
Gilbert started to cough. It took half a glass of water for him to stop.
“What’s that now?” Bash asked, shooting Gilbert a look.
“I asked Marilla Cuthbert about boarding houses, when I took her mending to her this weekend. She then suggested that I board with them! In exchange for helping her around the house, with her eyesight getting worse and all. I would lose her as a customer but I can’t imagine how much I would be spending should I actually try to pay for a boarding house, especially with Johnny. It’s a dream come true, really! I… I thought I could stay… in Avonlea. For just a few more months…"
Anne bit her lip, looking unsure about her decision despite her prior excitement. She had to look away from the frown on Gilbert’s face, thankfully finding a pleased look on Delphine’s.
“I can visit Butterscotch!” Delphine beamed.
“I think that’s a great idea, Anne,” Bash said, causing her shoulders to un-hunch.
“Thank you, Bash,” Anne said softly, smiling at him and keeping her eyes off Gilbert as he said nothing.
Two Sundays later, after church, Anne moved her small pile of belongings (which had grown since she first arrived, but was still primarily made up of baby items) down the way and into Green Gables. Marilla gave Anne a beautiful room at the end of the hall, where Johnny’s crib had already been set up, and told her to make herself at home. While she had always lived in other’s homes, all her life, she felt good about this one.
Anne put Johnny down for his nap and sat on her new bed.
She had a pleasant feeling about her decision to move here, but she also felt cold, like her stomach was twisted, at how she had left the place she had called home for the first six months of Johnny’s life.
Bath and Delphine had seen her off with a buggy ride to Green Gables.
Gilbert had not joined them.
In fact, he had not gone to church that morning, citing a need for him at Doctor Ward’s.
He had been in Charlottetown much more than usual the last few weeks. Bash tried to make excuses, saying Gilbert often became engrossed in his work at times, but Anne could feel the change between Gilbert and her, ever since she announced she was moving out.
It confused her. Anne had no idea why he would react this way, with this… lack of reaction. She would be hard pressed to count the words he’d spoken to her the past week on two hands. It baffled her. She was his charity case, this stranger he brought into his home without a plan. She thought he would be pleased to see her leave, to see that he had succeeded in helping her get to her feet in a way she never would have in the streets of Charlottetown.
And it wasn’t like she had gone far. Delphine had even made her promise to bring Johnny to dinner at some point so she could badger her father into making some kind of specialty of his. So she’d see them all again, and easily so.
But the thought of Gilbert not being there, or worse, continuing to not speak to her for whatever reason… made her nauseous. She couldn’t think of any other person in her life that made her want to cling to them, tightly, so they wouldn’t leave. And that’s all she could imagine doing if Gilbert were standing before her at that moment.
Shaking her head, Anne tried to force herself into productivity.
She checked on Johnny and then began to unpack her bags. She made it through the bag of baby things and turned to her personal bag, the old fashioned carpet bag Gilbert had given her to hold the things he had taken back from the brothel in some still-unknown fashion. Anne hesitated at the sight of the bag but pushed forward, popping the clasp open.
Instead of just her dresses, however, a folded piece of paper sat atop her belongings.
Frowning, Anne slowly reached into the bag and lifted the paper out.
Her name had been written across the top in handwriting she only recognized from grocery lists.
Anne,
I apologize for not seeing you off, but I am afraid I cannot watch you walk out my front door.
I know you view the world in as harsh a light as it has treated you. My unrealistic wish is that I could change that for you, Anne. You deserved the childhood you are giving Johnny, and you deserve to have the world see you like I do. My more realistic wish is that you at least left our orchard with a family inside. You told me, when Johnny was born, that you were alone. I hope you know that will never be true again.
I am not writing this to guilt you, or make you feel you owe me anything, not for these words or the help I was happy to give you these past months. I simply felt the need to be honest, even after all the lies we have crafted around your being here in Avonlea.
You, and you alone, are the keeper of the key to my heart, Anne. The time we have spent together has done nothing but intertwine you into my life in ways that can never be untangled. My father used to speak of love, and I witnessed it as I watched Bash fall in love with his Mary, but I never imagined it would feel like this. I never imagined how I would feel having to see you at my breakfast table for what could be the last time.
I do not know everything that has happened to you, even though I wish I could take it all back, but I do know you have been wrongfully scorned. I do not expect you to even think of returning my feelings, and I accept that, but I could not let you even think of leaving Avonlea without knowing you’ve left such an impression in your wake.
You and Johnny are it for me, Anne. I only ask that you not let this come between us when you visit.
Yours,
Gilbert
With her heart beating so loud she couldn’t hear her own thoughts, Anne shot up. She looked at Johnny and found him still asleep. Without any sort of plan in her head, she ran out the door, pins slipping from her hair. Anne barrelled down the stairs, barely managing to keep herself upright, her heart in her throat. She bypassed the kitchen and flung open the front door, skidding out onto the porch. She just barely jerked herself to a stop at the top of the stairs, gripping her letter in her hand, when she noticed she wasn’t alone just outside Green Gables.
“Gilbert,” Anne breathed, chest heaving, as she looked down at an equally out of breath Gilbert at the bottom of the stairs.
“I was a coward,” he gasped, hair in disarray and tie crooked. He had his hat in his hand, knuckles white from the grip.
“What?”
“I was a coward,” Gilbert repeated. “For writing you that letter. Instead of telling you to your face.”
“Did Bash tell you that?” Anne asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Yes,” Gilbert admitted, taking a half step forward. He could not read the look on Anne’s face as he stared up at her and wondered if he’d ever be able to take a full breath again.
“Did you mean it?”
“Of course.”
“You can’t.”
Gilbert frowned. “I can’t?”
Anne shook her head. “I… I’m just… just an orphan, Gilbert. An unwed mother. I have nothing to my name but a… a b-bastard child.”
“He can’t be a bastard if he’s mine,” Gilbert said plainly.
“You can’t mean that,” Anne struggled to say, cheeks flushing. “You… you’re going to be a doctor, Gilbert. This town… this town won’t accept that…”
“They don’t have to know. We can keep up the lie, pretend to start courting later. We can leave, go somewhere new, where no one knows anything about us,” Gilbert suggested desperately.
“Your family…”
“You’re my family too.”
“But…”
“It’s too good to be true?” Gilbert guessed softly, watching as Anne bit her lip against the tears forming in her eyes.
“It always is, Gil,” Anne gasped.
“It doesn’t have to be. Just this once,” he promised. “Stay. With me. With us.”
Against her better judgement, and all her life experiences, Anne nodded.
Suddenly, Gilbert bounded up the front stairs of Green Gables and she was in his arms before she could blink. Her hands gripped onto him, unable to see a future in which she let go. One hand held her waist over her corset as the other slid into her falling hair. Before she knew it, Anne was being kissed in a way she previously thought only happened in the books she read as a girl, hiding in the dark.
Anne made her way back into the Green Gables’ kitchen, feeling lighter than ever before. She had to pinch herself to believe that this was happening to her and wasn’t just in a dream or a childhood storybook. She would have wasted away with a book in her lap had she been allowed, once upon a time. Back when she believed that those adventures and romances she read about could happen to her too. It wasn’t long before she was dissuaded of those ideas, and given a harsh splash of reality when she dared hope again later on. But now… surely this was different… Gilbert had to be different.
With the letter still clutched in her hand, Anne almost walked straight past Marilla sitting at the table, writing what looked to be a letter or a list.
“I’ll start on darning those socks, Marilla, unless you want me to do something more urgent,” Anne said, trying to bring her feet back to the ground. She slid the paper in her hand into her apron pocket, finding it difficult to keep a straight face. She had to clasp her hands together, clenching them really, to keep her mind from floating away from her. Anne knew she was distracted when, after a few moments’ silence, she realized Marilla looked more stern than she had ever seen her. “Marilla?”
“Sit down, Anne,” Marilla instructed, looking back down at the paper in front of her but writing nothing.
Anne frowned, her stomach tightening as she sat, unsure as to how she could have done something wrong so soon upon moving in. She started to say something, maybe to defend herself, when Marilla looked up again.
“I saw that Gilbert stopped by,” she said flatly, not one to beat around the bush.
Anne froze, feeling as if she had just been doused with cold water. In her sudden jubilation, it hadn’t occurred to her that someone could have seen their embrace.
“Miss Cuthbert,” she began, voice small.
“Just Marilla is fine,” Marilla said curtly before removing her glasses. “I don’t believe I should call you ‘Mrs. Shirley’ anymore anyway. Am I correct?”
Anne bit her lip so hard it turned white. She felt a strange urge to flee even though she knew such a cowardly act wouldn’t help her, not in this situation and especially not with a woman like Marilla Cuthbert. She took a shaking breath, blinking her eyes dry to not look as if she was trying to procure undue sympathy… despite having done that for months already.
“No,” she whispered.
“You have kept yourself to yourself while in Avonlea,” Marilla said. “And I can’t begrudge you that. But, in my day at least, I would expect a young widow to handle herself better. Differently. Unless things have changed since I was your age.”
“No,” Anne said when it appeared like Marilla wanted a response.
“I thought not,” Marilla said plainly. “Now, Matthew and I have opened our home for strangers in the past, and we did not have a pleasant experience. I had hoped I could trust the judgment of Gilbert Blythe, and I haven’t lost that hope yet… However, I do need to know who I have in my home. Especially since I was correct in my belief that I knew the Blythe family well enough to know of any far-away relations.”
Anne took a deep breath at Marilla’s firm words, knowing an answer was required of her.
“My name is Anne Shirley. I am not a widow, nor have I ever been married,” Anne said softly, her hands gripping her skirts to stop them from shaking.
“Are you from Alberta?”
Anne shook her head.
“Where are you from, Anne?”
“Nova Scotia,” she said. “My parents died when I was… younger than Johnny. A… a few years ago I found out they were from Scotland, though, but I don’t know much else. I… I lived with a few families when I was younger. Mainly helping them with their children—”
“Just a child yourself?” Marilla interrupted.
Anne lifted a shoulder into a shrug.
“I spent most of my childhood at the asylum. I had… heard of Avonlea, although however I imagined it back then could never hold a candle to the real thing. But I believed it to be a wonderful place, so I made my way here after I turned eighteen. I ran out of money in Charlottetown,” Anne sighed.
“Is that where you met Gilbert?” Marilla asked.
Anne shook her head.
“I didn’t meet Gilbert until… well, until I was kicked out of where I was living and working. Because I went into labor with Johnny. Gilbert found me.”
“And he brought you to Avonlea?”
“I had nowhere else to go,” Anne whispered, her eyes welling again.
“And… Johnny’s father…?”
Anne couldn’t stop the tears from slipping down her splotchy cheeks, her shaking hand not helping much as she tried to wipe them away.
“I don’t think he was from the island,” Anne managed through the lump in her throat, her eyes falling to the table. “He left as soon as I told him I was pregnant.”
“Okay,” Marilla sighed, reaching over to grasp Anne’s hand.
“He’s different, isn’t he, Marilla?” Anne gasped out, finding it harder to get her words out.
“Johnny’s—”
Anne shook her head, a few tendrils of hair slipping further from her bun. “No. Gilbert.”
Marilla looked at the young woman before her, looking even younger with the tears and the pain and the fear in her eyes.
“I think that man proved himself the moment he brought you home,” Marilla said.
“He said he wants Johnny to be his own,” Anne whispered, aborted sobs escaping her throat. She looked at this woman before her and clung hard to the first mother-figure she had ever had. “What kind of man would do that, Marilla?”
“A good one, I think,” Marilla said, looking moved by the raw emotion emitting from Anne. It was unimaginable for her, this life young Anne must have endured. She felt herself hoping, for Anne’s sake alone, that she was right about John Blythe’s son. At that thought, Marilla had to ask, “Is that why you chose that name?”
Annie sniffed. “Johnny’s?”
“Did you choose that name for Gilbert?” Marilla guessed.
“Dellie named him,” Anne said softly, shaking her head. “I… I couldn’t choose. I… I always found it… romantic to name a child after someone. In honor of a person you admire, maybe. But I had no one when I arrived here. And I couldn’t just make something up. I let Dellie choose and I liked the sound of John. I thought it wouldn’t matter if that name belonged to someone else. I wouldn’t be here long, anyway.”
Marilla looked across the table at Anne, seeing a girl who lived her life in temporary measures with nothing permanent and stable.
“He was a good man. He would be proud of such a namesake,” Marilla said, her words causing Anne’s eyes to overflow with tears again.
Later, after Anne had composed herself, she walked into the kitchen to help Marilla begin dinner. She felt both heavy from exhaustion and light from the relief she felt in Marilla knowing the truth, and seemingly treating her no different. It was the best reaction she could have hoped for, especially from someone she had come to respect so much.
Anne smiled at Matthew, who had recently begun leaving the evenings to his farmhand, and settled Johnny in his highchair.
“I’ll get out of your way,” Matthew started, closing the ledger he had been writing in.
“No, no. You’re just fine right there. Maybe you can give Johnny a head start on his sums,” she teased as she tied her hair back into a braid from where it had long since fallen down, ready to tackle the basket of vegetables on the sideboard.
“He is a bright one,” Matthew said, his serious tone making Anne smile like he usually did.
“A mother can hope,” Anne said pleasantly.
“Marilla told me,” Matthew said bluntly, making Anne drop the potato she had lifted to inspect.
“Oh.”
“Just so you know,” Matthew said gruffly, neither one of them looking at each other. “That I know, I mean.”
“I’m sorry,” Anne whispered.
“What for?” Matthew asked, looking honestly confused.
Anne shrugged, eyes on the potatoes. “I don’t know,” she mumbled honestly. “I feel like that should disappoint you…”
“Well. As long as he treats you right. While courting and such,” Matthew said, looking like he’d rather talk about anything else as he poked through his ledger.
Anne’s brow furrowed and she opened her mouth to correct him, to say she was more worried about his reaction to her having a child out of wedlock. But, as he watched Matthew hand Johnny a spoon to play with, she realized he knew exactly what she was talking about and meant what he said.
Twisting her mouth against a smile, she began peeling potatoes.
“I hope so,” she murmured in agreement.
A few days later, after shifts in Charlottetown that felt like they lasted ages, Gilbert Blythe knocked on the kitchen door of Green Gables.
He shifted on his feet. He couldn’t remember feeling this way as a teen, surrounded by notice boards and tittering girls, but he decidedly felt none of the confidence he should at his age, long past his years of awkward adolescence. His heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest and he was sure it would, despite knowing that to be medically implausible. It seemed all reason left his head when planning to come face to face with Anne Shirley.
Gilbert flinched when the door suddenly opened, almost dropping the flowers he gripped in his hand. When it was Marilla Cuthbert that stood on the other side, stern persona directed straight at him, he became nervous for other reasons.
While Gilbert was away at Doctor Ward’s, Anne had left him a note with Bash. She informed him that the Cuthberts knew the truth, so there was no need to keep up the lie in front of them anymore. It was both a relief and an anxiety-inducer. While he was glad Anne could fully be herself with the siblings she had seemingly imprinted on, it also meant they were probably aware of his true intentions in coming there today.
As he pulled off his hat under Marilla’s gaze, Gilbert’s eyes jumped behind her when he saw movement. However, it was only Matthew stepping into the kitchen.
“I wanted to see if Anne and Johnny would join me for a walk,” Gilbert managed to say, suddenly feeling as if he were calling on a girl’s parents, asking for permission to walk her home from school.
There then came the sound of heavy footsteps, signalling the appearance of Anne. She carried a basket of laundry under one arm and Johnny in the other, making Matthew jerk forward as if to help her.
“I’ve got it, Matthew,” Anne assured him, looking pleased with the attention. She then noticed Gilbert at the door and froze. “Oh.”
“Anne,” Gilbert said, her name leaving his mouth without his permission.
She was wearing one of her old dresses that she had brought with her to Avonlea. It fit better than it did when she first arrived, but was still rather worn. Gilbert didn’t think he’d ever seen her look better, even if her hair was in a messy braid. Especially if her hair was in a messy braid.
“Gilbert would like you and Johnny to join him for a walk,” Marilla said, breaking their locked eyes.
“I was about to—” Anne started, gesturing to the laundry as she set the basket on the table.
“It can wait,” Marilla said, surprising Gilbert and making Anne flush.
Anne looked back to Gilbert, still standing like a dope in the doorway. She found the way he looked at her, gaze heavy on her skin, both thrilled her and made her nervous. But she wasn’t scared, which surprised her.
“Alright,” she breathed, jumping slightly when Marilla was suddenly at her side, slipping Johnny out of her arm.
“Get changed,” Marilla said, leaving no room for argument, directing Anne to stumble back up the stairs.
A few moments later, as Anne stood blankly in the middle of her room, having no idea where to begin, Marilla knocked on her door and let herself in.
“Undo your braid,” she said, setting a vase of flowers onto Anne’s vanity.
The sight of the flowers didn’t help in spurring her into movement.
“I’ve never received flowers before,” Anne breathed.
“Something tells me this won’t be the last time,” Marilla said, a twinkle in her eye giving her away. She ferried Anne forward to sit at her vanity, her face even with the reflection of the flowers in the mirror. Her hands expertly untied Anne’s hair, gently shaking the braided tendrils apart, and began pinning it up. Anne barely noticed Marilla attempting to copy the looks she had seen some of Gilbert’s old schoolmates wear, instead of the old-fashioned bun she had worn every day since she was Anne’s age.
“Thank you,” Anne said simply, meeting Marilla’s eyes in the mirror as she came out of her daze.
Marilla waved her off but Anne knew that Marilla knew how important this was to her.
Before she knew it, Anne was dressed, not in her Sunday best but close, and walking onto the porch with Johnny on her hip.
“I brought Dellie’s old stroller,” Gilbert said, gesturing to the bottom of the stairs where a white stroller sat, blankets inside.
Anne hid her smile as she stepped down the stairs, ignoring Gilbert’s proffered hand. She then had to turn to accommodate Johnny’s obvious desire as he squealed and started reaching for Gilbert.
Anne could only watch as Gilbert beamed, smoothly plucking Johnny out of her arms and into his, responding to his baby babbling with serious nods while walking him towards the awaiting stroller.
“I see I’ve missed a lot in my few days in Charlottetown,” Gilbert teased, his smile leaving Anne breathless as he kissed her baby’s head before slipping him into the stroller and gesturing for them to make their way.
“When did you arrive back in Avonlea?” Anne asked, beginning to push the stroller as Gilbert started to walk, at her side.
Gilbert made a show of looking at the watch tucked into his vest pocket, making Anne notice he was wearing his usual Sunday attire.
“However long ago it took for me to get from the train station, home to change, and to Green Gables?”
“Gilbert!”
“I couldn’t wait,” Gilbert said simply, enjoying the way Anne’s cheeks went pink. “Plus, I figured we needed to talk…”
Anne nodded, biting her lip.
They stayed silent as they walked until Anne found them in woods she had not explored before, wildflowers enrobing the ground on either side of the pathway.
“I hate to say it,” Gilbert sighed, stopping Anne with a light touch to her elbow. “I thought it over to and from Charlottetown. I fear we should keep our courting a secret, for just a little longer. Until… Until you can remove this ring without censure…”
Anne bit her lip, looking up at Gilbert through her eyelashes as they stood, a lone trio in the forest.
“Is that what we’re doing?” she asked softly. “Courting?”
“If that is what you want,” Gilbert said, unable to stop himself from reaching out to brush his fingers against the few curls that artfully fell from her hairdo.
“Is it what you want?” Anne couldn’t help but ask.
Gilbert smiled. “I cannot imagine wanting anything more,” he said, the honesty in his voice making her cheeks color again.
Anne looked down at the ring on her finger. “I suppose you’ll want this back at some point…”
“I have another I think you’ll like more,” Gilbert said, his eyes unable to leave Anne as her gaze shot up to him, eyes wide. Sensing some of her anxiety, he added, “When we’re ready.”
Anne’s hand moved without Gilbert seeing. The pinch on her wrist hurt more than ever before, her senses feeling almost heightened in this moment. She wasn’t dreaming, which had to be true since she hadn’t had such a fanciful dream since she was a child.
With a smile, Gilbert stepped away to give them room to breathe. He slid to the stroller, taking the lead as he continued their way into the forest, using his time wisely to make faces as Johnny.
Anne, appreciative, took her place back beside Gilbert as they strolled. Her mind was half on the beautiful nature scenes around her, half on the man she walked with that had to be out of his mind. Since his declaration of his feelings a few days ago, Anne had thought of little else. She was happier than she had ever been before, but also terrified. She tried not to show it, she didn’t want Gilbert to think she was scared of him , but this whole ordeal was frighteningly new to her.
It wasn’t that Anne didn’t believe Gilbert and his promises. She just could not imagine a world in which a man like him truly meant them, but, somehow, she was living in one.
She still felt the beautiful words in his letter, now safely tucked away in her vanity drawer, were too good to be true. But she also had his actions to back them up. Her time spent living in the same house as Gilbert both felt too short and like a lifetime. But watching him just exist, alone and with his family, showed her what kind of man he was: kind, intelligent, honest, resilient. Anne couldn’t see him raising a hand to her in anger, nor could she see him leaving her, alone and without hope. He knew what he was getting into, didn’t he? She had no secrets from him, he had seen her at her worst. She could only hope that he really thought this through.
Anne broke out of her thoughts when she realized they had come across a building in a clearing.
“What is this?”
“The schoolhouse,” Gilbert explained.
“Is this where Dellie attends?” Anne asked, perking up as she studied the building, quiet and empty on this airy spring Saturday.
Gilbert shifted to face the building with her, standing closer than before with his hand barely touching her back.
“Where Johnny will attend, if we stay,” he said softly, almost whispering from over her shoulder.
Anne stopped breathing.
The very idea, of her little boy walking into a place such as this, was something she had never dared to dream of. It was so far beyond her reach, beyond the scope of her imagination that had been limited and squashed throughout the years. Anne had done her best, as a child, to learn and expand her mind with what little she was given. She had watched girls float in and out of the college in Charlottetown, sleeves puffed and books aplenty, and had never been more envious of anything else in her life. It was her biggest regret, after falling for Johnny’s father’s lies and falling pregnant. She hadn’t seen a way for her little boy to ever be given access to what so many children took for granted.
And this life that Gilbert was offering her, for her and her son, was too much.
“Anne?” Gilbert frowned, looking concerned as he reached out at the sight of her tears.
She could only shake her head as her tears spilled over and her gasps escaped her tightening throat.
“Anne,” Gilbert sighed, not hesitating to pull her into his arms as she began to cry against his chest.
Anne could only hold onto him as her shoulders shook, unable to stop her emotions from overflowing. Being held like this, in Gilbert’s strong arms with him whispering soothing words, was foreign to her. But it was nice and she didn’t want it to stop.
“Here, let’s sit down,” Gilbert suggested after a while, pulling back slightly to cup Anne’s cheek so he could see her face. He gave her a gentle smile, his gaze never hesitant as it fell on her. He pressed a kiss to her forehead before carefully leading her to the schoolhouse steps, parking the stroller beside them as he helped Anne sit before taking his place beside her. “Are you alright?”
Anne nodded, making an attempt to wipe her cheeks before a handkerchief was thrust into her hand. She gave him a wobbly smile, blush indiscernible from her splotchy cheeks as she used it.
“Sorry,” she mumbled.
“Nothing to be sorry for,” Gilbert assured her, brazenly taking her hand and pressing another kiss to her knuckles, making her smile shyly. “Would you like to talk about it or would you prefer a distraction?”
“Distraction,” Anne said, huffing out a laugh, smiling self-deprecatingly.
Gilbert reached into his jacket and pulled out a folded page torn from a magazine.
“I found this left on the train,” he shrugged. “It looks like job listings, not the same ones we’ve been seeing for a while. I know you have no interest in becoming a farmhand still.”
Anne shook her head at his teasing, taking the paper from him and unfolding it. She silently skimmed through the postings, feeling the warmth of Gilbert reading from over her shoulder. She flipped the page over and stopped.
“Short story contest?” Gilbert leaned in to read further. His eyes moved on but went back to Anne when he realized she hadn’t. “Are you interested? I didn’t know you were a writer…”
Anne shook her head quickly. “It’s… it’s been a while,” she muttered.
Easily convinced, Gilbert grinned. “Send something in, then,” he said simply.
“I couldn’t…”
“You never know if you don’t try,” Gilbert said, nudging Anne’s shoulder with his.
“You have too much faith, Gilbert,” Anne grumbled.
“Seems I have to make up for what you’re lacking,” he countered. He slipped the paper from her hand and set about carefully tearing out the contest advertisement, keeping it out of her reach so she couldn’t snatch it back.
“Gil—”
“We can read the rules later,” Gilbert said, tucking the ad away into his jacket and smirking childishly at Anne’s childish eye roll.
The trio took the long way back to Green Gables and Anne couldn’t find it in herself to protest. When they were as deep in the woods as she had ever been, Anne slid her hand into Gilbert’s arm, enjoying the simple thrill of feeling like a true courting couple, even just for the moment. It was hard being alone like this, surrounded by the beauty of nature that she could actually take the time to enjoy, while also being wary and guarding her heart. Anne had been scorned before but felt herself slipping again. It seems so much work to try to do anything other than give in to the feelings pouring out of Gilbert with the way he looked at her.
When the trees thinned and they were more likely to run across something other than the nimble creatures of the forest, Anne and Gilbert reluctantly parted, putting the proprietary amount of space between them as they walked. However, this did not stop the first person they encountered from seeing right through them.
“Why does he look like that,” Anne muttered to Gilbert as they stood at the edge of the Blythe/Lacroix property where Bash was finishing a mild repair on the fence.
Gilbert sighed deeply, leaning against the stroller bar he was pushing as if he needed the support, albeit emotionally.
“Well, well, well,” Bash sing-songed, his face splitting with a grin.
Anne’s cheeks pinked. “Are you quite alright,” she began evasively.
“I am positively perfect, Miss Shirley,” Bash said cheerfully, his smile growing, which seemed impossible, at the unimpressed look on his brother’s face. “I couldn’t be better.”
“Bash—”
“Nope!” Bash interrupted brightly, pushing past Gilbert to lift Johnny out of the stroller to return the baby’s delighted smiles at the sight of him. “I won’t allow you to ruin this for me, Blythe. After all that moaning and complaining I endured? And I was right?!”
Anne’s eyebrow raised as she watched Gilbert’s cheeks begin to match hers. She felt a warmth in her chest that she hoped never dissipated.
“And you, Miss Shirley,” Bash said, turning on her and making her eyes widen at the attention. “I trust Mr. Blythe here was a perfect gentleman on your stroll?”
Anne couldn’t help but giggle. “Yes,” she assured, Bash’s grin shifting from teasing to pleased, but no less bright, as Gilbert rolled his eyes.
“Good. Just let me know if I need to have a talk with him,” Bash said, leaning forward to speak to her slyly even though Gilbert could hear every word. “I mean it.”
And Anne believed him. She had to look away, biting back a smile, for she feared she would tear up if she continued to look at Bash. She may not have been in the particular mess she was in now, hiding behind a lie to get by with her secrets, if she had had someone like Bash looking out for her before this. But, in a different life, she may not have even had the chance to meet Bash and wouldn’t her life by sorrier for it.
When she looked up again, Bash just gave her a knowing wink and then started up towards the house, taking her baby with him so they had no choice but to follow.
“Now, did Blythe tell you my mother arrived yesterday, or did he spend all afternoon mooning over your pretty face?” Bash asked, leaving Gilbert to splutter defensively as Anne just helplessly blush.
Once at the house, after Anne argued that she could only stay for a moment, they were almost barreled over by a blur of periwinkle.
“Miss Anne!” Delphine cried, throwing herself at Anne’s legs.
“Hello, Dellie,” Anne chuckled, leaning down to give the girl the hug she was after.
“You’ve been gone forever,” Delphine complained, dragging Anne inside the kitchen.
“Only a few days,” Anne defended before giving in to Delphine’s pout. “Maybe I could come to dinner sometime soon.”
“Today!”
“Don’t go inviting guests when you aren’t the one cooking,” an accented voice chastised, making Delphine wrinkle her nose at Anne. An older woman walked into the kitchen, much fuller than when she had walked out, and her eyes went straight to the baby in Bash’s arms. “Don’t tell me you had another one while I was gone.”
Bash snorted at the way his mother eyed Johnny who was now tired of Bash and reaching for Gilbert again.
“Mother, this is Anne Shirley and her boy Johnny,” he explained, passing the baby along like a hot potato. “Anne, this is my mother, Hazel Lacroix.”
“Pleasure to finally meet you,” Anne said sincerely, darting forward to shake Hazel’s hand.
Hazel took her time regarding Anne, not reacting the same to a strange white woman in her kitchen like she would have when she first arrived up north.
“Likewise,” she eventually said. “Is that your blanket in my room?”
“Oh! I— well, I made it for you… I thought of it as a bit of a thank you, for letting me use your room… even though you, well, weren’t aware,” Anne stumbled.
Hazel just nodded, looking a touch more agreeable, if Anne were to hazard a guess. “Well. I am not prepared for guests for tonight. But perhaps later in the week.”
“That sounds lovely,” Anne said immediately, lighting up and drawing Gilbert’s attention quicker than a moth to the flame.
“I think someone needs a nap,” Bash pointed out and shuttled Delphine away to leave Anne to fuss over Johnny and Gilbert to fuss over them both as he got them back to their new home.
Anne was poking at the plum sauce on the stove, unsure if it matched exactly how Marilla had described it, when there was a knock on the door.
Anne moved the pot onto the table and wiped her hands on her apron, wondering if Mrs. Lynde was back already with more news about one of her son’s wives or whatever she had been talking Marilla’s ear off about the other day. To her surprise, however, Gilbert was on the other side of the kitchen door when she opened it.
“Gil!”
“Anne,” Gilbert grinned, stepping forward to kiss her cheek in greeting. “Where’s Johnny?”
“Um…” She pointed, looking rather flabbergasted at Gilbert as he let himself in and went straight to the baby playing on a blanket in the corner.
“Do you have anything else important to do today?” Gilbert asked unceremoniously as he picked up Johnny, taking and kissing the little hands thrust into his face.
“I finished mending that quilt for Mrs. Gillis…”
“Anything else?”
“Well, I was going to work on a few things for Johnny—”
“And write, maybe?” Gilbert asked pointedly with a grin.
Anne huffed. “Yes, I suppose.”
“Great. I’ll take Johnny, then,” Gilbert said easily, reaching down to pick up Johnny’s favorite toy (a toy fox Gilbert found at a shop in Charlottetown).
“What?” Anne gasped, even more confounded than before.
“To give you some quiet time to write,” Gilbert explained, stepping forward to take Anne’s hand with his free one. “You won’t be able to concentrate while keeping an eye on him too.”
“But…”
“Just for a few hours. Hazel is making her famous stew, you can come over for dinner and pick him up then.”
Anne frowned, looking a bit distressed. She wracked her brain for a time she had been more than a room apart from Johnny since his birth and came up empty.
“He’s safe with me, I promise,” Gilbert said, lifting her hand in his to press a kiss to her knuckles.
Anne bit her lip, very unsure of this idea, but Gilbert allowed her the few moments of silence she needed to think it over. She was still wary about the whole writing contest thing, despite how excited Gilbert was about it, and was doubly anxious about letting it take her away from her son. But if her time spent in Avonlea had taught her anything, it was that maybe things could turn out differently than expected.
“Fine,” she huffed, pulling away from Gilbert and crossing her arms over her chest. “Take him away.”
Gilbert chuckled at her dramatics. “Come on, little fox, before your mommy changes her mind,” he said to Johnny, kissing his cheek loudly.
After they left, and after Anne forced herself not to cry, she went up to her room. The empty house, all occupants but her away for the afternoon, felt too large. She had never lived completely on her own and while the idea had its merits, especially when she remembered trying to fall asleep in her room at the brothel, Anne believed she would find it lonely, in the end.
But the quiet, only the sounds of the trees and the birds outside permeating the silence, allowed her thoughts to take over.
Anne flung open her window, the smell of the blossoming tree swaying beside her wafting in and making her smile. She moved her side table to now rest in front of the window and sat her chair before it. With a light breeze shifting her curtains, Anne gave in to the urge to write.
The story that poured out of her pen, a sly gift from Gilbert, took her a few weeks to complete. Gilbert had abducted her child a few times since the first, but she still had her duties at Green Gables and her jobs from around town that required her time. But between all her responsibilities, with a few extra nudges from a surprisingly supportive Matthew, Anne wrote.
Once she felt the short story was finished, after many revisions and ink spills, she had just enough time to send it off before the contest deadline. Anne now viewed it as a means to practice, to get back in touch with her imaginative side that she had long lost to real life. She had no expectations for the contest itself but did look forward to reading the winning tale once it was printed in the magazine at some point in the future.
With the ink dry and the papers folded neatly, Anne addressed the envelope with clear penmanship before sealing it. Taking the envelope downstairs, she found Marilla conveniently dressed to leave the house.
“Is flour all we need in the pantry?” Marilla asked, glasses on the tip of her nose as she looked at the list in her hand.
“And brown sugar,” Anne added. “Oh, Marilla, do you think you could drop this at the post office on your way? I already have the stamp—”
“Yes, yes,” Marilla said, taking the envelope. She then stopped, squinting at the top corner. “What does that say? Who is ‘C. Cuthbert’?”
Anne blushed, pressing her mouth together. “A… nom de plume? A pen name, for my story… I thought it prudent to not put ‘Mrs. Shirley’ in writing…”
“What is the ‘c’ for?” Marilla asked curtly.
“Cordelia,” Anne muttered before perking up. “Isn’t it a beautiful name? I may have used it if I had had a girl… Much better than ‘Anne’ at least.”
“‘Anne’ is a perfectly sensible name,” Marilla rebuked before putting the envelope and her grocery list in her purse. “Now. Flour and brown sugar. Do we have enough white?”
Anne just nodded, watching Marilla leave, taking her words with her.
“Anne, can you come down here for a moment?”
Anne frowned at Marilla’s voice calling from down the stairs. She dropped the baby clothes she had been folding and bolted downstairs.
“The turnips haven’t burned, have they?” she gasped, flying into the kitchen and then stumbling to a halt when she found one more person in the room than she expected.
“Good evening, Anne,” Gilbert said, a secretive smile on his face as he stood by Marilla, a mysterious basket at his feet.
“I thought you were having dinner with us tomorrow…”
“I am. I’m here for something else,” Gilbert said, obviously enjoying the bewildered look on Anne’s face.
“And what is that…?” she asked slowly.
“A date.”
“A date?” she exclaimed.
Gilbert’s smile was now nearing smirk territory. “Yes. A secret one, but a date nonetheless.”
Anne still looked like she didn’t understand what was going on. They had gone for plenty of walks since declaring their feelings for each other, her strolls through the meadows of Avonlea with Gilbert and Johnny becoming her favorite parts of her week, but she had never been on a date before. She knew they had to do things differently, still under the shadow of her lies, and didn’t mind continuing that for however long they needed to. So this new development was unexpected.
“You two run along now, the sun will be setting soon,” Marilla said, reminding Anne she was there and looking like she was in on this whole thing.
“But… the turnips,” Anne protested weakly.
“Are just fine,” Marilla said, starting to herd Anne along toward the door.
“Johnny,” she protested, stronger, turning towards the little boy babbling in his high chair.
“Will also be fine. I think we can handle him for a few hours,” Marilla asserted, getting Anne to Gilbert so he could take her hand and lead her through the door.
Before Anne knew it, she was walking through a warm summer evening with Gilbert Blythe, with no clue as to their final destination but finally just allowing it to happen.
Gilbert knew they wouldn’t encounter anyone, not where they were going and at this time of day, so he kept Anne’s hand tucked in his as they made their way towards the cliff overlooking the seat and the setting sun. He smiled at the sound of amazement Anne made as they arrived, silenting watching the sunset catch in her hair and reflect in her ocean eyes.
Anne looked very pleased as Gilbert started to set up what was, now, obviously a picnic dinner. He laid a blanket across the grass and pulled out enough food for two from his basket. Anne felt more relaxed than she had in a long time, simply enjoying the sunset and the food with better company than she could ever ask for. She was reminded of how easy it was to talk to Gilbert about anything and everything. He listened, and argued, but also seemed to treat her thoughts and words as equal to his own, and Anne wondered if she could use her prayers tonight to ask how she had managed to find herself beside a man like this.
When they were left in the dark, the sun only lightening the shade of blue on the horizon, Anne expected them to leave once they finished the dessert Gilbert had admitted had been provided by Marilla. Instead, Gilbert turned to her.
“Anne, I wanted to bring up something with you,” he began, appearing nervous.
“Okay,” Anne said, tilting her head as she sat up on the blanket.
“Have you considered adoption?” Gilbert asked. He quickly added, at Anne’s alarmed expression, “Me! Me adopting. Johnny, that is.”
“Oh,” Anne blinked.
“I expect it would take some work, I can’t say I know anyone who has done it,” Gilbert admitted.
“You… you want to do that?” Anne whispered, her heart thudding in her chest.
“Of course,” Gilbert said, reaching for her hand with both of his. “Even… well, even before I could admit to myself how I felt about you, Johnny has always felt like a part of my family. Why shouldn’t it be done officially?”
“Because— because he’s not—” Anne broke off at Gilbert’s sudden, easy smile.
“You of all people should know how little biology matters, Anne.”
Tears blurred her vision and she looked down, trying to blink them away. When a harsh thought came to mind, she looked back up at him, frowning.
“What if we can’t?” she whispered, fear replacing her tears. “What if we… we can’t, Gilbert? I’ve heard it involves a judge, Gil. We can’t lie to a judge about a dead husband that doesn’t exist. But if we tell the truth… What if he— Johnny’s— his biological father, what if he has to be involved?”
Gilbert’s eyebrows fell with his frown. “Do you know where he is?”
Anne shrugged but shook her head. “I probably couldn’t find him even if I tried.”
“Do you know for a fact that he wants nothing to do with Johnny?” Gilbert asked, tone heavy.
“He said he didn’t,” Anne said, her eyes falling to the ground. “But I… I can’t say for sure… not regarding his motives.”
“Then we don’t involve him or the law,” Gilbert said all at once.
“So you don’t want to do it?” Anne whispered, looking disappointed despite the suggestion being so new to her.
Gilbert shook his head slowly, but not in answer. His gaze fell to the dark field behind them, brows furrowed in thought.
Then, his tone turning somber in its seriousness, he said, “Or we could just make me his father.”
Anne started to shake her head, not understanding, but he leaned forward to continue.
“I delivered him, Anne. I filled out his birth certificate. Doctor Ward didn’t even look at it that day,” Gilbert said, his voice picking up speed in his urgency. “My name is at the bottom… why can’t I just put it at the top, too?”
“Forge it?” Anne gasped, jaw dropping.
Gilbert just shrugged. “Why risk involving a judge? And it’s not like anyone will question it, not once we’re married. His name already fits, conveniently enough, he won’t ever know the difference.”
Anne could only stare at Gilbert, her eyes adjusting to the fading light and missing the details in his face that were beginning to disappear without the sun. Her heart was still beating fast but Gilbert looked so sure.
“You would do that?” she whispered, half in disbelief and half in wonder.
“Of course,” Gilbert said, squeezing her hand. “I’d do anything for Johnny. And for you.”
Almost before the words could fully leave his mouth, Anne was leaning forward, hand on the back of Gilbert’s neck to pull him to her. It would take her days to form the correct words to express to Gilbert what he meant to her. But, for right now, a kiss was all she had.
She suddenly pulled away, jerking her hand from his. Without letting him speak, she pulled the ring off her left hand and held it out to him.
“Here.”
“... what?” He fumbled with the ring she dropped into his hand.
“I don’t want to be a widow anymore,” Anne said, a slightly hysterical giggle escaping her. “I want to walk into church on your arm, like any other courting couple.”
“Are you sure…?”
“Yes.”
“They’ll still see you as a widow—”
“That’s alright. As long as they can see me with you, too,” Anne said decisively.
“No more secret dates?” Gilbert grinned.
“I didn’t say that,” Anne said with a teasing smile.
For her first outing with an empty finger, Anne and Johnny met Gilbert in Charlottetown.
With his shift ending, Anne arrived at Doctor Ward’s office to have him give Johnny his check-up. Gilbert used this as a distraction so he could as safely as possible sneak into the office records and make his minor adjustments to Johnny’s paperwork. In no time at all, Johnny was officially John Shirley Blythe. Gilbert could only hope that Doctor Ward continued to leave the paperwork load to him so no one needed to know what he had just done until it didn’t matter anymore.
With a clean bill of health and a new name, Johnny left the office with Anne on Gilbert’s arm, making their way through Charlottetown and the throng of people that paid them no mind. Anne felt nervous, from Gilbert’s foray with forgery, but excited. She wasn’t sure what reaction she would get from anyone that recognized her or Gilbert, obviously together, but her stomach filled with butterflies just at the idea of being her true self, as much as it was possible, for the first time in so long.
Besides passing Mrs. Boulder, who did give them a second look, the only person who spoke to them while out was someone Anne didn’t even know.
“Gilbert!”
The trio stopped just as they passed a teahouse, a lovely little place Anne had always looked at longingly whenever she ventured into this part of town, which seemed so long ago now.
“Please say that’s you,” a voice muttered behind them before a woman appeared. She looked like a woman out of one of her stories, to Anne, with her lovely raven hair and a dress so unlike everyone else’s that it must be beyond new. When she saw Anne, and then Johnny, she straightened up, looking as if she just remembered her manners.
“I apologize!” she said, sounding regal to Anne’s untrained ears. “I did not mean to interrupt, how rude of me.”
“Quite alright,” Gilbert said, looking amused. He glanced at Anne. “Diana, this is Anne Shirley. Anne, please meet Diana Barry. We attended school together, in the schoolhouse I showed you.”
“Lovely to meet you, Mrs. Shirley,” Diana said sincerely. “I have just returned from overseas but news of your arrival in Avonlea traveled far. I have heard nothing but wonderful things, I assure you.”
Anne felt her cheeks heat up and she had no idea what to say to this captivating woman who seemed to be Anne’s complete opposite, yet seemed so very nice.
“Was there something you needed help with, Diana?” Gilbert asked.
“I was going to implore you to join me for tea,” Diana said. “But you must be terribly busy.”
“No,” Anne said quickly before adding, “Unless you just wished to visit with Gilbert—”
“Not at all,” Diana said, looking thrilled. “Please, I would love to get to know you. This way I can catch up on all that I have missed and get out of tea with my mother at my aunt’s home.”
A smile escaped Anne’s nerves as she caught just enough of a spark to see that maybe this woman was something of a kindred spirit.
Which was how Anne found herself in a dream, having tea with a princess straight out of a fairytale. Later, she would thank Gilbert for being there, as he was the voice of reason that entertained Johnny throughout the meal and also reminded them that they had a train to catch after hours slipped away. But Anne herself could no more say how long they spent in the teahouse than she could recount all the numerous topics about which Anne and Diana had spoken.
Partway through the afternoon, Anne was listening in fascination to Diana’s Parisian tales, and how she had successfully evaded every man with which her mother tried to pair her, when Gilbert reached to slip an abandoned magazine off the table behind them. His companions were distracted enough that they did not notice how rude he was being as he skimmed the cover and then used one hand, the other occupied by a sleepy baby, to flip to a specific page.
“Anne?” Gilbert interrupted, eyes on the magazine.
Anne swallowed her mouthful of tea and turned to Gilbert. “Yes, dear?”
Gilbert’s eyes shot to her at the endearment before looking at the magazine again. “Do you know a ‘Cordelia Cuthbert’?” he asked nonchalantly.
Anne wrinkled her nose. “What are you—”
“Because she seems to have won a writing contest,” Gilbert said, one eyebrow raising as he held out the magazine, his grin getting away from him as soon as she gasped and snatched the magazine from him.
“Oh,” Anne breathed.
“Anne’s a writer,” Gilbert explained to Diana proudly. He watched, pleased, as Diana was sufficiently interested and gushed over Anne’s accomplishment, allowing for Anne to blush but talk about her process and how she had come up with her ideas. Gilbert knew she still didn’t think much of her own work, but hoped the reactions of her friends would change that. He’d sit in a teahouse, arms going numb from the baby, all day long if it meant seeing Anne’s confidence grow just a little.
“You’ll be off exploring on your own before we know it,” Anne chuckled, beaming down at Johnny as she held his hands and helped him take a step forward to stomp on a crunchy leaf. It was becoming just a touch too cold to spend too much time outside but Anne had never been good at dragging herself back inside when the fall air took on that beautifully crisp smell. She did scoop Johnny up, humming in response to his complaints, when a large group of people suddenly arrived at the Green Gables gate down the slope.
Anne propped Johnny on her hip, eyebrows raised, as Gilbert let his brigade towards her.
“And what is this?” Anne asked, her free hand going to her hip too.
“A surprise party,” Gilbert grinned.
“For whom?” Anne asked haughtily, looking behind Gilbert at the smirking group behind him (consisting of Bash, Delphine, Elijah, her newest bosom friend Diana, and even Mrs. Lacroix).
“Johnny, of course!”
“His birthday isn’t until tomorrow, Gil.”
“That’s why it’s a surprise.”
“He’s one, he doesn’t know what day it is,” Anne scoffed.
“Then it’s also a surprise for you,” Gilbert said, stepping forward and pulling her into a quick but brazen kiss that made her blush.
“Cake!” Delphine cried, breaking away from her father to sprint past Anne and into the house where she had become a frequent guest.
“I haven’t made the cake yet,” Anne sighed, her mouth threatening to twitch into a smile as Johnny began babbling to their guests as they followed Delphine inside.
“I’d worry about how good Gilbert is at keeping secrets, but all he seems to do is do nice things for you,” Bash muttered at Anne, making Anne snort inelegantly, as they entered the kitchen and found that Marilla and Matthew had already set out the food and presents Gilbert had snuck over.
“Gil…”
“And no need to worry about the cake,” Diana declared, producing a box from a basket and setting it on the table.
“Diana, that’s too much…”
“Well it’s for my favorite little boy in Avonlea and he deserves it,” Diana said definitively, plucking Johnny from Anne’s arms and proving just how attached she had gotten to the baby since they met a few months ago.
Anne just sighed but allowed herself to appreciate the people in this room that cared enough for her son to go through all this effort. It was a far cry from a year ago, what felt like a whole lifetime, when she was more alone than ever and bringing him into the world.
As the ‘party’, really just a larger-than-normal dinner plus cake Delphine and Johnny got all over their faces, wound down, Anne allowed Johnny to ‘open’ his presents a day early.
“Do you want to help him, Dellie?” Anne asked, handing over a small pile of presents that had grown from what Anne remembered (which she blamed her on impromptu party guests).
Gilbert slipped his arm around Anne’s shoulders as she sat beside him on the couch after they congregated into the Green Gables living room, most of the adults intermingling as they watched the two youngest open the few toys Johnny had been gifted. Anne looked over at Gilbert who gave her a smile, comfortable in this home with their family surrounding them. His eyes then suddenly darted over to the kids when Delphine made a surprised noise.
Anne looked over and saw Delphine looking into a tiny velvet bag.
“Oh, no, honey,” Anne darted forward in her seat, reaching out for whatever she was holding. “That looks much too small for him.”
Delphine turned her wide eyes to Anne and handed her the bag. She then glanced at her father who put his finger to his lips, though Anne missed it.
“What is it?” Diana asked, leaning forward but catching the way Marilla and Matthew exchanged a sly look.
“Something he will just put in his mouth,” Anne muttered absently as she upended the bag and watched a ring fall out into her open palm.
Diana made a noise behind her hand as Elijah muttered something under his breath to Bash who was shushing his mother to his detriment, Delphine gasped as if she hadn’t known this would happen, even though she did, and the Cuthberts shared a smile.
Anne just gaped at the ring in her hand, the green jewel catching the candlelight perfectly. She then looked up to find Gilbert had moved from beside her to kneel on one knee in front of the couch.
“Oh,” she breathed right as Johnny started babbling from Delphine’s lap, breaking the barely achieved silence and making the corner of Gilbert’s mouth twitch.
“Anne,” Gilbert started.
“ Oh ,” she squeaked.
Gilbert shifted on his knee, revealing the nerves that were at war with the smile threatening to take over his face despite his desire to stay serious.
“Anne,” Gilbert started again, reaching to take Anne’s hands in his as she stared at him with wide eyes. “I hope I don’t need to explain how I feel about you. I hope I show it to you every moment that we are together, every walk we take with our son and every time we argue over the reliability of the protagonist of whatever book you’re reading that day. But I will happily spend the rest of my life telling you, if you need to hear the words. Because I could never tire of looking into your beautiful eyes, Anne Shirley, and making sure you know how much I am in love with you. You have my heart, but I hope you will do me the honor of taking my hand. Will you marry me, Anne?”
Anne just gasped a breath through her tight throat, unbidden tears slipping down her cheeks. All she could think of was that Gilbert had to have gained access to her mind, for this was something she could only dream up before this moment.
“Was this the surprise part of the party?” Anne choked out before she could stop herself, making Bash bark out a laugh.
“I think you need to answer the question,” Matthew spoke up and Gilbert raised an eyebrow in agreement.
Anne blushed but leaned forward. “Yes,” she blurted, barely hearing the other occupants of the room clapping as she fell into a kiss that they had to break away from because they were both smiling too much. “I love you, too, Gilbert.”
“Do you want—”
“Yes,” Anne said again quickly, slipping her hands from his and letting him pluck the ring from her grasp. She started to bite her lip against a smile but then let it slip free anyway. Gilbert slipped the ring onto her finger and it felt more at home than the other one had.. She felt like she was in that dream that Gilbert must have snuck into, not believing her luck in suddenly finding herself in this position. She was engaged to a man now reaching out for her son that toddled towards him, surrounded by people she dared to maybe think of as her family, coming forward to congratulate them as if they were genuinely pleased by this occurrence.
And she was wrong. Her dreams were never as perfect as this.
Spring was Anne’s favorite season by far, but fall would now always hold a special place in her heart as the time of year in which her son had been born and also when she married the surprise love of her life in a small church ceremony in the heart of Avonlea. Despite being the symbol of springtime, there were plenty of flowers adorning her autumn wedding ceremony, and she felt that the symbolism of such blooms flourishing in the cold weather was an appropriate metaphor for her life. For the odds had been against her, but she allowed herself a moment of pride towards the bright blossoms.
With the ceremony finished, their friends and family mingled inside the church while they waited to congregate back together in the orchard. After Anne finished repeatedly thanking Diana for organizing a real photographer to take a picture of her in her wedding dress with Gilbert and Johnny in their matching suits, Rachel Lynde made her way up to the couple.
“Congratulations, Anne. Gilbert,” Rachel said. “Lovely ceremony.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Lynde,” Gilbert said, eyes falling to watch Johnny standing beside them with the help from the nearby pew.
“You haven’t received any unexpected visitors, have you?” Rachel obscurely asked out of the blue, making Anne frown.
“No,” she said slowly.
“I thought not. I only had an interesting encounter at the post office the other day,” Rachel said, blase. “I didn’t think a simple wedding announcement would cause such a stir.”
“What wedding announcement?” Gilbert asked quickly.
“Yours, of course.”
“What—”
“I couldn’t let Avonlea’s very own doctor go without a wedding announcement,” Rachel said, her voice edging on a scoff.
“But—”
“It seems it spread far and wide, which is a good thing of course. Then there was a man at the post office asking about it and you, Anne, my dear. Asking after you by name, even. Most peculiar. He was directed to me, of course, as there isn’t anyone in town I don’t know. He asked if you had children, which I can’t say was appropriate, but also if you had been spreading rumors about him. I told him— well, I said you can’t very well hear rumors about someone you don’t know and I didn’t know this man from Adam! And we don’t abide by rumors and gossip in Avonlea, anyway, now do we? Well, he left, feeling quite foolish I daresay. Went back to wherever he came from, I expect.”
Gilbert looked pale and Anne stared at Mrs. Lynde, her eyes wide.
Rachel carried on. She purposefully looked down at Johnny and then back up at his parents. “We don’t abide by gossip and we don’t abide by anyone saying anything against nice families such as yours,” she said firmly. She then gave Anne a pointed look, with a knowing smile, before walking off to go discuss her eldest’s wife’s mother’s latest letter with Mrs. Pye.
“Do you think she—”
“If there’s anyone I want on my side in a fight, it’s Mrs. Lynde,” Bash said, appearing at their side and picking up Johnny who was pleased to see him for the second time in a handful of minutes.
“Are there many fights in Avonlea?” Anne asked dryly, watching Rachel from across the room in amazement.
“Not once they accept you,” Bash told her, knowingly.
Anne turned to Gilbert and found him smiling at her.
“What?” she asked.
She just received a kiss in answer.