The seacoast gusts whipped her black hair in vicious assaults against her cheeks. Sixteen year old Leslie Ford let her unfashionably long hair fly free in the summer sun as she walked the beach by herself. So much she did alone. Her older brother David was so smooth and popular, everyone loved him. Leslie sighed; he was so very easy to love. All the girls in Glen St. Mary's just wanted to talk about David Ford, which she found limited conversation immensely. David was simply David, and she loved him with everything she had.
David took care of his little sister, but even all his star power could keep her from fading into the shadows. After Leslie, Kate was next, not yet fourteen, but with Grandma Anne's personality and hair, no one could ever miss her, nor was every girl her age obsessed with her older brother. Endearing Mathew did not seem to care for the social scene, he was a little young yet, Leslie supposed, but his boyish "what ifs…" made him a favorite with Grandpa and Uncle Doc.
To be invisible was not a bad thing, she reminded herself. Nothing ever disturbed her way. She was Leslie Ford and she preferred to be alone, thank you. Still one could not help but wonder what it was like to have a kindred spirit, to really understand. At times the longing for such a friend grew insatiable, and she came here to dowse it in a sea air and spray. Something about the overcoming expanse of water with as many moods as Kate calmed her soul. Grey, angry and churning or blue and friendly, it always was different, yet it remained the same. She could count on it to remind her of who she was.
Anne sighed. Of her growing pack of grandchildren, none had ever exhibited the loner tendencies of Rilla's oldest daughter. Her parents both certainly had stolen the scene where ever they went, but Leslie was different. She was so apt to be forgotten amongst the hustle and bustle of red heads and Blythe congeniality. Her cousins all vied for attention and never seemed to have much trouble getting it. Leslie seemed lost in her own world. Just being of the Race that knows Joseph was not enough for her friendship, her kindred spirit would indeed be very special someone indeed, someday, a very far away someday preferably.
Anne worried over her all her grandchildren at one time or another, but Leslie kept coming to haunt her quiet moments. Perhaps she worried too much, Shirley was just as quiet as a young man, but he had found his place in the world. Everything would turn out alright in the end, she supposed, but just now it was very hard to leave things up to providence. Growing up was hard work, and living amongst so many cousins and friends for one's whole life did have its draw backs. Grandma Anne worried so about Leslie for the duration of the morning, contriving to bring her not-so-little granddaughter out of her shell. Was the Glen too stifling and loud for Leslie's tender soul? She would talk to Rilla and Ken during Sunday dinner, surely they shared her worries.
She laughed at herself, having such a large family had its drawbacks, if she let herself, she'd be worrying all the time. Nan was expecting again, and some one really should go to Avonlea to help her, goodness knows Di couldn't spare a minute with her brood of boys and newborn daughter. Anne was sure that Diana Wright doted on those boys just as much as she did.
A strong damp gust of wind caused her to break her reverie and inspect the threatening clouds. I suppose I should pick this old body up and head back now to beat the rain. She gathered her things and pulled her shawl closer. Looking around for Leslie, she spotted the girl just about to round the point, in the very opposite direction of home.
"Leslie! Leslie, please come back with Grandma!" The girl did not hear her and continued picking her way through the rocks. Anne, though not a spry as she once was, hastened to catch her granddaughter before the rain caught them both. At least the tide was still a ways out, Anne thought; she didn't want to have to race it as well.
Leslie was completely unaware until the rain itself showered her back into reality. She carefully picked her way through the slippery exposed rocks and seaweed. Frustrated, she worked her way on to the still wet, but less slippery rocks not covered by the water at high tide. It was slow going and the roar of the storm built around her. She turned for one last look at the water.
"Oh no! Not again" Leslie groaned. She left her shawl on the rocks. Mother is going to kill me, it looks like one Grandma made. Why did I even bother, its May! She picked her way through the rocks keeping the red shawl in sight, hurrying to claim it before the fast-rising tide did. Finally, Leslie was close enough to reach out a snatch her wrap.
"Grandma! What are you—your hurt grandma!" Leslie exclaimed.
"Leslie, I'll be fine, I was sitting here resting. Its hard work negotiating these rocks with one leg. I think it would be quickest for you to go get help, I believe I've twisted my ankle. Get David to come help me and send Matthew for your Grandpa and tell your mother I'm absolutely fine—although my mobility is a little hindered at the moment."
"No Grandma, I'm not going to leave you here to wait in the rain. Can you get up?"
"Maybe, I suppose there is one way to find out."
Rilla peered out her kitchen window. Really, where was that girl? Not only had Leslie been warned to be back in time to help with dinner, but she should have the common sense not to be traipsing about the shore in pouring rain. Rilla turned back to her dinner preparations. She smiled to herself as she heard her sons racing down the stairs; first one in the kitchen gets to set the table she thought with a chuckle. Sure enough, David poked his curly head in and out.
"Ah ah, young man. Get back here. I know you're old enough to drive, but that does not excuse you from setting the table."
David slouched, resigned to his fate and mumbled "yes Mother" as he clanged dishes and silverware on to the family dinner table, wrinkling the table cloth.
"Mother, do you hear something?" But Rilla was already at the door, and already giving a piece of her mind to the expected Leslie.
"Young lady, to you expect me to put up with this much longer? You are very nearly a young woman, response..." She stopped in her tracks when she opened the door to her dripping daughter and mother.
"Mama, what are you doing out in the rain? Leslie? Somebody explain." David took one look at his sister and grandmother and knew without words.
"Mother, I'll be back with Grandpa." He flung over his should as he buttoned his slicker.
"Oh Mother!" Rilla exclaimed half exasperated and half relieved. "You really can't wander the shore on nights like tonight".
"I know my dear, but getting into scrapes is nothing new for me. I imagine I'll be getting into them until the good Lord takes me" Anne smiled and laughed as Rilla went about gathering her some dry cloths and a few blankets. "Really, Rilla it is summer and not December, I'm not frail enough to take a chill."
Fifteen minutes later, David arrived with a rather worried Grandpa and Uncle Jem. They quickly went to work and were satisfied that no major damage had occurred. Although Grandma Anne had taken quit a spill and would have to keep off her feet, perhaps the only tragedy was that Rilla's Saturday night roast had dried out to the consistency of saw dust.
"Leslie! What are you still doing in those dripping cloths?" Rilla asked, horrified, as she salvaged dinner. "You are going to catch your death!"
"I wanted to see if Grandma was alright."
"You see now that she is well taken care of, and you my dear, need to go take of yourself!"
"Yes, Mother" As Leslie traipsed up the starts in her damp shirt and skirt, Anne turned to Rilla, Ken and Gilbert, with her eyes sparkling with an idea.
"I don't know about you and Ken, dear, but I've been worrying about Leslie. She seems to want to blend in with the walls and the carpet. Sometimes I wonder if maybe she needs a change to find herself apart from all her cousins and siblings."
"I know what you mean mother," Rilla sighed "I just am not sure what to do about it."
"Well, Rilla-my-Rilla, I have an idea. I was thinking today that maybe I would spend some time in Avonlea with Nan and Jerry. I was hoping to help Nan with her brood when the new baby arrives, obviously I wouldn't be much help now, but may be you would consider sending Leslie to Avonlea for the summer to help Nan and breathe a little free air."
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Leslie stepped off the train and looked around with her brown eyes wide. She pressed her back up against the station wall and took a deep breath. Ok Leslie, she thought, get yourself together! It's just Avonlea and relatives for the summer; you are here to help Aunt Nan not to be comfortable.
How she did wish that Uncle Jerry would get here soon! What if he didn't come at all? What if he and Aunt Nan had forgotten about her? She sniffed and mentally shuddered. She would not cry, it would be so embarrassing, to cry in front of all these strange people. At least Avonlea was by the sea, Aunt Nan and Uncle Jerry could have lived somewhere far away and landlocked. She would go down to the shore as soon as she could.
"Excuse me, are you Miss. Leslie Ford?" A voice interrupted Leslie's thoughts. She looked up not to see Uncle Jerry or Uncle Jake, but a strange boy. She sat for a moment in petrified silence.
"Um, y—yes ... I am."
"I'm sorry to startle you miss, but your Aunt Nan and Uncle Jerry are a bit busy this afternoon, so they sent me to collect you."
"Oh." Leslie said simply. The boy stood with his hands in his pockets rather uncomfortably.
"Well," he said "I suppose I'd better be getting you back to the farm. Where's your luggage?" Leslie pointed him to her suitcase and then followed him to the car. "Boy, will Aunt Nan and Uncle Jerry be happy to see you" he said as he hefted her suitcase into the trunk. Leslie couldn't untwist her tongue and her lips seemed to have been glued together by an invisible hand. After a few minutes, the silence in the car was growing so heavy it threatened to choke her. Thankfully he broke it. "I'll be taking you to your Aunt Di's for tonight and tomorrow I suppose you'll go to aunt Nan's." They rounded the bend and the house was in sight. The home lights flickered and the big old home looked some much like Ingleside or the manse that Leslie could have cried. Now don't do it, she lectured herself, don't you go crying in front of this strange boy. You've been away from home less than a day, get yourself together. She sniffed; oh this summer was going to be very long indeed.