Hello, everyone! This will be the much-anticipated(?) and asked-for(?) sequel to A Long Drive. One of the most prevailing comments I receive is that I never write more than 5 seconds of happiness for Anne and Gil. I hear you, so this is me trying, for the very first time, to write something fluffy and sweet. Hopefully, there will still be plot and intrigue and, knowing myself as I do, some angst. However, I do think it's time for a story like this. My stories tend to reflect the mood my life is in. I wrote Kill Me Now during the harshest two years of my life, and it shows. Now, I'm in one of the happiest times in my life, and I think A Long Way will reflect that. So, I hope everyone enjoys this story, and if you don't, please let me know if my fluff should be deleted immediately and never mentioned again. Thank you!
When Anne Shirley looked back over her life, she counted three distinct mornings when she awoke feeling as if the world had begun again.
Once, on the morning when she boarded the bus to her new home and new family.
Another, the morning after she and Gil finally called their truce and spent hours laughing in the Lane.
And finally, the morning of her first day of classes at Redmond University.
On those days, the world felt friendlier, kinder and brighter. More full of possibility and adventure. And Anne, romantic as she was, treasured those memories deeply.
And now, as she awoke on a cool, spring Saturday, Anne knew today would increase her mornings of newness by one. Flipping in her bed, Anne caught sight of her yellow, striped umbrella hanging on her bedroom doorknob. A silly smile spread across her face, and she muffled her happiness in her lumpy pillow.
Flashes of memories from last night sparked in her mind. The warmth of Gil's uncontrolled happiness. The sound of rainwater dripping from his apartment building's roof. The softness of his dark green couch….
A perfunctory knock shattered her thoughts before Phil burst into her room, looking completely wild.
"Anne Shirley," Phil said, breathlessly, slamming the door behind her and bracing herself against it. "You must tell me every detail of what happened last night!"
"Must I, Phil?" Anne teased, getting up from her bed and slipping on her gray robe and pink house shoes. "Doesn't it feel a little private to you? I don't think I ever pried into your personal life—unless you hinted I should."
"That's only because you're a good friend and I'm not!" Phil explained, moving toward Anne, who sat down at her vanity and began brushing her hair. "You respect boundaries! I don't! And I need to know what happened between you and Gilbert Blythe last night."
Anne only smiled and got up from her seat. Swerving around Phil, she opened her door and headed down the hallway to the bathroom. But Phil was at her heel—never one to drop an intriguing subject.
"I'm begging you, Anne," Phil began, sliding into the bathroom behind Anne and plopping down on the rim of the bathtub. "I know you're probably still basking in your newfound happiness and joy and whatever, but the rest of us—mainly me—need the scoop. We've all—again, me—invested so much time and emotional labor into your surprisingly tumultuous love life, and we all—me—deserve some answers!"
"That's a definite point you've made, Phil," Anne retorted gently, shoving a toothbrush loaded with white-and-green striped toothpaste into her mouth. "Bud I jush can'd eben think ob where do sdard."
"Well, you can start with whatever happened between you and Roy last night," Phil said, rolling her eyes at Anne's smug, minty smirk. "Then, you can move on to your impressive and damp dash across Redmond to Gilbert Blythe's apartment. And finally, you can tell me all the lovesick things you and Gil said to each other and whatever dirty things you did to each other in the aftermath."
"Phil!" Anne choked, spitting out toothpaste into the sink. "Gil and I didn't do anything dirty—"
"You're telling me that desperate boy, who's been itching to put just one finger on you since fifth grade, didn't even touch you?" Phil interrupted, her crooked smile blooming mischievously.
"Well, I mean, he did touch me—"
"Did he try to kiss you?" Phil shot back, her eyes sparkling.
"Well, he didn't have to try—"
"Oh, how the story changes!" Phil exclaimed, her tone ecstatic. "Well, did he kiss you anywhere besides the mouth—not counting anything PG-rated like the forehead?"
"Aren't you going to be a pastor's wife?" Anne asked, grabbing Phil's shoulders and pushing her out of the bathroom. "But perhaps, he did. And perhaps it was amazing and felt so perfectly right. But, that's all for now."
"But, Anne…." Phil whined as Anne began determinedly closing the door.
"Later, later, I promise!" Anne said, leaning against the doorframe. "You know I owe a lot of my courage to you, and I can't thank you enough for pushing along most of my relationships. But I've got to use the restroom, and I need just a few more moments alone."
"Fine, Queen Anne," Phil laughed. "But I'll hold you to that promise. I never give up on a good story, and this has potential to be the best yet."
"Of course," smiled Anne, and she shut the door.
Finally, Anne was alone again in her brand new world. She paused to look at her dizzily happy expression in the mirror, and she couldn't help but think her future started today.