Chapter 3: Hearth and Home
Mrs. Maria Blythe was a woman of soft curves and smiles, jolly by nature with a sweetness of disposition that made her a general favorite among the middle aged women of Avonlea. She had hair that was the amber blonde of honey, hazel eyes that crinkled up at the corners when she laughed, and a rosy complexion. There was about her a pervasive sense of happiness that seemed to make her face younger than it really was. She sat working on a bit of lace of a new pattern, lately borrowed from Mrs. Gillis, by the last lingering light of the evening in her cozy kitchen. The kitchen was clean and tidy, though not painfully so, with flowers in the windows and warm tones. The table was already laid for supper. She could not help laying out a table of such a state usually only seen with the minister visited. She had used her best spotless white table cloth, edged in lace, and her delicate wedding china with the ivy edging and yellow flowers. The table practically groaned under all of the dishes she had made, tongue and chicken, peas and beans, two kinds of preserves and a marvelous chocolate layer cake waiting in the pantry. Mrs. Blythe was a noted cook, and no picnic or bazaar was complete unless she had contributed some toothsome creation. This, however, was not her great point of pride, or her tidy home, or the fine lace in her hands. Her greatest pride was summed up in nothing more or less than her son. Gilbert had been the third child for Maria and John. Two tiny graves marked a brother, born dead, and a sister that had lived only two months before succumbing to a fever. Gilbert was born healthy and dimpled, a truly pretty baby. Her pretty baby had grown into a handsome boy, petted and adored by all. As no other children had followed him, he had all of the love and attention that the kind little mother had dreamed of bestowing on a house full.
That motherly love added to the anticipation she felt as she listened for the sounds of her husband returning with her son. The family had been apart very little. Gilbert had been too small to visit by himself before John's illness. While illness and the shadow of death can drive some families apart, it only brought the Blythes closer together. During those three years, Maria and Gilbert united in the care of John. Watching and worrying, and at last growing hopeful as he seemed to gain in strength and vigor. Maria had felt uneasy in Gilbert taking on responsibilities of a man at so young an age and she felt guilty that he had fallen so far behind in school. There was nothing else to do for it though. The doctor they had seen frequently while living in Alberta had noted Gilbert's intelligence and loaned him books. Dr. Nelson had often stayed for hours after he had seen John, discussing those books with Gilbert. As a result, he was not as very far behind as he might have been on returning to Avonlea. He had made up some lost time in school last year, and Mrs. Blythe was so convinced of her son's brilliance, she was sure he would not be behind the other small fry for long.
On hearing the clip of hooves in the hard packed earth of the drive, Maria quickly dropped her lace into her work basket, put it away, and smoothing her skirt and hair from long habit as she lit the lamps. Too impatient to wait, she opened the kitchen door to greet her family, back together at last.
Gilbert ran toward his mother as enthusiastically as he had run toward his father, with a bright grin on his face. When she wrapped him in a tight hug, she noticed with a start that he was now as tall as she was. Tears dimmed her eyes a bit as she pulled away and held is face in her hands.
"Welcome home son. How I have missed you," she said with feeling. None but those who have gained knowledge of the secrets of motherhood could understand that behind those words lay an ocean of love, gladness and pride, touched with a bit of sadness at how quickly her child was becoming a man. With manhood came independence, and someday her son would leave her, get married and have a family of his own. She hoped for this because her first motive was his happiness. Still, she couldn't help being jealous of this shadowy woman in the distant future. She was intensely jealous of her son's love. Mrs. Blythe shook away such premonitions and focused on the present. Tonight her son had come home, and for now his mother was the most important woman in his life.
"I am glad to be home Mother. I missed you too, and I missed your cooking," Gilbert teased as he peered around his mother at the laden table.
"Well, we can't have that," laughed Maria, a twinkle of good humor replacing the shine of tears in her eyes. "Here now, you just go wash up while I fill the glasses."
Gilbert's eyes lit up, "Lemonade?"
"Yes, I made it just for the occasion. I know you enjoy it."
Gilbert laughed merrily. Yes, he did. He thought it tasted like liquid summer. This summer must have been a boring affair without him, and he said as much to his mother.
Maria looked at him with expression of mixed exasperation and humor, well aware of her son's methods of preventing boredom. "Well your friends have missed you. Fred and Jimmy stopped by on their way home from school yesterday asking when you would be back. However, I wouldn't say we have been bored here in Avonlea by any stretch."
By the time Gilbert was washed up and was seated at the table, John had returned and placed Gilbert's trunk and leather bag in his room. John smiled as he watched Maria fuss about the table and, when they were all seated, he bowed his head to offer thanks for the meal. John's deep voice filled the little kitchen, and ended, as always, with heartfelt thanks for the health of his family. Gilbert earnestly added his own silent thank to God for his father's health and slid his eyes sideways to look at him in the bright kitchen lamp light. Yes, Father looked tired and more run down than he had in June. Gilbert cut his eyes to his mother as he unfolded his napkin. Mother's own eyes mirrored his worried expression. She tightened her mouth, and Gilbert knew she to was worried.
For several minutes no one spoke beyond the "pleases" and "thankyous" of a family supper. It was a comfortable silence as everyone quickly tucked away generous portions of their meal. As Gilbert helped himself to a second helping of preserves and another biscuit, he returned to Mother's previous comment. "What excitement has happened around pokey old Avonlea while I was away?"
His father chuckled appreciatively but left Mrs. Blythe answer.
"Well, Mr. Josiah Abner's pig got into the church yard and rooted up all of the petunias not long after you left. The school got a new flag." Gilbert looked rather disappointed. This sounded like regular Avonlea to him. Maria's expression looked a little too innocent though, as if she might be saving the best for last.
"Oh, and it seems you will have a new classmate. Mathew and Marilla Cuthbert have adopted an orphan girl from Nova Scotia, about your age or a little younger." Here Gilbert perked up with interest. Girls were the most fun to tease and a new girl provided the opportunity for a victim that didn't know any of his tricks!
Eying Gilbert's mischievous smile, John warned, "She appears to have quite a temper. It seems just a week after her arrival she gave Mrs. Lyde a tongue lashing. Mrs. Lynde said she had never been so insulted."
At this news Gilbert's smile turned positively gleeful. Someone had lit into Mrs. Rachel! Oh he wished he could have been there to see the look on her face! Gilbert was not a mean spirited boy, but he really felt there was a limit to what a fellow could take in terms of "respecting his elders". Mrs. Rachel had pushed that limit more than once with her sighs and head shaking while looking at his father, or her disapproving glances at his mother's bright hats. He was sure she was a kindly woman, and did much for the community. Still, her advice was best kept in small doses.
"I'm sure it has worked out," said Maria. "I heard Mrs. Lynde telling Miss Cuthbert at Ladies Aid this week how improved Anne seemed to be."
"Anne?" asked Gilbert.
"Yes, Anne Shirley is her name," replied his mother. "I have only seen her at church, but she seems a very odd little thing, all elbows and eyes. Mrs. Barry says Diana comes home talking about the strangest things after playing with her. I hope you will be nice to her at school dear. I'm afraid she might feel lonely being the newest pupil," she concluded kindly.
John chuckled, "Odd she may be, but she certainly can talk. I ran into her with Mathew at William Blair's store and she was chatting up a storm. He was looking at her as if the world revolved around her. Any sprite of a girl who can bring Mathew Cuthbert out of his shell has enough charm for all of Avonlea."
"Time will tell," said Maria, putting the whole conversation out of her mind as she began clearing plates to make room for dessert. After she had stepped into the pantry, Gilbert inquired of his father "Have you already harvested the back field? Today is only Thursday, so I could help you tomorrow and start fresh at school on Monday."
John gave his son a small smile, "No I had planned to start the back field tomorrow and finish it early next week. You should go to school son. I wouldn't want you to miss out on seeing your friends."
"I'm not so eager to sit all day in a classroom just yet," shrugged Gilbert. "Please Father? It will be good to be outside working with you again." It wasn't entirely true that he wasn't excited to get back to school, but Monday would be soon enough to see his friends.
"Well, I suppose it is fine with me," acquiesced John wearily. He was pleased his son wanted to help, and knew the job would be done faster as a consequence.
"What is fine with you?" asked Maria as she came back with a layered chocolate cake and a knife to cut it with. That cake was from a recipe handed down for generations in Maria's family, a closely guarded secret that many housewives in Avonlea had unsuccessfully tried to replicate in the privacy of their own kitchens. It also happened to be Gilbert's favorite.
"Gilbert asked me if he could help with the harvest tomorrow all day instead of going to school."
Maria's eyes snapped dangerously, "Gilbert you are already three weeks into term, and you fell so far behind while we were away. You must not neglect your education."
Gilbert stood up and helped his mother with the plates while planting a kiss on her cheek and throwing a free arm around her shoulder. "Please Mother? A growing boy needs good food and fresh air. You provide the best food in the world, and helping Father tomorrow will give me plenty of fresh air." He gave her the charming grin that came so naturally as he added, "I would much rather spend my first day home with my family." She smiled, won over completely.
John quickly took a gulp from his hot cup of coffee to hide his smile rather than tempt Maria's temper. The boy certainly knew how to handle his mother.
