Why Hello there.

I don't have much to say then other than how the heck did two years pass so quickly! Pretty much what had happened was my computer went toasty and I thought I had lost all my story data for this one. Until last week when I was browsing my hard drive and found it all. I know its not the greatest excuse but re-reading the last chapter got me back into the story.

I hope to continue writing this slowly. I am rather busy working at the Ballet and working on my own novel but I feel like this is calling to me at the moment.

Also, my writing has changed over the years for the better I hope. So it may be a slightly different style or writing than the previous two chapters. At least it was to me when I was re-writing a lot of things.

Anyway here's to chapter 3


Somehow things managed to come together relatively easy and quietly. Marilla had found herself thanking Providence daily now. It didn't take long for John to Matthew's offer of residing in Green Gables. It was a much better solution for everyone involved. Between the two men, they could work together on the farm. Allowing for less stress for each man. It also allowed Gilbert to go to school while helping with the chores that were suitable for a young boy.

With that move decided John quietly looked for a new tenant. It was an easy task as he was leaving most of the harvest for them. He wasn't exactly thrilled to live next to Rachel Lynde, then again whoever was.

As the days progressed, John often found himself riding the back trails over to Green Gables. It took him back to his youth as he and Marilla courted. It also kept his visits from prying eyes of neighbours.

It was a Wednesday morning when he drove to Carmody to drop off two cows that were to be sold. He decided then to look for a ring or some sort of gift for Marilla. He knew she had her purple stone brooch and various earrings that she wore on special occasions. They were simple and elegant nothing flashy or gaudy. The brooch had been a gift from her mother. Shortly before she passed away he remembers. As the memory of Marilla running over one afternoon to show off her amethyst was still fresh in her mind. A few months later her Mother had passed away with her father a year later. Matthew had taken over the farm, while Marilla ran Green Gables.

Now he barely remembers what they had quarrelled about years ago. Something to do about dance, and another woman trying to claim his attention. Yes, it had been safe to say Marilla Cuthbert had a jealous streak in her.

Once he got the cows sold he stopped by the jewellery store, tying his horse off on the bar he walked inside. It was not the first time he had been in this store he bought various trinkets and his late wife's wedding band here.

"Hello, sir! Is there anything I can help you with today?" The young woman at the counter beamed at him. He took off his hat nodding as he walked over towards the counter.

"I'm looking for a wedding ring," John said after a moment.

"Congratulations! Do we have any idea what sort of jewellery she likes to wear? Do you know her size?" The lady asked in a long string of a questions. .

John cursed inwardly realizing he had no idea what size Marilla would be. He tried picturing her hand as she served tea or when she worked on mending. "I don't but she had long slender fingers." He said after a moment.

The lady nodded. "So more than likely a size 6, or a 6.5," she told him removing a few trays of rings. "Anything particular about the lady in question?"

"Pardon?" John asked.

"Has she any likes or dislikes toward gold or silver, stone preference, cut?" the Lady rambled off.

"Oh, she is simple, practical but elegant. She wears an amethyst brooch on special occasions," John told her awkwardly.

"How about this on then?" The lady showed him a ring of a simple amethyst stone with two accent diamonds on a gold band. "It would match her brooch, and won't be cumbersome to wear while doing housework."

"How much," John asked curiously as he weighed the ring in his hand as looked at it.

"We're having a sale this weekend so its half off." The told him as she checked the price tag and told him the price.

"I'll take it then," John told her. "If it doesn't fit we can always come back at get it sized correctly?"

"Of course sir." The lady agreed as she placed the ring in a small velvet bag. She wrote out the receipt as John counted out the money handing it over.

"Thank you, for all the help Ma'am." He smiled bowing his head to her and pocketing his purchase before leaving the store.


Marilla looked around her room, which once upon a time was her parents. It still consisted of the same dark stained wood bed and furniture that her father had built. The closet still had plenty of space for John. While the bureau had been just organized to accommodate her soon to be husbands things. She washed the curtains and placed a new quilt on the bed.

She walked the halls counting the rooms.

Down the hall to her left was her childhood room. Still the same white and floral paper with its small gable window looking out into the front yard. No one ever went into there anymore and too much like a young girls fantasy than a young boys room.

In the end, she cleared out a smaller room at the back of the house that had previously used for storage. Scrubbing down the floors and washed the walls as she aired out the feather mattress. By the time she finished new curtain hung in the window. A dark blue material she had found in the bottom of her fabric trunk. A blue that matched the quilt that was spread on the bed. A small dresser sat against the opposite wall, while a small trunk laid at the foot of the bed. It was more than adequate for the young boy.

The whole house was ready for its new members that would be arriving Saturday evening.

Her gown stood hung in the closet freshly brushed and steamed. New ivory lace was added onto the light grey purple cotton silk gown at the neckline. Carefully hand tacked down by herself over the past week. The skirt was held wide with a crinoline and petticoats. She never was one to keep with the fashions but her Sunday best always looked smart.

It was Saturday morning when she looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair carefully arranged in large braids that went around her chignon. It was more adventurous than the usual bun she wore daily. However, John had spoken about getting a photo done while in Carmody. Knowing is she was going to be preserved by the art of photography—she was going to look her best.

Matthew waiting for her as she came down the stairs. Dressed in his best suit and his hair slicked back. She always thought her brother cleaned up well. He was handsome and all her friends had fancied him growing up. Yet he remained shy and after the lack of encouragement all the ladies left him alone. Still, as her brother looked at her rather proud look on his face. She wondered what had stopped him from marrying all those years ago.

"Don't look at me like that Matthew, I'm only getting married, not leaving the island." She teased him lightly with her dry wit. "I'm not even leaving this house," she reminded him as she gathered her hat and gloves. "Now come along before we are late. I already told Rachel that we are going to get our photographs taken, so if she sees us she won't find it that strange."

"I don't understand why you wouldn't just tell her the truth," Matthew muttered. He found the woman exasperating, of course, but Rachel was a long time friend of Marilla's. Who was there for both of them when their parents had passed away.

"I don't want all of Avonlea to know or make a large fuss over everything," Marilla reminded him. He helped put on her good shawl over her shoulders. She pinned it together with her brooch.


It was a short drive to Carmody and the weather rather fair as the drove over the red soil roads. The salty smell of the ocean greeting them as they neared the coastline. When they arrived they found Blythe's waiting for them. John in navy blue suit he wore to Church on Sunday's. While Gilbert was smartly dressed in a white shirt and waistcoat.

It was short and simple the ceremony that is. Traditional vows were spoken and the ring was blessed before it was sled on her finger. Cool metal felt strange even though she wore rings before. Before she knew it she was singing her name on the registrar after John.

It was official she was officially Mrs, John Blythe. Marilla Blythe, it was strange to even say it in her head as they walked over to the photographers. Photography was still a relatively new thing to the Island. Many, including Marilla, still found it strange that a camera could capture such a picture.

It had been decided that they would sit for a wedding portrait and two family portraits. One of them being her and Matthew alone. The photographer explain the process to a curious Gilbert. Explaining that they were called tintype. A type of photograph that could be developed immediently by his assistant.

Once developed each portrait was placed in a paperboard card. While they were given different choices of frames. It was an expense but after seeing the photos Marilla was impressed. She already knew the spots in the parlour where they would sit.

They were walking towards their buggy when she caught sight of the Pye's. She knew that they saw them as she walked with her arm tucked into John Blythe's. She knew that Rachel would be knocking at her the door the first chance she got. She refused to let it ruin her lunch though. They had reservations at the hotel restaurant for lunch and tea. Who when they found out they were celebrating, brought out an assortment of small cakes for the table.

The drive back was more nerve-wracking than driving to her own wedding. Green Gables was deserted as they drove up to the house. After the horses were unhitched and tied everyone went to change out of their good clothing. Marilla quickly changed into her everyday brown skirt and cream blouse. Tying an apron around her waist she quickly made her way to the kitchen. Gilbert sat at the table with a slate in his hand as John and Matthew went to do the evening chores.

They had a light dinner before retiring to the sitting room. John taking up at the desk to write his Aunt about the marriage and change of address. While Matthew sat on the floor playing with the wooden trains that Gilbert brought down to his room. What a strange thing life could be. How easily it could change in a heartbeat. Life always went on even after all the changes. Marilla knew that. Both John and Gilbert were mourning the loss of their wife and mother. It only had been a short two weeks since they began speaking to one another once more.

John carried Gilbert up to his room little past eight o'clock. Helping the young boy dress for bed and brush his teeth in the unfamiliar house. Marilla busied herself in the kitchen, setting beans to soak for the next day's dinner. Matthew muttered something about checking on the animals before retiring for the night. She knew he was giving them space and privacy to speak to each other if they wished to.

She heard John come down the stairs when the clock struck nine o'clock. His shirt sleeves rolled up and his tie long abandoned. She handed him a cup of warm cider as she sat down in her chair at the table. "He went to bed without a fuss?" She asked after a moment of not knowing what to say.

"Yes, it took a book or two," John nodded. "He's still thinking that Laura will show up one day." He admitted to her. "It's always worse in the morning and night."

"It's understandable," Marilla nodded. "I remember when my mother passed away when I was seventeen and thinking the very same thing some nights." She recalled, remembering who had comforted her in the days. She grew up so fast after those days, taking on the household as her father and brother ran the farm. She had found stolen moments of solace in the arms of the man that now sat across from her.

"It appears we have missed the day's gossip," John spoke after a moment.

"I am sure Rachel will be barging through our door before church tomorrow." Marilla chuckled at the thought of her friend. "The Pye's saw us in Carmody, it's only a matter of time."

"So it seems," John finished his drink and stood up. "Shall we retire?"

Marilla nodded and placed their cups into the wash bin for the morning. Casually they walked next to each other to the room which now belonged to both of them. His clothing now hung in the closet and dresser drawers.

On opposite ends of the room, they changed into their nightwear. Piece by piece clothing found its way onto chairs. Loosening the strings of her corset she unhooked the busk letting herself take in a full deep breath. She set it aside and sat on her edge of the bed to unbutton her shoes and take off her stocking. She was only left in her short sleeved chemise of light cotton that was edged in knitted lace. It was a dilemma as it was summer and there was no need for a flannel nightgown. Yet she wished for another layer to sleep in. Another layer of protection for her.

In the end, the heat of the night won out. They extinguished the lamps before settling into the wide bed. Pulling the summer quilt over them until only their arms were exposed.

"Thank you," John said into the dark of the night. "I truly can't thank you enough for helping me keep Gilbert here in Avonlea."

"I could never allow her to take Gilbert from you," Marilla answered after a moment. "As my mother would say, 'Providence makes things happen for a reason'. We may not know exactly the plans He has for us, but you know I never do anything I do not wish to do." She spoke carefully.

"I know that all too well." John agreed gruffly remembering the quarrel that lasted over twenty years. He loved Laura there was never any doubt in that. However, the quick wit and temper of Miss Cuthbert had been engrained in his mind from a young age.

Maybe this was their second chance? When things normalized and his own mourning was over?

Neither spoke of what they were thinking. It was too early for such talk.

"Goodnight John," Marilla spoke softly.

"Goodnight Mari," He said after a moment letting his old name for her fall from his tongue. He knew he was the only one to ever call her such a name. He knew deep down that he was the only one to be allowed to call her such. Her parent's had called her Rilla as a child, as she grew up she had found it childish. He was the first to call her Mari and it had stuck.

She didn't know why or what prompted her at that moment when she grabbed his hand that lay beside her.

Maybe it was hearing the old name fall from his lips? Maybe it was something else altogether?


Well, there you go.

Thank you all for all the reviews and comments on this story over the past couple of years.

I will say that Grammar is not my strong suit but I have tried my best and edited it two or three times in different programs and what not. Any mistakes are mine, and my apologies.

Tina.