Anne walked with determined steps through the spring air, stopping only once to briefly smell the daffodils that had popped up all over Kingsport. It was early May and the trees were in full bloom. It was just beginning to become warm, the icy chill of winter gone as though it had never been. Anne believed she had rarely seen anything more beautiful than spring in Avonlea, but if anything could rival it, it was spring in Kingsport. There was something about the budding flowers of nature around quaint old buildings that made it quite lovely to see as nature blended with history and the bustle of Kingsport life. It was almost as if spring and Kingsport had determined together just the right blend everything they had to offer. Anne sighed and thought on how much she had come to love it there, although it would never be the Avonlea. However, Kingsport had begun to feel more like home since Christmas break and Anne found herself, with Gilbert in tow, exploring every crevice the city had to offer. With less than a week, and only one more final, until she returned home to Avonlea, she wanted one more ramble before she left for a long summer. Anne couldn't quite say what it was about the place that garnered her praise, but a careful observer might have reasoned that Anne would feel at home on the moon so long as Gilbert Blythe was there with her.
As Anne walked along it was hard to stop her thoughts from drifting to Gilbert and all she had experienced about life and love. The last few months had introduced Anne to a Gilbert Blythe she wasn't quite sure she ever knew could possibly exist. She always knew he was thoughtful and smart. She always knew he was caring and kind. She most assuredly knew he was mischievous and teasing. But to be his friend and to be the woman he had declared his love for were two very different things.
Anne began to realize just that distinction when notes began arriving at her boarding house on a regular basis. Most of them were short, romantic little notes. Some telling her she was beautiful, others how much he adored her. Others were longer, sometimes detailing small stories of their past that had helped to cement her in his heart. They were touching and sincere. Anne could have little doubt of the depth of his affection and she almost kicked herself for her old foolish ideas of romance. Gilbert Blythe epitomized romance. Not because he made grand gestures with flowers, not because he offered her castles, not because he draped his jacket over puddles for her, but simply because he loved her.
As trivial as it was, this was not a matter she realized lightly. An entire lifetime of having certain ideas about what it would mean to fall and be in love was completely turned on its head. It colored the way she saw many things. It colored the way she wrote. It colored the ideas she had for stories. She laughed when she thought of her some of her first musings of writing love stories. For what did she know then except for what she believed to be her dream? The ideas had been trite and overly flowery. The typical prince rescuing the princess. Nothing more than fairy tales from an imagination too overly taxed with protecting her that it bared little resemblance to reality. But Gilbert had changed all that. Her poor Averil never stood a chance against him. That evening, months ago, he planted the seed in her head that had grown into what she now held in her hand. That was the beginning of her understanding of what real romance was. And since then, it had been a struggle not to see it in a different way than she always had. She began to look at things differently. She saw the quiet steady comfort of the love Diana and Fred had for each other. Now she noticed how Fred's eyes followed Diana around the room any time they were together they were in the same room. She noticed how Diana quietly beamed at the mere mention of his name, beyond proud to be linked to her betrothed. She noticed how when she thought no one was looking, Mrs. Lynde would take a picture out of her sewing basket of her Thomas and spend a few quiet moments mourning the loss of her beloved with a few tears and a heavy sigh. She noticed families in the park in Kingsport who wandered together in playful joy, earnestly fulfilled by the simple pleasure of being together.
That was romance.
That was love.
It was all Anne had the chance to see because Gilbert had taught her what it truly all meant.
She held the fruit of that love in her hand now, hoping that it would show him what she always hoped she could, but had not yet had the courage to say. Yes, he knew she loved him. She knew she wanted to marry him someday. But her heart was so full of things unsaid, things she had trouble finding words for. Things she wanted to tell him. But she was always better with written words. If he would but read what he inspired in her, he would understand the place he held in heart. That's what she wanted most of all for him to know.
Reaching Gilbert's boarding house, she found him waiting for her on a bench just outside the front door, his head down in a book that he seemed rather intently reading. He looked rather adorable with his head down and his unruly hair a rather moppy mess on his head.
He must have sensed her presence, because he looked up after only a few moments and rewarded her with a brilliant smile.
"Why, hello there, beautiful," he said then looking at his watch. "You're late!"
Anne laughed, "Gil, we said five o'clock. It's ten minutes till still."
"So it is," he said putting his books aside on the bench and standing up to greet her. "But you see, I've been waiting for you since yesterday when we made plans so, technically you're late." He gave her a light kiss on lips.
"And just what has you so intrigued," Anne asked, looking past him to the bench.
Gilbert groaned, "Chemistry. It's always chemistry."
"Trying to beat someone out for top honors are we?"
"Of course. I don't think I could go home if you beat me two semesters in a row. How would I face anyone ever again?" He said with mock seriousness.
"Well it's possible you could be shunned, I imagine."
"Exactly! So study chemistry I must!"
"Well then perhaps I should go and leave you to it?" Anne said as she made to walk away. But Gilbert was too quick and he tightened his hold on her. "You, my love, are not going anywhere. I've barely seen you in the last two weeks. So shunned or not, you are staying right here with me! Chemistry can go to the devil!" Gilbert was, as always, a little frustrated about the pace of life at Redmond. Not because he disliked it. In fact, he rather enjoyed it. But it came with the price of not spending as much time with Anne as he would have liked. But he surmised there was probably never a scenario where he would ever spend as much time with her as he would like. Unless of course they were married. In which case he would be quite content to lock themselves away for weeks and just be together...alone. However, thinking on the married state with Anne was not exactly great for maintaining his proper composure so he quickly put that thought out of his head… though it was never far from thoughts. His heart would not let it be so.
Oblivious to his thoughts, Anne said, "Phil is going to meet us at the party later so we have time for a long walk if you're interested in accompanying me to the park for awhile. How about a ramble Mr. Blythe?"
"I would love to!" he replied. "Priscilla can't make it tonight?" The Lambs were throwing a party for the graduating senior members. Gilbert had invited Anne, Priscilla, and Phil to go with him.
"Unfortunately no, she's still not feeling well. I offered to stay and sit with her but she claims she just needs some rest. I left her my best books so hopefully she will be on the mend soon."
"That's too bad. I have a couple friends who have been asking about her lately."
"Oh really?" Anne asked her interest peaked. "Who?"
"Caleb Howe for one. He's been talking about her since January."
"Is that so?"
"It is. And then there's Jeremy Sullivan, he's been begging me to ask you about her for weeks."
Anne squealed, "Oh how fun. I will have to tell Pris all about it. Why do neither of them try to talk to her?"
"Oh Jeremy tried several weeks ago at the freshman dance. He went to take her punch and ask her for a set but he tripped and spilled his drink all over himself."
Anne laughed "Oh dear, and how is it that I missed all this?"
Gilbert smiled back at her and shrugged, "You must have been so caught up in staring at me all evening. It happens."
Anne would have rolled her eyes at his arrogant joke, but when she really thought about it, it was likely true. Not that she meant to give him the satisfaction of admitting it.
Instead, she gave him a soft shove away. But Gilbert did not like the distance very much at all and pulled her closer once again. "Alright, alright, I will behave, I promise."
"Don't make promises you have no intention of keeping, Gilbert Blythe."
He laughed, "Fair enough! So about that walk?"
And together they left arm in arm for a springtime ramble through Kingsport. Gilbert felt somehow lighter for just being in Anne's presence. This semester had been tough, much tougher than he had anticipated. He was bogged down with school and Lambs, and student council. And on the days it all became just a bit too overwhelming, there was Anne to be his refuge. She had always been important to him. But he marveled how in the past five months she had fit so decidedly perfectly into his life that he wondered how he had managed any other way. It wasn't that he was now dependent on her, but he depended on her. It was a small distinction to be sure, but one that he made with gratefulness to have her in his life this way. He delighted in getting to know her even better over the course of their courtship. She was like the pages of wonderful novel. Before he even knew it, he had been pulled into her pages and so entranced by her story that he felt very sure that he never wanted it to end. She had shared so much with him, things he never dared ask about before. Things he thought she might rather never speak of again. Things that, if he understood her correctly, that she had never shared with anyone else.
He now knew why she chatted so ceaselessly at times, because silence used to frighten her.
He now understood just how the imagination he so loved in her had saved her from unimaginable pain.
He now understood that this tiny slip of a girl with no blood relations and a fraught past was the most resilient and strongest person he had ever met.
Now he not only loved her. He admired her. Deeply. And he vowed to himself that if it was in his power, he would make sure Anne never went one single day on this earth without knowing she was so cherished. It was the least he could offer her in return for her affection. For he understood how lucky he was in receiving it.
Little did he know as they started their walk around Kingsport that Anne was not quite done showing her those parts of herself that she didn't let others see.
After rambling for about an hour, they stopped in the park at a pavilion that overlooked the water. Anne sat down, laying the satchel she had slung over her shoulder down on the bench next to her as Gilbert took a seat on the other side. She lazily laid her head on his shoulder as she reached around to hold her as they sat in silence. After some time, just listening to the waves crashed gently on the rocks below, Gilbert nudged Anne. "Sweetheart, we should go if we are going to make it to the party in time."
"Oh just a few more minutes, Gil. We can be a few minutes late can't we?"
Gilbert chuckled, "I suppose we can, but we still have to go home and change."
Anne sighed, "Alright, I suppose if we must."
Gilbert attempted to stand, but Anne turned to him and stayed his motion with a hand on his chest. "Wait just one second, I have something for you."
He looked at her quizzically and said, "Oh? And just what might that be?"
Anne turned to the satchel sitting by her side. She reached in and took out what looked like notebook and held it tight to her chest, as though deciding if she would truly let him have whatever it was. "I-"she began a little hesitantly. "Do you remember they day we first came to Kingsport and Pris told me my room overlooked the graveyard?"
"Of course, I remember you weren't too pleased about it then. But you seem to have changed your mind."
"Oh I have! I love St. John's now. It's such a dear place to me."
"Me too. I have enjoyed our rambles there too."
"Do remember what you said to me that day though, when you knew I had reservations about it?"
Gilbert thought back to that say on the pier. "I think I said something to the effect of it might be fun to think on all the details of the lives of the people buried there. It might be romantic."
"Yes, and you said that you thought it could be great inspiration for one of my stories."
"Yes, it seemed to have all the elements."
"Well I know I told you that thought gave me some comfort and then after I visited St. John's for the first time, I couldn't get your voice out of my head."
Gilbert was not sure where this conversation was going, but he looked down at the papers clutched to her chest and began to wonder. "Oh?" was all he said.
"Yes, and before I knew it, I was there sitting among the headstones reading names and imagining stories about people I never knew. I started writing them all down." She stopped abruptly and he saw a look of uncharacteristic uncertainty cross her face. But it lasted only a moment before she looked at him in determination. "This is for you," she said as she handed him the bound stack of papers in her hand.
Gilbert looked down to her hands, his own stretching forward to take her offered treasure. Pulling it to him he read the a title scribbled in Anne's wonderfully loopy script, "The Souls of St. John's." He looked from the paper to her and then back again, instinctively flipping through pages as he began to understand what he was holding.
"Anne, you wrote a novel?" he asked with no little shock.
"No. Not a novel, but a collection of short stories. About the people buried there. They're of course all fiction."
She looked at him expectantly, but he did not say anything. Instead he gently, almost reverently turned the pages over in his hands as though he was in possession of treasure he felt afraid would break. "Anne, this is amazing!" he finally said. "You wrote a book!" His smile beamed so bright at her that she found it hard to breath.
"It's for you, Gil."
"For me, why?" he asked, not quite understanding.
"Because you're the one who inspired it. You gave me the idea. You gave me the confidence."
"Anne-"
But she cut him off, "No, I know what you're going to say. You're going to say I could have or would have done it without you. But you're simply wrong. All of this," she said referencing the pages in his hand, "was only possible because you gave me the spark I didn't even know I wanted. But I did. You gave me this wonderful gift of teaching me what it truly meant to love and be loved in return. These stories aren't fanciful notions of knights in shining armor. What I hope they are about is the real life and real love of real people. I never would have had the courage or insight to write this had the last nine months between us not happened. This idea truly started the day at the Stone House, Gil. That was the day, if I am being honest with myself, that I knew I loved you. That was the day I gave up flights of fancy in favor of the greatest thing that has ever happened to me. You!"
Gilbert was caught quite off-guard at her speech and he could feel the tenderness creep into his eyes. What could he even say in response to this? Could it all be real? Was this really Anne Shirley in front of him telling him all this wonder? In great danger of losing his composure, he willed back the emotion and cleared his throat. "Anne, I-" he stopped and looked into her eyes, shining with so much love and devotion. He could hardly believe it. He was speechless. Utterly and totally speechless in the face of the most thoughtful, unexpected, wonderful declaration of her love he could ever hope for.
For several moments, neither of them spoke a word. They just stared into each other's eyes silently conveying messages they both seemed to understand instinctively. Seeing Anne herself on the verge of tears, Gilbert finally found his voice. "Anne, I wish I could articulate what this means to me. I mean, this is so unexpected. Are you sure you want me to have it?"
"Gil, I have never in my life been more sure about anything. I love you. This is a product of that love. And you're the only one I want to share this with."
Overcome with such emotion and love for the woman sitting beside him, Gilbert did the only thing a man so completely in love could do in that moment. Pulling Anne to her feet, he wrapped his arms around her tightly, lowered his head to hers and kissed her parted lips. The kiss wasn't passionate and heady, but more joyful and tender. This kiss conveyed his emotion and his wonder-filled gratefulness for her faith in him. When he finally released her, they were both a bit overcome with emotion, but Gilbert managed to sputter out his next words, "Thank you for trusting me with this, Anne. I am so proud of you for doing this and if you say I inspired it in you then I am humbly grateful for it."
Anne turned in his embrace and he now held her from behind as they looked out over the water. After a few minutes she broke the silence. "There's only one thing I ask of you."
Gilbert kissed her cheek and asked, "What's that?"
"Do you remember back in Avonlea when I told you my thoughts in return for your honesty at a later date?"
Gilbert did remember. "You meant about this?" he asked, stunned once again.
"I did. I wrote these for you, Gil. I know it's probably not what you are used to reading. And when you read it I want you to be honest about how it makes you feel, if you like the stories. It's all I ask of you."
"Anne, I told you then and I will tell you now, I will always be honest with you. No matter what."
"Even if you hate them?" she asked with a little hesitation.
"I sincerely doubt that will happen, Anne, but yes, even if I loathe them, I will be honest. But darling, you have to understand that I could never hate anything that was done by you or inspired by your love for me." It was the truth. "To say nothing of the fact that I know how talented you are."
Anne was touched by his words for she knew they were sincere. But the part of her that was still vaguely self-conscious about her writing was still unsure. What she had just put in his hands was the most personal thing she had ever written.
This time it was Anne's turn to kiss him. She turned in his arms and pressed her lips to his. After a few moments, they parted. "We should go if we are going to make it on time." said Anne, echoing Gilbert's words from only minutes ago.
He groaned, "Do we have to?"
"Gil, it's a party for your fraternity. You have to go. And did you not just want to moments ago?"
"Yes, well that was before you started kissing me."
They playfully argued for a few more minutes before Anne finally persuaded him to their original purpose. They walked home as dusk was beginning to settle in. In one hand Gilbert held Anne's hand. In the other he clutched a notebook of words written by his beloved. His hand fairly burned with eagerness to read it.
A tired Gilbert climbed the steps to his room rather slowly, but chuckling to himself as he thought about the evening. Anne was as radiant and beautiful as ever and standing up next to Philippa Gordon most of the night, the two made quite the pair. Gilbert watched with no little jealousy as his fellow Lambs flirted with Anne right under his nose. And Anne, in all her innocent beauty, barely noticed it for what it was. But she was so friendly and cordial; it was almost as if she couldn't help but attract his friends to her. And as he watched it all happen, his friends could not help by tease him mercilessly about it. Such was life in Lamba Theta.
Likewise, Phil was positively giddy over all the attention they received and endeavored to break the heart of every man there at least once. Gilbert had always had trouble making out Phil. At first, all he thought about her was that she was a very pretty girl with nothing but nonsense in her head. But as he got to know her, he began to see she had more depth that he had originally credited her with. She was smart, no doubt about that. She was funny. And they both seemed to bond over their affection for Anne. It was as though Phil was the one he trusted to watch over Anne when he couldn't. Not that Anne needed watching over, but something about Phil's vibrant confidence let him know that Anne was in good hands. Whatever it was about Phil that he liked, he knew it would be quite interesting next term when Anne, Phil, Stella, and Priscilla all boarded together at Patty's Place.
Gilbert made it to his room and shut the door, almost falling on the bed immediately after removing his shoes. The party went longer than he imagined and after walking Anne home, it was well past midnight. Thankfully tomorrow was Saturday. His eyes were heavy. Until he spotted the notebook he had laid there purposefully earlier that evening. As tired as he was, the pages beckoned him.
Pushing the thought of even starting out of his head, he closed his eyes. He was successful until he heard her words echo in his head
'That was the day, if I am being honest with myself, that I knew I loved you. That was the day I gave up flights of fancy in favor of the greatest thing that has ever happened to me. You!'
Slowly, he pulled the book over to him, reading the title again. He knew it was a mistake to open the first page. He knew that once he started, he might not be able to stop. Given how tired he was, he made every effort not to open that first page.
'...the greatest thing that has ever happened to me…'
But it was futile. Gilbert simply had to open the book. And when he did, it could do nothing short of change him. For the words he read on that those pages were a haunting, beautiful, realistic, declaration of Anne's love for him. It was in every word, every page, and every story. These were stories about the kinds of enduring love he had always hoped to have with her. He was completely entranced by them, as he had been by her for so long. Reading her words, knowing he had inspired him, did something to him. Something that would change him irrevocably. Something that would inspire him to action.
The last thing Gilbert saw before his eyes closed to sleep was the sun peaking through his curtains, illuminating the final words Anne had written… 'There was never a doubt from anyone who had the pleasure to know them that they would be the happiest of couples all the days of their lives.' Gilbert drifted off to sleep still fully clothed and completely exhausted, but with a smile on his face. The Gilbert who went to sleep was a boy who loved a girl. The Gilbert who woke up hours later was a man now impatient to plan a future with the woman he loved beyond reason.
