Marilla had gone up to Rachel's to borrow a cup of sugar. "I have to make another cake," she explained. "It's Anne's baby's birthday today, apparently."

"It's birthday?" Rachel asked.

"Yes. That's what she told me. She said its birthdays are on Tuesdays, and that it's twenty-six weeks old."

"That doesn't make a bit of sense- there has to be a birth before there can be a birthday," Rachel said. "And saying the baby is weeks 'old'? She's an odd one, counting it's age from the time it was conceived instead of from the time it's born. I suppose when it's born she'll say it's nine months old!"

"Maybe she just wants cake," Marilla said with amusement. "But if she's decided to celebrate each new week of the baby's existence, that's a good sign, and one I thank God for."

"Yes," Rachel said, "Until you can't fasten your corset from eating cake every week."

While the "birthday" cake was baking, Marilla sat down to look over the newest mail order catalogs that had arrived. It seemed that once she ordered books on child care, she inadvertently got herself on some sort of mailing list, because advertisements and catalogs began arriving in their post, incorrectly addressed to Merilla Cuthburt. At first she had been annoyed by all the unsolicited advertising, but she eventually decided not to write to them to request the mail stop, because there may be something useful in it. Today there was a catalog of children's books.

Matthew came in and washed his hands, then commented on how good the cake smelled.

Marilla smiled at him, and he sat down, looking over the mail with her.

Anne came downstairs due to the inviting aroma.

"Are you making a birthday cake, Marilla?" she asked excitedly.

Marilla nodded. "Just like you wanted."

"What kind is it? Wait, don't tell me, I want to guess by the smell!"

Anne shut her eyes and made her way toward the oven, arms outstretched to feel her way.

"Anne!" Marilla said sharply, alarmed. "You'll burn your hands. Open your eyes at once!"

Anne stopped and opened them. She looked down at 'Merilla' with her catalog of books.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Children's books," Marilla said. "Perhaps you'd like to look and see if there's something you want."

Anne glanced down at the page. "Those are books for little children. I can read better than that."

"I meant for the baby, Anne."

"Oh."

Anne sat down to look. Feeling sure that the baby had liked her telling of The Three Bears- and with her promise to show it a real bear when it came out, because "then you'll understand the story better"- she thought she should see if there was a copy of The Three Bears, so she could make good on her promise.

"I don't know," she eventually said, looking at the prices. There were some cheaper books toward the bottom of the page, but the ones she couldn't help being most attracted to were beautiful volumes that cost more money than she felt comfortable asking for.

Matthew thought he knew the problem.

"We'll happily get you anything you like, Anne," he told her quietly.

She smiled at him, appreciating his gentle and giving ways.

Then she remembered, "I have my own money. Emily paid me last week."

Although, Emily's babysitting money didn't really go a long way. Anne wanted more than she could have. She appreciated Matthew's offer, but felt that since she had her own money, she ought to use it.

"You don't just have your babysitting money," Marilla reminded her. "You have your own bank account- quite a hefty one- and you're free to do with it whatever you please. You could buy a whole library of books, and it wouldn't even make a dent."

Anne's face clouded over. "I don't want to use their money. I'd rather have nothing at all than use their money."

"But you wouldn't be using it," Matthew said. "The baby would be using it."

"That's what it's for, isn't it?" Marilla asked. "That's why they gave it to you- to buy things for the baby."

"They don't care about what the baby needs! They only gave us that money to try to smooth things over so the mess could go away. I'm surprised they didn't offer you money to move away from Avonlea so they could pretend we don't exist!"

"Anne," Marilla said patiently. "They gave the money because they knew it wasn't fair for Billy not to have to cover any of the expenses."

"Oh, it wasn't fair," Anne said, feeling bitter. "It wasn't fair for Billy not to cover any expenses? It's also not fair for Billy not to have to change diapers and get up in the night with a crying baby and-"

"Would you want him to?" Marilla asked sharply. "You want him to come over here and be in our house with the baby? Or have to go over there to bring the baby back and forth, so that it's fair?"

"No, I don't!" Anne said, angry. "I don't want to have anything to do with him…I just don't think it's fair that he doesn't have to!"

"Well," Marilla said, more calmly now, "I know you were considering finding another home for the baby, and you mentioned how it would be difficult to even locate someone. …But we never thought about the Andrews being a resource, there."

"They don't want it."

"No, I doubt they'd have any interest in keeping it. But I suppose we could have at least asked. Suppose we did ask, and they were willing. Would that be an acceptable solution to you? You wouldn't have to keep it, and you wouldn't have to try to find someone to take it, either."

Anne felt all right about the baby for a little while in her bedroom, but now the reminder of where it came from made it harder to accept. Still, she didn't really want the Andrews to take it off her hands. So she said, "…If they found someone for it, maybe. But not if they kept it themselves!"

Marilla nodded. "We can ask them to be on the lookout, then. They might be of some assistance there."

Anne hesitated. "But what if they didn't find someone and then they decided to just keep it?"

"Well, I don't know, Anne. I…I hate to think they'd treat the baby as a pawn, but I suppose once they were in possession of it, they might make trouble for you if you wanted it back…I don't want to worry you, but it's best to be realistic."

That settled it; Anne could not allow the Andrews to be involved in finding a home for the baby, just in case they would decide to hold it from her if she wanted it back.

"I hate feeling like there are no choices," Anne said, upset.

Matthew hugged her close to him.

She said glumly, "You know what? I wish Billy wanted to see the baby…I wish he was just begging to see it. Because then I could tell him no and refuse to let him see it, and then he'd see how it feels to be left with no choice!"

"I know," Matthew said quietly. "It weren't right."

The smell of the baby's 'birthday' cake was filling the kitchen. "Poor little thing," Anne said softly, looking down. "I'm sorry. I'll get you some books, even though I don't like using their money…I won't let my hating them keep you from having nice things."

Matthew and Marilla looked at each other.

Trying to ignore the aspect of shopping that involved using the Andrew's money, Anne enjoyed looking through the catalogs. She circled the things she liked.

But soon her face changed, and she pushed the catalog away from her.

"Anne?" Matthew asked. "What is it?"

"Nothing."

Marilla took the catalog from her.

Anne's eyes had storm clouds behind them.

Finally Anne explained, "Look at the story books."

"What are we looking for?" Marilla asked, as she and Matthew looked down at the page.

"Don't you notice anything about the titles and the pictures of the book covers?"

"No," Marilla admitted. "Should I have?"

She pointed quickly to each book cover that stood out to her.

The two tried to find something they all had in common, but he came up emptyhanded.

"Almost every story is…" she shook her head. "They just won't work. …Not if I keep the baby. None of them work."

"Can you tell us why?" Matthew and Marilla were confused: For all Anne talked, she wasn't always very good at explaining herself.

"The three bears. A mama and papa bear with their baby bear. Oh and here's one called My Mama and Papa Love Me. And here's a good one- The Little Family! Don't you see? I can't give the baby stories that have a mama and a papa and all that. What if the little creature asks why he- or she- doesn't have…what they have?"

"Not all the stories are like that," Marilla said gently. "Three Little Pigs doesn't have parents in it. Neither does the Three Billy Goats Gruff. And here's Henny Penny, that's a good one."

Matthew began searching the page for more books. "There are fairy tales, Anne, those don't always have mothers and fathers."

Marilla said, reasonably, "When the baby's little, it won't be connecting stories to life. He- or she- will just be listening to them for entertainment."

"I can't risk it," she said firmly.

Matthew nodded. "All right. I'm sure there are more in here that don't. We'll just have to keep looking, that's all."

"I like this one," Anne said wistfully. "The cover looks so pretty. It's a book of prayers and it starts out with a poem called 'Out in the Fields with God'. Doesn't that sound lovely? And I can't get it because it likely has some little verse in it about thanking God for our mothers and fathers."

"Order it," Matthew told her. "And if it has something about fathers, we'll send it back."

Anne was sad. "Things will always be this way. For me. For the baby. If I keep it. Even if I find books that don't say anything about fathers, at some point the baby's going to play with other children, or go to school and it'll come up. She, or he, is going to come home and ask me why every other child has a father and not them."

Marilla and Matthew did not know what to say.

But Anne went on, trying to find solutions: "Maybe I could pretend to be a widow! I'll tell the little creature that his father died tragically when he…saved someone's life. In a terrible accident. He was a hero! No, that won't work- I'll still be here in Avonlea, too many people know the truth. Besides, nobody in their right mind would look at a girl my age and believe she's a widow! They'd know I'm just an unwed mother."

After a moment of thought, she said: "I suppose if it asks where it's father is, I'll say, 'You don't have one. I'm sorry. I never had one either, so I understand how you must feel sad about not having one, it is very unfortunate'. …Do you think that's enough? …No, no, it's not; what if the baby asks why it doesn't have one? I suppose I'll have to tell them, 'You have a father, but only in the sense that every person born must have had one- a baby doesn't get made without a mother and a father, after all- so, yes, you do have a father- but you can't meet him.' …Ugh, no, because then it'll just ask why it can't meet him!"

"Don't borrow trouble, Anne, you won't have to think of such things for many years," Marilla told her. "But if you're so insistent on going down this path of thought, and I can't detract you from it, then fine, if the baby asks why it can't meet it's own father then you ought to just say that he lives far away, off the island, and he can't come back, and then you remind the baby that it's got lots of other lovely people around it who all love it so much…that should be enough for a small child, I think."

Anne considered that. "You don't think he, or she, will have more questions?"

"Not so young."

"I'm worried- when they grow up they're going to have questions- and I don't know the best way to handle them."

"I think at some point, when this baby is an adult or close to it, that you'll just have to tell them the truth."

"Then maybe I shouldn't keep it," Anne said with a sigh. "Not if I'll have to tell it the truth."

Matthew looked at her with love and hope in his eyes. "Don't think on it too much. Things have a way of working out."