Anne took Marilla's arm and helped her back to her room.
"Really, you ought to have called out for me, I would have come to help you," Anne told her. "I'm always right here, you know."
Marilla, already emotional over the memory of wishing their precious baby out of existence- was now emotional, too, about realizing that should she ever need someone to rely on- and surely she would, as she aged- that she had Anne- this lovely young lady who she'd grown to love so much.
But all she said was, "Thank you."
Anne pulled back her covers, waited, then smoothed them down again once Marilla was in.
"You stay right here," she said firmly, "And I'll bring you everything you need. What was it you were going downstairs to get?"
"A towel," Marilla said, her eyes closing. "A warm towel to lay over my eyes." She hated to ask someone else to wait on her, but she hadn't asked, had she? Anne had offered, and she loved her for it.
Once the warm towel was over her eyes, providing some weight on them, and hiding all trace of light, she felt she could relax somewhat.
Hours later she had to arise to use her chamber pot, not wanting to make it all the way downstairs and out to the privy. She washed her hands in her washbowl and went right back to bed.
When she awoke again later, the chamber pot had been emptied, and her washbowl had fresh water in it with a new towel and there was a sprig of lavender lying on it with a note that said, "Walter wants to tell you he hopes you feel better soon. And so do I. I'll come in and check to see if you can eat some supper, so don't get up. I'll take care of everything."
My dear girl, was her absentminded thought as she drifted off again.
With Marilla out of commision and Anne left with all the housework, they relied on Matthew to look after Walter. Anne still changed the toddler's diapers, not wanting Matthew to have to do the most unpleasant of tasks, but the rest of the time he was Matthew's charge.
Matthew found that Walter needed all of his food cut into tiny little pieces, which he had never really noticed Anne doing at mealtimes.
Walter needed his face wiped off after eating.
Walter needed to be held onto as he went up and down the stairs, and couldn't be left unwatched for fear he'd try to climb up onto something.
Walter took a very long time to do anything he did...which patient Matthew didn't mind a bit.
The only thing Walter did quickly was run, whenever something struck his fancy and he dashed from the room, making Matthew go as quick as he could to chase after him.
"Grandpa grandpa grandpa," he would say when he wanted Matthew's attention.
Matthew couldn't help smiling at this.
He remembered with fondness how Walter used to call him Mafoo, back before they'd arrived at being grandparents.
It was Anne who'd done it; one day she'd made the announcement that Walter saying Mar-Mar and Mafoo would not be cute for long. "You need proper titles," she'd decided.
"You call us Marilla and Matthew," Marilla had said plainly. "He can do the same."
"No, he cannot do the same," Anne declared. "Do you remember when you decided I could stay here for good? I wanted to call you Aunt Marilla, but you wouldn't let me, and-"
"You want him to call us aunt and uncle, then? I suppose that would be all right," Marilla said briskly, cutting her off before she could launch into a speech. Truth be told, Marilla did not want to be reminded of that particular incident at all. She could see, now, that the poor child was just so desperate to feel she had a real family. And Marilla felt stingy for denying her that simple wish.
"I thought about it," Anne said. "Aunt Marilla would be all right, except it sounds confusing. How can you be his aunt and uncle if you're my parents?"
Marilla hid the pleased smile and flush as she turned to get plates from the cupboard. "Oh, we're your parents? ...Not a pretend Aunt any longer?"
"Of course you're my parents," Anne spoke with a passion. "How could you be anything less? So by natural order it would stand to reason that you're his grandparents."
"Grandparents, eh?" Matthew had remarked, a smile playing on his lips.
"Yes, grandparents," Anne said.
"Do we get any say in this?" Marilla asked, a touch amused but hoping it didn't show.
"No," Anne told her. "The only one who gets a say is Walter. So what do you say, Walter- should they be grandma and grandpa?"
"Yes yes yes," Walter said happily.