Matthew played games with Walter almost constantly, continuing to be amazed by how the little boy had such dexterity and such accuracy in his physical movement at such a young age. Besides that, he had a strong arm for throwing a ball.
Anne- for reasons Matthew was well aware of- could not see Walter's gifts. It was a shame, he thought, that she couldn't see anything beyond what he was lacking.
But Matthew knew there was more to a person than their ability to sit in a classroom full of other people and give answers out loud.
"We oughta have a party," he said at dinner, very abruptly.
Marilla and Anne stared at him- forks paused mid air.
"A party?" Marilla echoed, as if she thought she'd heard wrong, or perhaps Matthew somehow didn't understand what the word meant.
"For Walter, have his little friends over...for a party," he went on.
They were still staring.
Anne was almost in shock, but answered, "His birthday isn't til August.".
"Could be fun," he finished lamely. Then he went back to eating his dinner.
Marilla and Anne looked at each other.
"Why is it that you, of all people, suggested a party?" Marilla asked later, when they were alone. "What on earth has possessed you?"
"Thought it would be nice for Anne...for Walter. To play with his friends," Matthew said with a shrug.
Marilla thought her brother had ulterior motives. She had known him too long to believe he was suddenly filled with the desire for company. "He sees his friends at church, in the nursery. And he sees them while Anne spends time with Emily's circle." Marilla eyed her brother. She set down her dish towel and turned to him. "What's this all about?"
"Well, now," Matthew began. "Children like party games...nine pins, ring toss, clothespins in the bucket...things like that."
Marilla was still looking at him with suspicion.
Matthew gave up, telling the truth: "Be a good thing for Anne to notice Walter's the best at something."
Marilla understood. "Ahh, I see."
Matthew went on humbly, "Seems to me, mothers like thinking their child stands out from other children."
"I believe that," Marilla said. "You can't be in a group of mothers without hearing someone laud their children to the high heavens!" She sat down at the table with Matthew. "But Anne hasn't done that with Walter. ...There was that time Dr. Carter listened to Walter's lungs with a stethoscope and Anne proclaimed his lungs to be better than other babies- why, I don't know! I remember telling her he'd better have good lungs if he was going to talk a mile a minute like she does." She smiled, amused at how Anne had babbled on at the time, then she shook her head. "Beyond that one instance long ago, she never seems to think he's worth praising!"
"I sorta thought when he won that contest at the fair, that it would make her proud of him," Matthew admitted.
"The trouble with that contest," Marilla pointed out, "It was all about looks- and Anne is well aware of where his looks come from."
Matthew just nodded.
"She's making me a bit unhinged with her constant comparison," Marilla said exhaling. "The poor baby can't help whose face and hair he's got...and he can't help it if he has the mental aptitude of Billy either! ...Yes, let's have other little ones over for a party. Anne must see that Walter is good at something."
The party was held on a Saturday afternoon. Anne had to explain that no, gifts should not be given; it was not his birthday. Toddlers and tiny "young'uns" as Matthew called them, came in bunches until at last they were all there, and Marilla organized them into games.
Anne watched with interest as Walter easily won every game, no other child even coming close to his skill.
By the time Marilla brought out the cake and ice cream, Anne seemed to be more positive toward her son. Matthew had said mothers like thinking their child stands out from other children.
And, as so often was the case, Matthew was right.
Easter fell on April 15 that year, and Anne, a little over a month into being seventeen, decided she wanted to make good with Jane. It had been months since they'd last spoken.
She felt guilty, now, for shutting Jane out, because Jane had done nothing. It was her mother. But Jane was too close to the situation, and after Mrs. Andrews had sent Walter's photograph to Billy, Anne did not want anything to do with the whole family.
Dear Jane, she wrote;
How are you? How has your year in school been? I miss you very much. Walter misses you too. He liked looking at the pictures in the book you sent. When I told him it came from Aunt Jane, he was so happy, and asked when you were going to come visit him. It's been a while. He's grown two inches taller since you saw him last, and he can say ever so many new words. He's also proven to have some talent- I won't tell you more but will wait until you are home to see it for yourself.
Jane, I'm sorry I refused to talk to you these past months. It wasn't fair to you, and I regret taking my anger out on you when it was so undeserved. I hope you can forgive me.
Anne
She did not receive a response- in writing. The next Saturday, Jane was at her door.
On Easter Sunday, Jane sat with Anne, Gilbert, Walter, Marilla and Matthew at church, instead of with her parents. Anne worried Mr. and Mrs. Andrews would be upset by this, and while Mr. Andrews did consider it to be a betrayal, Mrs. Andrews was glad one of them could be with Walter, even if it couldn't be her.
After church, there was an egg roll for children. Anne's first thought was to be glad it was an egg roll and not a search, because she doubted that Walter would have done well in a search.
As it was, they all watched Walter race with his egg and spoon, beating every other child in his age division. And Anne found that instead of focusing on what Walter couldn't do, she was able to be proud of what he could do.
For winning, Walter was given a big chocolate rabbit. Anne would not let him eat it until they got home, because it would have been rude for him to eat it while the others only had small chocolate crosses.
Before heading home, Mrs. Andrews went to her family's carriage and took out a big basket of easter eggs to pass out to all of the children in the nursery. Anne was not pleased.
The eggs were mostly pink, made of pressed cardboard, fragile, with magazine pictures of flowers and ribbons decoupaged on them. Hmm, I wonder why she chose the nursery children to give those to, Anne thought disparagingly. The grade-school age children would have handled them better. But then, the grade-school age children don't have anything she wants, do they?
But Walter and Clara ran to Anne with their treasures, Walter excitedly shouting, "Look what Aunt Jane's mama gave us!"
Jane, who did not know her mother had been planning to pass things out to Walter's group, looked nervously to Anne for a reaction. But Anne could not cause Walter upset, so she put on a smile and said, "How nice." It was not her most pleased smile.
"Look at my egg," Walter announced, demanding the attention of Mrs. Evelyn Rhine, a woman part of Emily's circle. He held up the cardboard egg. The egg came apart in halves, and the inside was plastered in pale green newsprint.
"That's very pretty," Evelyn said. "Where did you get it, Walter?"
"Church," he said loudly. "Aunt Jane's mama!"
"Walter, stop talking so loud," Anne scolded.
"He's two, isn't he?"
"Two and eight months," Anne provided.
Evelyn laughed. "At that age, my Elliot had only one volume!"
Anne couldn't help smiling.
"My egg has a chicken in it," Walter went on, tapping it with his little finger.
"Walter, you know perfectly well there is nothing inside that egg," Anne reminded him.
"That's cuz the chicken isn't born yet," Walter insisted. "When it's born then it's gonna be in the egg."
"That doesn't make sense," Anne said, shaking her head. "Chickens start inside eggs and when they're born they come out of the egg. Oh- why am I arguing with him? He hasn't any sense and he won't listen to a thing I say."
Walter sat down on the grass and shook the egg. "Hi, chicken," he called into it. "Come out soon."
They all laughed.
Walter took the pink egg everywhere with him, until the cardboard was dirty from his little hands.
Before leaving to go back to school, Jane said, "I want you to know I haven't told my mother even one thing about him."
Anne felt terrible. "Oh, Jane, I know- I'm sorry for you."
"My mother has given up on the idea of you and my brother, anyway, so you don't have to worry she's going to try something like that again!" Jane confided, purposely avoiding using Billy's name. "She wanted me to tell you that she feels regretful of it."
"Of course she regrets it, it's what got her cut off from Walter," Anne couldn't help saying.
"She said she wouldn't expect anything from you in future. But I told her I wouldn't pass messages back and forth for her. ...I'm only telling you that so you won't worry about her trying anything underhanded!"
Anne wanted to be relieved at this, but she could not.
After all, hadn't Mrs. Andrews just conspired a sneaky way to give Walter a little gift without having to go through Anne first? It was perfectly clear that Mrs. Andrews hadn't given all the nursery children a gift because she wanted them to have one- it was the only way she could manage to give something to Walter.
Anne did not know if Mrs. Andrews was even being honest about not trying to play matchmaker anymore, and what's more, if she would hold to that promise.
But at least she felt happier with her son.
When Jane left, Walter threw himself at Anne, dropping the egg and letting it roll away. "Sing the song," he demanded.
"What song?" Gilbert said, laughing. "He keeps asking for the donkey song, and I don't know it."
"Oh- it's all he wants to hear these days," Anne said with a little laugh herself.
"Gil-ber hear mama's donkey song," Walter said, moving from Anne's arms back to Gilbert's.
"Sweetly sings the donkey, at the break of day. If you do not feed him, this is what he'll say: Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw!"
And then Walter's delighted giggle turned into loud, happy laughter, as Gilbert began turning him upside down every time Anne sang "Hee-haw."