3. Rilla Makes a Discovery
3.1 A Difficult Night

"Don't you dare … no, oh now look at what you've done!" Rilla Blythe was having a tough time of it.

Three weeks ago, Rilla had temporarily adopted a war baby. His father was fighting 'for King and country'; his mother had tragically died bringing him into the world and Rilla, as she told herself, had bravely taken on the infant's care. Although nervous at first and with no love of babies, she deftly and efficiently cared for the infant. Rilla was proud that Jims, as the baby was known, had gained eight ounces under her care.

Determined to do this right, Rilla followed every instruction in 'Morgan on Infants' to the letter. Morgan had said that babies require routine and so she had created one. Monday, wash his clothes; Tuesday, mend any clothes that needed repairing; Wednesday, make new clothes ready for his next growth spurt; Thursday, read up on what he would need in the months ahead. That left Friday and Saturday nights to visit with friends should the occasion arise. All-in-all, she considered she had everything in hand for the months ahead.

Until last night.

Her siblings had departed for college (Walter, Nan and Di fo Redmond; Shirley for Queens), apart from Jem, of course, who had enlisted. Susan had gone to Charlottetown to visit with an old friend and wouldn't be back until the following Thursday. Anne and Gilbert were planning to spend the night at Dr and Mrs Parkers. When they realised Rilla would be home alone with Jims they talked of postponing their plans, but Rilla was insistent they go.

On the Friday morning Anne sought Rilla out to check once more, finding her in her room sorting through Jims' clothes.

We don't mind cancelling the Parkers if you'd like company tonight," Anne commented

"Don't even think about it," responded Rilla cheerfully. "I have a perfect system for looking after the baby. Look! I have five clean outfits left which means when I wash on Monday, I will still have two in reserve." Anne looked at the five items dubiously, "perhaps I could wash some for you before I go, just in case…"

"You worry too much Mother," Rilla responded, smiling. "I have it all under control. Go! Enjoy your evening and I'll have tea waiting for you when you return tomorrow."

How wrong she'd been.

Anne and Gilbert enjoyed their evening but were keen to leave the Parkers early the next morning. They trusted Rilla completely but knew how challenging babies could be and wanted to support her.

"I'm so proud of Rilla," Anne said to Gilbert as they walked home from the station. "No need to smirk," she added slapping Gilbert lightly as he pulled a quizzical face. "She's doing an amazing job with young Jims."

Gilbert laughed, "I was teasing, I agree Anne-Girl, I'm proud of her too. She's certainly risen to the occasion and," he added teasingly, as they approached their home, "Ingleside is still standing." Anne slapped him playfully again, before walking ahead to open the front door.

Gilbert had spoken too soon.

It was hard to believe it was the same place they'd left twenty-four hours earlier. As they opened the door, they were hit by the smell of baby - not the fresh baby powder adorable baby smell, the noxious combination of projectile explosions from both ends.

The living room had become a jungle of baby blankets, muslin cloths, and nappies. All of which needed laundering. Their usually fashionable, neat daughter was still in her kimono her hair falling out of its hastily created bun and a smear of what they hoped was dirt across her forehead. She looked like she hadn't slept all night (which indeed she hadn't). On the floor was the pile of the five outfits Rilla had proudly shown Anne the day before, now all now soiled, and in her arms was a crying baby with one of Rilla's nightgowns pined around it and a hand towel hastily pinned as a nappy.

Without a word, Anne went to Rilla, relieved her of Jims and handed him to Gilbert.

Gilbert did a quick check that nothing was amiss and then proceeded to soothe the baby. Anne folded her arms around Rilla who immediately burst into tears.

"I thought I was doing so well," Rilla wailed.

"You were darling, you are. Babies are unpredictable. One day you have five clean outfits, then next they're wearing your nightgown."

Rilla tried to smile at the joke but only cried harder.

"Go freshen up," said Anne gently. "When you come back, we'll work it out together."

Without argument, Rilla headed upstairs to wash and dress.

Thirty minutes later Rilla was clean and dressed sitting next to her mother. The soiled clothing was soaking in the copper out the back, and a steaming pot of tea and buttered toast was in front of them. Gilbert walked behind the sofa gently rocking a now clean and sleeping baby (who was wearing a different nightgown).

"You must be so ashamed of me," said Rilla.

"Nonsense," said the doctor. "Jims isn't the first Ingleside baby to have a nightgown and a hand towel pinned around him!" He turned to Anne who had taken over the pouring of the tea, "do you remember Anne-Girl when we bought Shirley home and you didn't have a stitch prepared. I think he wore one of the girls' chemises for two days until you had outfits ready for him."

Rilla nodded, then stopped had she heard right?

"I must be more tired than I thought," she said leaning back in her chair. "I thought you just said you 'brought Shirley home', but he born here, we all were. Well, except Jem, 'the House-of-Dreams-baby, of course."

Anne and Gilbert exchanged puzzled glances. "Rilla," Anne said hesitantly. "You know Shirley's adopted, we've never made a secret of it."

Rilla started at her mother, "Shirley's adopted?"

"When? How? But…?" Rilla confusedly tried to make sense of how she never knew this.

"The others were here when we you brought him home," Gilbert said to Anne.

"I suppose we just assumed you knew," said Anne. She paused, "drink your tea, darling," Anne was concerned at the colour Rilla had turned, "I'll tell you the story."