no real shirbert here sorry but next chapter has wedding preparation stuff in it including choosing anne's wedding dress
"Do you know when you might want to have the wedding?"
Four years ago, was Anne's thought, but to Marilla she said, "Probably Christmas. I know it's an unusual time for a wedding but it's too late to have it this summer and in the fall nobody will be here to come to it. I asked Gilbert if he wanted to wait until spring, because I thought if we delayed it some more then maybe I could…" Anne bit her lip, looking down at her son.
"You could…" Marilla took a breath. "Oh, Anne…."
"...he said we shouldn't wait for that, that it doesn't matter and we can go ahead and get married anyway. I don't really want to wait that long either. It was just a thought."
"Well, I'm glad he feels that way," Marilla said briskly. "Rachel said married life might not be an option for you and I admit I'd been worrying, but if he's willing to...to wait, then we can all rest easy about it."
Anne made a face. "Married life might not be for me? She's the one who wanted you and the Andrews to drag us to the courthouse and make us marry each other!"
"She never wanted the two of you to be together. She only wanted the license on record for the sake of the baby," Marilla said calmly, "because it would be unfortunate for him that his birth certificate says his parents weren't married."
"Well, it was a rotten idea, anyway," Anne grumbled.
"I quite agree," Marilla said, though she hadn't approved of Anne's choice of language.
"I mean, I understand what she meant," Anne said slowly.
Marilla nodded. "Yes. I do feel for Walter- his birth certificate will be a problem for him in life, but there was no way we could have allowed-"
"It makes me sound awfully selfish, though, doesn't it," Anne interrupted flatly. "He wouldn't be considered a bastard child if I'd have gone to the courthouse and made myself a sacrificial lamb."
Marilla could not be exasperated at Anne's dramatics on this point, or her choice of words, and so all she did was reach out, patting Anne on the shoulder. "I didn't mean it that way, dear," she said gently. "Well, we can't do anything about his birth certificate, but at least he won't grow up fatherless, will he?"
Anne finally smiled. "No, he won't grow up fatherless. At least there's that."
This conversation had gone over Walter's head; he didn't understand and was busy looking at the birds chirping in the trees. They went out to the clothesline, and Anne set down their basket.
"It'll be exciting to get to live together," Marilla said, her voice bright as she began to take the washing down from the line. Anne was helping her, and even Walter was, by taking the wooden clothespins as Marilla handed them down to him one by one. "If you think about it, this is the first time in your life you've been able to choose for yourself who you live with! No more being told where to go, moving in with strangers and hoping they're decent to you."
"That's true," Anne realized. "That's very interesting."
"...You'll have many happy years ahead, I'm sure."
Anne smiled, knowing she would, and knowing that finally- finally- things were looking up for her.
"I know Gilbert's house is already furnished," Marilla said, "But there are several things I thought you ought to take with you. Some of our rugs and quilts and things in the spare room, and the like." Her face pink, she said falteringly, "Just to give you a little reminder of...home."
Anne noticed just the tiniest hint of moisture in her mother's eyes.
Walter could not go out in the fields with his grandpa today, and Mama was not paying any attention to him because she was writing something, so he went looking for Grandma.
He found her in her room, with the door shut. She was making funny noises, and he reached up to turn the doorknob with great effort; the doors were heavy and the knob was hard to turn.
He toddled in to find Grandma on her bed, facing away from him. He reached out and poked her in the arm.
Startled, she turned to face him. In her upset, she had not heard the little boy come in at all.
"Walter," she said, swallowing and clearing her throat.
"You crying," Walter said, climbing up beside her. "Did you fall down and get a boo boo?" He snuggled next to her. "I make it all better."
Marilla couldn't help laughing a bit at that. "No, darling," she said, wiping her eyes. "I didn't fall down and get a boo boo. I'm quite all right, you're not to worry."
Walter looked up at her. "Why are you sad?"
"I'm not sad," Marilla insisted. "I'm very happy because your mama and Gilbert are going to get married and that will be a lovely thing."
"Then why are you crying?" Walter asked sensibly.
"Oh," Marilla straightened up and laid her handkerchief on the bedspread. "I'll miss her when you all go to Gilbert's house. Of course we'll all see each other often. Nothing will change, really- we'll still be one big happy family. But I'll miss having her right here with us." She tried to brighten up. "But it's going to be such fun for you, to have your Gil-ber with you all the time. I know you love him very much."
"I love you, too," Walter told her. "I stay with you, Grandma. Then you won't be sad. And we can keep playing."
"Oh, no, darling," Marilla said, touched. "You'll have your own bedroom there, just for you, and you'll never have to say goodbye to Gil-ber, and your mama will be so happy."
Walter was confused. He didn't understand why Grandma's words were happy when her eyes were sad?
"Now, I must get up, and get about the work of the day," Marilla said, more to herself than to Walter.
Walter watched her pace a bit, wiping her eyes, and then she said, "I need to wash my face."
She poured water from her pitcher into her washbowl and dipped her soap into it. When she was finished, she brought her towel to her face, using it to have a moment to herself, resting her face in it and breathing.
"I need to wash my face, too," Walter announced.
Marilla laughed. He had no reason to need to wash his face, only doing it because his Grandma had. But Marilla brought him to the bowl and washed it anyway. As she wiped his little round face with the wet towel, she took a shaky breath, wishing she could keep him this little for all of time.
"Let's play now," Walter said, pulling on her.
"All right, what shall we play?" Marilla asked, standing up straighter and trying to get herself back to how she wanted to be.
"Gil-ber has a pond," Walter began.
"Yes."
"We don't got a pond," Walter went on.
"No, we don't," Marilla agreed.
Walter grinned. "We can make a pond."
"How do we do that?" Marilla asked, amused with him.
Walter pulled her along to the kitchen, where he said, "The table is the big rock in the middle of the pond."
"All right."
"And the kitchen floor is all the water," he explained to her. He began hopping up and down in the 'water'. "I'm a frog," he told her. "Look at me."
He began singing out "Ribbit, ribbit," as he hopped all around the kitchen, and Marilla was once again filled with the desire to keep him this way.
Finally she sat down. "I'll just watch you hop. Grandma's too old to be a frog."
Walter, still hopping, said, "You don't hop, Grandma."
Marilla nodded. "Good."
Walter went on cheerfully, "You don't hop 'cause you not a frog. You a duck. Ducks don't hop. They go quack, quack."
Marilla did not hear Rachel at the door.
Rachel, as she sometimes did, came in of her own accord, and found her composed, proper friend bent slightly over, her knees at a funny angle and her hands tucked up underneath her armpits to look like wings, following Walter around the kitchen, quacking at him.
Mid-quack, Marilla turned and found Rachel standing there, her hands on her hips and her mouth ready for laughter. "As I live and breathe, Marilla Cuthbert!" Rachel began.
"If you breathe a word of this to anyone," Marilla almost hissed, taking her hands from underneath her armpits, "Your little steam-envelope-opening trick is going to be brought to light quicker than you can say quack."
