"He's lost his babyish roundness! He doesn't even really look like a baby anymore," Anne said, her chin wavering. "When you have a two year old that's a baby, and when you have a three year old they're kind of still a baby just a little bit, but a four year old isn't a baby and if I call him my baby he tells me he isn't a baby!"

Gilbert laughed a little. "Anne, he can't stay a baby forever."

That brought to Anne's mind a thought she had when Walter was less than a year old and she was so tired of having to deal with him at all. Back then, she had thought about how miserable it would be to have to haul around a baby for the rest of her life. Marilla had laughed at this and told Anne that Walter wouldn't stay a baby. Anne, in her depression, had somehow not been fully aware of this fact, and had brightened up, thinking optimistically: That's right. He won't stay little. He'll keep getting older and then he'll grow up and go away and I won't have to think about him anymore! The thought had made her feel better. Now, it broke her heart.


Anne baked Walter's birthday cake all by herself, making it a layer cake with white frosting. Gilbert bought jellybeans for her, and he brought them over the afternoon of the party, so she could use them to spell out W-A-L-T-E-R across the top of the cake.

"Four cakes, mama," Walter said happily when he saw it. "I have four cakes!"

Heaven help me, he can't even count well enough to know that there is only one cake sitting here in front of him, Anne thought. But even though she was annoyed with him, she did not show her annoyance. Instead, she tried to explain patiently:

"Walter, this is one cake. Four would be this many," Anne said, holding up four fingers so he could see. "Look at mama's hand- one, two, three, four. That's four. You have one cake here. See? One."

But Walter could count to four, and showed her. He held up his own hand. "But I have a cake now I'm four. That means I had a birthday cake four times. One now, and one for each of this many."

His explanation didn't make a lot of sense, but Anne got it perfectly. "Right," she said, pleased with him. She tapped his fingers: "You had a cake when you were one, and another when you were two, and then three, and now four. You're right, you had four birthday cakes."

Then she had another thought. "You know what, Walter? You've had more than four birthday cakes. We had a lot of birthday cakes when you were a little tiny baby. Back then, you had...eleven of them."

"Eleven?" Walter asked with surprise. He had no idea what eleven meant, but mama showed him that it was even more than all his fingers.

Eleven cakes, she recalled. I started celebrating his little weekly 'birthdays' when he was turning twenty-six weeks old, and it was just after he turned thirty-seven weeks old that he was finally born...

"I don't remember all those cakes," Walter said sadly.

"Well, you were teeny-tiny then. Of course you wouldn't remember. But mama ate the cake, and you ate everything mama ate."

Anne had not yet told him that a baby comes from a mama's tummy- and he had not yet thought to ask where babies come from- so she left that part out.

"Grandma, I eated eleven cakes!" Walter said as Marilla walked in.

"What? Anne, you didn't-" Marilla came in, seeing Anne's finished product, jellybeans and all. "Why, that's perfect. What a nice job you did. Walter, don't you have a kind mama to bake you a big lovely cake?"

Anne beamed.

"Eleven is this many," Walter explained, holding up seven fingers. Anne sighed.

Gilbert rubbed Anne's back. "Eleven is a big number," he said to Walter. "You did a good job trying. Are you ready to have your birthday cake this afternoon?"

Walter nodded happily.


"You know what Walter's birthday means," Anne sighed after Walter had followed Marilla into the parlor.

"What?" Gilbert asked.

"Mrs. Andrews will start interfering."

"She hasn't seen him in a long time," Gilbert said, surprised.

"She sees him every week at church."

"I meant alone. She doesn't spend time alone with him."

"It doesn't matter if she's close or far," Anne pointed out. "Either way she can see him, and he looks more like her son every day! She practically drools over him at church."

"Are you sure you aren't...exaggerating, just a little?"

Anne replied, "We should ask her what the reverend's sermons are about. I bet she won't know. She doesn't pay any attention to them. She's too busy daydreaming that we'll all be one big happy family."

Gilbert shook his head. He couldn't argue with her, she was probably right.

"And she knows it's his birthday. Last year she left him a present, even though I'd been refusing to speak to her for goodness knows how long. She hasn't been allowed to be alone with him all year- maybe longer. Let's see what she does this year to worm her way into his life."

"Would you like me to go talk to her?" Gilbert asked. "I could tell her she's not welcome."

Anne shook her head. "I'd rather just ignore her. That's what I've been doing. I don't look at her in church. I can feel her eyes on me, but I never look."

"All right. But if you change your mind and want me to talk to her, just let me know and I will," Gilbert promised.

"Thank you," Anne said quietly.


Walter's guests began arriving at a quarter past three. He was so excited that Anne finally had to pick him up and hold him for a few minutes to get him settled down, because she wanted him to calm down a bit before he knocked anyone over. But she didn't mind holding him. It won't be much longer, she realized, soon he'll be too big to hold.

His birthday was lovely, and he- like usual- won all the games. When Anne brought his cake out, he began pulling off the jellybeans. He took one and handed the other one to Clara.

"Walter!" Don't touch the cake!" Anne exclaimed. "Wait for it to be cut and for everyone to have some!"

Walter and Clara quickly put the jellybeans in their mouths.

Anne shook her head. "I'm sorry, everyone. I'll make sure you get pieces he hasn't put his hands into."

Walter and Clara thought that pulling off the jellybeans had been the most hilarious thing in the world, and every few minutes one of them would whisper "jellybean" to the other, as if it was their inside joke, and they'd both break into giggles.

Clara looked so pretty with her big shining eyes and blonde ringlets. Her fluffy lavender dress and white boots with pearl buttons made her look like a little china doll. Emily had even gotten Clara her very own little lace parasol. And for the first time Anne could see that Walter wasn't just her friend, he was absolutely smitten with her. Anne remembered how Clara had kissed Walter when they were still babies- after she'd bopped him in the nose. I'm glad I kept him because- well, I'm glad I kept him anyway- but for Clara's sake now, too. They like each other so much...it would have been sad if they grew up never knowing each other.

"I'm four now, too," Walter was telling her. "Now we both four."

"I'm a grown up," Clara told him wisely. "I'm going to be five in this many months." She held up three fingers.

"One, two, three," Walter counted her fingers. He did not know what a month was, but he could count to three to see how many of them there'd be. "Then you have a birthday party."

"Yes, I'm going to have a birthday party," Clara agreed. "You have to come and we'll eat some more jellybeans."

"I'll let you win all the games," Walter told her.