Remembrance & Reconciliation
My apologies for such a long long break on this story, it's been over a year! A scene in this chapter just came to me recently out of the blue. It is such a strange place we find ourselves in and I have been finding it difficult to concentrate on much but I did find writing this a lovely diversion to the real world. Who knows where I will take it next, but I'm enjoying the process regardless. We left Anne worried about what Aunt Mary Maria said about her status at Green Gables.
One cloudy day Marilla and Anne drove to town to run a few errands. They chatted about this and that on the way, Anne telling Marilla how much she was enjoying school and all the things she had been learning recently. Her infectious joy made the journey pass quite quickly and before she knew it Marilla was parking the buggy in the main street.
Marilla had a few things to pick up and she gave Anne a penny to do with as she wished. Anne's eyes lit up, a whole penny for herself. "I believe I will buy something for Diana," she declared as she hopped down.
"You are a good and kind girl, Anne," said Marilla with a smile then with a swirl of her skirts she turned away and walked off down the street. Anne looked after her in gratitude for a moment then with penny burning in her hand, she giggled a little and trotted off in the opposite direction, her day suddenly full of possibilities.
Anne always loved coming into town. Even if she had nothing to spend, she adored looking at all the things one could buy and the well-dressed people bustling by. Before when she lived with her various families, she never had time to just absorb all that was happening around her. Instead she would have a long list of chores to finish, groceries to buy, the mail to pick up and countless other tasks.
Anne found Marilla at the buggy and climbed in next to her. Marilla did not smile and take up the reins. There was a distinct frostiness to her demeanour. Anne sat next to her in some confusion for a moment and then asked, "is anything the matter?"
"I'm fine," said Marilla flatly, in a tone quite unlike the one she had used earlier. "Can you drive, Anne?"
Anne took up the reins and drove home glancing often at the older woman who would not look at her. In stark contrast to their trip that morning Marilla seemed lost in her own thoughts and only replied to Anne's questions in monosyllables. "I'll get out here," Marilla said eventually near the churchyard. "You go on."
"Woah, woah," Anne asked the horses to come to halt. "Are you sure you're all right Marilla?"
"Yes, I'll be fine. Just leave me here, I'll walk home presently."
"Where's Marilla?" John asked when Anne drove the buggy up to the barn.
"She asked me to let her off by the churchyard John. I hope I did right."
John frowned but he asked Jack to help him unload the buggy and then he climbed aboard and drove away to look for Marilla. "Don't worry about anything, you two. Just get the stuff inside if you don't mind."
Anne and Jack looked at each other momentarily before each picking up a parcel to take inside.
The Avonlea graveyard lay in a small clearing by the church. Set about with tall trees on three sides there were views through the trunks down to the fields below and way off in the distance the sea could just been seen through a gap in the hills. John always thought it would be a nice spot to spend eternity when his time came. Mossy tombstones lay higgedly piggedly in various states of decay. In the distance a bird was singing and as he expected Marilla was sitting quietly by Jamie's grave looking rather dishevelled her hair coming free from its pins. John could see that she had placed a small bouquet of hand picked flowers by the headstone. Unlike some the lettering on the tombstone was quite fresh: In Loving Memory of our Dearest Son James Blythe.
A small cream envelope lay in Marilla's lap. "Mar? You all right there, darlin?" He sat down and plucked the parchment from her hands. My dear Marilla I do hope this finds you well. It's been too long, but I thought I would put pen to paper because it's the anniversary of Jamie's death isn't it and I always think of you and your sorrow at this time.
"I'd nearly forgotten," whispered Marilla so low that John had to bend across to hear her. "I'd nearly forgotten my own boy." She stared out into the middle distance her hands neatly folded in her lap. John reached over and took one in his hand and held it easily. He could feel the dampness of the grass through his clothes. He felt sure that Marilla could too by now, but he made no move to shift her. If being by Jamie's grave was where she needed to be, then that was fine by him.
In a quiet voice John started telling Marilla a small memory he had of their dear Jamie, how he'd gone missing one afternoon and they'd eventually found him sprawled across Marilla's glory chest, wrapped in her spare corset and best shawl, fast asleep and sucking his thumb. He'd roused when they found him and smiled up at them with such affection. "Do you recall it, love?"
Marilla smiled back at him, "I do, he'd taken his diaper off and wet the lot."
John laughed softly then pulled her close. "And what did you do?"
"I gathered him up into my arms and kissed him. I still remember the sweet smell of his sleepy breath."
"And you didn't spank him when he wet everything?"
"Of course not, I never did," Marilla said in rising indignation.
"Of course you didn't, but others may have just because he created so much work. You gave our boy the best life he could have had; no one could have done more, Mar. I always admired you for it. You were so patient with him."
"I loved him so," Marilla said simply.
"We had him for such a short time, but his cheery demeanour blessed our lives in so many ways didn't it," John continued. Marilla was silent but pressed herself into John's side as tears welled and traced down her cheeks. John got to his feet and kissed the tombstone thinking how different the cold unyielding stone was compared to the warm bundle of joy that was Jamie. Then he turned to help Marilla to her feet saying, "it's getting dark, we should be getting back home."
"I suppose I had better get dinner on," Marilla sighed as John drew up outside the barn. "It'll be late tonight I hope you don't mind." Honestly, she could hardly bear it, more than anything she wanted to curl up in her bed and forget the world for a little while. But the family would be hungry, and she had a job to do. She nearly burst into tears once again when she walked across the threshold and was greeted by the aroma of dinner cooking. She stood in the middle of the kitchen in some astonishment at the sight of Jack chopping apples and Anne standing by the stove stirring, the delicious smell of caramelising onions making her mouth water.
"Ma!" Jack got to his feet and rushed to gather her into his arms. "We were worried, are you all right?" He plucked a stray twig out of her hair.
"Yes, yes darling," said Marilla somewhat startled when she realised he was taller than her. "Your father found me I'm fine. Anne," she said turning towards the stove. "I honestly can't say how delighted I am that you started dinner. I don't think, don't think I…" she gulped.
"It's my pleasure Marilla," Anne interrupted. "I heard about this dish the other day and thought it sounded scrumptious. Do you think it smells nice? I think it should be delicious." Anne was loath to leave the pan in case the meal caught and burned so she stood by the stove and turned her head to talk.
"Come now Mar, let's get you upstairs to change," John suggested. "How long, Anne?"
"Oh," said Anne as she glanced up the clock. "About half an hour or so I expect." After they walked away, she checked how much water was in the kettle and took it off the fire to pump some more water in.
Upstairs John helped Marilla out of her clothes, put her nightgown on and her dressing gown over it declaring that there wasn't any point in getting dressed again. "I'm sure the children won't mind sweetheart," he said as she undid her pins and let her hair fall down. She frowned at him but honestly he was right, she couldn't face getting dressed again. She brushed her hair briefly before tying it in a simple plait and fixed it with a piece of string. John secured the cord of her dressing gown and fetched her slippers.
Anne heard their footsteps coming down the stairs and poured some boiling water into the teapot. When Marilla sat down by the kitchen table, she set down a rosebud teacup and the teapot telling her that it just needed steeping for a moment yet. Marilla poured the tea after a minute or two and cradled the warm cup in her hands thinking how her own blessed mother treasured the tea set.
"Are you sure you're all right now Ma?" Jack asked innocently.
"Yes I'm fine Jack. It's nearly Jamie's anniversary and I had to have a little chat with him."
"I suppose that's the sort of thing you can never forget is it?" Jack said.
"No, that's right," John replied reaching over and taking Marilla's hand in his. "You never do."
"So, tell me Anne," asked Marilla to change the subject. "What did you buy Diana?"
"Well," said Anne. "I didn't want to waste my penny, so I made a careful perusal of the store. I'm sure I annoyed the store-keeper because Diana is my bosom friend of course and I wanted the present to be just right, you know," she glanced up at their friendly faces. Then proceeded to explain her reasoning behind each decision. She was just warming to her theme when Marilla couldn't stifle a yawn so slightly reluctantly she wound up her tale saying that she had found just the right shade of ribbon for Diana's hair and bought a length of it.
"You know Jack, perhaps you should write to Mary and Eliza and remind them to write Marilla about Jamie," Anne suggested the next day.
"Why don't you do it, Anne?" Jack replied.
"They won't listen to me. You're kin they'll listen to you."
"You think it's that bad? I mean you've been here long enough."
"It's best coming from you Jack, truly. You're a Blythe."
"Well you are too," but Jack knew what she was talking about. Although he too had never met his older brother, he felt sure his sisters would take the suggestion from him better than from Anne.
After a trip to town a few days later John handed a letter over to Marilla.
I feel so awful Ma that I almost forgot a special anniversary. I've made a note in the calendar for next year, so I don't forget again. Eliza wrote Wasn't our Jamie a special little man. I'll never forget lying in my bed reading him stories. I don't even know how much he understood but if he caught me alone, he'd drag a book out and hand it over to me then settle down and make me read to him. He had an uncanny knack of knowing if I was feeling a bit sad and he'd throw his arms around me and smother me in wet sloppy kisses, do you remember those Ma? He had the softest lips.
The other day in town I saw a wee boy who reminded me of him. I smiled at the flustered mother and told her I knew a little of what she was going through. We had a brief chat and she thanked me for my consideration. The child hugged my knee momentarily but was constantly trying to get away and she had another baby in a perambulator. As she had her hands full, we did not converse for long, but it took me back to how it was for you in those days Ma. I don't think I ever truly appreciated how difficult it was. All I thought was how it impeded me. What a selfish little thing I was, I apologise for it now.
I know I thought at the time that perhaps your life, and well to be honest mine too, would be made easier if you had put Jamie away; but I see that would have been a dreadful thing and it makes me think of how you have adopted young Anne. You never were the sort to ignore a problem and by taking in Anne you have given her a chance.
It is strange how one small interaction can change one's perspective isn't it. All this to say that I apologise for being jealous of Anne's inclusion in our family. You show us up every day, Ma. Your warm-hearted ways are such a testament. Now that I am a mother myself, I strive to be as wonderful a mother to my baby as you were to all of us.
Marilla handed the letter over to John when he came in for his tea. "Well it's about time," he said after he had read it through.
Before dinner Marilla called Anne down to the parlour. Anne looked rather frightened as she approached. "Anne you look like a startled rabbit, it's nothing terrible I assure you. Look I received a letter from Eliza, and she apologises for her behaviour. I thought you'd like to know."
"Oh," Anne relaxed in relief. She had been worried when Marilla called her down, sometimes Marilla had a certain imperiousness to her voice when she wanted to say something important which reminded Anne of Mrs Hammond's tone just before a walloping.
"I'm worried about Anne," Marilla said that night when they lay in bed together.
"Mm?" muttered John, he was half asleep already.
"When I called her down to talk about Eliza's letter she looked petrified, I can't think why? I've never given her any reason to fear me."
John struggled to raise himself from slumber then remarked, "maybe it's her uncertain status that's the issue?"
"Whatever do you mean by uncertain?" Marilla replied, mystified.
"Who is she to us? Is she our daughter or just someone we're minding for a few years?"
"You think we should formally adopt her?"
"I think so, might reassure her, to let her know she's really a Blythe."
"Hmm," Marilla snuggled down next to John relishing the heat that came off him. "Perhaps you're right, might make her more settled, happier."
