The dessert plates from the birthday cake were placed off to the side as Rilla nervously pushed the box towards him. She had wrapped it with striped paper, tied a box expertly around it before hiding it away so he couldn't find it. She had spent the week crocheting little booties and bonnet in a buttery yellow. All between managing her ever-growing nausea from him, and she was pretty sure he had no idea.
"It feels rather light," Ken grinned shaking the box. "A new tie?"
"Just open it," Rilla urged him.
Ken smiled and peeled away the paper and opened the box, which was filled with tissue paper. He pulled the first thing he felt, which hung around his index finger. He stared at them for a good moment. Looking at her with his mouth hanging open. He tried to piece together words as he looked at her and then the booties, over and over again. In the end, he stood up, pulling her close to him. She wouldn't tell anyone that they both cried that night.
Tears of joy, she would always remember how quickly his hand found its way to her stomach.
"How far along?" He asked.
"Seven weeks," Rilla told him.
"Thats almost two months!" Ken sat up.
"It's calculated from my last period, not the day we conceived," Rilla explained. "but if it helps, that would make it about five weeks."
"How long have you known?" He asked her. "Your fall!"
"I suspected before going to Ingleside," Rilla told him truthfully. "I did fall in a rainbow valley but not because I was clumsy. I fainted in front of Jimmy, who ran to get my dad."
"So your father knows?" Ken murmured.
"He helped hammer out a few details. He told me to make an appointment in Kingsport." Rilla nodded. "Mother I don't think suspects anything."
"You're errand that you did on Wednesday?" Ken asked her. She had popped in at the office to say hello that day.
Rilla nodded. "I wanted to be sure before I said anything to you. Everything seems to be fine, he gave me a mid to late January due date."
"January, a winter baby," Ken smiled, "This is the best birthday gift anyone has ever given me."
"I'm sorry it took so long," Rilla said quietly.
"Never say that, what's eight months?" Ken reassured her. "For all we know, it could have been me." He reminds her. "I can't wait to tell my parents." He mused.
"Just parents though," Rilla stressed. "Until things pass a certain mark, or I begin to show."
"Of course," Ken agreed solemnly but still had a huge grin on his face.
They were still on cloud nine as they climbed into bed that night. He grinned as wiggled down on the bed kneeling with her legs between his. Fiddling with the step in she wore for a moment. He managed to undo it and push it upwards until he could see the pale skin of her stomach. "You don't know me yet, but I'm your daddy," Ken said holding her hips in his hand as he leaned in to kiss just below her navel.
"Come back here, you silly man," Rilla laughed, as he crawled over her trying to kiss her.
"Is this okay?" Ken sat back suddenly.
"Completely, just watch the bubs. They are overly sensitive" Rilla warned him, which made him cock his head to look at them.
"Watch the tits got it, wait," Ken said as he took a closer look at them. "They're bigger!" He exclaimed.
"That fact that you haven't noticed is surprising," Rilla informed him with a laughed as he wrapped her arms around his neck.
Their life was changing, early next year it would be entirely different. She knew what it took, but the whole family dynamic would change.
She had sent her last packet at the beginning of May. Now come June they had sent her standings and achieved credits. Notes and what courses they might want to look into the next semester. She could fit another semester before the baby came.
Then came the phone calls to their parents, Ken beaming as he listened to his mother. Who was telling him about Persis who has taken to motherhood like any society woman? A nanny to do all the hard work.
"Actually Mom, we called for a reason," Ken told her.
"Are you coming for a visit?" Leslie asked.
"I doubt that," Owen said beside her. "He's still in the first year of setting up shop."
"Of course," Leslie concurred as well. "Maybe Christmas though?"
"I don't think Christmas is going to work either, but if you want to come out and stay for a few weeks. It might be worth your while," Ken told them. "I believe the stork will be arriving mid to late January."
"I suppose we can come again like last year," Leslie hummed. "I don't think we have been invited anywhere. Persis says Winnipeg in winter is never where anyone wants to be."
"Leslie, did you even listen to our son?" Owen spoke up.
"Of course! Christmas and New Years with them in Kingsport." Leslie told her husband who was still laughing. "But a month-long visit? Ken, surely the stork—oh my heavens the stork!"
Ken laughed has it finally sunk in for his mother, which Rilla added into as she listened in.
"Oh my dear how are you doing well I hope? How far?" Leslie rattled off.
"Almost eight weeks, so it is still early," Rilla told her. "I am doing all right I suppose. It's no walk in the park."
"It never is, eight weeks, yes still quite early to tell beyond the family." Leslie agreed with her. "Oh a grandbaby, have you told your parents yet?"
"They weren't home when we called, so later tonight," Rilla told her.
"Oh, this is so exciting, of course, if you want us out there we will plan our holiday around that time. Can't have you skipping all over the country in those last few weeks. If you have any questions, you can always write, call whenever. I know your mother and father will be resourceful for you, but if you have any questions I am here."
"I will remember that," Rilla told her sincerely.
It was later that night when the telephone rang, Rilla looked up from her spot on the chaise when Ken went to answer it. "Give me one moment, she's in the living room," Ken said as he dragged the phone cords over to her spot.
"I heard that you called," Anne spoke into the receiver.
"I did," Rilla confirmed as she moved her legs so that Ken could sit down next to her. "Is dad around?"
"He's out at the moment," Anne told her. "But we have some news to relay Nan had her baby early yesterday morning."
"Did she?" Rilla asked rather happily. She knew Nan had been counting down the days. "What did she have?"
"A little girl, Geraldine Roseanne" Anne told her proudly. "Nan did wonderfully, not too long of labour."
"Geraldine is very pretty of a name. Along with Roseanne, very much an ode to yours and Rosemary," Rilla stated. "Though they can't call her Gerri, that would be too confusing. I wonder what her nickname will be"
"I am not entirely sure, but I am tickled pink about her name," Anne pondered for a moment. "I suppose we will find out soon enough. But I can assume you called with a purpose?"
"Yes, I did. I did call with a purpose" Rilla stated, slightly rambling as she did. She snuggled into Ken, who wrapped his arm around her. She didn't think it would be this nerve-wracking, after all, it's not like her mother would be surprised. She knew they had been trying. Maybe go the Christmas route as Ken did? "Well, umm." Rilla bit her lip, chewing on it for a moment. She was about to speak when she heard the sound of the door opening.
"Oh look your father just walked in," Anne stated into the receiver. "Darling, Rilla is on the phone!" She called out.
"I'll be right there," she heard her father replied back. She could hear her mother ask her father how his appointment went, as she waited for him to wash his hands upon arriving home.
Rilla looked up at Ken, brow furrowed. "I don't know what to say," she covered the receiver. "You made it sound so easy!" She whispered to Ken.
"Your father already knows," Ken pointed out quietly.
"That doesn't help much," Rilla stressed as she heard her mother uncover the phone.
"Hello Rilla," she heard her father speak up into the receiver.
"Hi Dad," Rilla said taking a deep breath. "I hope you had a good day." She told him.
"Well everyone is alive and well, your Mother told you the news?" Gilbert asked her.
"She did," Rilla assured him. "Happy news, actually some happy news is why I am calling," She began. "Mom, I was wondering if you still have that trunk full of baby clothing up in the attic that you were saving."
"I knew it!" Her mother exclaimed to her father. "I knew you hiding something from me Gilbert." Rilla looked up at Ken who chuckled and kissed her hair at his mother in law antics.
"Mom!" Rilla raised her voice. "Don't go blaming him, you know he can't talk about patients."
"Right, I'm sorry, oh this is lovely news." Anne gushed. "Of course I will find whatever I had stored away for you."
"Congratulations to you both, I can hear Ken next you chuckling over my wife," Gil told spoke. "Ken, be prepared for an interesting few months."
"I can only imagine, but promise to be beside her every step of the way," Ken spoke up. "We are over the moon, we want you and my parents to be the first too officially know."
"It's very sweet of you," Anne told them. "Oh more grandbabies, do we have an idea of the due date?"
"Mid-to-Late January," Rilla told her mother. "Still very early." She added on but she knew her parents wouldn't say a word.
"Of course, call if you ever need anything sweetheart. Questions, doctors know a bit, but nothing will compare to a woman's knowledge." Anne told her. A small dig at her husband career.
"Of course," Rilla agreed as she looked up at Ken and kissed the bottom of his jaw. "But we should let you go, shouldn't hold the telephone at Ingleside."
"Call if you need anything," Gilbert told them both gruffly.
"We love you both," Anne added.
"Love you as well," Rilla said for both of them. She reached down and hung up the receiver before leaning back into Ken one more.
It was like a turning of the tide. How she went from feeling somewhat ill and managing her days to unable to eat. Ken had left for work as Mrs. Clarke set upon tidying the kitchen from breakfast. It happened so gradually that she couldn't remember not feeling sick. By the second week, she sat at the table after she said goodbye to Ken. She looked at Mrs. Clarke for a moment before speaking up.
"I just want you to know, though I am sure you have picked up on it already," Rilla rambled on. "I'm expecting. If I randomly run toward the bathroom, it is not your cooking, I just seem to be sensitive to everything lately." Rilla told her.
"Don't worry Mrs. Ford, your secret is safe with me," Gloria told her with a nod of her head. "But I will keep too plainer recipes for you to see if that will help you."
Rilla smiled and looked at the clock. "I think I am going to go lie down if the telephone rings. Please just take a message."
"Of course," Mrs. Clarke nodded her head. "I do plan on washing the floors today, so it shouldn't be loud for you."
Rilla just nodded and slowly stood up and trudged her way upstairs. Still, in her nightgown and robe, she planted herself into her bed. She had never felt so tired in her life, except maybe when she had been sick. On her nightstand was every book Rilla could find about preparing for motherhood. They told her that the sickness would eventually fade away. It was only a few weeks, after all, another month or so. Then she would enter the second trimester when everything grew, changed overnight. It told her to eat small meals, protein, drink milk, rest when she felt unwell.
Ken had a constant look of worry on his face when he left for work, or in the evenings. Talking quietly to Mrs. Clarke about how Rilla faired that day. Worrying about when Mrs. Clarke had her days off. Who couldn't adjust her hours to work more until her sister found help with the children during the summer?
He never felt more frustrated with the doctor when they went to make sure Rilla was healthy. Only to have the doctor pat her hand sympathetically and said it would soon pass. It was all part of pregnancy, a woman's plight for eating the apple. It was all part of a healthy pregnancy, and she was only nearing ten weeks.
It was a particularly bad day when she heard the front door open. Had Ken come home early? Did he forget something?
Instead, she heard the footsteps, which stopped at the bathroom door.
"What are you doing here?" She looked up from her spot on the floor confused at why her mother was in her house.
"Ken called me yesterday," Anne told her as she lowered herself nearer to her daughter. "Don't give me that look, he's been worried. He says you're often sick and I remember those days."
"Often sick?" Rilla groaned hoarsely. "I'm sick twelve hours of the day. I've tried every trick in the book and I end up here."
"It's never fun, I know but it will be worth it." Anne patted her leg.
"How did you get here?" Rilla asked. "It's the morning."
"It's nearing 2 o'clock," Anne told her. "He called yesterday from the office. I caught the first train to the ferry." She repeated herself to her daughter.
"But Nan!" Rilla said as she brought herself up into a sitting position. Ultimately regretting her decision as she scrambled for the toilet. She took a small comfort that her mother held her hair back for her.
"Nan and little Geraldine are safe and sound. Rosemary has been going over and she has plenty of help." Anne told her. "You and the other hand, need me more. So why are you alone today?"
"It's Gloria's day off," Rilla shrugged taking the glass of water her mother handed her. Ken had voiced his worry leaving her home alone days previous. She had sent him on his way as she munched on a piece of dry toast. "Dad's not here is he?"
"No, he had patients he couldn't leave," Anne told her. "Not that he would be much help, he's like any other doctor in this aspect. While they try to be helpful, they never truly understand what it is like. There is not much even he can do even for his family."
"Was it ever this bad for you?"
"I had my moments," Anne said thinking back. She always would say that her labour with tougher than any pregnancy she ever had, but Rilla didn't need to hear that. "Why don't we put on some clean clothes, we can go sit out on the veranda and have some tea?"
Rilla took a moment, judging her bodily reaction to standing up before nodding. She brushed her teeth quietly and rinsed out her mouth. She held onto her mother as she slowly made it across the hall. Her mother went through her closet finding a simple house dress. Rilla quietly untied her robe and let her mother pull on the dress over her head. Slippers were put on her feet and her hair brushed and braided. Sitting for another moment before they carefully went down the stairs.
They were enjoying the sunshine when Ken came up the driveway. "Anne, I see you arrived," he kissed her cheek as a son would.
"Indeed," Anne nodded her head as Ken sat down next to his wife. Pale as she nibbled on soda crackers and ginger ale.
"How are we doing today?" He asked quietly.
"Same as usual," Rilla told him quietly. "Sick, dizzy, tired."
"The doctor says it will pass soon enough," Ken tried to encourage her. "Do you think you can manage anything tonight? I can make you some peanut butter toast again?"Rilla merely nodded. Peanut butter the few things she could stomach in small amounts. "We have some leftover chicken, I can pull together a chicken pie for us?" He looked towards his mother in law. "Gloria left some crust in the icebox for us."
"How about you sit with Rilla and I throw together dinner for us," Anne told him. "Don't look at me like that Rilla. I can make a pot pie."
"It's fine Anne, you just got here. Relax and rest." Ken told her as he stood up and caressed Rilla's slim shoulder.
Dinner was a quiet affair, Rilla munching lightly on her toast while the others at their pot pie.
"Nan and Jerry asked me to send this along," Anne told them as she passed over the birth announcement. The baby favoured Nan, but had jet black hair. Underneath someone had written Geraldine Roseanne Meredith in cursive letters.
"She looks like Nan, that is for sure," Kenneth commented. "A bit of Jerry I suppose."
"Babies change a great deal," Anne told him. "Until their hair fully grew in and their eye colours changed. Nan and Di were almost identical. Rilla on the other hand pretty much looks the same. Slightly darker hair, but she has always been a good mix of Gilbert and me." Anne smiled at daughter.
"I—," Rilla started before she stood up quickly and dashed to the nearest bathroom.
"I'll go check on her," Anne started.
"Sit, I'll go," Ken stood up. "Finish dinner, don't wait for us."
"If you are sure?" She asked him. This was the reason she was here after all.
"Eat," Ken smiled at her before leaving the kitchen to follow his wife.
"Rilla's resting upstairs," Ken told her as he found her doing the dishes when he came back.
"When you told me she was ill, I didn't expect it to be this bad," Anne told him truthfully. "How long has this been going on?"
"The past two weeks, it's only gradually gotten worse," Ken said leaning against the counter, with the dishtowel in his hand, wiped the plate dry that she passed him.
"I'm going to call Gilbert and ask him if he knows of anything that can potentially help," Anne told him.
"Of course, the phone is in the living room." He told her. "Thank you for coming."
"Any time Kenneth," Anne smiled at him. "I've been there for all of my girls during these times."
"I had Mrs. Clarke set up the spare room for you," Ken told her. "It looks over the small side garden."
"Thank you, Kenneth, you have grown into a fine man," Anne told him.
"Well, I did just turn thirty" Ken point out with a grin.
"Oh, hush don't remind me of how old I am getting," Anne tutted him as she rang out the dishrag and hung it to dry.
"You must be Mrs. Clarke," Anne said cheerfully as she sat in the kitchen as the housekeeper came through the side door. Drinking a cup of tea in the morning sunlight as there were footsteps above them.
"Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Blythe," Gloria let it roll off her tongue in her accent. "Do we know how Mrs. Ford is feeling this morning?"
"Same as usual, from what Kenneth told me," Anne told her. "Goes to bed feeling ill, wakes up feeling ill."
Mrs. Clarke nodded sympathetically as she set up to make some breakfast. "Is there anything that you wish for breakfast?"
"Anything you usually make for them is fine," Anne told her. "I was speaking to my husband who is a doctor. He mentioned that bright colourful fruit may help Rilla, do you know if the grocers have any bananas?
"The grocers near the dock generally have the freshest fruit," Mrs. Clarke told her. "I can get one of my nieces who live nearby to pick up some and run some over for us?"
"Is that possible?" Anne asked.
"My brother has a telephone in his shop, he can relay the message. They know where I work," Mrs. Clarke explained.
"Of course, anything is worth a try at this point," Anne told her. "I'll grab my purse."
"Why do you need your purse?" Ken asked coming into the kitchen with his shirt sleeves still undone, and collarless.
"Mrs. Blythe was asking about banana's, I was telling her that I can get Trudy to bring some over." Mrs. Clarke told him.
"When I was speaking to Gilbert, he mentioned that sometimes the vitamins in fruit. Especially banana's can be beneficial to help nausea," Anne explained.
"Here then," Ken said digging into his pocket and placing some coins on the counter. "That should be enough, and for her trouble. Rilla is going to stay in bed for the morning, she munching on crackers at the moment."
"Breakfast on the go?" Mrs. Clarke asked him.
"Please if you can, you don't mind if I head off early?" He turned to Anne.
"Go, we'll hold down the fort," Anne told him. "If anything changes we will call." She told him.
"The telephone number to my office is by the phone, call anytime," Ken told her. "I'll tell Margaret, that if you call to just put your through."
"How kind of you Kenneth?" Anne teased him.
"Mrs. Blythe is eggs and toast all right for breakfast?" Mrs. Clarke looked at her.
"Sounds wonderful," Anne told her, which Mrs. Clarke nodded too. "Come here Ken, I'll button your collar for you," Anne told him as he fiddled with his starched collar.
Meanwhile in Paris
"Shirley, où vas-to?" Lillian asked as he held onto her arm, Amelie in tow holding onto a camera. Which looked like the direction of the one and the only place they had already visited before? Shirley, voici Notre Dame. Pourquoi sommes nous ici?
"It's a surprise Lily," Shirley grinned as he skipped up the steps. Dressed in one of his nicer suits. Amelie had suggested wearing one of her prettier dresses for photo's of course. One that that still miraculously fit her.
He held her hand as they walked inside. A postulate smiling at them, "Le père vous attend," she told them.
"Shirley qu'est-ce qui se passe? Lillian asked him.
He said nothing as he passed her clipped newspaper, dated last May 17th, 1923 in Montreal. The headline said all that was needed to know.
Notorious Montreal Gangster, Yannick Gagnon hanged after being found guilty for killing a guard after trying to escape.
"I know what it would mean to you, to be married in a church," Shirley said quietly. "We're in this together, forever and always. Plus maybe this little one can be baptized now. I mean we won't tell Susan that, but what she doesn't know won't hurt her," Shirley cracked a small joke. Their leaving made his relationship with the woman even more strained. She wrote of course, but things would never be the same.
In the end the happy couple stood in front of the altar. Stained glass windows in the background holding hands. A long robed priest holding a bible in his hands, long robes that spoke with a stoic face. Shirley refused to tell her how he managed it, but she assumed a few white lies. Of course their marriage certificate from earlier in the year helped greatly. Along with some fairly good French on his part. It was funny how they spoke tended to speak their own mix of French and English, even while living in France.
A photograph made its way to Ingleside and Kingsport with the date written on the back of it
Except on the Ingleside one they added.
P.S expected arrival in October, possibly near Halloween.
Translations.
Shirley where are we going,
Shirley, this is Notre dame. Why are we here?
Shirley, what is going on?
Quarantine/social distancing Day- I don't know anymore. Re learned how to ride a bike, and learned how aggravating paint by number are to do. I also found out it's impossible to make a new corset without making a proper period matching Chemise.
Side note. I know its practically impossible to get married at Notre Dame, but let's just go with it! It was a moment that was too romantic to change.
Hope everyone is well! Thank you all for the kind reviews, you are all amazing. Stay safe out there!
Tina.