Hello everyone!

We're here again for our weekly installment of our favorite characters dealing with 2020. As a good news for you, we're going to publish more often. We know many of you are in a lockdown of some sort, and would like to put our little something to make it more amenable, within what's possible.

Playlist for today (we know some of you like them!):

Hit and run (acoustic version) - Helen
Deseo - Jorge Drexler
Shallows-Daughter
On fleek - Lil Skate
Coffee at home - Softy
If Only - Raveena
Poison in your mind - Powderfinger
This Ain't the way - Jeremy Passion feat Tori Kelly
Hit Em with the Haha - Funkmammoth

As always, we thank you for all your excitement and comments. Every one of them makes our day!

Tiffi37: Fred is the best! We hope you continue to like him and laugh along his comments :)

Next morning, Anne woke up disoriented. Had that been a dream? Or Gilbert had entered the room and touched her hair? Was she dreaming again of him talking softly to her? God, she was done with that. She thought by now she was over it. Ugh. At least it hadn't been a new nightmare.

She had gone to sleep with her scarf wrapping his pillow, trying to avoid Gilbert's smell, to no avail. She woke up with the scarf on the ground, and hugging a soft pillow, nose buried all the way, frankly unsettling dreams of him. The most wonderful memories of her teenage years at the… what?

She sat up confused and looked around. Her carry-on opened, her kindle in a foreign nightstand on top of Emerging Applications of Molecular Imaging to Oncology (god, that looked boring). She stood up, feeling like an intruder in Gilbert's room. She knew she would have never allowed him to get even close to her room. Too personal. Too transparent. Way too intimate. And yet there she was, in his territory he had willingly opened to her.

She walked around and went to his dresser over the window. It was barely light outside, dark clouds announcing yet another rainy day. He had several framed pictures. One with Bash, Mary and some little girl. Were they parents now? Then some with their classmates in outings she hadn't attended (she always checked if he was going before confirming) and others with people she had no idea who they were (university friends? colleagues? they all wore those horrible medical scrubs).

And then.

One of the pictures they had taken before graduation. Before everything went to hell and resulted in them not speaking to each other. Why would he still have that, framed, next to what were obviously good memories? It didn't make sense. She grabbed the frame, remembering that day. They were fooling around with Cole, Diana and Ruby. Not having much to do at school those days after the exams, they played during recess with a digital camera Diana had gotten for her birthday. Anne had made flower crowns with the wildflowers that grew that time of the year around the soccer field and in this picture Gilbert appeared hugging her from behind, proudly sporting a very nicely done crown. His smile was still as contagious as it was back then. She actually looked happy.

She left the picture in its place and sighed. There were so many things that were left unsaid. She didn't want to think beyond that, not to have any false hope. She grabbed her hoodie again and put it over her t-shirt. She opened the door and peered out, looking down the corridor to what she could see of the living room. The sofa was… a sofa, which meant he was probably up. And a delicious coffee and toasted bread smell made its way towards her. She couldn't help but smile. She went to the kitchen and stood at the door, looking as Gilbert buttered a piece of toast. He looked up almost immediately and was relieved to see she hadn't forgotten the mask.

"Morning, Anne. Did you sleep well?" he asked, tentatively. He did hope she wasn't awake the night before when he had gone to check on her. She nodded. "There's coffee done. Milk in the fridge. Want some toast?" she walked over to get the milk while Gilbert put out a mug for her. She tried to remember the cabinet he opened, for next time. Last night she hadn't really paid any attention.

"Thanks, yes." They sat in the dining room again, again as far apart as they could, and finally took off their masks and ate. Gilbert had some latin music on, on a low volume, and it was the only thing that prevented an absolute silence. He hummed softly along Deseo , by Jorge Drexler, as he went through his motions. She felt bad about her outburst the night before, but didn't know how to breach the subject. She did have to apologize, Cole was right. She looked at her now cold coffee, bracing herself. "I'm sorry about last night," she finally said, not daring to look at him.

"Don't worry. I understand. This... it's… not something either of us expected," he said gently after a moment, surprised by the gesture. She nodded. "Look, I'm sorry as well. I'm just… on my nerves with this whole situation and maybe I'm overly jumpy," he admitted. She looked at him, questioning. "It's… as I told you yesterday, it's bad. It's risky. It's… apparently more contagious than what we thought and spreading so fast. We don't even understand it yet and there's nothing that works to cure it. I may be biased because my patients are immunosuppressed almost by definition, but I just don't want you to get sick." She nodded. She had to acknowledge; he had the upper hand here. She knew what little she read of the news (and she never read much). He apparently worked in a freaking hospital. Successful Gilbert Blythe. Which is why she was reluctantly following his rules.

"I understand. I'll be more careful."

"I'd rather you didn't get much out of the house, to be honest. At least until I can get hold of some more face coverings for you," he said, looking at her with an expression that looked almost apologetic. She sighed. "I know they are saying they're only for frontline workers and that there's no evidence on how much they protect. But the fact with most respiratory diseases is that they do, at least to some degree. So it's better to give them the benefit of doubt."

"Ok, so I won't go out much without a mask. Just for walks away from people. Would that be alright?" He nodded. He wouldn't oppose walks.

"There's a trail not too far from here. I'm sure you can find it on google maps," he suggested, knowing her love of nature. "Just keep a hockey stick length away from other people."

"Great. That'd be good. How long do I have to wear one here?"

"Two weeks. Just so we both know you don't have anything. Have you taken your temperature?"

"36.6º," she said. She had actually made a point on remembering the number because she knew he would ask. He nodded. "Have you seen any news? I haven't checked since yesterday when I spoke with Diana and she called you…"

"Europe is getting worse. Especially Italy and Spain. I don't even know if that can be considered something newsworthy anymore... New York closed restaurants, schools and I don't know what else. Ontario's Premier declared a state of emergency yesterday. There's been shortages of some foods in some areas and, ridiculously, of toilet paper. The people in the States seem to believe they're living an apocalypse movie and are behaving accordingly. PEI announced its closing of all of the island's points of entry until further notice. They have managed to avoid most cases and, understandably, want to continue that way before they have to consider shutting down schools. It's bad, Anne."

"Shit. There goes my plan of being in PEI before the end of the month."

"I'm sorry. I understand this is… not the place you would have chosen to spend the next few weeks. But please, make yourself at home. What I said yesterday holds true: I'm glad I can give you this space and there is no rush for you to go, especially with the current state of things. I'm not around for most of the day because I have to go to the hospital, so feel free to do as you wish. We just wear the mask when around each other. Just please, stay safe. Stay here."

"Thanks, Gil," she said without thinking, and then bit her lips as she realized the nickname. Gilbert stayed silent; tension, longing and unease between them. He finally got up because he couldn't stand it anymore, taking the dishes and empty mugs and loading them on the dishwasher.

"Anyway. I should get going. I just wanted to ask you, before I make any mess. Are you telling people about this?"

"Only Diana and Cole. I'd rather…"

"Keep it quiet?" he asked. He actually didn't want to tell anyone. Because in the case this… experiment, for lack of better words, didn't work out, then he wouldn't have any explaining to do. And he was pretty sure it would not work, sad as it made him. If she was stubborn enough to hold a grudge for a decade, she wasn't about to let it go in a month.

"Yes. Unless…?"

"Quiet is good, Anne. I was thinking along the same line," he confirmed and she nodded, relieved. She didn't want anyone to know about how she, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert, jobless public school teacher and failure by all means, had ended up living with successful doctor Gilbert Blythe. He stood up, mask on again. "I'm going to buy some groceries, there's not much for you around the house, and then I go to the hospital."

"Should I go with you?" she didn't actually want to spend time with him, but then again, she wanted to have something to eat and for some reason didn't trust him with that. He looked at her, midway to the door.

"Don't worry. Text me anything you want, I'll do my best. I'm actually hoping that what a nurse told me is true and I can skip the line in the supermarket with my hospital ID, so it's better I go alone. Nothing has changed much on your diet?" he asked from the door as he put on his shoes and coat.

"No, still the same. I just try to buy organic when I can." He nodded and then he was gone.

And she was now alone. She stayed put for a moment, feeling again like an intruder, but finally gave up. If she was going to spend a couple of weeks there, she might as well get acquainted with her surroundings. She walked around the living room, stopping to see the library. Mostly full of medical textbooks, as she expected, but many as well on different science topics. On the low corner, their yearbook. She ignored it. More things she didn't feel like reviving.

She went to the kitchen and opened the fridge. There wasn't much, honestly. A couple of milk bags, some eggs, a very old wrinkly carrot. Take-away boxes, ham and cheese. Some sausage. Opening the freezer, frozen pizzas and microwave dinners. The pantry wasn't much better, with canned ravioli and beans.

Going back to the room, she looked around in her carry-on. She had expected to arrive today at PEI, and had only packed three changes of clothes, because her boxes were meant to arrive at Diana's house around the same time she did. She sighed. She had one clean t-shirt and that was it. Her phone buzzed.

**Gil (9:34): So? Anything from the supermarket?

**Anne S-C (9:35): Some tofu and tempeh? Maybe beans and lentils? Not the canned ones, yuck. And real veggies, please. You only have plastic food here. You're a doctor and have sausages?

**Gil (9:35): I don't have time nor skills to cook.

**Anne S-C (9:36): I do. Buy real stuff, I'll do the cooking. Anything you see minus dead animals.

He didn't answer. But she thought it was something she could do. Cook something. He obviously had a terrible diet, if his fridge was anything to go by. She enjoyed cooking. Seemed like a fair trade for him letting her sleep here. And somehow it was easier to text him than to talk to him.

**Anne S-C (9:40): Flour and yeast! Your bread is horrid Tastes like plastic. Marilla would be scandalized.

The next few days they found a way to live with each other. Mostly not speaking, Anne holed up in his room reading in her kindle as soon as she knew his shift would end. Leaving lovely home cooked meals for him in the microwave for when he got home from the hospital but avoiding eating with him.

When the restaurants closed and it was evident everyone would have to bring whatever food they ate, he had bought some ready-made stuff. Anne had sent him a text stating everything that was wrong with the things he bought and started leaving him food prepared in containers for each day, complete with snacks. And dessert, even. Gilbert didn't know what to think about the lunches she packed for him. He was immensely grateful, of course, and everything was just yummy, but he didn't know how to explain the change to his colleagues, more used to him bringing take-away or some sort of frozen thing. Fred was actually having a field day. Even the nurses noticed the difference and he tried to be vague when they asked.

**Ruby Avongang (13:23): Anne! Did you find a place to stay? I'm still asking but apparently we are all islanders …

**Anne S-C Avongang (13:34): You're a darling, Rubs. We actually found an old acquaintance and it's kind of working.

**Cole Avongang (13:35): Kind of working? 😍 Give all the details!

**Anne S-C (13:36): As in, we're both alive, Cole. 😑 I don't speak to him. He doesn't speak to me. Don't tease on that group or I will find a way to torture you from here. I have Roy's number.

**Josie Avongang (13:40): Do we know them?

**Anne S-C Avongang (13:42): Cole, they're acquaintances. Try living with someone you didn't know in person. Josie No, I don't think so. Marilla's friend's son, I think. Weird thing is I still have their number.

**Tillie Avongang (13:43): Send us pictures!

**Anne S-C Avongang (13:44): Yeah, sure.

Only of course she didn't and silenced the chat for some hours.

"So tell me, Blythe, how is this new life with mythical Anne? Will I ever get to meet her?" Fred asked him when not even a week had gone by since Anne's arrival. Gilbert's ears turned very red and his hand went straight to the nape of his neck as he remembered the very uncomfortable experience of the morning. "Blythe! What's going on?" Fred asked him, trying to contain his laughter, "Why, if you look like a teen!"

"I don't want to talk about it. It's too appalling," he answered. Because if he told Fred, then he would never live it down. They were, as usual, spending what little free time they had in the Timmies next to the hospital.

"Now you have to tell. That's not a way to keep shut, that's just your subconscious telling me directly you want to get it out. So out with it, it can't be that bad."

"Does… Ella washes her underthings in the bathroom?" he asked Fred, a cautious voice. It was his first time in his life sharing the bathroom with a woman and it was getting weird.

"Well… why would… yes, but why does… Oh no, seriously?!" Fred connected the dots as he spoke and laughed even more than before. "So you're drowning in her things?!"

"No! Just today! It was this little… Anyway, other than that, everything is going as tense as you could imagine, and this experience only added to it. I don't even know who was more uncomfortable. Talk to me about Bear?" Gilbert tried changing the subject again, mortified.

"I'm not telling you anything about my dog until you tell me the whole story. Spill. Now I just want to know out of pure evil curiosity because I hadn't seen you like this in the ten years I've known you," Fred was looking at him, a mix of happiness and tease.

"Are you serious?" Gilbert exclaimed, stunned.

"Yes! For goodness sake, Blythe, yes! I want to know everything! I want to enjoy seeing you up in a knot over the woman who is finally back in your life! Tell on!"

"Geez, calm down. It's not like it is the first time…"

"It is. And you know it. The ones from university were just a mere pastime and replacement for you and none of them did the cut," Fred insisted. "Spill," he added, dragging on the word.

"Oh well, if you must. But you're as gossipy as a thirteen-year-old."

"I've always been. You know it. What's more, you love it."

"Well then. I don't love it. But here you have your story. Don't go around repeating it, ok?" he looked at Fred, trying to convey some seriousness as to how mortified he was by all the events, but Fred's cheeky grin didn't budge.

"As if I would ever with anything you tell me," Fred rolled his eyes.

"So. I finished showering. I was dressed, mind you, but opened the bathroom door just to let the steam out, you know how the ventilation sucks at my place?" Fred nodded, "So I dried my hair, door open, waiting for the mirror to defog because I had to shave."

"Which you didn't."

"Which I didn't, yes. And then I went to grab my dirty laundry to put it on the dumpster… And this tiny, lacy black thing fell to the floor. So I picked it up," his ears were red again. Fred gasped. Gilbert's hand went to his nape and Fred slapped it.

"You didn't!"

"I did! I didn't know what it was!" Gilbert excused himself, blushing again as he had done in the morning. "Just then, Anne appears asking about… I don't even remember, some kitchen thing, and stands on the door, as red as I have to be right now," because he felt his face blush and feel hot. His neck was hot as well. He scratched it. Fred slapped his hand again. "And she's just Give me that! and takes the… thingy and locks herself up. I left the place as soon as I could," he finished, covering his face with both hands but by then Fred was laughing so hard he was not paying attention anymore.

Fred looked at him when he was finally calming, and just started again. Gilbert drank his coffee, ignoring him. He still felt so uncomfortable about that morning it didn't make sense. It was underwear. It was obvious she was bound to wear something. Normal! Nothing to overthink. But god, how would she look clad in only that?! He felt his blush coming back and with it, tears accompanied Fred's laughs.

"I'm so sorry, Blythe. I just…" he laughed again. "My tummy hurts and it's your fault!"

"It's not, it's your own for laughing at my misery! She wasn't talking to me before, she won't ever, not after this. Gosh, how did I mess up like that? Anything more I should be aware of? You've been living with Ella forever," he said, when Fred finally was somewhat calm.

"Ella and I are different from you and Anne. I don't mind finding her stuff around, I don't even notice it. But god, Blythe, you made my day. You are practically thirty on the outside, but inside, you're just fifteen," he said, finally composing himself.

"I might as well be. This is ridiculous. Not even a week into this arrangement and I am a mess," Gilbert acquiesced, rubbing his eyes, still mortified. Fred gave him a pat on the back.

"You'll get there, Blythe. If anything, enjoy that she's so close. Think of a way to get her out of her room. Wearing only…"

"Wright! Time to stop, now!" Gilbert interrupted him as he went into another fit of laughter. "As much as I am glad to provide your entertainment, can we change the subject? Tell me about Bear, now. Please? You had your story and all?"

They found a routine of silent morning coffee as the world seemed to fall apart around them and the restrictions got stricter with each passing day. Eventually, they stopped using the mask around the house, when it was evident that Anne didn't have the virus. Not long after she arrived, a strict lockdown was imposed and it was no longer a possibility to go on walks, that had been the only thing keeping her sane. Even Gilbert hadn't been able to oppose them, as long as she didn't mingle or went into stores.

Diana wrote to her a couple of times, but Anne decided to just ignore her for the moment. She was still mad about the whole set-up. But she needed something to do with her time, and Cole was right: she could pick up her old projects and write. She decided to write to Kak'wet, see if she still wanted to pursue the idea they had had some years ago.

From: anne_shirleycuthbert

To: kakwet1990

Subject: Life is hard. And an idea.

My dearest kindred spirit!

Life has been so incredibly unexpected these past few weeks. I wrote you desperately needing a place to stay and guess where I ended in the end? At Gilbert Blythe's house! You might not remember him, but remember the friend I had in highschool, whom I loved desperately but… Anyway, I'm pretty sure you know who he is. So I'm somehow his roommate, only I'm locked here and he gets to go out (to work, but still).

I have way too much time on my hands right now and thought about the project we talked about so many years ago. Do you remember? Maybe it could be time to start it? I mean, I understand if you are too busy, my dear friend, but I could start with the writing and then you could give me all the notes and corrections from you and your elders. With all due attributions, of course.

Do you still have contacts in the organizations that care for the kids in the shelter system? I was thinking it could be an added benefit from the storybook if all the proceeds could go to a good cause. We both work for a living (well, I intend to do so again) and I am into this project more for the love of it than for any gain.

Let me know what you think!

Love always,

Melkita'ulamun

**Diana (22:39): Anne keeps ignoring me. I'm sure she's mad. Please tell me it's working out? I'll feel terrible if not 😢

Gilbert watched the message again. The night before he hadn't known what to answer to Diana. How was this arrangement supposed to work out? He sipped some of his coffee, watching her cautiously. She was engrossed on her phone as well. Was she really ignoring her best friend?

**Gilbert Blythe (07:42): We drink coffee in silence in the morning. That is the extent of our interaction. So decide for yourself.

He was so not telling her about the underwear incident.

**Diana (07:43): Seriously, get your act together?

**Gilbert Blythe (07:44): Tell her that. I'm not the one locked down most of the time.

**Gilbert Blythe (07:44): It's just hard, Di. I don't know where you got the idea it would be easy. It's not.

**Diana (07:45): Let me know if I can help?

**Gilbert Blythe (07:45): Please don't? I'm already with enough in my hands to deal with anything else. Call you later? :*

"So… have you seen the news?" Gilbert asked tentatively, not knowing well how to reach the subject.

"I honestly just look for anything related to PEI," she commented, her eyes still on her phone, her coffee going cold. They were having breakfast with some of the homemade bread she had done with the last of the yeast Gilbert had managed to get. She had a sourdough starter on the counter, crossing her fingers that it would work. Marilla had taught her years ago, but she hadn't given the lessons a second thought at the moment.

"The news in Hamilton, Anne. Where you are staying now?" he insisted. She looked at him blankly. "They're imposing a lockdown because it seems on the verge of getting out of control."

"What do you mean, imposing a lockdown? How exactly would you call this?" she asked, annoyed.

"Simple and sensible social distancing? I mean like strict lockdown, Anne. The kind where you get a fine if they catch you outside?" she looked at him, blinking. He could not be serious because she would positively go mental. "And believe me I know better than to make a joke about this subject."

"You can't be serious. They can't do this, can they?" her eyes were wide as plates, some paleness other than the usual milky tone of her skin. She had a million thoughts cursing through her mind, trying to process the information and completely unable to do so.

"Well, it's already done. It starts tonight at midnight. You can't get out unless it's for groceries…"

"Which you get…" because so far, she only ever went to that wonderful trail. And that was supposed to stop?!

"Only because I do have a license, a car and they let me go inside quickly. You know that already. Anyway. Groceries and first need stuff. Medical emergencies. If you work in an essential business, for which they have a list, banking… and that's pretty much it. Look for an article, they're all over the place. You don't even have to believe me."

"It's just so unfair…" she mumbled, more to herself than to Gilbert, trying to think how she was going to exist in the small space of his apartment.

"Unfair? Anne, what's unfair is that people are being irresponsible and then we have to look for a way to take care of everyone at the hospital. My patients are being denied surgeries they do need for a chance to get better because the policy now is to only make urgent surgeries, not anything that can be postponed. And cancer seems to be in the "to be postponed" category for the people who make the policies. So don't talk about how unfair it is for you to not be able to go on a walk. There are worse things than that. You have a roof, you have food, you have some sense of stability because as I've told you before you can stay here indefinitely if you so wish to. So please, don't talk about unfairness" he ranted. Because her comment almost makes him lose his temper. "You get to stay home and be safe. Which actually makes me happy. But please, don't talk about fairness in this."

**Gilbert Blythe (08:02): Forget it, just got worse. I can't believe she keeps behaving like a child sometimes, after all these years.

**Diana (08:03): What?

**Gilbert Blythe (08:03): Nothing. I just needed to vent.

Anne didn't answer anything, at a loss of what to say, only watched him type frustratedly on his phone. She had not expected that. Being scolded by Gilbert Blythe made her feel tiny because she knew he was right most of the time. Because if not, he wouldn't have said anything. She didn't look for any article at that moment, because she thought it would be rude and she felt tiny and ashamed. And he was already in a bad mood after her comment. But she did as soon as he was out the door (no more words, not even a goodbye) and then she was outside not five minutes later to spend as much as she could in the fresh air before she was banned to do so.

That night she prepared dinner after Gilbert arrived. Only because she had come so late, she had had a shower and then he had been home before she had any chance. He didn't speak much, looking worried and tired and trying to get out of her way. When he offered to help she snapped. He had just had a terrible day at the hospital, the first of his patients diagnosed with covid. They were trying to trace the contacts and then to test the rest of the floor. He had received a visit last week, when they were still allowed, and they were thinking that was the source. However, he was just worried about anyone else that had been in contact. They couldn't have an outbreak in the hospital. Even less on the oncology floor.

"I'm sorry about this morning. It was… insensitive from me," she commented when she went to the living room where he was trying, quite unsuccessfully, to read some light book. "Dinner is ready, for whenever you're ready."

"Anne. You don't have to cook for me. Honestly," he said, looking up.

"It's the least I can do. And you need to eat some real food," she said.

"Ok. Thank you, really. And don't worry about before. I'm… just stressed. It's no excuse, but it is my only explanation. It must be hard to have to stay in a place that's not even your own." Anne saw his eyebrows knit together with what she knew was frustration and worry. She hated being able to read him so well after so much time.

They ate in silence after that and then watched the news. Immediately after, Anne washed what was left from dinner and excused herself. She still didn't want to spend time with him. Gilbert watched her go, thinking of how he could do to open up a bit more. He had gotten glimpses at her in the past few weeks, and even when her essence was there, he could see how sad and conflicted she was. About what? He could only guess.

"Ok…" she answered, not really convinced. She remembered something suddenly. "I really can't go out?"

"Well, in theory you can go to the grocery store and things like that, but they're really not within walking distance. Not to the trail, I'm sorry."

"I wasn't thinking about the trail," she answered, a slight blush. Gilbert frowned.

"Then? Is there anything you need?" now she was really blushing. "Anne, it doesn't really matter, if I can get it for you then I can go, it's not a problem."

"Tampons? Please? Regular?" she asked, looking at the floor. Well, that couldn't be so hard. It was normal she would need something like that at some point. He relaxed. Tampons were easy.

**Carrots (16:34): Please remember the tampons? Regular. Please.

That was the text he received when he was on the way to check out. And he had actually forgotten. So he turned back and was now facing more choices of feminine products that he thought could exist. Regular? What brand? Scented? How could a tampon be scented, that sounded so counterintuitive… And what were those plastic thingies? He tried calling her but she didn't answer, probably forgetting her phone on the other side of the house as she always did. Well, his logic told him she would prefer organic. He knew she always asked for the groceries to be organic if that was available. Now, for the brand and the thingie…

"Do you need a hand, dear?" a middle aged woman, clad in a lovely fabric facemask, asked him. He had to get a couple for Anne and him. Reusable ones. His hand shot to his nape and he sighed.

"Any brand you recommend? I'm a bit lost," he confessed.

"Well, what did she ask for?"

"Regular? And I'm guessing organic because she always prefers things that way?"

"Oh well. I always buy these ones. Do you know if she prefers an applicator or not?"

"I honestly have no idea," he said, flushing. "I didn't even know those things existed."

"Well, take them with. She can always not use it and then you'll know next time. It's very nice of you to get them for her," she commented, passing him a box and putting one of the same kind in her cart, and then regaining the distance that was previously between them.

"Well, she's not going out, so… Thank you for your help, really. If it's not too intrusive… May I ask where you bought your facemask? I'm on the hunt for a couple," he said. He might as well take advantage of the situation. The woman told him about a small store in Etsy and he wrote down the name to look for it later.

**Gilbert Blythe (16:45): Got them. Next time, details, Anne. Details.

Gilbert texted her as he went back to the bakery section. She had been crabbier than usual the last few days and now he understood the reason. If she was anything as before, something nice and sweet would brighten her night. He picked the last slice of vegan chocolate cake and then went to pay for everything, hoping the list was complete and he wasn't forgetting anything important.

So there you have :) After a longish introduction, now we can say they are officially under he same roof, with all the... awkward situations that may arise. Any thoughts?

Just a note: many, many things on this story are accurate. There are couple that are decidedly not: a strict lockdown like the one described here is an example, as well as the way hospitals work. We did take some liberties to suit our story. The lockdown will eventually match the reality as it has been in Hamilton, where the story is located, but this strict thing never happened here (it did in some other countries).

Things that are accurate: celsius, metric system except for some things (like apartment areas), Tim Hortons, the hockey stick length for social distancing, how long it would take Gilbert to go pick Anne up in Toronto, how face coverings were initially recommended (the story is still in March)... and more things that will eventually come out. Oh, and the bubble in the Atlantic Provinces is real, as well.

Any huge things that divert from reality we will point out. For now: hospital works (we have no idea) and strict lockdown in Hamilton.

We'll see you next Wednesday!