XVI
Disclaimer: You know the drill. L.M. Montgomery owns all characters and settings besides David. And the still-blue hall. And Gilbert's pink fence. Those are the things I own. Unfortunately, I couldn't write a very good story with *just* those, so...I have to borrow some of L.M. Montgomery's stuff.
Amid the clanging of dishes in the Green Gables kitchen that morning, a moan was heard, followed by an exasperated sigh.
"Anne? Anne, are you down here?" The clattering sound of footsteps descending the stairs gave Marilla the only reply she needed.
"Anne, I *told* you that three spoonfuls of plum preserves would give Davy a stomachache! Whatever possessed you to allow him to have so much?"
"Huh?" Anne entered the kitchen, pressing and pulling on her earlobes, red hair still dripping. "Sorry, Marilla, but I think some water got stuck in my ears when I washed my hair. What did you say again?"
Another moan from Davy that entered into the range of even her impeded hearing revealed the answer. "Oh, right, the plum jam," Anne recalled, furiously massaging her cheekbones in a futile attempt to unplug her ears. "I'm sorry, but I thought he deserved a reward."
"A reward? Whatever for?" Marilla asked, looking blankly at Anne.
"The only thing the boy does well enough to deserve a reward is make mischief," came Mrs. Lynde's emphatic voice above the clamor of the dishes.
Anne, who probably could have heard *Mrs. Lynde* talking even if she'd stuffed her ears with cotton, waited until Marilla had sent Davy off to bed, then replied, "Well, it seems that yesterday, Davy dyed Mrs. Harmon Andrews'" -she spat out the name with some distaste-"prize pig's tail blue. I'm sorry, Marilla, but I really can't take her. 'Oh, Jane's trousseau has this; Jane's new house has that! What, not married yet, Anne? It doesn't do to be too picky, you know.'"
Marilla hid a smile at Anne's particularly adept imitation.
Anne went on. "She bragged about Jane all through the wedding earlier this summer, all through the banquet yesterday, and, to top that all off, she interrupted me and Gi-" Anne stopped abruptly.
Mrs. Lynde set down the last plate she'd been wiping. "Interrupted you and…" she prompted curiously.
The color rose in Anne's cheeks. "Um, she just, uh, really annoyed me, so I wasn't exactly, you know, *disappointed* in Davy when she told me." Anne grabbed the dishes and began to put them away.
Marilla shot Anne a calculating glance. Then, seeing that Anne had just picked up an ugly old green and yellow bowl of Mrs. Lynde's that Marilla disliked especially, she asked, "So, Anne, was Gilbert Blythe at the banquet?"
Sure enough, the bowl suddenly slipped out of Anne's hands and clattered to the floor, where, much to Marilla's chagrin, it arrived unscathed.
"Oh no! I'm sorry!" Anne cried, bending down to pick up the bowl, which Mrs. Lynde snatched from her hastily. Then, taking refuge in the clogged ears though she had heard Marilla perfectly, Anne gestured toward her ears and said, "I couldn't hear you, Marilla. What'd you say?"
Marilla just shook her head and smiled. "Nothing important."
**********
Anne walked out the side door, still banging her fist against the sides of her head. She hadn't made much headway, but by the time Marilla and Mrs. Lynde had finished putting away the dishes (Mrs. Lynde hadn't allowed her to touch any others, saying she had "buttery fingers"), Anne was at least able to discern what people were saying, thought everyone's voice still seemed to possess a strange toneless quality. She hummed to herself while walking down to sit by Violet Vale, which was perhaps why she didn't hear the carriage rumble up the lane.
**********
Anne spread herself out among the violets, propping her head against the base of a birch tree. She hadn't really had time to process all the new, er, *information* through her brain since the end of the banquet. Abandoning all attempts to unplug her ears, Anne brought her fingers to her lips, still almost able to feel the warmth of Gilbert's kiss upon them. It all had happened so suddenly-one minute they had been bickering, and the next, well…
But perhaps it hadn't been so sudden, after all. What had David and Diana called their stupid (yet remarkably effective, Anne had to admit) little plan? Oh yes, "aiding *destiny*". Destiny. The word presented itself in before her mind's eye, big and imposing, complete with the capital D. "Difficulty begins with D, too," she thought with a laugh. "So does dense, and denial, disaster…"
"And desire," another little voice in the back of her mind added wickedly. She blushed inwardly and waved the thought out of her head.
A lot had happened between her and Gilbert since his illness. They had met, and then fought, then fought again; now…where were they now? Right back where they started? No, he had kissed her. That was something. Additionally, he had saved her from humiliation in front of half the town. Maybe it was her turn to make the momentous move. No, not maybe--it definitely was. Hopefully Gilbert didn't think she meant all of those awful things she'd said to him; well, she could clear that up, at least.
Head spinning, Anne stood up. "Perhaps I'll go to find Gilbert, then maybe I'll be less confused," she thought, all the events of the past two weeks reeling around in her mind and making her dizzy.
But that was not *destined* to happen.
A pair of hands suddenly covered Anne's eyes, and a toneless (to her ears, at least) male voice announced, "Guess who!"
Anne initially recoiled from the touch, but then forced herself to relax, considering her "guess" of "who" it must have been.
Eyes still shielded, Anne said rapidly, "Wait. Before you say anything, I just want to apologize. I didn't mean any of those things I said."
Slightly taken aback, the figure covering Anne's eyes started. "What?"
"Yes, I take them all back," Anne continued, feigning nonchalance. "I was worked up-a little out of my head, I guess."
"Really?" The figure's eyes lit up.
"Yes. And listen, I-I just wanted to, um, say-"
"Yes?" the figure, whose hands were still over her eyes, prompted eagerly.
"Um, I'm sorry," Anne finished lamely. Ugh, she couldn't come up with anything better than that?
"Anne, I-I wasn't quite expecting this, but of course I'm extremely pleased-you don't know how much so. I guess all that remains to be said, or, rather, asked, is a question I posed awhile ago…"
Anne gasped inwardly. She knew what was coming next-she just hadn't anticipated it quite this soon. She swallowed, attempting to dismantle the huge lump in her throat. Her ears finally popped, liquidating the water that had been blocking them.
"So, Anne, you *will* marry me this time?" the figure asked, his tone a mixture of eagerness and apprehension.
Now it was Anne who flinched. That-that wasn't Gilbert's voice! And, come to think of it, she hadn't felt that familiar prick on her neck that she always experienced when Gilbert approached. Or the delightful burning sensations on her face when he touched her.
She threw the hands off her face and whirled around. "Roy!" she exclaimed, flabbergasted.
Post-Author's Note: I know, I know...cliffhanger. And I bet you all (especially those of you who thought that Gilbert was *finally* proposing) want to come here and execute me on the spot. Sorry. The idea was just too good not to use. But when (if?--ha, ha) Gilbert does propose, I hope it will be better than that! Props go to Skyflyer and California Love, the only people (that reviewed) who correctly guessed the inhabitant of the mysterious carriage! Good job!
Disclaimer: You know the drill. L.M. Montgomery owns all characters and settings besides David. And the still-blue hall. And Gilbert's pink fence. Those are the things I own. Unfortunately, I couldn't write a very good story with *just* those, so...I have to borrow some of L.M. Montgomery's stuff.
Amid the clanging of dishes in the Green Gables kitchen that morning, a moan was heard, followed by an exasperated sigh.
"Anne? Anne, are you down here?" The clattering sound of footsteps descending the stairs gave Marilla the only reply she needed.
"Anne, I *told* you that three spoonfuls of plum preserves would give Davy a stomachache! Whatever possessed you to allow him to have so much?"
"Huh?" Anne entered the kitchen, pressing and pulling on her earlobes, red hair still dripping. "Sorry, Marilla, but I think some water got stuck in my ears when I washed my hair. What did you say again?"
Another moan from Davy that entered into the range of even her impeded hearing revealed the answer. "Oh, right, the plum jam," Anne recalled, furiously massaging her cheekbones in a futile attempt to unplug her ears. "I'm sorry, but I thought he deserved a reward."
"A reward? Whatever for?" Marilla asked, looking blankly at Anne.
"The only thing the boy does well enough to deserve a reward is make mischief," came Mrs. Lynde's emphatic voice above the clamor of the dishes.
Anne, who probably could have heard *Mrs. Lynde* talking even if she'd stuffed her ears with cotton, waited until Marilla had sent Davy off to bed, then replied, "Well, it seems that yesterday, Davy dyed Mrs. Harmon Andrews'" -she spat out the name with some distaste-"prize pig's tail blue. I'm sorry, Marilla, but I really can't take her. 'Oh, Jane's trousseau has this; Jane's new house has that! What, not married yet, Anne? It doesn't do to be too picky, you know.'"
Marilla hid a smile at Anne's particularly adept imitation.
Anne went on. "She bragged about Jane all through the wedding earlier this summer, all through the banquet yesterday, and, to top that all off, she interrupted me and Gi-" Anne stopped abruptly.
Mrs. Lynde set down the last plate she'd been wiping. "Interrupted you and…" she prompted curiously.
The color rose in Anne's cheeks. "Um, she just, uh, really annoyed me, so I wasn't exactly, you know, *disappointed* in Davy when she told me." Anne grabbed the dishes and began to put them away.
Marilla shot Anne a calculating glance. Then, seeing that Anne had just picked up an ugly old green and yellow bowl of Mrs. Lynde's that Marilla disliked especially, she asked, "So, Anne, was Gilbert Blythe at the banquet?"
Sure enough, the bowl suddenly slipped out of Anne's hands and clattered to the floor, where, much to Marilla's chagrin, it arrived unscathed.
"Oh no! I'm sorry!" Anne cried, bending down to pick up the bowl, which Mrs. Lynde snatched from her hastily. Then, taking refuge in the clogged ears though she had heard Marilla perfectly, Anne gestured toward her ears and said, "I couldn't hear you, Marilla. What'd you say?"
Marilla just shook her head and smiled. "Nothing important."
**********
Anne walked out the side door, still banging her fist against the sides of her head. She hadn't made much headway, but by the time Marilla and Mrs. Lynde had finished putting away the dishes (Mrs. Lynde hadn't allowed her to touch any others, saying she had "buttery fingers"), Anne was at least able to discern what people were saying, thought everyone's voice still seemed to possess a strange toneless quality. She hummed to herself while walking down to sit by Violet Vale, which was perhaps why she didn't hear the carriage rumble up the lane.
**********
Anne spread herself out among the violets, propping her head against the base of a birch tree. She hadn't really had time to process all the new, er, *information* through her brain since the end of the banquet. Abandoning all attempts to unplug her ears, Anne brought her fingers to her lips, still almost able to feel the warmth of Gilbert's kiss upon them. It all had happened so suddenly-one minute they had been bickering, and the next, well…
But perhaps it hadn't been so sudden, after all. What had David and Diana called their stupid (yet remarkably effective, Anne had to admit) little plan? Oh yes, "aiding *destiny*". Destiny. The word presented itself in before her mind's eye, big and imposing, complete with the capital D. "Difficulty begins with D, too," she thought with a laugh. "So does dense, and denial, disaster…"
"And desire," another little voice in the back of her mind added wickedly. She blushed inwardly and waved the thought out of her head.
A lot had happened between her and Gilbert since his illness. They had met, and then fought, then fought again; now…where were they now? Right back where they started? No, he had kissed her. That was something. Additionally, he had saved her from humiliation in front of half the town. Maybe it was her turn to make the momentous move. No, not maybe--it definitely was. Hopefully Gilbert didn't think she meant all of those awful things she'd said to him; well, she could clear that up, at least.
Head spinning, Anne stood up. "Perhaps I'll go to find Gilbert, then maybe I'll be less confused," she thought, all the events of the past two weeks reeling around in her mind and making her dizzy.
But that was not *destined* to happen.
A pair of hands suddenly covered Anne's eyes, and a toneless (to her ears, at least) male voice announced, "Guess who!"
Anne initially recoiled from the touch, but then forced herself to relax, considering her "guess" of "who" it must have been.
Eyes still shielded, Anne said rapidly, "Wait. Before you say anything, I just want to apologize. I didn't mean any of those things I said."
Slightly taken aback, the figure covering Anne's eyes started. "What?"
"Yes, I take them all back," Anne continued, feigning nonchalance. "I was worked up-a little out of my head, I guess."
"Really?" The figure's eyes lit up.
"Yes. And listen, I-I just wanted to, um, say-"
"Yes?" the figure, whose hands were still over her eyes, prompted eagerly.
"Um, I'm sorry," Anne finished lamely. Ugh, she couldn't come up with anything better than that?
"Anne, I-I wasn't quite expecting this, but of course I'm extremely pleased-you don't know how much so. I guess all that remains to be said, or, rather, asked, is a question I posed awhile ago…"
Anne gasped inwardly. She knew what was coming next-she just hadn't anticipated it quite this soon. She swallowed, attempting to dismantle the huge lump in her throat. Her ears finally popped, liquidating the water that had been blocking them.
"So, Anne, you *will* marry me this time?" the figure asked, his tone a mixture of eagerness and apprehension.
Now it was Anne who flinched. That-that wasn't Gilbert's voice! And, come to think of it, she hadn't felt that familiar prick on her neck that she always experienced when Gilbert approached. Or the delightful burning sensations on her face when he touched her.
She threw the hands off her face and whirled around. "Roy!" she exclaimed, flabbergasted.
Post-Author's Note: I know, I know...cliffhanger. And I bet you all (especially those of you who thought that Gilbert was *finally* proposing) want to come here and execute me on the spot. Sorry. The idea was just too good not to use. But when (if?--ha, ha) Gilbert does propose, I hope it will be better than that! Props go to Skyflyer and California Love, the only people (that reviewed) who correctly guessed the inhabitant of the mysterious carriage! Good job!