Soft Insides
Anne found herself seated at the Cuthbert's kitchen table enjoying the breakfast Marilla had prepared for her. It felt good to sit and rest her sore calf muscles. She had rushed through her morning chores in hopes that Marilla would allow her to go visit Diana.
It had been several weeks since the Box Social and that had been the last Anne had a chance to visit with Diana. Diana's parents were so enraged about Fred Wright they cut Diana off from Fred, school, and even Anne. Anne longed to visit her friend and figure out a way to help. Hopefully, Anne could find Diana outside doing her chores and bypass her parents.
Anne nudged her fork into the top of her fried egg, revealing the bright runny inside. She tore a piece of toast and dunked it in the yellow goop. The warm scent of coffee perking on the stove and Marilla's soft hum gave Anne a moment to savor her current situation. The Cuthbert's were really good and decent people- she was lucky to have them in her life.
"Anne-girl, would you like another egg?" questioned Marilla as her hand hovered above the cast iron skillet.
"No thank you. I have had my fill of eggs of late," teased Anne. The recent warm snap had the hens laying dozens of eggs again, creating a surplus for eating and selling when they went to town.
"Me too," said Marilla as she wiped off the counter with an old dishtowel embroidered with the day of the week.
"Marilla? I've finished my chores already. Could I please walk over to Diana's?"
"Anne, I don't know if Mr. Barry would be approving. There's been talk about Diana being in trouble," warned Marilla.
"I know. Diana hasn't been at school or church. She wasn't even in town at the movie last Saturday. I'm really worried."
"Like a good friend should be," chimed in Marilla, "Why would Mr. Barry be so cruel to Diana? He's usually really lax in the discipline department."
"I think it might have to do with Fred Wright from South of town," muttered Anne as she swallowed the last bit of milk in her glass.
"Yea, I'd see why he was keeping her in his line of sight at all times. My Dad always said, 'You can't trust a Catholic with your daughter'," lectured the old lady as set some eggs to boil.
"Why is it so bad that Fred and Diana want to be together?"
"Ahhh, Anne... It's wrong... well... because... Catholics pray to saints... and twist the bible into strange ideas... and... and," stammered Marilla.
"I don't understand. The Catholics I know are decent people and they still believe in the same God we do," reasoned Anne.
"Being a good citizen is one thing, but marrying into it is different. It just isn't done," rebutted Marilla.
"Hmph," breathed Anne as she scraped her plate in the slop bucket and plunged it in the hot sudsy dishwater Marilla had left in the basin.
Anne peered outside and noticed Patches following Matthew with the milk pail to the barn. The window steamed over as Marilla poured the boiling water off the eggs, causing the scene to fade away. Hopefully, it wasn't a promise of the return of winter's fury. Temperatures above freezing and lack of snow were considered a miracle for the last part of February.
"Anne, I'm going to need some more yeast for the sweet rolls. Maybe Mrs. Barry would loan me some until I get to town. Would you please run over and ask?" hinted Marilla.
"Oh Marilla!" Anne flew her wet hands around the woman's neck.
"Just be respectful and be back before lunch."
"I will! I promise! Thank you," squealed Anne as she fumbled with the ties to remove her apron.
Marilla turned back to the steaming eggs resting on the counter waiting to be deviled. If anyone could relate to Diana's plight, it was the old spinster alone in her kitchen with cooked eggs. The steam seemed to melt her protective shell she wore around others. Poor Diana, it is terrible when love puts you at odds with your family and the longing in your heart. Marilla slumped her aged shoulders and propped her worn hands on the counter. Tears slipped from behind her ever-mindful eyes as the repressed memories from her youth and first love resurfaced. It had been such a long time since she had even thought of him. Him.
She was like the hens. Kept in a safe pen- away from harm, roosters, or foxes. Over the years she wasted her own eggs each month, but she didn't receive any income for her sacrifice. Instead, after years of pleasing her parents she inherited a fraction of the family farm and life with her silent brother, but what did that matter to someone who had no one to share it with? Marilla choked back her rage and wiped her swollen eyes with the damp dishtowel. There is no use in drudging up the past. I've had a respectable life and now Anne needs me. Anne- she is worth it. And with that realization, Marilla smiled her thin lips and began rolling the eggs, cracking the shells, peeling away the hard exterior and revealing the soft innards.
Anne shuffled her feet through the dirt alongside the road's edge as she walked the two miles to the Barry's. Fine dust clouded around her feet and tickled her nose. Everything was dry and barren, making her long for a sign of Spring's return. She was near the edge of the Barry's land and over the next hill she would be able to see their home place. The Barry's had one of the nicest acreages around. A stunning yellow two story house was surrounded by out buildings, a red barn made of brick and wood, a large windmill, and to top it all off, a small pond fed by the creek trickling across their land.
Mr. Sadler, driving his pickup, rumbled past Anne, covering her in a choking fog of sand and gravel. When things had settled, Anne took her sweater's sleeve and rubbed the grit from her eyes and face. She had to look respectable for her visit; Anne didn't want to give Mr. Barry another reason for secluding Diana.
Anne rounded the hill and spied Mr. Barry mending fence near his alfalfa field. Anne waved to him, excited at the prospect of actually getting a chance to see her friend and have a conversation. He appeared engrossed in his task and didn't even notice her.
The warm sun radiated on Anne's face as she danced the rest of the way to the Barry's farm. The barnyard was eerily quiet for such a fine day. Harvey, the Barry's cocker spaniel, lay on his side sleeping on the front porch. He was old, blind, and hard of hearing- rendering him as a most useless guard dog. He had been with the family for nearly fourteen years, making it hard for Mr. Barry to listen to his neighbor's advice to shoot the old thing and get an animal worth its food. Mr. Barry and the family didn't have the heart to hurt Harvey when he seemed to be in no pain. So he still slept on their porch, peed on the same cotton wood tree near the front walk, and ate scraps off his old cracked china plate. Anne chuckled as his feet gyrated, obviously he was dreaming about a most exciting rabbit chase.
Anne stepped over the dozing dog and knocked on the front door. No one came, so she knocked a little louder. The curtain swayed in door's window and the knob slowly turned. The door opened slightly, allowing a crack the width of an inch to divulge who was hidden within.
"Anne?" whispered a surprised Diana.
"I had to come. I was so worried. Marilla sent me over to fetch some yeast from your mother," rushed Anne, "I just needed to make sure you were okay."
The door widened and let Anne cast her eyes upon a disheveled Diana. Her raven black hair hung limp and snarled. Her once playful blue eyes looked sunken and forlorn. Her clothes were wrinkled and sloppily buttoned as if she no longer cared about her appearance. Anne stared at the sight of a depressed Diana.
She hoped her friend hadn't sunk into despair. The image greeting her reminded her of Mrs. Hammond before she attempted suicide. A lump formed in her throat and an overwhelming sensation to cry and hug Diana overtook her sensibilities.
"Are you ill?" asked Anne.
Before Diana had time to respond, Anne had her gangly arms encircled over Diana's shoulders. Harvey perked his ears as if he was sensing the commotion, but laid his tired head back down. Diana's body shuddered and loud sobs resonated through the house. Anne held her friend and hit the door shut with the palm of her hand.
"Oh Anne! I'm such a ninny," cried Diana as she tried to wipe her soggy eyes.
"Nonsense," reassured Anne. "You need to cry and let everything out."
The two girls walked over to the brown davenport and plopped down side by side. Diana grabbed Anne's hand and looked at her stockinged feet. They sat silent hand in hand, for a minute or two.
Diana broke the moment as she cleared her throat and cackled, "I can't ever be with Fred. Father forbids it!"
"I figured that," solemnly responded Anne, "but don't worry. I've got an idea."
"Anne, you are so sweet, but there's no way my Father will ever change his mind. He's even had Reverend Hamilton over. He's made it very clear that he will not tolerate or even entertain the notion of me dating a Papist."
"You are seventeen, Diana. You don't need his or your mother's permission to get married anymore," said Anne in her most serious voice.
"Are you hinting that I... I... Fred and I...get married! Without my parents approval?" gulped Diana in shock.
"You might have to. You can't live this way- you look miserable and empty. When you are with Fred, you glow with joy and delight. If being with Fred will prevent this..." Anne motioned to her current state and thought for a moment, "I think it might be for the best."
"Anne, I couldn't. I mean, I really couldn't."
"Oh1 Bull Honkey! You can!"
"No. I mean Fred has never even brought up marriage. I need him to want me, too. He's probably relieved to be rid of me," rationalized Diana in an effort to protect her hopes from raising.
"Oh Diana!" exclaimed Anne in shock. "You wouldn't say that if you saw his face that night after your Father drug you away. He was so distraught and Gil overheard Fred's father discussing Fred's current mood."
"Fred was upset!" smiled Diana for the first time in weeks.
"I think Fred really loves you. I know you love him. AND nobody can give me a real reason why your relationship is so taboo."
"Fred loves me? That is the most uplifting thought I've had in weeks," let out Diana as her rigid posture relaxed and a hint of pink returned to her placid face.
"Diana you know Fred better than me. Why is it such a surprise?" asked a confused Anne.
"I always imagined he did love me, but I rationalized it so my heart wouldn't be broken."
"Rationalized? Diana you made my heart break when I saw you open that door today. I would say your heart was aching regardless of your walls you attempted to construct."
"Anne Shirley! How bold?" chuckled Diana.
"I know that Fred would want to see the old Diana, not the moping one I discovered today. You probably should put yourself together," hinted Anne. "You never now when someone might show up outside your window."
'Anne, I don't know. My family forbids it and Fred doesn't even have a clue to your plan," interrupted Diana.
"Don't worry about Fred. I'll skip school tomorrow and go into town. Gil said he would give me a ride if I wanted one. Hopefully, I can find Fred. You just get yourself ready, " directed Anne.
"I don't know..." hesitated Diana.
"Shhh," said Anne as she put her finger to her lips. "Things have a way of working themselves out."
"Anne?" quizzed an increasingly alarmed Diana.
"I said not to worry, AND I MEAN THAT!"
"But..."
"Diana Barry- End of discussion. I need to borrow a few tablespoons or a cake of yeast. If I could?" redirected Anne as she stood and smoothed her skirt. "Marilla would tan my hide if I was late and didn't get what she sent me for."
"Anne... just promise me that you won't tell Fred how upset I am. I don't want to be a pity case," stammered Diana as she hobbled up on her feet.
"You won't be, just promise to take care of yourself, Okay?"
"Yes, Mother Anne," joked Diana as they entered into the kitchen.
Mrs. Barry ran a tight ship; everything was tidy and had a specific spot where they belonged. Smells of oil soap and pancakes from breakfast filled the small space. The Barry's were one of the more prominent families in the area and had a lot of the newer contraptions. They even planned on installing a telephone this summer.
Diana opened a cupboard and took a blue Mason jar out. Carefully, she measured four tablespoons of the small brown beads into a teacup for Anne. "Just in case Marilla wants to make an extra batch."
"Or if I spill it on my way home," giggled Anne.
"Anne, I have been so wrapped up in myself that I failed to ask you about Roy Gardener," hinted Diana as she screwed the metal lid back on.
"Roy," mused Anne. Her eyes glazed over and a blush painted over her freckles.
"So?"
"He's so handsome. He's smart and clever. He's everything I dreamed about in the man who I would give my heart to. The only thing wrong with his is that he is near perfect," professed Anne and noticed Diana's puzzled expression. "I just don't believe someone could be so perfect."
"Oh Anne!" laughed Diana. It was becoming clear that Diana needed Anne. She was smiling and talking again. Her visit meant the world to Diana.
"He sat by me at the movie last week and I didn't even marvel over Errol Flynn in all his swashbuckling glory. Roy held my attention all night- he even held my hand. It felt so magical to have his skin against mine."
"Anne's in love, Anne's in love, L-O-V-E, Looooovvvvveeeee!" sang Diana as she leaned her back against the cupboard.
"Diana! I..." defended Anne, but was interrupted by the slamming of the screen door leading into the mudroom hidden off the right side of the kitchen.
Mrs. Barry and Minnie Mae scurried inside to the warmth radiating from the stove. Their faces were red from the cold and their hair was blown askew. They stood in the doorway for a moment as their eyes adjusted.
"I didn't realize we had company," said Mrs. Barry as she put down a jar of jelly and canned beets. "Does Father know Anne's here?"
"I saw Mr. Barry fixing fence on my way here, Mrs. Barry," interceded Anne for her nervous friend. "I am sorry for stopping by unannounced, but Marilla was making sweet rolls and needed to borrow some yeast. She will replace it when she goes to town."
"I lent her some, Mother. I figured it would be all right," added Diana.
"Very well," nodded Mrs. Barry as she set about frying some potatoes for their upcoming lunch. The sizzle and smell of the popping potatoes flooded the kitchen.
"Anne, the weather is changing quickly. I am pretty sure the temperature dropped 15 degrees in the past hour while we were visiting Rachel Lynde. She swears the terrible aches in her knee means a storm is coming and she predicts it will be a real dozy. Her knees haven't given her this much grief since the tornado in 1934," informed Mrs. Barry.
"Diana, do you think it will tornado?" asked a frightened Minnie Mae.
"No, it's still the wrong time of the year for that, but it might snow," exclaimed Diana as she bent down and tweaked the worried girl's nose.
"I better hurry home. I wouldn't want Marilla to be fretting. Thank you for the yeast, Mrs. Barry," said Anne as she walked out to the mudroom.
Diana escorted her outside. Anne winked and waved goodbye. Winds ravaged her hair and tugged at her skirts, as she left the protection of the buildings and turned onto the road. Anne wrapped her knitted sweater across her torso and began longing for her winter coat. Mrs. Lynde may be right with her prediction, but the weather couldn't dampen her mood. Her plan with Diana was beginning to hatch nicely and visions of Roy pranced about her imagination.