[Dear readers, Thank you so much for your kind messages of support. Since I last wrote to you, my husband has faced four rounds of aggressive chemotherapy and major surgery. He's home now recovering and, all things considered, it's going well I guess. So far as this story is concerned, I have so much more to tell you so please stick with me even when there are long gaps between chapter publications. Rest assured, it will be worth the wait! xo Kate]
With the Ruby drama behind her for the time being and very few social invitations as a result of said drama, Anne was free to bask in her time with Matthew and Marilla and lean into her relationship with Gilbert for the rest of the holiday. The couple spent Christmas Eve with Gilbert's family, singing holiday carols at the top of their lungs and dancing (badly) for Delphine's amusement. The highlight of the evening was Anne's impassioned, albeit painful, rendition of "In Excelsis Deo" on the washboard. They spent Christmas morning apart at their respective homesteads, and then that evening the entire Blythe-Lacroix crew made their way to the Cuthbert farm for Christmas dinner with all the trimmings. It was before dinner that Anne and Gilbert stole away for a private moment to exchange gifts as they had several years earlier.
"Merry Christmas Anne," said Gilbert reaching into his large satchel to retrieve Anne's gift.
"Stop right there!" stated Anne abruptly. "I am not getting caught in this trap again. When we were last together on Christmas, I had not been informed that were exchanging gifts and was caught entirely unawares. Not this time, Mr. Blythe, not this time. It is I who will surprise you! Here. Open it!" Anne handed Gilbert what seemed to be a small stack of newspapers tied up with string and adorned with little branches of holly and ivy.
Gilbert, looking confused, untied the knot and opened the first paper on the top of the pile. Curiously, it appeared to be The Avonlea Chronicle, the local weekly he and Anne had edited together during their school days.
"The 'ol Chronicle? The date on this is, what, December 1899? I'm confused, Anne. This paper's only a few days old?"
"Flip to page 6." Gilbert did as he was told and was somewhat taken aback to discover the obituaries section.
"Dear Lord, who died?" he asked with trepidation and sarcasm in his voice.
"Do you remember when Mary … passed away … and we decided to publish a tribute in the Chronicle for Delphine to have and to hold always and forever?"
Gilbert nodded.
"You knew your father very well, Gilbert, so of course you don't need an obituary to remember him. But, your mother, you never speak of her and you seemed so moved when I told you about the Book of Flowers. I wanted something like that for you, a keepsake of sorts, so I used my blossoming journalism skills to unearth a little of your mother's story. The town historical record and some amateaur sleuthing led me to some neighbours and acquaintances with whom I exchanged letters and, in summary, I wrote this piece for the Chronicle. I hope you like it."
Gilbert looked down at the page. There is was in black and white: "The life and Times of Mrs. Elizabeth Blythe by Anne Shirley-Cuthbert."
"I don't know what to say."
"Don't say anything, and don't read it now. Save it for the right time, when you're good and ready."
Gilbert looked at her, uncertain of how to proceed.
"How about this? A few teasers to hold you over until then: you know she was originally from Saskatchewan and that she had brown hair and nut-brown eyes like you. And you know that she and your father met on his first great venture West when a family friend introduced them." Gilbert nodded again. "But did you know that she loved cats? She simply adored them! From a very young age, she cared for as many as she was allowed. At one point she had ten at once. Can you imagine? She loved all animals from what I can tell. I heard a story about her nursing and injured squirrel back to health once, and another about her sleeping in the barn for a week to help a doomed litter of pigs survive."
"I didn't know that. Father didn't speak of her often; I think it was too painful for him"
"It sounds as though she had a harder time connecting with people. Your dad was the fun loving, charismatic one; always the centre of attention."
"That's him alright."
"Eliza was quieter, more reserved. She didn't have family in Avonlea and struggled to make friends; the Avonlea ladies can be quite … difficult ... as you know. But by every account she loved your father very much and he loved her. And everyone I spoke to mentioned how she loved to look up at the stars." She paused. "You're not mad, I hope?"
"No, not at all. I'm just surprised, that's all, and touched that you would go to such trouble for me."
"There's nothing I wouldn't do for you, Gilbert."
"Well, my gift is going to seem absolute rubbish by comparison."
"No it won't! Give it here, I want to see it!"
Gilbert reached his hand into the satchel and pulled out a large rectangular item wrapped in brown paper. Anne grabbed it out of his hands and tore the brown paper to shreds.
"It's a leather-bound portfolio. For your writing. You'll be meeting with editors and publishers in no time and you'll need to look the part."
"Gilbert, it's beautiful. I love it! Thank you so much." He smiled, and looked back down at the newspaper. Anne reached over and took his hand and squeezed it, and together they headed into dinner.
Anne and Gilbert had ten whole days together after Christmas and before they had to head back to their respective schools. Except for that time they got their wires crossed and waited for one another in the cold on opposite sides of town, their time together at home in Avonlea was almost without fault and ripe with the chemistry and fireworks young people in love are known to enjoy.
It was the small things Gilbert did that took Anne's breath away at first. The way his pinky finger tickled hers when they sat next to one another at dinner or how he looked at her from across the room at the ladies auxiliary holiday bazaar. But as their days together drew on, things between them escalated. While Anne and Gilbert were very traditional and conservative in some ways, they were not as rigid as some might have thought when it came to intimacy. Anne figured it must be the trust they'd built over the course of their long friendship combined with the informed and express consent they shared that did it. Gilbert, with his more clinical knowledge of the human body and human sexuality, saw it as something more ingrained and carnal. Regardless, the two couldn't keep their hands off one another!
There was one particularly close call in the barn when they were almost interrupted kissing up in the loft by Matthew in search of a missing pitchfork. And another when Mrs. Lacroix was mere feet from discovering Anne and Gilbert standing in a passionate embrace when an upset Delphine hearkened her back to the kitchen. When it came time to return to school after the new year broke, it was almost a relief as both were 100% committed to not crossing the lines they'd set but at the same time neither were quite sure how to turn down the temperature.
They were fortunate to have the train ride from Bright River to Charlottetown to grieve their parting and a brief stopover allowed Gilbert the pleasure of walking Anne to her boarding house before he headed back to the train station and on to Toronto. There was no kissing under the watchful eye of Mrs. Blackmore but they did have the pleasure of a charged moment standing together at the bottom of the stairs outside the front door before saying goodbye. Both were on cloud nine after a perfect holiday together, convinced that this is how it would always be between them. A dream come true.