Always
"Does Mr Philips not think that I have better things to do with my time than to track up and down to Gilbert Blythe everyday?" Whined Anne. It wasn't the walk to and from school than had annoyed Anne, it was the fact that Mr Philips had called Gilbert his best student. Best student she thought. He hadn't missed as much school as she had in her early days, and yet she still managed to beat him in the spelling bee. Anne was awoken from her thoughts as Marilla spoke.
"You were up at the Blythe household?" She questioned. She wasn't interested in Annes petty worries at this time. She had heard from Rachael that John Blythe was quite unwell. She wondered had Anne noticed him while she had called. Anne simply nodded as she sipped on her glass of milk. Oh how she enjoyed her simple milk and scone after a day at school.
Marilla asks how John was nonchalantly. She didn't want Anne to notice her intrigue and ask questions as Anne was inclined to do. Anne, encapsulated in her own thoughts, simply replied that he had asked about her. Marillas heart almost stopped. She dearly wanted to Ask Anne more, to find out what John had fully said but she knew that Anne would be so enthralled to learn more about their shared history , their 'tragical romance' but Marilla wasn't prepared to share her fondest memories with her yet. Thankfully Anne continued on with her tales from her day at school. Marilla feigns interest but her mind is filled with thoughts and concerns about one man; John Blythe.
Marilla had heard that chatter about how unwell John had been. She had herself overheard Mrs Kincannon speaking with Mrs Barry after church on Sunday. She couldn't help but eavesdrop. She listened as Mrs Kincannon informed Eliza that John wasn't going to get any better. He had a short time left and had been enjoying spending it with Gilbert. She spoke of how tremendously brave Gilbert had been despite his fathers ailing ways. Rachel had also kept Marilla well informed. She understood the relationship Marilla and John had had, and more importantly she had understood the pain of seeing him leave had caused Marilla. Rachel knew too well not to force the topic of conversation as she knew it reminded Marilla sorely of her missed opportunities.
That night sleep escapes Marilla. She tosses and turns in her lonely bed. She tries to read to tire herself out but nothing seems to work. Her mind is burdened. She knows in her heart that if she does not reconcile with John before his passing she will never forgive herself. She had lived the past 50 years with regret, she didn't want to spend whatever time she had left regretting her choices. Soon the morning sun has risen and Marilla knew what she must do
The next morning Marilla makes her way to Blythe farm. She told Matthew she was going to Rachel's, she didn't need any questions from Matthew. On second thought he probably would have said nothing anyways. She smiled as she thought of her younger brother. He was a man of few words but at times, especially since dear Anne's arrival, he had been more inclined to question Marilla about certain things or reminisce about the past. When they were younger she didn't think he had paid any notice of her and John but since that she had become aware that he knew much more than he ever let on. He brought up their 'stolen kiss or two' a few years back. He had never mentioned it before. But that was the kind of person Matthew was. He knew much more than he liked to show, and only divulged this retained information as needed.
As Marilla reached the homestead she was greeted by Mrs Kincannon. Marilla had known Miss Kincannon for years. She was a few years younger than Marilla but they often met each other in the grocers or at church and exchanged pleasantries.
"Marilla, what a pleasant surprise. John will be pleased to see you" remarked Mrs Kincannon, "He often speaks about you you know. And he was quite surprised when I told him about your Anne. I'm sure he would love to hear all the details". Marilla was unsure how to respond. She simply gave a small smile and followed Mrs Kincannon in to the house. She directed Marilla to John's room.
Marilla enters to find John in bed, he looks weak and failed. He is but a shadow of his former self. She can't help but notice the greyish tinge of his skin and the hint of blue in his lips. She hadn't seen him in years but she hadn't prepared herself to see him like this. He was no longer the handsome, muscular teenager with a head full of dark curls that she remembered. She doesn't make a noise as he is asleep and she knows he needs to rest. Mrs Kincannon pops her head around the corner to inform Marilla she is going to run an errand and will be back in a few hours.
Marilla sits silently on the chair beside Johns bed. She watches the rise and fall of his chest. She can't help but notice the rattle emanating from his chest as he took each breath. She knew all too well what that rattle meant. She gazes around the room and notices his chapeau. A redness rises to her cheeks, she couldn't help but blush. Their first kiss was shared after she had first seen that chapeau. Absentmindedly she traced her fingers across her lips, as though she could still feel his warm kiss from many years before. She caught herself daydreaming and let out a small giggle. How many times over the years had she scolded Anne for daydreaming now here she was with her head in the clouds doing the same.
John stirs and Marilla immediately feels guilty, he had looked so peaceful.
John looks at Marilla, and extends his hand out to her. A single tear streams down his face. It's not a sad tear, nor a sorrowful tear, but a happy tear. "Show me mercy Mar" he whispers before a bought of coughing overtakes him. Which in turn amplifies the rattle within his chest.
Marilla starts to fuss over him, it is unlike her but she is at a loss at what to do. She offers him water but he declines.Moments pass before John catches his breath. He allows Marilla to help him sit upright in the bed, allowing him to breath more freely. As he regains his composure Marilla returns to her seat. She nervously tugs at her thick brown belt and then twiddles her thumbs. She is nervous and she isn't sure of what to say. Does she address the elephant in the room and ask him how he is? Or does she just engage in smalltalk and hope John brings it up by himself. Before Marilla can say anything John begins to speak in a low raspy voice.
"Do you forgive me mar?" His voice low and raspy is laced with regret.
"There is nothing to forgive John. It is I who should apologise, for giving you the impression that I could be brave enough, I couldn't go. My family needed me and I had to stay"
John reached out his hand. Marilla felt perhaps he found it hard to speak without loosing his breath. In the silence however he said much more than he could with words. He rubbed his fingers gently across her knuckles, a tender touch he had made so many times before, so many years ago.
"I hear you're a mother now" he smirked. He meant no malice with his comment but Marilla couldn't help but feel a twinge in her heart as he smiled. At one time she was sure she would have a family with John. She had imagined a life so very different to the one she had lived. John studied her face, he knew he had offended her. "I'm sorry Marilla. I didn't mean to cause any offence. Gilbert has been talking so very much about your Ann"
'Your Anne 'she smiled. "Yes indeed Anne has been a great addition to our lives and to green gables all around. She is a bright little thing, too bright by half. She's changed our lives on more way than we could've imagined. She's been a blessing." They talked about other happenings in Avonlea for a period. Marilla prepared some tea for them both. John joked how he was a bad host. They shared a laugh. Marilla looked at the clock, she wondered how long Mrs Kincannon would be.
"She'll be another hour yet I'd guess" said John. "I can still read you like a book Mar. Somethings never change" He looked at Marilla intently.
"Lay with me Mar, please". Marilla's eyes grew wide and her mouth opened slightly. He had always been outgoing and forward but propositioning her? She definitely hadn't expected that. John shook his head and smiled, "not like that Mar. I just want to hold you. Remember that one day we made it to the beach? You had worked so hard all morning to get your chores done to meet me, you fell asleep in the sand. I held you for what felt like an eternity. I just want to hold you Mar. I've no indecent intentions, not that I'd be able anyway" he chucked in hopes of lightening the mood.
Marillas mind travelled back to that day on the beach. They had talked and talked about their hopes and ambitions, they laughed and joked about the small things in life. When she had fallen asleep she didn't know that John had been holding her. When she awoke however she didn't want to move. She knew this was where she belonged. She closed her eyes again in hopes she could let the moment live just a little while longer.
She gazed at John, this was the only man she had ever loved, probably the only man she would ever love romantically. His eyes were still as inviting as ever, and brimming with hope. How could she deny him this. Without a word Marilla stood and walked to the other side of the bed, she was slightly nervous and began to touch at her hair, something she did when she was under pressure.
"You got rid of your braids. I adored your long dark hair. You really were the most beautiful girl in Avonlea." John had told Marilla when they were young that she was the most beautiful girl in Avonlea, he always made her feel special. She never took well to compliments but he made her believe that she was truly beautiful.
Marilla tugged at the pins in her tightly wound bun, a few pulls and her hair fell, cascading around her shoulder blades and framing the delicate angles of her face. Her silver strand more prominent now she had her hair down, but John looked at them with pure adoration. He couldn't help but smile., 'Beautiful as ever Mar."
They spoke no words as Marilla lay down beside John. There was no nerves, no awkwardness. It was as though this moment had been coming for years, decades even. John raises his arm and Marilla placed her head on his chest. Marilla felt a sense of belonging she never knew she had been missing. After a few tender touches and a tight embrace John fell asleep but Marilla lay still listening to the beating of his heart. She could hear his laboured breathing and the rattle in his chest. She had heard it before with her parents, she knows John doesn't have long left. She looks at the clock again. She must go, and Mrs Kincannon will be back soon.
Marilla gently extracts herself from johns arms and pins her hair back in her infamous bun. Before heading to the door she straightens out her dress and takes a look in the mirror. She studied the gentle lines around her face and the silver strands scattered around her face. The years hadn't been kind but in that moment she felt as beautiful as she ever had before. That was all due to her beloved John Blythe. She allowed herself to imagine how life could've been for a few moments longer before turning to leave.
As she made her way to the door, trying not to wake him, John reached out to her, "all my love Mar, always." John knows this is their last farewell. A single tear cascades down his pale face. "Always" Marilla whispers as she places a delicate kiss on his lips. And with that she saw her only true love for the final time. She cried in private on her walk home. A mixture of sadness at the life she missed out on but also a contentment at having made amends with John. She knew she would always have those final moments to relish for the rest of her years.
It was the next day when Marilla heard the news of Johns passing. Rachel had called to inform her. She relayed to Marilla that she heard he had passed peacefully.
"Small mercies" was all Marilla could respond. Rachel knew her friend was grieving but she also knew Marilla needed space to be with her thoughts. She took her leave shortly thereafter.
As Marilla retired to bed that night she found herself unable to hold back her tears. Tears she had held for centuries. Her body ached, her heart was heavy. She fell asleep that night when there were no mare tears left to cry, holding tightly to the blue ribbon she had once given to Anne, but which had once been given to her by John Blythe, a token of their intended love.