Chapter 12

On the evening after Anne and Gilbert arrived in Avonlea, the couple sat around the big table at Green Gables to tell the twins the news. Mrs Lynde sat in the rocking chair working at her sewing, her sharp eyes watching the children's reaction. She clucked her tongue quietly, as Davy began asking questions, while his sister sat silent and shy before the big fellow that Minnie May had once called 'adorable'.

"But you didn't have a wedding. Milty's ma said it's not proper if you don't-"

"We did have a wedding, Davy," Anne explained patiently. "It was just in Kingsport two weeks ago."

"Then why weren't we there? We could have come, couldn't we?"

Gilbert cleared his throat. "Well, it was rather sudden-"

"Did you get Anne into trouble or something?"

There was a sharp intake of breath from the older women, and Anne paled as Gilbert choked violently on his tea. "Certainly not, Davy! Whatever would put such an idea in your head?"

Davy scratched his nose, puzzled. "Milty said his cousin's aunt had to get married fast, 'cause she got into trouble. What did she do that was so bad? I want to know."

Anne's cheeks were scarlet, and her voice was firm. "This is an entirely different thing, Davy. Gilbert and I chose to be married, and we- we just didn't wait until we came home."

"I still want to know why."

Gilbert had found his voice by now. "Because Anne and I care about each other, Davy. More than anyone else. And we wanted to be together, not apart."

Davy frowned. "Then where are you going to live? Are you coming back here?"

Anne gave Mrs Lynde an uneasy glance, as they told the twins about their home in Kingsport, and the fact that they were not staying together these holidays.

She had done as Marilla had suggested that morning, coming into the good lady's domain and sitting down with her at her kitchen table. The older woman had been stiff at first, however she allowed Anne to explain without too many interruptions- and then Anne sat for twenty minutes with gritted teeth listening to all of the ways this situation could be avoided.

When she was done, the older woman had looked at her critically. "Well, we can't do anything to change it now, Anne- you've made your choice. And I don't suppose it's really a poor one- he is an islander, after all."

Anne gave her a faint smile. "He's Gilbert Blythe."

Rachel sniffed. "It was a pity you didn't see that years ago, if you ask me."

Anne was stung by this. "Mrs Lynde, I always saw Gilbert. He is one of my closest friends."

The older woman looked at Anne sharply. "Well, he's not a friend any longer, Anne, he's your husband. And you're going to need to learn to act like it. You don't appreciate Gilbert at his full value, that's what."

Anne choked on the cookie she was eating. "Pardon me?"

"You heard me, Miss Anne," she said imperiously. "You might be able to fool the others, but you can't fool me. You've been running away from this."

Anne placed the remainder of the biscuit on her plate with shaking fingers, swallowing. "I- we- I'm trying," she whispered.

Mrs Lynde harrumphed, and then looked at the girl with keen eyes. "Ypu know, my Myra was like you, once. She married a schoolteacher years ago- not that she made it easy for him at the time."

Anne picked up her teacup, feeling somewhat bewildered. "I- I see."

"No, you don't. Not yet," Mrs Lynde said crisply. "Sometimes we aren't ready for what life throws at us. You and Gilbert were dreadful foolish, Anne- but it doesn't mean you can't choose to make it work."

Anne gave her a half-smile. "We're depending on that, Mrs Lynde."

All in all, she reflected dryly when she was alone in her room, it hadn't been so terrible. Of course, she could have done without the lecture of the nature of man's urge for sex, and the need to repress it for their own good. Anne groaned and fell on the bed then, burying her face in her pillows. Gilbert had been every inch the gentleman she knew him to be- she didn't need the reminder that he was also every inch the red-blooded male she uneasily suspected he was. Of course, that was a good thing, wasn't it? He was passionately driven in every aspect of his life- and she could at least acknowledge that spending forever in a passionless marriage would be a terrible thing. For now, though, it wasn't the time, she told herself sternly. Any introspection about her temperamental feelings- or his for that matter- would conveniently need to wait.

Back in the present, Anne looked around the table at the people who made up her family. Marilla and Mrs Lynde had both stayed quiet, allowing Anne and Gilbert to tell their news in their own fashion.

Anne looked into Davy's rebellious face and sighed. "Davy, we know that this news is very sudden for you all," she said gently. "We came home as soon as we could- and we are each staying with our families to give everyone time to get used to this. We wanted to see you all. Imagine if I had gone straight to Gilbert's parent's home with him after telling you? I wouldn't be here then."

"Bet Gil just could've come here," Davy muttered, and Gilbert's smile quirked.

"Yes, but then my parents wouldn't have seen me. Next time will be different, I promise- we'll probably split our holidays between the farm and Green Gables, if everyone approves. And you won't lose Anne- you just get me as a part of the family as well," he said frankly, and the smile reappeared on the lad's face.

"Well, at least you're married now, Anne- Mrs Andrews told Milty's ma that you'd likely end up a spinster, despite all that schooling."

Gilbert's jaw dropped, as Marilla spoke sharply. "Davy Keith! Stop that foolish talk immediately. If our neighbours are indiscreet, it isn't our job to repeat it. As it is, Anne's married Gilbert now, and all is as it should be. We'll have a party to celebrate their wedding soon enough."

Gilbert sighed in relief. With their parents on their side, all would be well- and a smile began to grow on his face as he looked at the twins. He had a brother and sister, for the first time in his life. He knew that Anne regarded them as such- now they would belong to him too.

He was watching his wife when she bent forward to touch Dora's plump, little hand. "Dora? Did you have any questions?" she asked softly. "You can ask us anything you like."

Dora, who looked rather as if she wanted the floor to swallow her, chanced a look at Anne's shoulder. "Did you have a wedding dress?"

There were smiles from the older people, and Anne's response was quiet. "I'll bring it home so that you can see it next summer. It's very pretty."

"She was lovely in it," Gilbert added, his eyes warm.

Davy huffed then. "So I 'spose this is what it's going to be like- girls and dresses from now on. Are you done telling us everything now?"

Marilla rolled her eyes. "I suppose a wedding has little appeal for a twelve-year-old boy," she commented dryly, and Mrs Lynde snorted.

"Yes, we're done," Anne said, amused. "No more questions?"

Davy paused. "Are you going to have to have babies now, Anne?"

"Davy," Dora squeaked unexpectedly, her cheeks red with mortification. "You're not ever supposed to talk about children."

"Why not? Milty said that people wait a couple of months after the wedding and then the girl gets fat and the doctor comes and gives them a baby- and he should know, because his ma-"

"That's quite enough, Davy," Rachel snapped, shaking out the fabric in her hands. "For goodness sake, Marilla, I told you it was high time you talked to him about these matters. Heaven knows what he's been told from the others at school- it's about time he got the real facts." She turned to Gilbert then with a calculating look, who visibly recoiled. "It might be better if he got his information from a man, in fact."

For the second time that day Anne choked on her tea, and she was grateful for Gilbert's hand patting her back as she caught her breath. Gilbert hid his own trepidation and looked at Marilla, who was doing her best not to smile.

"I think that's up to Gilbert, Rachel. You can't just tell him to do it."

"Well, he's by far the better expert, and there's no one else-"

Gilbert swallowed, thinking that he was in an un-winnable situation.

"It's fine, Marilla," Gilbert managed, wanting to end the discussion. He'd taken the beloved girl who was the very heart of this home without so much as a by-your-leave- surely, anything they asked, he should do. How hard could it be? He looked over at the puzzled face of his new brother and gulped.

"Alright, Davy- what do you say to you and I going for a- a walk tomorrow?"

The boy shrugged. "As long as we don't talk about dresses, sure."

"Fine. Totally no dresses." Gilbert, who had suddenly heard himself turned to see his wife's cheeks flush brightly, and he stood up quickly, wanting to avoid Mrs Lynde's disapproving countenance, while his wretched mind conjured up the image of Anne's pretty clothes- which he was trying very hard to not think about in the company of her family.

Or more specifically, the beloved girl beneath them.

"Er- alright, then. Marilla, Mrs Lynde, it's gotten dark quickly- I don't want mother worrying. I'd better get home. Anne, I'll see you tomorrow." He gave an embarrassed nod to the room and somehow got himself out of there, grabbing his hat and coat on the way.

He could hear Anne following, but it was only on the veranda that she caught up to him breathlessly, finding him leaning against the side of the house with eyes shut, and a hot face.

"Anne, I'm sorry," he groaned. "I mean, I know I had some form of punishment coming, but giving 'the talk' to your adopted brother wasn't how I thought it would happen."

Anne had tried to stay sober as she watched him, but at the thought of the task before him she couldn't help giggling- and when he turned to her in bewilderment she broke down completely. She slid down the wall clutching her side, tears of laughter falling freely. Gilbert's smile was sheepish and at the funny gurgle she gave he began to laugh as well. He sat down beside her, pulling her hand into his as they eventually sobered.

"You don't really have to do it, Gil," Anne managed at last, wiping her eyes with a chuckle. "I can talk to him."

Gilbert grinned, enjoying being alone with her once more. "It's alright. He might take it better from another fellow. Dad talked to me when I was fifteen- about two years too late, I might add," he said wryly. "I pretended it was the first I'd heard of it."

Anne sighed as she looked out into the twilight, relaxing. "I was somewhat left to gain impressions on my own."

Gilbert turned to study her pensive face. "No one had that talk with you?"

"Well, Marilla did it partly when- well, when it became necessary." She saw Gilbert's frown, and then his face cleared.

"Oh. You mean when you first-"

She flushed, however, she continued. "Yes. As to the rest of it- the people I grew up with weren't always discreet. I probably heard a lot more than I was meant to."

Gilbert turned to study her, suddenly feeling pained on behalf of Anne, of Davy and Dora. They hadn't their own parents to talk to them about the mysteries of life- it was left to others to make them feel safe in a world that kept changing. Only too well did he remember how hard it was to find his feet when he had returned to Avonlea at thirteen. Tall and awkward, hands too big for his body, and the restlessness that never seemed to abate- he had had his father to go to, at least. He looked at the miraculous girl beside him, clasping her hand tighter.

"I don't know what you had to hear back then," he found himself saying slowly, "I don't know what anyone's told you. But- Anne, I swear that I'd never do anything to hurt you."

To his surprise, her grey eyes didn't fall, although her cheeks heated. "I know that you wouldn't." She pulled away then, standing up and brushing down her blue skirts. She reached down then to pull him to his feet, before raising herself on tiptoe to wind his forgotten scarf around his neck.

"So. Another night away from each other," he said, visibly reluctant.

Anne smiled wickedly. "Careful, Gilbert- you might give me the impression that you miss your accidental wife."

He scowled at her then. "Our marriage wasn't accidental- only the events leading up to it. Besides, I do. We just learned to sleep in the same bedroom- I don't fancy having to get used to it all over again when we're finally back home."

"It's only eleven days, Gil," Anne reminded him with a sigh. "We need this time with our families- and you know that we'll see each other far more than we would have if we weren't married."

Gilbert thought back to the frustration of the previous Christmas, privately agreeing with her. He placed his hat on his thick, brown curls, his hazel eyes twinkling. "You're right. Well- goodnight, my wife."

She smiled, her eyebrows rising at her title. Two could play at that game. "Goodnight, my husband."

He had to swallow down the longing he felt at her low voice, but his eyes were gleaming as he bent to kiss the top of her red head. Then he was gone, his firm stride carrying him down the lane into the gloam.

It was a crisp, sparkling morning when Anne walked up the path of Orchard Slope on Wednesday, pausing to appreciate the beauty of the winter's day. Her knock was met by a cacophony of noise- Minnie May's new cocker spaniel began to bark, (a beautiful dog with a perfectly horrid disposition, according to Diana), and she could hear Mrs Barry scolding Minnie May for the disturbance. Diana could be heard calling that she would be down in a minute, and it was Stephen Barry who opened the door in his overalls, his work clothes as ever contrasted against his painfully tidy hair and neatly trimmed moustache. He held out his foot to restrain the barking animal, ushering Anne inside.

"Anne, welcome," he said kindly, before scowling at the dog. "Do excuse the noise, he has yet to learn manners."

Anne smiled. "I have a cat in Kingsport, Mr Barry; I can assure you that he has no manners at all."

He ushered her toward the sitting room, and before Anne could draw a breath she was met with two silk-clad arms that were set to squeeze the life out of her. "Darling, oh, but I've missed you!" Diana cried exuberantly. "It's been the longest of terms-"

Anne laughed, reaching up to remove her hat. "I only left here in September, darling Di. Is that so long when you are so blissfully occupied?"

Diana snorted, pushing Anne down into the cozy sofa. "Blissfully occupied, my foot, Anne. I am down to embroidering doilies, now- purely because there is nothing else I can do."

Anne smiled as Mrs Barry brought in the tea tray, pausing to welcome Anne and cluck over the shadows under her eyes. Diana rolled her own behind her mothers back, and when she was gone, she poured the tea herself with a droll look. "You don't know how I've envied you, Anne- it must be nice to have a sense of purpose."

Anne couldn't help but protest. "You have a wonderful one, Di."

Diana exhaled crossly. "Not yet, I don't. Anne, the wedding is six months away, and my hope chest is utterly full. I have made so much linen that the cupboard at the new house is full as well. I have embroidered tea towels, three quilts, my sheets have the most time-consuming lace that I could make for them- and I am almost finished my trousseau. And I am not doing the rest in case I get stouter in the intervening time."

Anne's grey eyes twinkled. "Well, you did want to have more than thirty-six doilies, Di. You could work on improving that total."

"There were fifty-nine at last count," Diana grumbled, with a little twinkle in her eye. "I've taken to giving them away. Do you need any to dress your home in Kingsport?"

Anne blanched. "Oh- I-"

Diana shifted her ruby coloured skirts to one side as she turned on the sofa, her dark eyes pleading. "Anne, please tell me there is a greater world out there- tell me everything. I am so tired of life being an endless series of teacups and thimbles, and the women of this town telling me to make the most of being engaged since I would likely find marriage no better. I need you to tell me that life hasn't stopped just because I have."

Anne flushed, her fingers automatically going to the chain around her neck. "I- I do have some news for you, Di."

Diana sat up with a squeal. "Brilliant! Tell me everything!"

"I- well, it's a little hard to begin," said poor Anne.

Diana waved away her concern. "Is your news school-related or... romantic?"

Anne hedged for a moment. "I suppose you could say both," she murmured doubtfully.

Diana's eyes widened, and she tried to contain her excitement. "That's wonderful! And is it someone I know, or someone new?"

There was a tiny pause, then. "It's someone you know."

"Oh! Please tell me that the romantic part of this is more important than the academic side-"

Anne shrugged her shoulders jerkily- and something of her nerves seemed to penetrate her friend's conscious. Diana worked to breathe slowly. "Alright. Anne, darling, please tell me that the subject of the romantic issue is the very person I am hoping it is-"

She held her breath as Anne's face turned pink. "It's Gilbert, Di," she admitted quietly, before her bosom friend erupted from her chair in a crimson hurricane, screaming as she threw her arms around Anne's slim body.

"I knew it, I knew it! I knew you would figure it out! Oh, Anne darling, what did he say? How did he tell you? Did he propose? Has he gone to Marilla yet? Oh, of course she would say yes- although she doesn't believe that he needs to ask, since you are almost twenty-one, now. Oh, Anne, you will look like an angel in your bridesmaid gown at the wedding, standing right there beside him- when people finally see the two of you together, they will hardly believe that you aren't the bride and groom-"

Anne's lips were numb as she tried to interrupt Diana's flow of chatter. "Di-"

Diana seemed to rein herself in then, noticing how uneasy Anne was. "Forgive me, dearest- you were telling me about it, not the other way around."

Anne drew in a shaking breath and tried to smile. "It's alright. It's just rather hard to put into words."

Diana sat back on the sofa, her look loving. "Just start from the beginning, Anne. You know that I'll listen."

"Thank you." She smiled, her chin rising courageously. "You won't believe this, Di- I find myself hardly believing it, sometimes-" she seemed to shake off her distraction then, and turned to her friend. "Well, it is about Gilbert- and yes, we are together now." Anne found her hand clasped to Diana's ample bosom with a sigh, her friend's eyes glowing with happiness. "We- we decided it rather suddenly- because something happened- there was an accident-"

Diana sighed happily. "And I suppose that showed you that you loved him! Oh, Anne, how romantic."

Anne's brow lowered. "Not exactly," she said feebly, knowing that the worst revelation was yet to come. "We- talked about things, and then Gilbert proposed-"

"Was it terribly romantic?"

Anne gave a small smile, remembering the awkward way Gilbert had dropped to his knees, and the look of annoyance on his face as his shoulder hurt him. "It was very heartfelt- and he was so determined to make everything better," she said softly. She had almost forgotten that Diana did not know the main point of the conversation between them, until her friend's next question.

"And so the two of you are really truly engaged now?"

Anne felt the colour recede from her face. "No, Di."

Diana sat back, her eyes wide with concern. "But Anne, you said-"

"Di, we're not engaged now," she said softly. "It's a little more complicated than that. Gil and I were married two and a half weeks ago."

The black eyes blinked, and Anne held her breath as Diana smiled. "Darling, you've already surprised me- you needn't tease me as well."

"I'm not teasing you, dearest."

Diana's stunned face showed her scepticism. "But- you're both in college. You're the smartest people I know. You would never be so foolish."

Anne swallowed hard. "You- you might be surprised."

She froze as Diana stood up, her face losing the rest of its colour.

"Anne, what happened? Did you sleep with him?"

Anne stood up then, agitated. "No, no. Of course not, Diana. But Gilbert was injured- and there was no one there to care for him-"

Diana held up her hand, shaking her head. "I should have known," she said, her voice trembling. "You were so adamant that there was nothing between you- and all this time you just were hiding it from me-"

"I meant what I said at the time, Diana," Anne insisted shakily.

"I understand that you didn't want everyone to gossip about your feelings for him- but why would you not tell me the truth? Did you think that I wouldn't be happy for you? I gave you so many chances to tell me that you loved him!"

"Diana, I care about Gil; I always have. But this was completely unexpected-"

"And yet you say that you're married to him now," Diana said, turning back to her slowly. "Not courting, not engaged, but married. Why now? Gilbert has no job, and heaven knows the Blythes don't have money- why would he suggest something so foolish at this moment? And why on earth would you agree?"

"Di, it was the only way," Anne exclaimed desperately. "We would have been asked to leave college- and there is no way that he could become a doctor if he left now. I'm not saying I was ready for this, but his future was more important than whatever I felt."

Diana's face was pale, and she shook her head. "You were compromised, weren't you?"

A flash of colour covered Anne's cheeks. "Diana, if you would just listen-"

The black haired girl shook her head, her eyes brimming with tears. "No. You're smarter than this, Anne. You wouldn't have let it happen if you didn't want him. But why couldn't you wait? He's waited for you for years."

Anne drew herself up, shaking. "Diana, neither of us had any intention for this to happen. The accident-"

"No. No accident could do this," Diana said in a low voice. "You've been in love, and you didn't have the decency to tell your closest friend when she asked. You didn't tell me that you were marrying him without any of us being there for you. I've waited for two and a half years for the man I love, but you couldn't wait until the end of college- you couldn't even wait two and a half weeks to come home for the holidays. If his dreams had meant something to you, you would have waited."

Anne's grey eyes sparkled with hurt. "Gilbert's dreams mean everything to me, Di," she whispered harshly. "You don't know what I have sacrificed to preserve them. Our marriage was a necessity, which is something that both of our families have tried to understand, even at cost to themselves. Gilbert and I are going to finish out our degrees together- and we will start properly then."

Diana gave her a brittle look then, and for the first time, Anne saw the shadow of Lenore Barry in her daughter's face.

"Well, it seems that Fred and I will need to find someone else to take your place in our wedding, Anne. I can't have a married bridesmaid, after all. I hope you will both still come to the wedding anyway. For the record, I- I always pictured you as the next Mrs Blythe. I hope you will be very happy together."

"Di," Anne pleaded, a hot tear falling down her cheek.

"Anne, I'm terribly sorry, but I have to go now," Diana said, refusing to look at Anne now. "Fred was wanting me to drive over to the house this afternoon- something about a new washstand he had installed last week. Perhaps we might talk about this after the holidays. May I drop you home to Green Gables on my way? Or is your husband expecting you?"

Anne recoiled as if Diana had slapped her. She got to her feet and pulled her coat on with shaking hands. "No. Thank you. You know how I love to be outside when I come home."

She left Diana with a feeling of numbness. Her friend's false brightness was impossible to take, and as she heard the heavy door shut behind her, she shook, wishing sickly that she had accepted Gilbert's offer to accompany her. Of all of the things she had worried about, she had never feared Diana's reaction- perhaps blindly, she had expected her to see the matter as the girls had done. There had never before been a quarrel between them before- and yet how else to account for the iciness of her friend's manner?

Anne left the Haunted Wood behind her and stumbled her way through the barren landscape in misery. Gilbert would come for supper that night- until then, she would need to face this alone. She was relieved to find no one at home at Green Gables: Marilla had taken the twins to Carmody for her Christmas shopping, and Mrs Lynde was visiting the McPherson's. Anne went straight to her bedroom, sitting down on the low, white bed, her eyes full of unimaginable pain. She swallowed, telling herself that it would be fine. Diana was hurt and upset, she was simply taken by surprise. The logic could have soothed her- and yet it was the memory of her friend's angry face that seemed to shatter her heart. The cry that left her throat seemed to come from the heart-hungry eleven-year-old she had been, the one who had sworn eternal friendship to Diana over a garden path.

Gilbert found her an hour later. His mother had been occupied by flapping around the house, amassing a pile of all of the things the young couple could need for the months ahead in the cottage. Gilbert had not been able to answer the questions fired at him regarding his bride's preferences, and he had promised that he would ask her as soon as possible, thinking guiltily that if he went to Green Gables there would at least be peace there- he hadn't slept much in the night previous in his old room.

He could hear nothing as he entered the kitchen, however, he could see Anne's damp jacket hanging on the hook- she was here. When he had exhausted the downstairs he climbed the stairs slowly, looking around in curiosity at the half of the house he had never seen. Her room was on the east of the house- he knew that much. As he climbed, he heard the sound of a faint sob and hastened his steps to find her lying on her bed, crying as if her heart had broken- and perhaps it had. He was beside her in a moment, his hands reaching for her instantly; smoothing the wet red hair from her face, and stroking her shaking shoulders. When she curled into a ball, he moved onto the bed then, shifting her so that her head lay in his lap, murmuring comforting words as she cried.

It was a long time before the storm abated, and his own heart was in tatters as he waited it out. When she was calmer, and he thought that she could hear him, he spoke.

"So it didn't go so well with Diana," he stated quietly.

Anne shook her head, sitting up to reach into her bedside table for the embroidered handkerchiefs that lay there. "No," she choked. "I expected your mother to accuse me of ruining your life- Marilla to be disappointed by my behaviour- but I never thought that Diana wouldn't understand. Gil, the look on her face when I told her," she said, a fresh sob breaking from her throat again.

Gilbert held her close, not wanting her to see his own anger at the situation. He spoke gently. "Sweetheart, maybe she's just in shock. She might need time."

Anne's face crumpled, and she buried her face in his shoulder. "She was so hurt by it, Gil. I tried to explain, but she seems to think that I was keeping secrets- about us from her. I didn't even get to tell her about the accident."

The two of them sat in silence for a long time, his arms holding her securely. After a while Gilbert smoothed the hair from her wet cheeks, his hands cupping her face. "Do you want us to go home, sweetheart?"

For a brief moment, Anne thought of the little house waiting for them in Kingsport. Their home was safe. She lifted her head then, and shook it slowly. "No, Gil. Our families don't deserve that. I won't do that to them."

He smiled, marvelling again at her bravery. "And if we could take them all with us?"

"Then I would jump on the four o'clock train with you right now."

He chuckled, and his touch was gentle as he cradled her head on his good shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Anne. I should have been there."

Anne shook her head, her grey eyes dull. "No, Gil. You shouldn't. It was mine to face." She hunted out a dry spot on her handkerchief, blinking up at her husband with swollen eyes. "Why are you here so early?"

He grinned. "Because Mother is convinced you and I are living without any creature comforts- so she's sending plenty home with us. China, linen, preserves- I have no idea how she plans for us to transport it."

"She isn't angry with us, is she?"

He looked down to see her lips quivering again, and wrapped her in his arms. "No, sweetheart. We knew they would be disappointed- but it didn't last, did it?" he reminded her compassionately. "Our families are rallying behind us- and as for everyone else, they'll see eventually. We're going to be alright. And Diana will come around. I would guess that some of her anger isn't about us."

Anne sat back, swallowing hard. "What do you mean?"

Gilbert sighed, reaching up to loosen his tie. "Anne, she wasn't there with us. She wasn't a part of us getting to this point. If she'd been there with us in Kingsport, you know she would have been planning the wedding along with Phil and the others."

"I wish she had been," Anne mumbled.

He nodded, his hazel eyes loving. "I know. But Anne, she doesn't know college life. She hasn't lived away from Avonlea. It's not her fault, but I don't think she has any idea what we are up against. I don't know if she even understands what we are working for. And we are working for something," he reminded her. "Let's give her a few days, sweetheart. It's going to be alright." He turned to her on the little white bed, and his look was gentle. "But in the meantime, we're about to have our first Christmas as husband and wife. We need to celebrate with our families, even if the others don't understand yet. And my mother is so happy to be having your family over for Christmas night- she's hemstitching new napkins for it- whatever that means."

Anne chuckled then, sitting up to run her fingers through her now messy curls. "It means she is a wonderful hostess." She let out a shaky sigh, and then suddenly paused. "Gil?"

"Mmm?"

"All of these things your mother is assembling for the Mushroom-"

"Yes?"

"Where on earth will we put it all?"