Chapter 16

On the twenty-first of January, Kingsport recorded its lowest temperature in a decade. Students huddled about in small groups trying to remain protected from the icy wind, and the stern librarian grumbled that never was the place so busy, as when it was cold outside. The snow was holding off for the time being, with great heavy clouds threatening all kinds of chaos when it finally broke. Gilbert watched the sky uneasily, and could be seen outside chopping firewood in his spare moments, storing it under the low eaves beside the outhouse. They didn't want to be caught out in this kind of weather.

Anne had taken to brewing tea with lemon and honey to stave off the sore throats that were strained through the long days running to and fro at college, and piled their beds high with the blankets sent from home. On the nights when the temperature grew too chilly, she placed heated bags of rice that Marilla had sent at the foot of their beds, much to Gilbert's astonishment. The pump in the kitchen was harder to use on these days, and mugs of tea were nursed in the morning in chapped hands before the door to an icy world would be wrenched open with increasing reluctance.

A pattern of sorts was establishing itself now at the Mushroom. On most afternoons, Anne and Gilbert would arrive home within an hour of each other, and Gilbert's cooking lessons became a reality- as he said, chemistry and cooking were certainly related. As the cold wrapped around the little house, the home was becoming a haven of warmth, and evenings were spent studying together where the wind was unable to penetrate.

On Tuesdays, Charlie would come for tea, and sit arguing the finer points of chemistry and history with Gilbert. Anne sat with her sewing or schoolwork, her eyes twinkling at the teasing from her husband that Charlie would never fully understand. She couldn't begrudge Charlie the time; Phil had told her that he had put more than one person in their place publicly, asserting that his old friends had a right to get married, whenever, and to whomever, they chose.

College had proved challenging, in more ways than one. There was much speculation once the marriage became public knowledge, and Anne was growing tired of explaining what they could not explain. Those in her classes watched her with open curiosity, and Anne grew more sensitive to their stares and whispers.

"It was so quick- I didn't even know they were courting."

"Maybe it was a merger between families?"

"No- I don't think they have money like that."

"Oh, come on, we used to see her going everywhere with him- they've been in love for years."

"She'll have to leave college if she gets pregnant, surely."

Anne sat still in class, clenching together shaking fingers. Surely it would die down soon. The weight of it, however, was starting to wear on her. Phil and the girls had insisted on taking her to one of the tearooms as a treat the day before, and she had needed to turn away from another table of girls who were watching Anne- and their focus was not on her face.

A compassionate Priscilla nudged Anne. "Ignore them. They'll find something else to talk about soon," she had said comfortingly.

At the end of class on this particular day, Anne was stopped by none other than Claire Hallett- and stood still, her face impassive.

"Well! You and Gilbert are certainly making an impression on campus as Redmond's only married couple. No doubt you love the notoriety."

Anne smiled calmly. "We aren't the only students who are married, Claire. And we certainly aren't notorious. A simple life and a good education are all we want."

Claire rolled her eyes. "Oh, please, Anne. Do you hear yourself? I'd be surprised if you came to college merely to get married. You're hardly the type."

"And what am I, Claire?"

"The ambitious type, I think," Claire said sweetly. "Sometimes I wonder if the 'getting married' was a little bit- accidental."

Anne forced herself to laugh, seeing to her chagrin that Roy was packing up his books, listening intently. "Marriage is far too serious to be an accident, Claire."

There was a pause, then. "And if I see your marriage as a smokescreen for something else?"

Green eyes met blue, and Claire took a step back at Anne's fury. "Your opinion means nothing to me. The only opinion I care for is my husband's- and my own. If we are happy, then that is enough."

Anne lifted her chin and swept from the room, the door banging closed behind her.

"Well," the other woman said with spite, and Roy turned to her curiously.

"Why do you bait her, Miss Hallett?"

"Why does everyone insist on defending her?" she spat. "What has she done that is so spectacular?"

Roy was unperturbed. "She's exceptional. She's led the class since her freshman year, hasn't she?"

Claire picked up her books, throwing him a brittle smile. "Perhaps. But she isn't the only one who can write."

The article in the Redmond Chronicle came out in late January. It was read by every student, whispered over in the dining halls, and passed from hand to hand with speed. Most believed there was at least some truth in it- and many more eyes were directed towards the couple that were trying to evade everyone's curiosity.

Gilbert was summoned to Professor Hallett's office that same day and asked if he had read it- to which he stiffly answered in the negative. He was handed the paper, and sat before Hallett's desk, his eyes moving over the anonymous article, wondering sickly if Anne had seen it yet.

"Well?"

Gilbert bit back the temptation to say something sharp and folded his arms belligerently.

"Is there anything you wish to say?"

"Yes," Gilbert said, gritting his teeth. "Who wrote this?"

"That is irrelevant."

Gilbert bounded to his feet then, furious. "Sir, it is a college publication. It's one of the students in the school- someone who thinks that it would be a lark to destroy our reputations. I want to know who it is."

The professor's gaze was steady. "Why? So you can exact justice?" He took the paper back, folding it meticulously. "The article calls for your resignation from the student committee and the football team."

Gilbert paused. "Are you demanding that of me, sir?"

"I am tempted." Hallett looked at him, his eyes narrowed. "Perhaps it would be easier for you and Miss Shirley if you removed yourself from the limelight."

Gilbert ignored Anne's incorrect name and shook his head. "I won't do that." At the professor's surprise, he sighed, exasperated. "And no, it's not me trying to cling to power. The position holds all the glory and influence of a goat-herder." Gilbert didn't see the hint of a smile on the older man's face, and by the time he looked back his face was carefully blank. "If you want to remove me from the position, then do it. But I won't resign. That tells everyone that we've done something wrong."

"Some would argue that you did, Mr Blythe."

Gilbert exhaled in frustration. "Professor, we have done everything you asked since that moment. We know that were in the wrong to get into that situation; we've never argued that despite the fact that it was completely innocent- we agreed to get married within one week just to please the faculty, however unreasonable it was of you to ask that- however much that hurt our families- all for the sake of our educations. We have worked to make sure that our grades have not suffered- and you know they haven't." There was a slight nod of acknowledgement, and for just a moment Gilbert let down his guard as he met Professor Hallett's gaze. "Sir, Anne and I live a modest and quiet life together as a married couple- you know you would have heard otherwise if we did anything else."

Professor Hallett steepled his fingers together noncommittally. "Perhaps."

"You cannot expect us to be responsible for gossip and hearsay; this-" Gilbert shook the paper- "isn't the truth. I think you know that of us by now. And you can't ask me to not attempt to protect my wife from this garbage."

The professor looked at Gilbert for a long time, weighing up his choices. The younger man's manner irritated him, in asserting their innocence needlessly. And yet he'd been checking with their teachers, who reported them doing well- quiet, restrained, albeit bettering their results somewhat. Sadly, there wasn't anyone on the student committee who would do a better job- he'd had less fuss since Gilbert had taken over the position. The coach of the football team would be livid if he removed his best player. Why make more work for himself?

"I won't ask for it- yet," Hallett said reluctantly. "You are a leader here at Redmond, and you need to expect that people will talk. I suggest that you learn to navigate it better." With a sigh he pushed back from the desk, indicating that he was done.

Gilbert eyed him boldly. "Sir, you do know who wrote this, don't you?"

The professor stood up slowly. "It's not your concern, Blythe. It's out there now, and it will be until it blows over. Anything you do to stop it will only make it last longer in the public eye- and you and your wife cannot afford to react." Hallett nodded just before Gilbert closed the door behind him.

He picked up the paper in one hand and rubbed his forehead tiredly.

He would have to have yet another talk with his daughter about using the paper for her own means.

Gilbert arrived home to see Anne taking something from the oven- how had she had the time to do that around her classes? She was focusing on the biscuits now, tapping them gently to see if they were done.

"Gil, you're letting the cold air in."

He shook himself, and pushed it closed, both of them wincing at the harsh sound. "I need to find a sunny day to fix that," he grumbled. "A day where I can take it off its hinges for a few hours."

Anne wiped her hands, reading the dough for another tray. "Well, that day is not today. It might need to wait until spring."

Gilbert 's heart sank. He'd expected her to be devastated- her calm could only mean that she hadn't yet read the article. As he hung his coat on the hook, he turned to see Anne standing behind him.

"What's wrong, Gil?" she asked quietly.

He gave her a smile that was forced. "You haven't read the Chronicle yet, have you?"

"Actually, I did."

Gilbert turned to her in surprise. "Then why- why aren't you-"

"More upset?" At his short nod, she sighed, pulling the tea towel off her shoulder. "Stella showed me it after class today. It's biting and clever, but it's also cowardly. After all, they used no names- and they didn't sign the piece. That is the definition of cowardice, in my opinion."

Gilbert sat down on the arm of the chair, despondent. "Hallett called me into his office about it." He was silent for a moment, before lightly thumping the old sofa with his fist. "We're doing everything we can to keep a low profile here- we hardly go out now unless it's for college. What more do they want from us?"

Anne gave a half-hearted smile. "For us to fail, Gil."

To her surprise, he shook his head, somewhat puzzled. "Anne, call me insane, but I actually don't think that's what Hallett wants."

Anne's eyebrow rose. "He certainly expects it."

"Maybe, but that's not the same thing. He gave us a chance, at least. He didn't ask for my resignation as the student body president today- although he expected me to give it."

"I hope you didn't."

"I did not."

Anne sat down on the other side of him, and Gilbert turned to her. "So why aren't you more upset?"

"I was," Anne said reluctantly. "Phil and the girls followed me into the dressing rooms to fish me out of my misery, so to speak. I cried- I was furious- and I missed my Philosophy lecture over it. However, I should have expected this." Anne's head fell back on the sofa, her grey eyes distant. "It's a nasty blow- but I have realised that they have deployed all their weapons in one. They insinuated a disgrace, questioned our quick marriage, and focused the school's attention on us- but what more can they say?" she asked unexpectedly. "There's nothing left, Gil. They will never be able to get this reaction from everyone again. People are fickle, and will grow bored when they see nothing else occurring."

"I wish I could believe that."

Anne's eyes softened. They were starting to make this marriage work- although the toll on them was very hard at times. The article had been scathing, and brushed with enough facts to sound convincing- and there could be no doubt that Anne and Gilbert were the intended targets. Phil had been livid and promised retribution to the paper, however, Anne was wiser- they needed to let it rest for now. Claire's gloating expression was evident as she passed her in the hallway that day too, although Anne would never give her the satisfaction of admitting that she knew it had been her work.

"Gil?"

He turned his drawn face to her, and after a moment of hesitation Anne rose to hug him, and he buried his curly head on her shoulder for long moments in the silence of the little house. He sighed as he wrapped his arms around her waist tightly, not caring how needy he was being- being in her arms was bliss. Eventually, Gilbert pulled away to half-heartedly grin at his wife. "Do we have to go back to college? Couldn't we just become shop owners somewhere? No one cares what they do."

Anne's peal of laughter made him smile. "Blythe Grocers, perhaps? Or we could take over the Blair's store at home, and traffic in butter and sugar and fabric for all of our days."

"Living above the store? Definitely. At least there would be no excuse for our accounts to be wrong." Gilbert laughed then, her cheerfulness working on him as did her embrace. "I know, I know. I'm just fed up with the gossip- and with doing things that we don't want to do to please people that we don't like."

Anne chuckled and gave him a long, candid look. "You and I are rebellious by nature, Gil. We'll survive this. Our future isn't limited to a store, I promise you that."

Gilbert's parents had sent word that they would need to defer their visit until March- something the young couple agreed was for the best. Anne's prediction proved correct- in a reasonably short space of time, the furore surrounding their relationship died down- not, however, without leaving behind scars. Anne and Gilbert said little about the article over the next few weeks and comported themselves with as much dignity at college as they could muster. There were comments and insinuations, outright sneers and impertinent questions from relative strangers. At college they were more guarded in the way they interacted with each other, anxious to not fuel the fire. Gilbert was faintly uneasy about this, however, he wasn't going to push Anne anymore than she already was- Stella had commented on her apparent calm in the face of the judgment, however, Gilbert knew better by now.

The spotlight turned from them when another scandal took centre stage in early February. The couple in question was asked to leave college in disgrace, and a distraught Anne went home to Gilbert, guilty that they themselves had seemed to escape so lightly. Gilbert was surprised that the girl who had stood so firmly in the face of the slanderous article was so shaken now, and it was his turn to try and comfort her. She wasn't sleeping well, he knew that much- many nights he had awoken to find her bed empty, and she was out before the fireplace, staring blankly into the flames. Several days later, Gilbert reluctantly told her that there had been some substance to the rumours this time- and nothing would save them from the consequences of that.

It was with an effort that Anne put the news behind her again, turning instead to work even harder on her coursework. Every now and then in the evenings, she would lift her head to see Gilbert working on the other side of the table, and she would wonder bleakly what their future would hold. Would they ever be free of their origins? Free to live, and be themselves again? The seemingly endless winter, endless expectations, and the feeling that there was always someone watching took its toll, and she found herself withdrawing from the girls, and even from Gilbert himself.

Gilbert felt the distance acutely, and it worried him- especially when the closeness Anne had at one point allowed began to grow less. He tried not to feel hurt, trying to understand that things were simply unsettled at the moment- however as the days crept on, he began to wonder just what he was supposed to do.

On a windy Thursday afternoon, Phil dropped into a seat at the library across from Gilbert at the library.

Gilbert barely looked up from his work. "You usually don't haunt this place," he commented, turning the page in his mathematics book.

Phil shrugged. "I had a free hour. I don't see why we should be given so much homework- you and I are already three chapters ahead."

"Our classmates aren't, though. Were you asked to tutor some of them as well?"

Phil shook her head, her brown eyes twinkling. "Certainly not. No teaching degree, remember?"

Gilbert snorted. "I assure you that classroom management skills don't apply to the McNeil twins. I'm earning every cent they pay me."

Phil sat back on her seat, watching Gilbert carefully. "How are things really going with you and Anne?"

He seemed to flinch slightly, and his eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"Because I care about you both," she said simply. "And it's been a rough winter for you both."

Gilbert placed his pencil down and faced her. "Now why would you say that?"

Phillipa Gordan was no novice in disarming defensive people, and she leant across the table, her manner deceptively gentle. "Gil, I'm not your enemy. I have no ulterior motive here. I'm sure it's hard for you to trust anyone but Anne right now- but for your own sakes, the two of you need to remember who your friends are."

He exhaled, folding his arms. "True. I'm sorry."

Phil's look turned pleading. "Gilbert, talk to me. You need help- I can see how tense the two of you are at college- and you haven't come around to Patty's Place in weeks. I watched the two of you say goodbye in the courtyard this morning, and it was like nothing had changed between you."

Gilbert bit back an exclamation, and he leant forward, his voice low. "That's because I've realised that nothing has really changed. I'm still the man she was not ready to court, let alone marry in a storm of controversy."

Phil sighed. "You avoided the storm, you goose."

"Not completely," he grumbled, pulling his book toward him.

Phil was not to be deterred and pushed it away again. "Gil, the two of you need us," she said bluntly. "I know you are making the best of the situation together, she tells me that you couldn't be more wonderful, and she's so grateful. But you need to stop isolating yourselves- and publicly you need to make a better show of it."

"We don't need a circus!"

Phil gave him an exasperated look. "Gil, you need to stop acting like you are guilty of something."

Gilbert rolled his eyes. "And how do you suggest we do that?" he asked curtly, before pausing. "She's so tense, lately- I don't know what else I can do." He sat back on his chair and sighed, exhausted. "Phil, did you know that I was going to propose to her last April?"

Phil's jaw dropped. "Gilbert, really?"

His grin was sardonic. "Really. What do you think her reaction would have been?"

Phil swallowed uncomfortably, suddenly remembering Anne sobbing on her bed only a few months ago. "I'm afraid- I think she might have said no."

Gilbert's look was tired. "Congratulations, Miss Gordon. I came to the same conclusion."

Phil shook herself. "Alright. But until that wretched newspaper article came out, the two of you were doing quite well."

"Yes. It felt- like it was real," he said dully. "I don't know how to reach her now- and she just keeps telling me that she's fine."

Phil sighed, her heart aching for the young couple. "Gilbert, it's a hard season- I understand that. But don't forget how far the two of you have come. And she is your wife, now. As such, you are at least courting now."

He couldn't help chuckling, ruffling his hair with a lean, brown hand. "You might say that."

Phil grabbed his arm then, after making sure no one could overhear them. "So court her properly. Don't you get it? She's already said yes. She needs to be romanced, and won- but you've already got over the hardest part because she's already with you."

For a moment hope flickered in his eyes, before he swallowed and spoke with painful honesty. "I don't want to just be the man she settled for."

Phil placed her hands on the table before her, looking at him fiercely. "You're not. Gil, she wasn't ready for all this- but she went into it because it was you. You know that. I think she's not ready to admit she has had feelings about you for a long time. Now, I won't say it will be easy to woo someone who is already married to you- but I think with Anne, you can consider it an advantage."

Gilbert frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean that for someone who is as obsessed with romance as she is, she is notoriously skittish about anything that approaches actual love."

"Phil, that's an awful thing to say!"

"It's the truth." She folded her arms on the table and met his eyes frankly. "Don't forget, I've been living with her for the past year and a half, Gil. She's tremendously open and confident- until she suddenly isn't. I've seen countless boys lose their heads over her. She's everything that is charming and witty, but she's never let anyone close enough to get to know her properly. That's on purpose, Gilbert."

Gilbert's jaw clenched. "Maybe she just never liked any of them."

"But she really did like you. And you got the same treatment. Now call me crazy, but I think that proves my point."

Gilbert sat in silence for a moment, his eyes hot with anger. "I think you forget that we grew up together. I know Anne Shirley better than you think I do."

Phil smiled sadly. "I haven't forgotten. But there's a part of her that she's not letting anyone near- and I don't know what it is, any better than you do." She sat back, and Gilbert was startled to see that her brown eyes were moist. "Let me help you, Gil. We need to protect the two of you from the public- to do that, you both need to behave like the married couple you are. You need to get out more- and start having some fun again." To his shock then, she reached around to pinch him then, her look cross. "And you need to stop trying to do this alone! Have us all around for your housewarming- and stop hiding at home. We can get you through this."

Gilbert was silent for a moment, and he ruffled his hair with a sigh. "We're grateful, you know."

Phil grinned, her brown eyes sparkling. "I do. Now- you need to do something for me."

Gilbert scowled at her. "You said there were no agendas."

"I'm sure I don't know what you are talking about," she said idly, before turning suddenly anxious eyes on him. "Invite Jo to come to your housewarming. He likes you, and he needs to get to know all of us- and seeing him only once a week is-"

Gilbert let out a shout of laughter. "Phil- I don't need to hear all of the details. Of course, he'll be invited."

Phil was smug. "Wonderful." She blinked as he began to pack up his belongings. "You're done now?"

"Not yet. I just want to get home to Anne."

That night, when the chores were done and the fire was banked high, Gilbert watched Anne pull her books from her satchel as per custom, and move them to the table. He stood by his own in indecision, until the thought of another evening spent studying made him move.

Anne looked up from her work. "What is it, Gil?"

He sat down opposite her, making her eyebrows rise. Usually, he took over Anne's desk, needing the space it offered. "I wondered if we could do something different tonight."

Anne laid down her pen, her grey eyes bleary. "Like what?"

Gilbert gave a wry grin. "Anything that doesn't involve schoolwork." She gave him a slight smile, and he shrugged, his hands deep in his pockets. "Do you know what I used to do for fun?"

"Torment those around you?"

He snorted, nevertheless glad to see the amusement in her eyes. "I just- we're doing this wrong," he admitted. "I used to work six days of the week on my classwork- I'd take a morning off for church on Sundays, and one night a week to come and see you."

Anne shot him a faintly bewildered glance. "You came to see everyone."

"No, it was you," he said bluntly, his hazel eyes twinkling. "Don't tell the other girls though- you know how jealous they get."

Anne rolled her eyes, folding her arms. "Well, you see me daily now."

"I know. And yet we're still not having any fun." As soon as he heard himself, Gilbert laughed and put up his hands in defense, seeing the anger building in her expression. "I didn't mean that, Anne; I meant that we used to work around the clock- except that when we were together, we would put work aside to do something fun. Like a walk in the park- or we'd go to something at the college, or stay in and talk. It's like we've forgotten how to do that."

Anne was fighting a war between despondency, hurt and outrage. Did he think that she was no fun, now that they were married?

"Now before you go and tell me that I think you are no fun now-" here Anne choked in indignation- "I think I ought to remind you that all work and no play is making us dull. I know it's been hard lately, but we're young- in fact, you're a mere infant, compared to me-" He dodged the kick she offered his ankle under the table and chuckled at her scowling face. "Anne-girl, we've fallen into a rut. We're both fighting to stay positive, and it's been hard- really hard." His voice softened, and he reached across the table to take her clenched hands. "It's been pointed out to me that we won't change opinions by working ourselves into the ground, or by isolating ourselves. We need to relax- and I thought we could start tonight. And we have a marriage to nurture, after all."

Anne couldn't help but soften, seeing his sincerity. "Phil tried to tell me so last week too."

Gilbert sat up, injured. "You mean she only came to me because you didn't listen? We could have had this discussion a week ago?"

Anne sighed. "I didn't know how, Gil. I just feel so guilty. We could have been that other couple. We could have had to give up college because we were foolish-"

"Anne, love, they got pregnant," Gilbert said flatly. "Now, I'm sure I'm as virile as any man, but basic biology states that just taking off my shirt and you colliding with my shoulder is not enough to impregnate you." He ignored her squeak of shock and continued gently. "We didn't do anything to feel this guilty about. And I'm sorry, but they did. You have to stop putting yourself in their place."

Anne looked up at him with eyes that reminded him of a bruised flower. "Can't you?" she asked him. "Can't you imagine what that would be like to become caught up in passion, and subsequently make a mistake like that? Are we so different?"

Gilbert moved around the table to kneel beside her, tugging at her hands until she turned to face him. "Of course I can imagine it. But it's not our life to live out. We're being smart about this-" he paused foolishly, and gave her a sheepish grin. "Well, maybe not then, but we're doing it now. We have to present a united front at college- but it's more than that. We need to get to know each other better- I want to court you properly, Anne. It'll do us good to take time away from our studies- remember how you used to pull me into the woods when we needed a break? That's what I want to do." He looked at the cluttered table then, and frowned. "Do you have anything due tomorrow?"

Anne smiled and shook her head. "What should we do?"

He grinned at her. "I'm thinking hot tea by a warm fire- and just talking. I miss talking to you."

Anne chuckled, watching him pile her books up untidily. "And I made an apple pie with some of your mother's preserves today- I think we have enough jars to last us at least until the summer."

Gilbert snorted. "Don't count on it. She's bringing more when she comes."

Throughout the evening, Anne's face brightened visibly. He made her chuckle with tales of Phil's arguments with the mathematics professor, including a stand-off with Daniels himself over a missing coefficient. She told him that she had inquired about an advertisement for an English tutor for two Freshman girls, suggesting that the extra money would be useful. Gilbert was encouraging, which allowed her to bring up a previous discussion about finding positions for the summer, after Fred and Diana's wedding. There were a few possibilities on the island, and they both agreed to keep looking for the time being.

Gilbert couldn't help but smile to see her looking animated again. So there was a time to help Anne to open up- although he had to admit that he wasn't sure why she had allowed him to push it this time. He'd learn, he supposed. Their talk ranged far and wide, and the air of tension that had rested on their home for weeks seemed to ease as they re-established the kindred between them. He watched the expressions move across her face, the firelight bringing glowing colour to her ivory skin. He followed the gestures of her pretty hands, reflecting dreamily that he often just watched them as she talked- graceful and elegant, and proudly bearing the rings he had given her. How had he ever become this lucky?

As the night closed in, Anne showed Gilbert Diana's latest letter, who told them that they had chosen another bridesmaid and groomsman at her mother's insistence. Mrs Barry had evidently not forgiven Anne for the wedding that had usurped her daughter's, however, Diana was equally as determined to not allow Anne to be kept away.

I will make sure that you are assisting me, my darling, and no one else- my bridesmaid will be one of mother's cousins, and she is such a whining, obnoxious thing- when we visited her in the holidays, she asked me to make sure that her dress would not clash with her complexion, as she wanted to maintain her good looks, even if she was supposed to be there to serve me. Have you ever heard anything so rude? She will be partnered by Moody- Fred wrote to him and asked him a few weeks ago. I believe he was quite chuffed to be asked to do it again.

When the old clock on the mantle struck eleven, and the couple were starting to think of their beds, Anne was still for a moment in indecision. Gilbert was lounging back on the rug comfortably, and she found her heart pounding oddly in her chest, wondering if now was the right time.

"Gilbert?"

"Mmm?"

Anne smoothed her skirts over her knees nervously and studied her stockinged feet. "I'm- I'm writing something."

Gilbert blinked at her. "Something for school?"

"No- it's not for anyone. Only- me."

He smiled, then. "That's wonderful, sweetheart."

Anne chuckled, her cheeks heating. "Oh, I don't know about that- and no one will want to make a baking powder advertisement out of it."

Gilbert sat up then, putting his arm around her shoulders. "Hey- as long as it's something that you love writing, it doesn't matter."

"I don't exactly love this," she said slowly. "It's- complicated."

He seemed flummoxed, and eventually nodded. "Alright. Do you want me to read it?"

She shook her head, her eyes lowered. "Not now. Maybe someday. I'm not telling anyone that I'm working on it- not even the girls, or Di. It's hardly something people will want to read. But it felt right to let you know that I'm trying."

Gilbert nodded and nudged her lightly. "I've sometimes wondered if you will write about all this one day." Her sudden laugh was enough to reassure him that she wasn't doing it yet, and he smiled. "Thank you for telling me." Her look was warm, and for the first time in a few weeks he bent down to lightly kiss her. "You'll tell me when you finish it?"

She nodded, her head resting on his broad shoulder for a moment. She couldn't help but smile, loving the familiarity of his scent. Somehow, against all odds, they were doing it.

Together.