Chapter 19

It was late on Monday night when Gilbert arrived home from a meeting with Professor Daniels, and he smiled to see a light in the window. Coming home was by far the most wonderful time of the day- instead of a cold boardinghouse room, there was a warm fire, warm bed and Anne; her beautiful red head bent over notebooks or her sewing.

The latter made him feel things that he couldn't quite process. She would tuck her feet up on the sofa with something little in her hands, the needle moving in and out while he read letters from home or excerpts from their textbooks aloud. In the evenings when their work was done it would come out, and he found himself watching her eyes bent over delicate work that he could never quite identify. He did his own work and moved about his chores too, occasionally feeling as if it must be a dream. He felt oddly as if they were living in a fairytale- after all, mushrooms didn't grow on city streets- and Anne had always been akin to the improbable. He'd laughed at himself for his whimsy- and yet at the sight of her working on web-like lace, the logical scholar would sink beneath the man in love, and he admitted that he would consent to follow his fairy anywhere.

He'd grown used to seeing Anne bent over the stove, or mixing something in the big bowl Marilla had insisted on sending with them. She looked as adorable as she had in the long ago days in Avonlea, when he would arrive at Green Gables to see her working with Marilla on preserves or baking, often teasing her about finding her domestic side when her studies palled. He was the same- she had tormented him mercilessly when she surprised him in the old overalls he used in the summertime. He flushed, as he looked for his keys amongst the assorted things in his pockets. The last time, he'd been forking hay in the barn for his father. She had stood in the doorway with her arms crossed, and bright, sparkling eyes, teasing him about giving up school for the farm. Her dress had been yellow, he remembered, and the fresh spring wind had loosened some of her curls- in the sunshine they shone like copper. He'd swallowed hard, fighting the urge to stop her smart mouth by kissing her until neither of them could breathe. His memories of studying afterwards were vague- he was sure that most of him had remained in that barn, lost in how much he wanted her, the way she looked in the dim light of the old barn.

Gilbert looked around for Anne now as he walked through their front door, noting that the bedroom door was ajar, and the fire had died down to the glow of the coals. He peeked into the bedroom to see her curled up on her side, her breathing slow and steady. He smiled as he looked down at her, one slender hand unfurled beside her flushed cheek, and gently reached down to touch the gold rings on her fourth finger. She stirred slightly and he bent down to kiss her forehead, grinning at the sleepy mumble she gave.

Having finished most of their work on the weekend, he and Anne had planned to attend a concert that night- until Professor Daniels had announced that the Cooper preparation must begin immediately. Anne had only smiled faintly and commented that she didn't mind- she was rather tired. Gilbert had looked at her oddly- she didn't quite seem herself, he thought. Mentally, his thoughts went to the calendar- but no, that wasn't due for another week or so. He grinned wickedly, remembering. She'd not been at all happy last month when he'd outright asked her after a particularly snippy comment- and he assumed that it annoyed her more because he was right.

Still, it kept life interesting.

As the clock in the sitting room chimed midnight, Gilbert undressed quietly in the bedroom. He stretched out on his bed in the darkness and let out a long sigh, his hands coming up to rub his face. He was exhausted- the team had been practising relentlessly for weeks for an upcoming game, and the various committees he was on had all insisted on meeting that week- Anne herself was preparing for a debate the following month. She'd not told him the topic she was arguing yet- which was slightly odd in itself. Professor Daniels announced that he would be meeting with him weekly, startling Gilbert with all that the prize entailed: he would sit extra exams, take part in specific charities- the Cooper family had been famous philanthropists, after all.

There was a growing unease in himself, regarding the prize. Had Anne really understand all that would be required of him in the coming year, if he was to qualify? He'd wrestled with it for weeks, before finally sitting her down on the sofa to talk to her seriously. She would be married to a student for four more years after all- he could work in the holidays, but not through the term. She would find it harder to get employment as a married woman, and schools may not look at her favourably. They would have to remain in the city…

She'd listened intently as he went on, her intelligent grey eyes fixed on him- and then proceeded to ask why he was concerned. He'd almost choked in indignation- after all, he'd just listed the reasons why- and he'd ended up laughing, as she had an answer for every problem he raised. Of course, then she'd got a roguish twinkle in her eye and called him Doctor Blythe- and only his determination to uphold his word kept him from bodily pressing her into the sofa, his mouth on hers and medical school a distant memory. Luckily, she was sweetly unconscious of his difficulties at that moment (oh, please God, let her be sweetly unconscious) and rose to get ready for bed, already pulling the pins from her long hair.

Was Gilbert coming to bed then?

Err- no, Gilbert thought he would stay up for a little while.

Gilbert awoke from a restless sleep suddenly, his eyes wide the darkness at an unexpected sound. He pulled back the covers, his heart hammering. It was late on Monday evening- it couldn't be a student from the boarding house outside again, sick after a night of drinking with friends- no, the sound was coming from inside the house.

"Anne?"

She wasn't in her bed- and from the closeted room beside their bedroom, he could hear a deep, retching sound. He stared in consternation at the door and crept toward it.

"Anne, honey?" He flinched at the sound of her vomiting, and warily tapped on the door. "Are you alright?" When there was no answer but more heaving, Gilbert turned the knob to open the door- only to have it quickly shut in his face.

"Er- alright then," he said to the door awkwardly. "I'll- just- wait till you're done."

He sat on her bed, his forehead creased at the sounds emanating from the room, and when the door opened cautiously long minutes later, he stood up, ignoring the faint glare she shot him as she leant against the door frame.

"Come on, back to bed," he said in an attempt to soothe her, guiding her by the elbows, almost smiling as she attempted to climb under her covers head first, curling into a ball on the bed. "I'll go deal with that, alright?"

He could hear her protest weakly, however, he ignored her. He'd cared for his father for years, and dealt with much worse, and stoically carried the pan out to the outhouse. By the time he made it inside the bedroom again she was near sleep, and he knelt beside her bed, his face worried.

"What happened? Was it dinner?"

A groan came from her pillows, and she shook her head. "It's been coming on all afternoon," she mumbled. "Stella and Phil were sick earlier in the week."

Gilbert rubbed his face tiredly. "Because that's all we need right now," he muttered, trying to make her more comfortable. "You'll have to stay home tomorrow, Anne-girl- you can't go to college like this." He got up and placed the pan beside her bed, handing her a glass of water to sip, and Anne lay back on her bed with her eyes tightly closed. Gilbert couldn't help but smile and smoothed the hair off her damp forehead. "Sleep it off, sweetheart."

It was the start of a long night. The clock had chimed three when Gilbert awoke for the fifth time, coming to hold her hair back again- although thankfully, there was nothing in her stomach to come up anymore. The dry heaving was especially hard to witness, and he smoothed his hand over her back comfortingly. The pan had stayed empty this time, and Gilbert was surprised when she dropped her head onto his shoulder with a small shudder. He smiled, his arm around her. Her comments had been caustic between bouts- the sleep that eluded her was broken every twenty minutes, and once he had needed to help her change her nightgown- something a growling Anne was not happy about. He had tried to point out that her shift and bloomers covered most of her, only to have her scarlet in the face, and refuse to speak to him afterwards- only to apologise weakly when it began all over again.

By early dawn, Anne was spent- and when Gilbert left her for school, he had refilled the jug of water beside the bed, and made her a weak cup of tea that hopefully she would keep down. She waved him off with a bleary look in her eyes, and he promised that he would speak with Professor Winston about her work before he came home.

Anne awoke from her sleep early in the afternoon. Blinking grey eyes in the dim bedroom she pushed herself up with a groan, feeling the muscles she had strained in the night acutely. After a quick visit to the outhouse, she set the kettle on the stove, slumping onto the kitchen chair as she waited for it to boil. She could see the plate Gilbert had left from his breakfast that morning, and blushed slightly at the way he had assisted her through the night. Once again she reflected that he would make a marvellous doctor someday- calm and matter-of-fact, and every inch the gentleman his mother had raised him to be. She looked down at the light nightgown he had found in her drawer, wincing at the threadbare fabric. Heavens, why hadn't she noticed that it was becoming so transparent? It was hardly fit to be worn now. Phil was right- her nightwear should be the next thing she looked at. She shuffled around the living room picking up the books she had left out the night before, turning at the sound of the key in the lock.

"Gil?"

He eased himself through the door with his books, happy to see her up and about again. He handed her a small spray of wildflowers and smiled at the sparkle that leapt into her eyes at the pretty blooms. "I thought these might make you feel better. How are you feeling now?"

Anne chuckled dryly, moving to put them in water. "Empty- and not at all inclined to fill myself back up again."

Gilbert smiled. "You'll want to eat soon, I hope. There were a lot of people off sick today- it must be going around."

She shuddered, coming to sit a standstill. "I should have realised, Gil. The girls and I usually all get sick together- just like families do."

He smiled, taking his books to the desk in the corner. "And now it's just you and me." He straightened up, his look of horror comical. "You and me, Anne-" Anne nodded tiredly, falling onto the sofa, and Gilbert chuckled to see her feet still bare. He took a blanket from the top of the chair and tucked it around her. "Oh well; if I'm going to get it, I will. There's no point worrying about it now."

Anne smiled slightly, snuggling into the cushion unconsciously. "Just be sure to be at home if you do."

He bent down to kiss her cheek and moved to stoke the fire again.

It was, however, two days later when he was sitting in a Biology class when he first felt queasy stirrings inside. He brushed it off, frowning. He was fine- utterly fine. At least a quarter of the class was absent that day- since Anne had been ill, the epidemic had seemed to run through the college and its staff. As a young Scottish fellow had been heard to say, the sick stomach was nae deadly, but it did rather take the ginger out of one.*

For long minutes the sound of the professor's voice droned in the background, and by now Gilbert was feeling too miserable to even try to listen. Anne had only missed the one day, and he found himself sickly wondering just where she was at that moment- was it English, or Classics now? His mind wandered through what he remembered her saying at breakfast- and with that, the wave of nausea struck just as he was called on by the professor.

"Mr Blythe?"

Gilbert drew in a deep breath that he instantly regretted, his skin pale. "I'm sorry sir, I-" He gulped then, rising from his seat. "Sir, I need to go."

In the distance, he heard a sigh, and a faint- "Good grief, another one. Blythe, go to the infirmary on your way out."

The fresh air outside cleared his head for an instant, and so, of course, he didn't go to the infirmary. He paused at the entrance to the main halls trying to remember again where Anne was- until he heard the old bell on the tower, and people began to stream out into the courtyard. Through a sea of people, he stood stupidly in the centre, his head turning this way and that looking for her red head. Eventually, he heard her voice behind him.

"Gil? Shouldn't you be heading to chemistry?"

He wanted to say hello- he wanted to tell her that he was heading home- however, he had enough sense to know that it was a bad idea to open his mouth at that moment. Fortunately, Anne was quicker than he to recognise the problem, and her face fell.

"Oh, Gil. Not here."

Gilbert glared. "I didn't chose 'here' for fun," he grumbled, making her laugh. Compassion was quick to follow, and she tucked her arm through his, turning him toward their home.

"Come on, Gilbert. I know something that might help."

To Anne's relief, they had been home for twenty minutes before he became ill- and she sighed comically, hearing the horrendous noises coming from the little outhouse. What was it Mrs Lynde had always said? A man could never be sick in a quiet fashion- no, the whole countryside had to know about his misery. Anne stood at the kitchen bench compounding ginger with the mint that grew thickly behind the house. She looked up as the door opened, and her rather seedy looking husband entered, walking straight to the bedroom to flop on his bed, his jacket shed untidily on the floor. Anne followed him in, her eyes twinkling, even as she tried to be sympathetic.

"Gil, you knew that this was going around-"

There was a groan that came from the depths of his mattress then, and Anne bit her lip to stop herself from laughing. He'd never handled being ill well- back in their first winter of teaching he'd come down with influenza. When Anne learned that his mother wouldn't let him return to White Sands until he was well, she'd gone to see him after school to find a thoroughly grumpy young man being force-fed soup and tea. She'd only stopped laughing once she'd seen the real frustration in his hazel eyes, and agreed to read to him the textbook they were currently working through. Anne's eyes softened. She'd not gotten close enough to touch him then- but she remembered that he'd managed to sleep peacefully with her there.

Now, she sat by him on the bed, her look indulgent. She let her hand rest on his brown, curly head for a moment, freezing as he shifted so that his head now lay in her lap.

"Are you quite comfortable there, Mr Blythe?" she asked dryly, her cheeks flaming when he nodded against her thigh. "Well- alright, then. Time for bed."

"I'm fine right here."

Anne rolled her eyes. "Yes, I'm sure you are- but you still need to get undressed." She could almost feel the smug grin on his face, and bent down to meet his amused look. "Behave yourself, Gil, or you're on your own this afternoon." Her eyes softened at his sheepish smile, and she stood up slowly, giving him time to move. "I'll just get some pajamas for you."

He pushed himself upright on the bed, and rubbed his stubbly jaw. "Sorry, Anne. I know you should have been in English now."

She shrugged, opening his drawer. "We were working on a writing assignment today- one I have already spoken to Professor Winston about. I'll just work on it here."

He stood upright slowly. "I just wanted to tell you I was going home- it hit quite suddenly."

Anne turned to pull his covers back then, her look kind. "It's the nature of the beast, I suppose- my history class was down in number today. Do you suppose anyone is seriously ill?"

Gilbert sighed. "Probably not- unless there's a predisposition to illness." He stood still, his brow furrowed. "I'd love to work out how it spreads so quickly."

Anne chuckled. "Ever the scientist, I see. There will be time enough for that later- and you'd better hope that round two isn't on its way. For now, trust me, it's best to sleep."

After some good natured grumbling and a brief, revolting second episode, Gilbert was tucked up in his bed for the afternoon, and managed to sleep the afternoon away. Anne puttered around the house getting odd jobs done and checking on Gilbert from time to time. She'd spent her formative years caring for others, and then Marilla had needed care from time to time with her headaches- and oddly enough, it was Jo's words that kept coming to mind. Choosing love, choosing to take care of each other. Was it perhaps a better way to love than the heady sense of attraction that the poets celebrated? Or was it somehow all the same? Anne had wrestled with that in the beginning- to tell the truth, she was no more sure of her position on the matter now. Of course, she simply was in this place where Gilbert Blythe was her husband- and so it wasn't really a struggle. It only remained to choose.

When there was nothing more to be done, Anne dressed for bed and was surprised to hear his voice just as she went to climb between her sheets.

"Anne?"

"Did you need something, Gil?"

"I can't sleeeep."

This plaintive statement made her laugh, and she climbed out of bed to cross to his side.

"Gilbert, you are worse than Davy when he's ill!" she scolded quietly. She bent over to check his forehead, pleased to see that he was neither clammy nor overheated. "It seems to be over for now- just lie down and close your eyes."

"But I'm not tired now."

Anne chuckled. "So inside the body of the man, is the little boy whose mother spoiled him rotten when he was ill?"

"You'd take jabs at a man when he's down?" he grumbled, his eyes nevertheless oddly hopeful.

"Not so very far down- and your mother told me that she spoiled you long ago," his amused wife added.

He grabbed the hand that was on his shoulder. "Sit with me," he cajoled. "You could read me The Dependence Between the Properties of the Atomic Weights of the Elements. Gripping story."

Anne chuckled. "As fascinating as that sounds, I will decline."

Gilbert pouted, making Anne smile, unsure why she was still humoring him. "Just- just sit next to me."

Anne hesitated. She'd sat on his bed enough times, sometimes next to him- and yet this was yet another boundary line to be crossed. Of course, a sick stomach was hardly what could be termed a romantic illness. She moved round to the other side of the bed, and climbed up next to him, sitting up against the headboard. Her eyes suddenly twinkled. "What now, then?"

He lay back on his pillows, tracing the lines of her long nightgown with a smile. This was the one with the pink ribbon- and the pretty frills on her sleeves. He liked that one. "What do we do afterward?" he asked suddenly.

"Didn't I just ask you that?"

"No- I mean after college- after all this," he said, waving his hand around vaguely. "We've only ever talked about Redmond, never after. It's a bit short sighted of us."

Anne frowned. "I think we've got plenty to be going on with, Gil. And we don't know enough to discuss it. Anything could happen, couldn't it?"

He made a noncommittal noise, and was silent for a moment. "So what do you want one day? Diamond sunbursts and marble halls?"

Anne laughed, beginning to relax. "Once upon a time, I might have said yes." She looked around the dark little bedroom, her lamp still burning next to her bed under the window. "I think our Mushroom has changed my mind."

Gilbert glared at her. "If you think this is the best we are ever going to do in our lives-"

Anne swatted him. "I don't mean that, Gil. I think that we would make the best of any house we live in, wouldn't we? We would fix up one that was run down, and we would grow to love it."

Gilbert sighed. "You're right- but I promise that I'm going to do better for us than this."

"I don't doubt that." There was silence for a time, until Anne spoke again, "You once said that you didn't want children."

He sat up then, indignant. "I wasn't being serious, you know that! I've always wanted children- I only said that after a bad week at school."

She chuckled, pulling her hair out of her braid to redo it. "I remember. A broken arm- and a paste explosion?"

Gilbert snorted, settling back. "And a visit from a police man about one of my troublemakers. Three sticky children sent home to irate parents- and I was accused of teaching heresy by another. All in one week."

Anne giggled, dropping the strand she was working on. "I'd quite forgotten that part. Ptolemy's theory of moving bodies, wasn't it?"

He rolled onto his side to watch her hands move through the thick, red curls. "It's nothing Galileo didn't experience. At least the school board was in my corner for that one."

Anne's cheeks heated, aware that they were dodging the issue- and yet they had to start somewhere. Why hadn't they discussed this before?

"Do you want children?"

"Of course," he answered immediately, his look suddenly wistful. "I want- that is, I'd like- a full house. Where no one is ever alone- not like you and I were."

Anne paled. She'd not exactly been alone- except in families that weren't her own. "True."

He sighed, falling back to look at the dark ceiling. "I want the boys to have sisters, so that they grow up having compassion and understanding for women-"

"Not like you, then," Anne said slyly, before jumping at the pinch he cheekily gave her.

"And I want the girls to have brothers who will protect them." He seemed to struggle then, his face shadowed. "You should have had an older brother who flattened me for teasing you."

Anne smiled retrospectively. "I can handle myself, as you well know. However- it would have been- nice- to have that too."

Gilbert sighed in contentment, this time. "And what about you?"

In the dim light, he saw her smile, her look distant. "I love babies. There were four born at the Hammond's while I was there. I loved seeing them grow- watching them change-" her voice faltered then, remembering that when the children were older they began to treat her as their parents did. "I want our children to be safe," she said softly. "Safe, and loved, and protected-"

Gilbert grabbed her hand, sitting up so that he could meet her grey eyes squarely. There was a look deep in their depths that he could only guess at, and his voice was low. "They will be, Anne; I swear to you that they'll be loved and safe."

He watched her swallow, and force a smile. Some veil seemed to fall, and he braced himself for the change in her demeanor.

"Of course. So- children, certainly. We'll need a big house, then."

Gilbert nodded. "Of course. And a fence- I used to run away a lot when I was small."

Anne shrugged, thinking of chubby knees and dimpled cheeks with a little smile. "I'm not worried- both of us are quite fast. You will work in a career that you love- and I suppose that one day I would like to write," she said slowly. "Properly, I mean." She turned to him them with a fierce look, ready to lecture, when he grinned and grabbed her pointed index finger to kiss it, rendering her silent.

"I won't mention baking powder, sweetheart; I know the rules. Just know that I'm proud of you." He was tiring now, and rested back against his pillow again. "We could live anywhere we wanted to, afterward."

Anne looked down at where he still had a hold of her finger, her look curious. "Did you want to go back to Avonlea?"

He frowned. "I suppose it all depends on what I end up doing. Whether or not I get the scholarship, or if we take it; what you decide to do with work while I'm studying, whether there is a vacancy there for me to fill some day-"

Anne sighed. "I suppose that is the part of the future that we can't control."

There was silence for a short time, and Anne wasn't surprised to look down and see that he was almost asleep beside her. She watched him for a moment, brushing one of his brown curls from his face gently, a small smile on her face. She leant over to kiss his forehead, and climbed off his bed to walk around to her own.

"Anne?" she heard, just as she got under her covers. "Thank you."

Her voice was soft. "You're welcome, Gil."

By the first week of April, spring was definitely in the air, and the student population returned to normal health. Anne was startled to realise that she and Gilbert had been already been married for five months now. So far their studies were progressing well- and even Professor Hallett had nothing to say to the couple when he observed them going about their business. Anne still missed the merriment of Patty's Place, and was pleased to be able to return there from time to time to see the girls outside of college hours.

On this morning she had walked through the park that separated the centre of Kingsport from the harbour, glorying in the sunshine after the long winter. When she arrived at Patty's Place her hands were full of mayflowers, and she found herself pulled into Stella's arms with a happy shout when she knocked at the front door with her overnight bag.

"Anne! We were just saying that it was the perfect weekend for you to come."

Anne beamed, shedding her coat quickly. "It is! I didn't think I could spend the weekend in my dark house with Gilbert away- not in this weather."

Stella pulled her in through the door, her black eyes twinkling. "And where is he, this weekend?"

Everyone smiled, watching Anne fall into her favourite chair with a sigh. "The Redmond team is playing another college- Dartmouth, I believe."

Phil smirked. "And you didn't want to go along to make sure that he doesn't get knocked out again?"

"No, I am afraid that I have to trust him to keep safe on his own- the boys are staying at the other college overnight, I think. He told me that we weren't allowed to get up to any mischief without him."

Priscilla snorted, slinging herself on the sofa near Anne. "As if we would wait! Anne, we're putting you in the blue room tonight, although we have no intention of letting you go to bed early- it's been too long since we had the chance to catch up properly."

Exams were due to begin the following week, and so the day was spent working outside in the sunshine, with Aunt Jamesina bringing out cookies and pastries, pausing to sit with the girls and catch up on their news. The girls had received Miss Patty's assurances that they could remain in the house for another year, and on the weekend before, Jonas had proposed to Phil. Phil herself was deliriously happy, proudly wearing the ring that had been his mother's, and Anne couldn't help but beam, remembering Jo's unexplained visit to see Gilbert only the week before. She had taken herself to visit Mrs Whitley for tea, sensing that she was not required for that conversation. Now, here was the end result- and Phil and her Jo were blissfully content.

Late that night all books had been packed away, and Aunt Jimsie sternly warned the girls that they should be heading for bed now. Anne smiled, knowing that they wouldn't be asleep for some time yet. The four girls gathered in Stella's room, the largest of the bedrooms upstairs, and all sat cross legged on the old fashioned bed built by Preston Spofford many years ago. Phil tossed Anne a shawl and snuggled down amongst the pillows.

"Do you wish you were at home right now, Mrs Blythe?"

Anne's eyes twinkled. "Not alone, certainly. You've no idea how silent a house can be when no one else is there- and Rusty isn't nearly so loud."

"You miss Gilbert," Stella said smugly.

Anne chuckled, her cheeks pink. "We spend almost every moment together. Of course, I do."

"And you like living with him?"

The redhead turned twinkling grey eyes to Priscilla. "He doesn't borrow my clothes, at least." At their entreaties to be serious, Anne sighed. "It's a little frightening to realise how easy it is. I couldn't imagine living anywhere else, now."

Phil pouted. "Not even with us?" She grinned as a frilly cushion hit her in the face, and sat up. "I've never seen Gilbert look this happy before."

Stella shot Anne a curious look, seeing the shadow that crossed over it. "Anne?"

Her brow lowered, and she played with her wedding rings thoughtfully. "I- it's fine. Better than fine," she amended hastily, tucking red curls behind her ear. "I keep asking myself where we would be if we hadn't done it," she said softly.

Phil shot an alarmed look at the girls then. "You don't mean-"

"Oh, not that I would change it," she hastily added, her cheeks suddenly hot. "I wouldn't. I just wonder if it's what he expected it would be."

Priscilla gave Anne's knee a pat. "Don't be an idiot, honey- Gilbert looks revoltingly happy, well fed, and he's bursting with pride over you. I don't understand why you aren't doing the same over him."

Anne's head snapped up in shock. "I am very proud of him!"

Prissy put on her most wheedling look. "Anne, no one would blame you for being just a little bit smug- especially to all those girls who had such a field day over the gossip about the two of you."

"No, I won't play those games," Anne said, shaking her head. "If Gilbert is happy-"

"Do you ever tell him how happy you are?" Phil asked, a slight smile on her face. "He'd love to hear that. Or at the very least how in love with him you are."

Anne paled, feeling exposed. "He's- he's not expecting to hear that from me yet," Anne stuttered. "We said we'd give it time- we- he promised that we would give it time-"

Stella shuffled over to take Anne's hand, her look gentle. "Breathe, sweetie- it's not him asking, it's us. We just want to know how everything is going. But out of curiosity, why does the idea frighten you so?"

Anne breathed deeply, pulling her green dressing gown around her. "We're- doing so well," she whispered, the vulnerability in her eyes making Phil's eyes tear up a little. "I'm just not ready to change things so drastically. I can't imagine a better house mate- or a better friend- and I can't imagine caring for anyone more. But what if being in love isn't everything I dreamed it would be? What if it's not enough?"

Phil's eyes softened, thinking of the look on Jo's face when she told him that she loved him. Gilbert deserved for Anne to feel sure too. "Anne, it won't let you down. It won't be a fairytale. It'll be real, and messy. But you're going to fall in love with him- and trust me, you won't regret it a bit."

Anne gave her a faint glare. "I don't typically do things just because people tell me that I have to."

To this, Phil began to laugh. "Of course you don't, sweetie. Just remember to tell us how everything is progressing, won't you? Even if it is at a glacial pace."

Suddenly a naughty twinkle came into Anne's grey eyes at Phil's complacency. "I suppose then I should tell you that I ended up in Gilbert's bed the other night?"

Anne smiled angelically as Stella shrieked and tumbled off the bed in shock, Phil gaped in unladylike surprise, and the hapless Priscilla dissolved into fits of laughter.

Sometimes it was nice to be able to shock the girls who loved to unsettle her.

Late that night, when Anne settled into her bed in her old blue room, she had a slight smile on her face. Five months had evidently made a good deal of difference. The bed wasn't quite right for her anymore, the light walls reflected the moonlight so brightly- and more importantly, there was no answering breath on the other side of the bedroom. She chuckled, seeing how thoroughly her life with Gilbert replaced her old one. Where was he right now? A train ride away, asleep in a dormitory, with snorers all around him- or so he had suggested when he left her that morning.

Anne rolled onto her side, her face flushing. Gilbert had said goodbye to her when the sun was barely up, his bag slung over one shoulder, and his tie knotted loosely on his neck. She'd straightened it for him then and teased him about enjoying the bachelor life- and been surprised mid-sentence when he pressed her against their front door, his warm lips on hers and his big hand holding her waist to him possessively. He'd pulled back with a heat in his hazel eyes, and grinned at her.

"I'll be home tomorrow, love."

Anne lay still in the darkness now, her cheeks hot. It was a word she'd been quite cagey about, lately. They hadn't begun their marriage with that in their sights- well, she hadn't, and yet she felt that it was always the elephant in the room. So much pressure, so much leeway to fail- and yet when Gilbert called her that as he did so often lately, the independent girl she had always been seemed to mock this new, far more unsure Anne. She closed her eyes, sighing and allowing her body to relax into the unfamiliar mattress, somehow missing the dark bedroom she and Gilbert had shared for the past five months.

They would find a way through together, they always did. But deep inside her right now, along with a flutter that wouldn't go away, there was one plea in her heart.

She needed time.

*Emily Climbs, L.M. Montgomery