SHE LIVES!
Reports of my death are wildly exaggerated, however, I want to thank you all who sent me beautiful messages to ask if I'm okay. Truthfully, I haven't been; however, things have taken a turn for the better now, health, emotional and family-wise. It was a number of things- we have four family birthdays in just over a month in my house, and I have been learning to get more sleep, after micro-sleeping in front of my laptop far too often. And at the top of the list was this mammoth of a chapter, which worked well in my head, and less so in actual word-typie things. Every message sent me back to the computer to try hammering it out, so thank you for your encouragement. Thank you all for following this journey with me- just thank you. Much love also to Carrots, who was cheering me on from the other side of the globe.
Love to you all, and after waiting a month I REALLY hope you like it...
Cate.
The first weeks of the senior year passed swiftly, and to Anne's surprise, it was the beginning of October before she had realised that September had ended. The tree outside the Mushroom cheerfully shed its leaves on the roof of the cottage, keeping Gilbert busy every afternoon in an effort to keep it clear. Several times Anne had been called out to hold the ladder steady for him, only to end up deluged in damp, colourful leaves- and it might have been suspected that Gilbert enjoyed himself thoroughly, as a change of pace from the busyness of classroom work.
Professor Daniels had been quick to lock Gilbert into a pattern of study above and beyond his regular work, and twice now he had visited the couple in their little home, to be met with a warm tea tray and the expanse of the kitchen table to work at; while Anne toiled away quietly at her desk in the corner, sheets of writing piling up under the desk in her neat hand. Red maple leaves adorned the picture frames and mantel now, and the gentleman congratulated the pair on their comfortable home- before sitting down to discuss the latest advances in chemistry with his favourite student over Marilla's plum tart.
Anne was relieved to see that Gilbert was thriving under the workload. He had his own work well in hand thanks to his work over the summer and had been engaged as a tutor to several of the younger students. These came around to the Mushroom to study on Wednesday evenings. Mrs Whitely had invited Anne to use her parlour to study in after observing the boisterousness of the group of young men in the small house- and after a fruitless attempt at reading in their bedroom on their first week, Anne accepted thankfully. She would meet the gentlemen at the door already holding her satchel, and Gilbert would kiss the top of her head as he saw her off, his eyes twinkling at her evident relief at escaping. It was a good thing, he thought privately- Johnston and Andrews both appeared to be struck dumb by his lovely wife, and he couldn't get a sensible word out of them while she was present.
He and Anne had sat down to work out their schedules in their first week back at home- and it became apparent that they would need to guard their time together carefully as the timetable grew. After some deliberation Gilbert had chosen to remain on the football team despite the extra time it consumed, reflecting that some extra physical activity might be a good distraction at the moment. He couldn't help but laugh at Anne's evident satisfaction at this decision- she had only stared at his biceps dreamily, saying that no doubt the extra exercise would be beneficial.
Anne's own work was absorbing, and she spent considerable time talking with Professor Winston about what she was aiming for in the coming year. She had chosen to not sign up for the debating club and several other committees, telling Gilbert that she had some other projects in the works- projects that could be accomplished before their own fireplace over the coming winter.
On this particular evening, supper was almost on the table. Gilbert would arrive home at any moment from a late class in the chemistry laboratory, usually hungry after a heavy day of classes. Anne looked around her little house in satisfaction. It was as immaculate as one would expect from someone raised by Marilla Cuthbert, and she had, at last, managed to catch up on her correspondence around her daily chores.
She herself had received an almost incoherent letter from Diana that day, confiding that it was possible that she was pregnant- of course, she should wait to talk about it until she was sure, however the letter had seemed to write itself, she declared brightly, gushing over the possibility of having her very own baby Anne by the next summer. Fred had apparently become a bundle of nerves overnight, it seemed, and was unable to look her father in the eye at Sunday dinner. Diana had only rolled her eyes, pointing out that her father had allowed her to marry him. Would he be so unreasonable if their own daughter was newly married? At this point Fred had needed to sit down, with a look of horror on his suddenly white face, presumably at the thought of having to safeguard a daughter from men just like himself.
Anne was almost giddy with excitement herself at the news. Diana had declared that of course Anne would be an honorary aunt, and that she must be home by the time the baby arrived. This made a more experienced Anne smile a little. Babies would come when they would come- she and Gilbert would be there in June, and no earlier. Nevertheless, she went about her work that afternoon with a little smile, certain unspoken dreams hovering about her as she worked.
When the door opened, at last, Anne made to greet Gilbert only to stop at the sight of the pile of paperwork precariously balancing in front of him, as he tried to close the door with his foot.
"What on earth is all this?" she exclaimed, quick to reach out to help him with his load.
Gilbert shrugged behind the pile, and leant down to kiss her. "Extra work. It's just as well. Clearly, I was growing bored."
Anne rolled her eyes at his dry tone, and placed the stack of papers down on the table. "This isn't even your own work," she commented, looking at the handwriting on the top sheet.
"It's not. It's for the Cooper." Anne looked at sea at this comment, and Gilbert turned to lean against the kitchen bench tiredly. "The Cooper Prize isn't just about marks- it's about education, primarily. The committee is concerned with education in general- it finances any of the post-graduate programs that Redmond offers."
Anne frowned at him. "Then why did I think it was only about medical school?"
"Because that was all I was considering, I suppose," Gilbert said absently.
She turned to him, a curious look on her face. "Was?"
"Oh- I meant is."
Anne nodded, before moving back to the oven to check on her pie. "That doesn't explain what looks like several classes worth of marking."
He grinned, taking the cloth from her shoulder to remove their dinner from the oven. "Trust another teacher to recognise it. But essentially, yes, that's what it is. All fourth-year candidates are given to a professor to work under. Professor Walker is mine- and he thought I might have some fun marking chemistry assignments. This is the first and second-year work."
Anne chuckled. "And the fact that you are a qualified teacher is proving useful too, isn't it? I should have thought Professor Daniels would request you."
"Oh, he wanted to- only it would be a conflict of interest, with him being the head of the committee," Gilbert said lazily. "I'm fine with that- I see him often enough as it is."
Anne smiled, moving to get plates from the cupboard. "He caught me at the end of class today. He asked me how I was finding my senior year."
"No more warnings?"
She laughed then. "No, we seem to have left that behind us- for now. I'm sure if he comes over here and sees you 'wasting your potential' doing menial chores with me, he will say something about it." The two of them had been working seamlessly at preparing for dinner, and at this Gilbert stopped to give her a hard kiss on the mouth.
"Let him say whatever he wants. We're a team, you and I."
The stillness in the air that night was unnerving, and Gilbert frowned slightly at the starless sky as he brought in firewood from the pile behind the house. Training that afternoon had been done with one eye on the dark clouds, and he had passed Mrs Whitley in the yard, carrying big baskets of not-quite-dry clothes away from the washing line. This winter was already going to be much better than the last- and that one had been exciting enough, he thought dryly, as he went through to the bedroom to get changed.
Anne had rearranged their room within days of arriving home. Her small bed had been moved into the corner, with the intention of turning it into a daybed- however in their busyness, as well as cushions and pillows it now held books and papers, and an assortment of discarded clothes. He crossed the room, pulling an old jumper from the end of his bed- their bed, he now corrected himself with a grin. Her pillow lay neatly beside his, her nightgown on the hook beside his pyjamas. At times he couldn't help but be overcome with sheer happiness at Anne's presence in his life- the last time he'd felt this euphoric, he'd waltzed her around the house without explanation before tumbling onto the sofa with her and proceeding to disturb her carefully pinned hair. It was all delightful, he realised, moving out to where Anne had their supper waiting.
Several hours later, Gilbert's marking was spread across the kitchen table, and Anne was curled up on the sofa with a notebook and the novel she was currently engrossed in. Every now and then Gilbert would look up from his work to smile at the picture she made- her glossy red head shining in the firelight, her grey eyes wide as they flew across the page. Gilbert threw his pen down then, watching the fire restlessly. He stretched his arms, trying to figure out how many more hours he would need to complete the work before him. Was he in need of a run or just a break for the night?
At that precise moment, a heavy crack of thunder broke overhead just as the clock struck nine; Anne let out a bloodcurdling shriek and leap approximately a foot off the sofa, as her book flew across the room and struck him squarely in the face.
At Gilbert's yelp Anne dissolved into helpless laughter, as she crept around the sofa to her husband, desperately trying to sober up as he lay his head on the table, clutching his head with a pitiful groan while the storm rumbled loudly above them.
"I'm so sorry, Gil, but the thunder, and the clock; and then they killed him," she said feebly, kneeling by his chair and trying to touch his face.
There was another muffled groan, and Gilbert lifted his head from his hand, one eye resolutely shut. "I thought we were beyond you breaking things over my head, Anne-girl."
She chuckled, wincing at the sound of the thunder still rolling overhead. "Here, stop being such a baby and let me look at it," she said, tender fingers sliding over his brow, smoothing the small lump the corner of the book had made. "It's just as well that I was only reading a little book this time."
He blinked, straightening up. "Now, who got killed? Apart from me?"
"Sir Danvers Carew was clubbed to death by a madman just as the storm broke. And I jumped," Anne protested, only to make him laugh again.
"Jekyll and Hyde? Anne, that book has been on our shelf for six months now! Why choose to read it tonight?"
Anne shrugged, leaning into his side. "Oh, Professor Winston recommended it to me the other day- we were discussing character flaws in stories- something about the damage we do when we choose to repress the baser sides of ourselves."
His pain forgotten, Gilbert gave an unseen grin, his arm around his wife. "I suppose so," was all he would trust himself to say. "Anyway, this storm won't let up anytime soon- and I'm going cross-eyed trying to interpret some of the youngsters' bad handwriting. I say we leave it for the night."
"Gil, those youngsters were us not two years ago. How can you be so patronising?"
At this, he snorted and fished a page out from the desk. "Easily, love. Take Jerry Rylan. He's seventeen. Does that not seem young to you?"
Anne shook her head, her eyes twinkling. "Had I accepted the Avery, I would have been here at sixteen and a half, remember. We didn't all have your venerable years-"
She was stopped by the strong arm that seized her waist, picking her up neatly to hold her in place on his lap, Gilbert's hazel eyes twinkling at her laughter. "Now hold on a minute, darling wife; I'm just twenty-four. Not eighty. And Jerry could have been either one of our students- he would have been twelve when we began teaching."
Anne shifted to get comfortable on his lap and picked up the paper, frowning at what was certainly a smudged mess. "Was he in a hurry when he did this, do you think?"
"I'm sure I don't know- but I'll get him in my study group next week. Loads of potential, apparently- but he struggles in the classroom. I'm supposed to see what I can do for him."
"Any more people and you'll need to hold it in a classroom, Gil."
Gilbert sighed, holding her tightly. "Do you really want me to be out another night of the week, Anne?"
Anne snuggled into his neck. "You know that I don't- however I don't know how many more people you can fit in our Mushroom. We're full to capacity."
He chuckled, taking great delight in holding her close and loving the way she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Certainly right now."
Gilbert closed his eyes as she pressed her lips to his own, still in faint disbelief at the way Anne shifted against him, the pink flush of excitement that spread so enticingly down her skin. He'd been so afraid that she would never feel for him the way he did for her- and as the storm rumbled overhead, her slender fingers tangled in his thick curls as she pulled herself even closer to him, her fingers loosening his already loose tie. Let the storm do what it would outside- he had all he needed right here.
"Now, you mentioned a three button-rule," he mumbled teasingly against the pulse that had quickened under seeking lips. "I'm curious. Do I get to decide which buttons?"
This made her laugh in earnest. "Gil! I merely said that it was Diana and Fred's rule for all of those years. Although she did indicate that the rule was more of a general guideline," she said, thoughtfully. "Somehow I don't believe that you and I would find it practical for very long. After all, we are already married."
Gilbert grinned. "Just as well. I doubt that I could even count to three right now." Anne squealed as he stood up with the intent to move them both to the much more comfortable sofa when a sudden pounding of footsteps was heard, and a thump on the door sounded. Anne and Gilbert looked at each other in consternation as he set her down, just as a familiar voice was heard over the rain.
"Anne, for heavens sakes, let us in!"
After a shocked moment, the door was flung open to reveal a sopping wet Stella and Phil, shivering on their doorstep in the darkness. Both Anne and Gilbert gaped foolishly for a moment, before leaping into action, taking coats and ushering the girls before the fireplace.
"We had a meeting with the reception committee," Stella explained with chattering teeth, accepting the cup of tea that Anne forced into her hands some minutes later. "Aunt Jimsie said that we would probably get caught in the rain, and she was right, as always-" Gilbert grinned when Phil scowled at that. "And she told us to come here if the storm got really bad-"
"As well you should," Anne said firmly, handing the girls each a towel. "Crossing the bridge in this weather is unthinkable. You'll stay the night here."
Phil sighed, dropping to the chair beside Stella. "Thank you, honey. We're sorry- it isn't as if you were expecting anyone on a night like this."
Gilbert shrugged easily. "What matters is that you're both safe. You know you'd do the same for us. We were done studying for the night in any case- and we'll look at some supper once you're dry."
Anne left the girls by the fire to have a quick conference with Gilbert in the tiny kitchen, as he pulled out some soup that Anne had made earlier.
"I'll sleep on the sofa tonight, you can stay with the girls in our room," he said in an undertone.
Anne chuckled. "Isn't that what we are supposed to do when we fight?"
"But without the fight."
She paused for a moment, and he smiled at the reluctance on her face. "I suppose that's logical."
"What else would you expect from me?" he teased. "Or should I just head over to the boardinghouse for the night?"
Anne pouted, as his arm came around her waist, after ascertaining that the girls were otherwise occupied. "No. I just thought that we said that we weren't going to sleep apart again."
"It's only one night, Anne-girl; and it's not like I'll be far away. You know you would have thought of it if I hadn't."
"Still," she mock-grumbled, pausing to chuckle at the smug look on his face.
Anne was soon ushering the girls into the bedroom to change in to dry clothing, pulling out her warmest nightgowns for the pair as they spoke about their harrowing walk through the park.
"We're lucky you live so close to the school- I shouldn't have liked to be out there for any longer tonight. It was like something out of your Haunted Wood, Anne- groaning trees, great cracking boughs, and the heavy pounding of the sea. If I had any more imagination I would have run through the woods screaming like a banshee," Stella said brightly. "As it was, even Phil got scared."
"I did not!" Phil said indignantly from behind the screen.
Anne chuckled at the image. "Your clothing should be dried by morning, I think- although you won't have the books you need for your classes. Is it worth going home in the morning first?"
Stella came out from the little annexe with her wet clothes in one hand, a thick flannel nightgown covering her head to foot.
"Probably not- but we'll manage. I always underestimate how tall you are, Anne," she grumbled, good-naturedly. "What must life be like from your exalted height?"
Phil snorted, coming to sit on the bed in the nightgown. "I know. Just a few more inches and we would be able to reach the place where Aunt Jimsie hides the sugar cookies. Prissy isn't always there to get them down for us."
Anne chuckled, hunting out a cardigan for each girl from her drawer. "You find ways around that, I'm sure." She started to move things off her old bed, not seeing the uncomfortable look between the girls.
Stella cleared her throat, only now noticing the way the bedroom was laid out, and that Anne was moving to change the sheets on the double bed. "Anne, we're both fine to sleep in the living room- we don't want you to rearrange everything for us for just one night."
Anne turned to them curiously. "It's no trouble. Gil will sleep on the sofa, and the three of us will be in here for the night. There are beds for three, after all."
Phil seemed to pale uncomfortably as she looked toward the double bed. "We don't want to kick Gil out of his own room, Anne."
Anne blinked at the pair, not used to seeing either of her friends so bashful. "He suggested it- and it's the easiest solution."
Stella folded her arms, her dark eyes uncertain. "Yes, but things are different, now. The two of you are really married."
"We've been married for almost a year," Anne reminded them logically.
Phil choked and gestured toward the bed, her cheeks now very pink. "Anne, you and Gil clearly share a bed, now. That's a fairly new development, isn't it?"
Anne turned to the pair, her eyes sparkling. "The two of you have been pushing me for the past year to accept the fact that Gilbert and I are married and utterly crazy about each other. Why should that make you uncomfortable now?"
"That's because you were running away from it, back then," Stella said crossly. "You got more embarrassed than we did. Things aren't the same now, are they? And we're actually staying in your home- and in your marriage bed!"
Anne couldn't help but laugh at her beloved friends. "And to think you wanted us both to live with you for the year," she teased. Her look was loving, then. "You're right- things have changed. But you are always welcome in our home- we would have been terribly cross to find that you'd tried to walk home in this weather."
"A married couple should have their privacy," Phil mumbled, looking in askance at the big bed. "I wasn't even allowed to go into my parents' bedroom as a child."
Even Stella looked mildly surprised by this, however, she shook her head, turning back to Anne. "We just don't want to disturb the two of you."
Anne gave the pair a firm look. "You aren't. You've been in this room before, you needn't be embarrassed now," she said calmly. She paused then, her cheeks pink. "Although if it makes you feel any better, we haven't exactly- we still haven't-"
Stella gaped at Anne. "But you share a bed!"
"Yes. We do. And it's lovely if I'm honest. However, we still have to finish college."
Phil exhaled, some of her humour returning. "Well, there is that."
Anne's shoulders lifted, smiling. "A year can change a lot of things. Come on, it's a rare night that we get to spend together, like this. Gilbert will almost be done with supper for us- he's really very good in the kitchen, now. I could only wish Prissy had come with you."
"Not this time, you don't- she's miserable at home with a head cold. Aunt Jimsie wouldn't let her come out tonight- and thank heavens for that. I'm not in the mood to see her develop pneumonia."
The girls followed Anne out the door, cardigans and shawls in place to find the table set simply, and a pot of tea waiting for Gilbert to return with the cups. Phil sighed in relief at the sight and fell into a seat, while Stella was handed the bread and butter.
The girls soon forgot their initial discomfort and while the rain fell overhead steadily, the four of them feasted around the table happily. Anne couldn't help smiling at the sight of Phil and Stella teasing Rusty with scraps of food, and pestering Gilbert for the latest information on the football team- Stella's question, naturally. After a custard pie that Anne had tucked in the back of the pantry, Phil insisted on reading the exam papers that Gilbert had been marking, pausing to laugh at odd answers and challenging him on the some of the marks he had given. The pair were just arguing over the need for the present chemistry syllabus to be updated when Stella moved to sit beside Anne on the sofa, snuggling under the afghan Mrs Lynde had made.
"I love what you and Gilbert have here, you know, honey," Stella commented dreamily. "It really does seem as if you've magicked this place into a home. I confess that we often bemoaned the thought of you having to be here without us."
Anne smiled. "I told you all that I was fine. The cottage was never the problem, really- we've loved it here, despite its many faults. It was only out there that things got difficult."
"Speaking of which, I heard from Tanner last week."
Anne had failed to see the connection of the last two statements and frowned. "Oh?"
Stella pulled the blanket around her morosely. "Father expects him back home as soon as his law degree is done."
"And he doesn't want to go?"
"No. Mount Herbert isn't large- they already have a solicitors office- and so he wants to go somewhere else. And not Charlottetown," she stated. "He wanted to know if I'd ever thought about moving somewhere other than the island after I finished at Redmond."
"O-oh. You mean he wants you to go with him?"
"Yes. He figured if we both went, our parents might be more understanding about it all- they've always complained that we aren't together since we have to be so far from home. He's thinking about Vancouver."
Anne looked at her curiously. "Stella, what do you want after you finish? Do you want to teach again?"
Stella sighed and leant her head against the sofa, listening to the fire crackle. "I want to use what I've learned. Somehow, somewhere- maybe teaching. I don't want to just pack away my schooling and have it lie idle while I listen to the gossip at the local sewing circle with my mother."
Anne smiled at her. "So your talk about 'delicious' men isn't because you are hankering to settle down with one of them yet."
Stella laughed. "Oh, not yet. Someday. When the right delicious one comes along, perhaps."
There was a short silence between the two friends, and Anne looked at her consideringly. "Vancouver is famous for its mountains, apparently. You could climb them."
"Or sit at the bottom and look up at them admiringly. If you want someone to climb with, you want Prissy. Would you and Gilbert come and see me? Around your ten children?"
"Ten?" Anne spluttered.
Stella gave the gentleman in question a quick look, his brown head thrown back in laughter at a comment from Phil. "With the way he looks at you, Anne, I'd be surprised if it was any less."
"You know, you are awfully bold for a girl who was squeamish about staying in our bedroom not an hour ago."
"Anne, it was a shock, that's all. You didn't tell us that things had progressed that far."
Anne smiled. "It wasn't consciously kept from you- although I was hardly going to bounce up to you at college and announce in front of everyone that Gilbert Blythe and I were sharing a bed."
Stella choked at this. "Good heavens, I hope not." She began to laugh at herself then. "I sometimes forget how far the two of you have come- I still remember your white face telling us that you either had to marry him, or leave college. And now, here you are, building a future and living happily in a cottage that should have been condemned years ago."
Anne's eyes flashed indignantly. "It may not have looked pretty, but you can't condemn something on looks alone. Leave our Mushroom alone."
Stella grinned at her. "I saw your face after you'd first seen this place, remember. Love must have stained the memory backwards."
Anne laughed at that. "Or paint, perhaps. We could be living in a boardinghouse, or a dingy apartment- and so we are very happy to be here, for now, at least. I should one day like to have another room though- storming out in an argument is not quite as satisfying when only one of you can do so effectively," she said meditatively. "However, for now, we are content. The house is quite cosy- although we'll see what you think after spending a night in the rather chilly bedroom."
"Because Patty's Place is so very warm," Stella teased, before laughing. "It's a Canadian winter, Anne. I expect no less- even from a magic mushroom. And I'm not sharing that bed with Phil, by the way- I'll take your old bed." At Anne's bemused expression, Stella rolled her eyes. "I had to sleep with her when Aunt Jimsie's cousin visited us last week- Prissy was sick, and we didn't want to move her, so our visitor took Phil's room. She kicks like a small child, and talks in her sleep."
At this, Anne choked in laughter. "She does, too! I'd forgotten about that."
Not long after this, Anne caught Phil yawning expansively, and stood to usher her guests to bed. She brought out both pyjamas and blankets from the wooden chest in the bedroom for Gilbert, who snatched her close to kiss the top of her head, before sending her off to the bedroom with a cheeky tap on her backside.
Stella had already crawled into the smaller bed, telling them that no one was allowed to wake her in the morning. By the time Anne had come from the annexe in her nightgown, she was snoring blissfully under the apple-leaf quilt, leaving a wide awake Phil next to Anne.
"I've hardly even talked to you tonight, Anne," an unusually morose Phil grumbled.
"That's because you and Gilbert were in fine fettle tonight. I assumed you were well occupied. I really don't know how you get anything done together in the classroom." Anne commented, as she climbed into Gilbert's side of the bed. "Was there anything especial you needed to talk to me about? I have some free time right now."
To her surprise Phil was silent, and Anne leant over to blow out the lamp, figuring that she mustn't be ready to talk yet. The rain had settled into a steady rhythm, and she could hear Gilbert talking to Rusty out in the kitchen. She was just settling down into his pillow when Phil spoke up vehemently.
"What is it about a man's pride that can't handle being challenged?"
Anne looked over at her friend, for a moment without words. For the life of her, she couldn't imagine who Phil was describing- although only one man had the ability to rattle her so.
"Phil, dear, I might need some more information-"
"You live with a man. You must have observed that they occasionally become caught up in their egos."
Anne blinked in confusion. "What man are you referring to?"
Phil turned to her in some anger. "Who else, Anne?"
"Jo?"
"Yes! My Jo!"
Anne pulled herself to sit against the bed head with a confused look. "Phil, perhaps if you explain, I could help you better. Of all of the vices in the world, I wouldn't normally attach pride to Jonas Blake," she said slowly. "What on earth happened?"
Phil gritted her teeth. "My parents want to buy us a house."
Anne frowned. "That's- lovely. Isn't it?"
"Apparently not, from Jo's perspective. And I don't understand why. They wrote me last week, and I was so excited to tell him about it. And he told me that he doesn't think we should accept." She folded her arms on her knees, her brown eyes stormy.
"Did he say why?"
"No! He just very gently said that it wasn't a good idea- and he asked if I would be willing to wait until he could provide me with a house."
Anne's heart ached for Phil's distress, and she turned to look at her friend in the dark room. "Do you think he was just surprised, Phil?"
Phil seemed to stop then, her eyes narrowing. "No. Jo considers things so carefully- he thought about this." She exhaled, raising her hands in exasperation. "I don't care about the house- however, it makes sense to me that my parents would want to do this. If it stops them from worrying about me marrying a lowly minister- mother's words, not mine- then why not appease them by accepting something that would ease the financial burden from us?"
Anne sat back with raised eyebrows. "Appeasing them?"
Phil rolled her eyes, slumping back on the pillow. "I have a way of handling my parents- something learned over twenty-one years. Mother and father are complete opposites and disagree on almost everything. They always have. When it comes to me, it's worse- and I usually bounce between the pair of them until they make up their mind, or I choose the lesser of two evils. Father suggested college, and mother was pressing to me to be married- so I came to college rather than get married. It was the lesser. Here, they want something together- and what would I know about houses? Jo is born to be a minister, Anne- his calling is to reach out to those who can't afford to give anything back. This would allow him to do so without worrying about putting a roof over our heads. From a purely monetary position, it makes sense. Why would it be so difficult to allow them to do this?"
Anne sighed. "I don't know, Phil."
"Well, what would Gilbert do?"
His wife blinked in surprise. "I hardly think we would ever be in that position, Phil."
"Wouldn't he see the common sense in this? Or would he be caught up in his male pride as well?"
"Phil, why didn't you ask him about it tonight?"
Phil's lovely face scowled. "Because he's Jo's friend, too. I'm not pulling him into this- however, I would have liked his perspective as an onlooker. No, I suppose we just need to sort this out for ourselves. After all, that's what you and Gilbert do."
Anne gave her a disbelieving look. "Phil, Gil and I have many different people speaking into our lives. You're one of them- as are the girls, Aunt Jimsie, Di, our families, even people like Miss Lavender. There isn't anything wrong with seeing other perspectives." Anne paused then, a slight smile on her face as she recalled the myriad of people offering advice over the past year. "However, in the end, it needs to be our decision alone. We are both too stubborn to allow anyone else to make it for us."
Phil sighed, looking up at the ceiling dully. "As am I, really. You know how I am about making decisions- I didn't expect his mind to be made up so easily on this subject- and I couldn't bear the thought of him saying no just to protect his ego. It's so unlike him."
"Maybe that's where you need to start. If he isn't usually prideful, perhaps it isn't about that at all. You might need him to explain his reasons before you can both come to an agreement about it. And you wouldn't want him to capitulate just to make you happy, would you?"
"I suppose I am supposed to say no to that," Phil said dryly. "Alright, no. I wouldn't." There was silence for a few minutes then before she blinked back a few tears. "Thank you, sweetie. I didn't want to talk to anyone at home about it. Aunt Jimsie and the girls still think that I am playing around with Jo- they would think it was me just being spoiled Phillipa Gordon again. They don't think I can be serious, even after all this time together."
Anne nudged her, a slight smile on her face. "That is only because you won't let them see the serious side of you. Maybe you should let that show a little more."
Phil chuckled. "I don't think just anyone can see it. It takes someone special."
"Like Jo."
"Just like Jo. And you." There was another short sigh, and then Phil rolled over drowsily. "I really don't know how you both do it, Anne. But you'd better let me sleep now- it really is poor form to keep your guests up talking half the night."
The pillow that hit her face seconds later made her laugh, however, Anne listened to Phil's entreaties and allowed her to drift off some minutes later, evidently more at peace. She tried to settle herself on the other side of the bed, however half an hour later after Phil's well-placed heel had bruised her kneecap, Anne climbed out of bed on silent feet to grab her dressing gown, and closed the door to the bedroom behind her softly.
Out in the dim lounge room, Anne had expected to find Gilbert asleep by now, however, he was lying back on the sofa. He didn't move immediately, and a big smile crossed his face at the sight of Anne dressed for bed. His hand was hanging down beside the chair, and Anne bit back a laugh at the sight of Rusty sitting on the rug purring, nuzzling into Gilbert's empty hand.
"I knew the two of you would eventually make friends," she teased, her voice quiet.
"I think he feels sorry for me tonight." Gilbert moved up then on the sofa, his hands reaching for hers to pull her down to him. With a sigh, she slipped down to lay beside him, and he came up on one elbow to look down at her, one red braid hanging off the edge of his makeshift bed. "You're not tired?"
Anne hummed contentedly, turning on her side to allow him to cuddle down behind her. "I might be, now," she said dreamily. "Stella is right- Phil kicks worse than Minnie May used to."
"Heaven help Jo, then," Gilbert commented wryly, suddenly feeling Anne grow still as he wrapped an arm around her waist. "Anne?"
"Gil, can I ask you for your perspective on something?"
"You don't need to ask, sweetheart."
"It's not for me."
Gilbert looked intrigued, and Anne quietly told him the situation Phil had mentioned. She turned in his arms to watch him, staring over her head to the fire thoughtfully. "Phil was curious about what you would do in that situation."
"Well, she's not marrying me," he responded logically. "My opinion is irrelevant."
"And yet that is the opinion that I asked you for."
Gilbert eyed her curiously and pushed back the silky curls that had escaped her nighttime braid. "Alright. If it were us- if we were in that situation- then I'd probably agree with Jo."
Anne shifted until her head lay on his shoulder, her brow furrowed. "Why?"
He hesitated over his answer, his chin resting on top of her head. "Because a house would obligate him to keep their daughter wherever her parents decide she should be, rather than where Jo and Phil decide they need to be with his new parish. Jo can't work in the slums of Patterson Street if he lives in a manor house in Bolingbroke."
"And what if the house was on Patterson Street?"
Gilbert chuckled. "You've met her parents, Anne, you tell me if that's likely."
Anne gazed up at him, deep in thought. "I- probably not." She huffed then, eying him mutinously. "Are you sure this isn't male pride talking?"
He raised an eyebrow at her and shrugged. "For me? I don't believe so. Come on, you asked me to put us in their place. Suppose Marilla bought the Lynde's old property for us."
Anne floundered a little. "That takes quite a stretch of the imagination, Gil."
"Fine, my parents helped her. Our parents all buy us a nice house in Avonlea, and expect us to live there now that we are married."
Anne sighed. "But if we stayed there, we would lose the chance to study, and your chance to do something bigger than becoming a small town teacher."
Gilbert scooped her into his arms, his look regretful. "Look, I'm not saying that we would refuse the house outright, sweetheart. I am saying that I think that our future needs to be our own, decided by us. It shouldn't be forced onto us by a gift that may one day feel as welcome as an albatross around our necks."
"And you think Jo might feel that way?"
Gilbert shrugged, his lean face calm. "That's my guess, Anne-girl. Jo needs to be where he can help the people he is called to. And he's not just a minister, he's a man. He'll worry that he can't keep Phil in the station she was born to."
"Gil, Phil isn't worried about that!"
"And yet Jo will be."
She scowled at him, albeit while she snuggled into his side. "Phil is right. Male pride is ridiculous."
"And you have none of that pride yourself," he teased her, leaning down to kiss the soft skin of her neck, smiling as she cupped his face in her hands to bring him back up to kiss her convincingly.
"You know, I really don't want to send you back to bed," he mumbled, some minutes later.
"What makes you think that I would go?"
Anne then made an indignant sound as Gilbert sat up, and Anne fell into the corner of the sofa unsteadily. He only grinned at her, shifting off the chair, and proceeding to pull the blankets and cushions off his makeshift bed.
"I was going to do this if I couldn't sleep in any case." Anne began to laugh at the bed he then made for them on the floor, before turning to her with a roguish look. "Your bed awaits, Mrs Blythe."
She slipped down by his side, her grey eyes on him earnestly for a moment. "The girls were a little shocked that we are sharing your bed, now."
"Shocking people appears to be what we do," he said, grinning. "Although it isn't so surprising, is it?"
"Apparently for two people who haven't slept together, yes," she muttered, her cheeks scarlet.
"That's just timing, love."
Anne sighed, silent for a minute. "Don't you ever grow impatient?"
He looked at her in disbelief. "Anne, you aren't seriously asking me that, are you?"
She gave him the stubborn look that he had long loved. "You always seem so calm about everything, Gil. Four years is a very long time."
"That's just using manners!" he said crossly. "The last thing you want is to be married to someone who lets you know that he is just impatient to jump into bed, Anne." His voice lowered, and he tugged her close to him so that she rested against his firm body. "You know me better than to think that I don't want you, though. You know how I want you."
Anne traced slender fingers along the buttons of his shirt, her lower lip tucked between her teeth. "You keep a distance between us in bed, Gil," she said quietly. "A distance I have noticed that you don't tend to keep anywhere else. That sofa, for instance-"
To her surprise, he laughed then, his own face heating. "You might have suspected that it would be on purpose, Anne. I hardly think mauling you in bed every night like I want to do would make us any more patient for the future. I suppose I figured that at least if we weren't actually in bed-"
Anne's laugh at this was in earnest. "That is disturbingly naive, dearest. How many children do you think have been conceived in places other than the bed?"
Gilbert shrugged sheepishly. "I thought it sensible." He tugged on the long braid beside him, his eyes tender. "When we do- I don't want it to be rushed- I don't want it to be because we just lost control. I want it to be in there, us giving ourselves to each other, the way a proper wedding night should be. And I want to see the wedding-night nightgown."
Anne chuckled, drawing him into her arms, a slender leg slipping between his own. "It really is more of a summertime gown, Gil. It isn't terribly substantial."
"Which is the point." He sighed then, his big hands smoothing over her soft belly in adoration. He looked at her then, his eyes wistful. "Could you wait for me for another four years?"
His breath caught in his throat as Anne sat up and she moved to lay on him before the fire, now able to feel every inch of his taut body. Her eyes were a brilliant green as she bent to kiss him, his arms coming up to hold her tightly. "I will wait any length of time for you, Gilbert Blythe. And you have already waited for me for so long. I am yours."
He pulled her down to kiss her again in the dim room, his chest ready to burst at her declaration, her soft murmur in his ear, and her body moving hauntingly against his. His eyes closed briefly as he felt her fingers working the buttons on his shirt, her sweet mouth twisted in mischief. With a little grin, he rolled her until she lay beneath him, pausing to watch the way her breath quickened in excitement. He grinned and kissed her swiftly as her fingers tangled once more in his brown curls.
"Anne-girl, you can have all the buttons you want."