The characters are created by LM Montgomery, and are her property... the original characters & storyline are unique to this story are copyright 2021, by Nell Lime.
Kushinka - Yes.. Davy is a defender :) And yes it'll be a storm once Gilbert recovers and I'm working on that reveal right now… so something to look forward to… Lets just say someone who makes an appearance in this chapter will be in a vengeance for that chapter.
— Anne —
Monday, June 27th, 2:00am
Apple Bough, Avonlea, PEI
I'd never slept long, either in the chair beside Gilbert's bed, his bed in his room upstairs, or from time to time, in exhaustion between the alarm that would be set each time we'd need to wake him and feed him, I'd fall asleep holding him in the bed. That I'd only dare do in the middle of the night especially after the Blythes and Davy came home from church to find me asleep sitting on the bed, propping him up. The bowl of broth threatening to spill it's remaining contents, as he slept cradled between my legs in front of me. Not only were my stockings showing but it was quite an indecent position to be found in!
Sunday night had been quite embarrassing, I'd hurried down earlier hearing him crying from a nightmare, with a bewildered Davy tending him. I'd grabbed my clothes for the next day, determined that when Mrs. Lynde found me I would not be improperly dressed in Gilbert's sick room. So I'd sent Davy upstairs to bed, and my bladder full, for I'd rushed down before I could tend any of my toilet I first soothed Gilbert, getting him back into a deep sleep pounding my dancing toe hanging over the edge of the bed into the floor. He lost the little contents of his stomach onto my night gown, the smell making myself nauseous.
Finally he was asleep, and not being able to take the smell any longer I removed the night gown, and in my undergarments rushed to the chamber pot. I'd not bothered to remove my corset in exhaustion the night before, and of course sitting there with my knees exposed, the hem of my drawers in plain sight, he woke up again blinked at me. There really was only two outcomes. Never see him again or be his wife because the mortification was just too extreme. "Anne…"
"One minute." I spoke, glad for the modesty provided as I sat from my split drawers, a necessity when wearing a corset. I'd heard Phil mention she'd met a woman once, a suffraget who wore no corset and drawers sewn up the middle. Quite scandalous she'd said, and imagine trying to relieve yourself. Of course the other side affect of the split drawers came immediately to mind and I flushed even more with Gilbert staring at me as I sat on the chamber pot. Upstairs, now buried in the bottom of my trunk were the drawers I'd worn that first night, now stained, and in need of mending.
I forced my mind instead to something else, anything else! Davy's black eye. I really did need to talk to him, that fighting wasn't the answer. Of course Gilbert watched me as I cleaned myself up, and doing my best to act as though I walked around his room in my corset daily. This was a month of Jonah days. I'd make sure he thought I was just one of his dreams, his Anne Blythe.
"Go back to sleep Gil…" I speak soothingly and lean over him. Thankfully he does. And as soon as his eyes are closed I'm dressing quickly in my petticoats and dress and a clean apron, and within five minutes I hope I'm sitting again on the chair next to his head, grabbing a damp cloth in the bin of alcohol water that Dr. Spenser has us use constantly to clean him with and begin to bathe his neck and shoulders.
To be his wife... oh I don't know if I could do that. Were this only a dream and we'd wake up to find him well, and chums again. But now? Perhaps its best not to think of the future until he recovers. He reaches less now for the photo, instead it seems he reaches for me, and I find my hand clasped in his before I know it again.
After that, I don't dare lay down beside him as I had for an hour the night before. Not with where my thoughts were going. I glanced towards the chamber pot, I'd need to empty it before anyone knew I'd relieved myself in front of Gilbert. At least it had no blood in it, I'd always been careful of who saw my chamber pots at that time of the month. The last one had hit right as Roy had been proposing. It was a nearly a month now, so it should come any day. I'd have to dig through my trunk and look for my belt and rags. I'd packed the spare one, but just in case had…
My second trunk, I'd need to check the mail for news from Pris and Stella on getting my trunk. What would I tell them! They'd burn with curiosity. That I was currently sitting in the Blythe spare room tending Gilbert while pretending or maybe I was engaged to him? Perhaps all my hints to keep my promise beside him meant that I now was? And that he'd been sitting on the chamber pot when he'd sort of proposed? Or at least the closest thing that I could argue was a proposal since he ran into me on the train.
I began to adjust the story in my mind, without any lies but leaving out enough pertinent details. I thought it over and, taking a deep breath I fetched some paper and a writing pen from the desk in the corner of the sitting room. Using a book to steady myself as I sat on the chair I glanced to Gil, and began to write to each of the girls, starting with Stella…
"Dearest Stella,
By now you're home, and as you're closer then Pris I'll assume you've taken my trunk with you. Perhaps it was providential I left when I did, though I ask that you and the girls remain quiet about it, as I became stranded for two nights on the way home, and it was rather a scrape I wish never to remember. But then, whom do you think ran into me on the train? Yes, run into, for he knocked me over as the train left the station. Gilbert Blythe. He was run down, and ill, but so joyful to see me. We spoke on the way home of everything and nothing, but when the Doctor finally saw him when we got home he confirmed my worst fears. Typhoid. We've been busy helping him fight. We'd such joyful news, but it must wait until the worst is past. I will not share it without him. Please keep him in your prayers. Dr. Spenser said when Gilbert's fever was measured yesterday that he had a 104 temperature. That a man can't survive that long with that high of a temperature. I am constantly praying and pleading for his life. The worse shall be this week. I pray I write with joyful news form me and Gilbert next week. I pray the next letter will be from us both,
Anne."
That would have to do. I glanced at him. He was sweltering. We'd had to increase how often we changed his sheets. I bathed him between writing letters, to Stella, Pris, Phil, and even Miss Lavender who was due to return to Ecco Lodge soon. To none of them I begged my questions. It could wait. We were in the battle for his life.
And then the thought that he would die and… I would not leave his side until we knew. I laid down my head next to his, sitting awkwardly in the chair and cried until I was shaken awake by Mrs. Lynde who'd come for the next watch. She took one look at my tear stained eyes, my rumpled and stained nightgown in the corner and clucked. "Upstairs to bed Anne…"
"No… I… I can't leave, what if he were to… Without me there."
"Nonsense Anne." She sighed. "Sleep, we'll wake you if there's any change."
I must have slept for hours for it was a racket below stares that woke me, and the sun that had streamed in the window was now gone. Worried that Gilbert had taken a turn for the worse, I'd not bothered to adjust my rumpled dress and hair from sleeping, or slipped my shoes or slippers back on and ran downstairs barefoot.
There was Aunt Mary Maria standing in the sitting room, arguing with Mrs. Lynde, and the Blythes. What was she doing here?
"I see the redhead Gilbert's gotten himself mixed up with is here." She stared at me. "They were quite indecent in Charlottetown. John, Gilbert had his head in her lap on a public bench."
I gasped.
"Mary Maria," Mr. Blythe spoke with a calmness I could not feel. "As I said, Gilbert has Typhoid. We're in quarantine and we're not able to take guests at this time."
"Nonsense. Clearly you need my assistance John." She nodded to the sick room, where I was edging towards. She pointed towards me. "And what is going on with…"
Gilbert was starting to stir, no doubt a nightmare caused by her voice. I ignored them, rushing to Gilbert and Davy closing the door on their raised voices behind him as he followed me in. Mrs. Blythe entered soon after sighing with four cats in tow. "She won't leave."
"The bitter woman?" Davy asked. "Just her voice gave Gilbert a nightmare."
She sighed. "She won't even stay with my sister. Insisting on staying. She certainly knows how to show up… She's convinced Gilbert will die and insists on being here. He won't. My boy can't…"
I rushed towards her wrapping my arms round her, our fears and grief shared.
"At least…" She sobbed. "At least he had you back…"
I don't say anything but stroke her hair.
"And he's got me too." Davy piped in.
She nodded… "The next few days. Dr. Spenser should be here in an hour and maybe he can talk some sense into Mary Maria. At least stay with my sister."
I gulp. "She should stay here, if she's worried about not saying goodbye. She loves Gilbert, we all do." I glance towards him. He's been less responsive all day. I smile at her. "We'll move my things to the sewing room or an out of the way corner and she can sleep in Gilbert's room. I don't think I could leave Gilbert at night, not until we know… The chair will do for me… I won't sleep."
"I can sleep on the couch." Davy volunteered.
"No." I shook my head. "You're a growing boy Davy Keith. The bed would just be empty if you were to give it to me. When he takes a turn for the better… he will…"
We'd argued over it, but I won my way in the end. One look at my face though when Gilbert had stirred enough to call me, Mrs. Blythe nodded and told me she'd see to moving my things, and move them to the sewing room.
When super time came, Id' been called into the sitting room where the dining table was set up. "Right and proper, Abigail." Aunt Mary Maria spoke to Mrs. Blythe. "Just because Gilbert is sick, does not mean we should loose our manners. And where is that lovely ironstone platter I'd given you and John for your wedding. It should be front and center. The best dish served on it."
Mrs. Blythe stared at her. "I… We've been focused on keeping my son alive not preparing for guests."
"Nonsense, I'll see to it." She took the iron pan that still had the potatoes in it, wrapping the dish cloth around it Aunt Mary Maria stood up, "Always use that platter. Gilbert should remember it in afterlife as the proper way to serve a meal, is always on a platter such as that."
I'd stayed in the door way that I might watch but also keep an eye on Gilbert. I really should return to him for it was time to bathe him again.
They returned with the most ugly platter I'd ever seen. At least from what I could see, for Mrs. Blythe had piled the potatoes on it, to hide as much of the hideous design. From what I could see were drawings of fat men laughing on the sides, dressed in togas. There was nothing lovely about the platter. Crude was more fitting. I laughed thinking of what Gilbert likely thought of it. They'd approached the table and Aunt Mary Maria noticed me. "Sit girl. And Abigail you and John really should pass on that platter to Gilbert and Anne for their home. If he lives. Anne, I will call you that for clearly Gilbert would not take my advice." She looked me up and down. "Rather too late for that it seems. Sit down. One of the men can sit with Gilbert."
"I really should return to Gilbert." I tried to back out.
"Nonsense." She waved towards Davy. "Sit with him, and eat afterwards. Anne will join the adults."
Finding some laughter and thinking of how when he recovered Gil and I would laugh over all this. I prayed he'd live. That he'd forgive me for inventing our engagement. One minute I'd swear I'd invented it, the other I'd half convince myself he really had proposed. Of course after that first night. I hadn't much other choice.
At least the physical pain was gone. Even if my heart ached in fear. Aunt Mary Maria Blythe whom I understood to have never married, or even have a beau spent the entire hour we ate lecturing me on the deportment of a wife. And everything I would need to know now that my path was set.
I'd managed to interrupt her at one point. "Gilbert and I don't have any news yet. He wanted… He wanted to share it together. When he's better."
She humphed and began to lecture Mrs. Blythe on her cats then.
I had barely eaten in worry. When I heard Aunt Mary Maria lean over to Mrs. Blythe and whisper loudly. "How far along do you think? She clearly has the signs. Even if…"
"Mary Maria… Not now, we're focusing on getting Gilbert through this. Other news can wait." Mr. Blythe spoke.
I gave them little thought instead rushing back to Gilbert's side. The next few days. He'd either conquer the disease, or it would conquer him. I could not leave his side. Most of the others stayed up late sitting with us. Mrs. Blythe read to us all, Aunt Mary Maria lectured us about the proper sick room until finally Mr. Blythe showed his cousin upstairs to her bed. I followed soon after to change into my night clothes, and Gilbert's old dressing gown. And with a glance at me to wake them with any changes Mrs. Blythe lead a half awake Davy upstairs to bed, after Davy helped me to change the sheets and Gilbert's diaper.
I bathed him then. Only a slight trickle in the back of my mind wondering at our being left alone unchaperoned. But my thoughts were on him… Washing him, realizing that I might only have days or hours left with him in this world. There's a revelation moment in everyone's life. It had crept up on me so slowly. And now I knew beyond a shadow of doubt. I loved Gilbert Blythe. That I could not imagine a future where I was not at his side. So after lovingly dressing him again in a fresh night shirt, pulling the bed clothes up over him, I set the alarm clock for an hour, and stretched out beside him and prayed to providence for his life. For our future.
I woke then, and the situation continued. Before dawn others had joined us, praying and keeping watch. The whole next day nothing changed, instead he just lost more and more life, we could barely get him to respond at all. We'd taken to dripping water into his mouth. As we found more and more complications, as though his body was deteriorating before our eyes. With each breath, I feared it would be the last. With each breath I felt alone.
