January 2, 1894
Anne woke up early. She heated some water for a bath, used what was left to make tea. Boiled two eggs, grilled some leftover bread. As a breakfast, it wasn't very impressive, but still the most food she'd had in one sitting since Christmas, and certainly the finest meal she'd made herself in over a year.
After quickly clearing up the kitchen, Anne went up to her bedroom and sat at her desk. A fresh sheet of paper was pulled from the drawer, and she held her favorite pen, its weight comfortingly familiar in her hand. Her eyes fell on the inscription, A. B. Shirley. She wondered if Gilbert knew, when he'd presented it to her for her birthday five years ago...
Sitting up straight, she began a list. On paper, the tasks ahead seemed less daunting. It would take some effort, but Anne had never shied from work.
January 2, 1894
Avonlea, PEI
Dear Davy,
How is everything in Gaspereaux? I hope that you had a pleasant Christmas with the Hodgsons, and that the New Year finds you happy and healthy. Dora wrote a few months back, then again on Christmas: things are getting serious between her and the young tutor, by the sounds of it. I'm sure this is nothing new to you, surely she's written you all about it.
But I don't mean to pry - if I write, it is to ask you to consider returning to Avonlea. The farm is getting to be too much for me to handle on my own, and it is lonely here. I'm not trying to guilt you into coming back permanently, I just need some help to get through this spring, and perhaps summer as well. If you could extend your stay until the end of fall, I'd be so grateful. And if you were to stay even longer, even the written word couldn't express how much happiness you would bring to Green Gables.
Please, do not send me your hard-earned wages. The sum you sent last year is set aside: you may collect it when you return, or I will save it for you until you need it. It is not monetary help I require, but your physical presence would be appreciated.
All my love,
Anne
January 4, 1894
"Auntie Anne! Auntie Anne! Are those for us?"
"Hello, darling! Some of them are for your Mama and Papa. Here, give me a second." Anne shifted awkwardly, trying not to drop any of the wrapped packages in her arms while Freddie ran for his parents, exclaiming "Auntie Anne is here!" at the top of his shrill, six year old voice.
"Well, this is a surprise!" said Fred somewhat sardonically. "What did you do, rob a toy store?"
"And a candy shop." She craned her neck, trying to peak around the stack of boxes obstructing her view. "Be a gentleman and take some of these, would you?"
The pitter-pattering of little racing feet made Anne tighten her grip on the parcels. Somehow, she kept them all balanced as a child latched on each side of her skirt.
"I lost a tooth, Auntie Anne, see?" Small Anne Cordelia tugged on her skirts, at the same time as her mother asked: "Anne Shirley, what is the meaning of this?"
"Let me set these down, my sweet, and I'll have a good, close look," Anne chose to address the easier-to-please member of the Wright clan first.
"Children, go finish your milk, Auntie Anne will be right over after she and Mama have a little chat." Recognizing that tone, Fred quickly took the pile of presents and brought them into the parlor, deciding that it was best to stay clear of his wife.
"So," Diana crossed her arms and stared expectantly. "Trying to buy your way back into the family?"
Anne had the good grace to look sheepish. "If it'll work, then, yes."
But Diana was not to be mollified so easily - not by humor, anyway. "You barely said a word at Christmas."
Anne bit her tongue, knowing that she would be cued when it was her turn to speak. "You barely said anything to anyone all year. The whole town is asking me about you, and I don't have a clue what to say! My husband wakes up an hour earlier than he used to to make sure your fields don't turn into a jungle, and he doesn't know any more than I do! My children, your godson and your namesake, have been asking why their Auntie Anne doesn't ever smile or tell them stories anymore."
Anne waited an extra ten seconds to make sure she was done before speaking. "I'll make it up to them. And to you. I know I've been a bad friend." She hadn't expected to choke up so soon, and swallowed past the familiar lump in her throat. "I had the worst year of my life, Di. It's been so hard."
Diana cocked her head. "Harder than losing Marilla?"
"A thousand times harder." She shook her head. "Marilla was sick for a long time. I had a year at least to prepare. It was very sad, and very hard, but she'd made peace with it. Plus, there were...factors..." Diana's face softened, and Anne knew she was on the right track, so she kept the truths rolling. "There was no warning for Gilbert. One day, everything was fine, the next, he was gone. I needed him, as much as I need you."
Diana thought for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Alright. I'll let it pass, on two conditions. No more skipping Sunday dinners - you have a seat at our table, and you better use it."
"Fair, except - don't look at me like that! I was only going to ask for a pass this week, I'd like to visit the Harrisons. I've been putting off their invitations for a long time, and I think they're really lonely."
"Well, that's fine, I suppose," said Diana, bemused. "Alright: second condition."
"Say no more: it's in the white and yellow striped box-" Diana raced to the parlor, and Anne shook her head with a grin. She knew the secret to obtain her bosom friend's forgiveness: all it took was a heartfelt admission, and salted caramels.
January 29, 1894
White Sands, PEI
Dear Anne,
Thank you so very much for your visit last Saturday. Mother was giddy with happiness all week, she'd missed you so. She has spoken of you often since Miss Cuthbert's passing, and asks about the Keith twins once in a while. Even though she might have seemed a bit distracted, do know that she was very touched that you'd thought of calling on her. Now, she is pleased as punch - finally, something new to brag about at her quilting club!
Included is a shawl she's been working on for you since you left. Her eyes aren't quite what they used to be - but it should keep you warm enough nevertheless.
Again, thank you for bringing Mother such joy. Please do not feel obliged, but she would love to see you again soon: as would I, should I happen to be in the area.
Cordially,
Hannah Lynde
February 2, 1894
Gaspereaux, PEI
Hello Anne,
Sorry for the late reply. Your letter was held at the post office - if you send me mail, make sure to address it care of the Hodgsons.
As much as I'd like to, I won't be coming back to Green Gables. I wish I could, but I can't leave my job at the factory. I'm saving up so that I can buy some land, and Millie and me can get her father's consent to get married. It'll be another two years at least since I can save enough, I'm behind as it is, and Millie is patient, but she won't wait forever.
Maybe you could come visit. Gaspereaux is fine, but it's no Avonlea, that's for sure.
Millie sends her regards. I do, too.
Davy
February 6, 1894
She sat on her spot beside the frozen creek. The cold air bit at her face, urging her away, but she wouldn't leave. Instead, she positioned herself at the same angle as that night, and stared at the tree against which Gilbert had been leaning.
February 13, 1894
Anne nudged the black hen to the side, and quickly grabbed the guarded egg before her hand could be transpierced by the merciless beak. Her basket wasn't as full as it had been when Marilla ran the place. Maybe she ought to start speaking to the hens again? That had worked, or at least she thought it had...
"This is why I got a B.A.," she chided herself. "To learn how to talk to chickens." She shook her head as she arranged the eggs carefully in the cupboard. What had happened to the ambitious, scholarly Anne? She'd set aside her ambitions to learn ancient languages, to read all the most important books ever written (and some less important ones), to bring her writing to the new level. It had been enough to stay in Avonlea, in order to be with Marilla, though even then she hadn't abandoned the pen completely: there had been many nights of writing by Marilla's bed, dampening the candlelight with a book so that it wouldn't disturb her. No, her writing had only come to a screeching halt when Gilbert Blythe had departed this world.
Anne tugged at the chain around her neck and took the locket in her hand, as she did every time she thought of him. Her heart still ached over the loss of her chum, but she found herself forgetting things. Important details, like the exact shape of his hands; the way he threw his head back when he laughed at something particularly funny; the warmth of his chest when he pinned her against him, ruffling her hair with his free hand until it stood in a tangled, static mess. She screwed her eyes shut, and tried to remember: but her efforts were in vain, and she had no way of getting those memories back, no matter how tightly she clung to them. She was forgetting, and she hated it.
Suddenly, she stood up, catching the open door of the cupboard with her knee, but barely registering the pain: of course! It was so obvious: the remedy for forgetfulness is studying. How many times had she given her students this very lecture, during her school teaching days? This was the solution! Anne Shirley, B.A., would study.
And with that thought, she bolted up the stairs, leaving behind a basket half-full of eggs, and an open cupboard.
February 27, 1894
Royal Hospital, Prince Albert, SK
Miss Shirley,
We regret to inform you that due to patient confidentiality rules, we are unable to satisfy your request. Information regarding current patients is only given with explicit consent, and the files that you request have not been validated with a release form.
Regards,
L. Ashleigh, Secretary, Records & Files
February 28, 1894
Anne woke up with a start, her eyes adjusting to the lack of light, heart racing. She'd dreamed of Gilbert - they'd been dancing together, but already the image of his face was dissipating in her mind...and then, he'd been violently ill, lying in bed, and his father was crying...
Wiping the tears from her cheeks, Anne got dressed in the dark and headed out towards the forest.
March 1, 1894
Gaspereaux, PEI
Dear Anne,
If you really mean it, I'll come right away. Do you mean it, for real? The factory is awful, and I'm getting nowhere with the lousy pay.
Yours,
Davy
March 3, 1894
"Just a bit more won't hurt you," insisted Mrs. Harrison, placing a thick slab of meatloaf on Anne's plate.
"Thank you," Anne smiled warmly at the woman who seemed to love fussing over her.
"James used to love my meatloaf, you know. He'd eat it so fast, I used to have to warn him to slow down, or he'd get a bellyache!"
"It really is delicious!" complimented Anne, enjoying the way Mrs. Harrison beamed at her.
"Oh dear, I best go check on the pies. It's been so long since we've had any real company - beside James, when he visits with his wife and children, which is never - I'm afraid I've forgotten to allot time for the pie to cool down!"
Mr. Harrison waited until she was in the kitchen, then leaned forward to whisper in a conspiratorial whisper: "James can't stand the meatloaf. Used to feed it to the dog, when she wasn't looking. I've never quite acquired the taste for it myself, but seeing as we don't have the dog anymore..."
Anne stifled down a laugh. "I think it's delicious," she challenged the grandfatherly man, shovelling a large forkful in her mouth.
Mr. Harrison's mouth twisted in a grin to match her own: "That's nice of you to say, but I know a whopper when I see one."
Anne chalked the incident that followed up to poor timing and bad table manners - it would be just her luck that Mrs. Harrison would return to the dining table just in time to see her choke into her napkin. Still, it was worth it to hear Mr. Harrison slap his knees and roar with laughter.
March 6, 1894
Gaspereaux, PEI
Dear Anne,
I will be on the Sunday morning train to Avonlea. Don't bother coming to the station - just hide the keys where you used to, if you go to church.
Yours,
Davy
March 9, 1894
Royal Hospital, Prince Albert, SK
Miss Shirley,
If the information you request pertains to a former patient, you will need to address your request to the Hospital Archives & Filings.
Regards,
L. Ashleigh, Secretary, Records & Files
March 11, 1894
"I'd love to have you back, that's the truth," admitted Mr. Rowan, scratching his bald head. "But you see, now that Abby's father is doing better, she's been able to put in more time... I'm afraid there wouldn't be that much for you to do. I couldn't take you at full time. But if you're in trouble, I'm sure we could think of something."
"It's not about money," assured Anne. "I'll always be grateful, for all your help when Marilla was sick. But this is different. I just...need something to do. And to be able to set something aside, a little bit would be enough. Davy's come back to help me with Green Gables, and...well, the boy eats."
Mr. Rowan chuckled. "Come in tomorrow morning, we'll figure something out. Get you reacquainted with the sorting room."
"Thank you! Oh, thank you so much!" The man blushed to the top of his crown when she pressed his hand.
"Any time, Anne Shirley!" he called as the spirited young woman fled from the post office.
March 15, 1894
Anne knocked at the door, and waited for Davy's "come in" to enter.
"Are you sure you want this room?" she asked, sitting on the edge of the bed he was occupying. "You could stay in your old room, if you want."
"This one's fine."
"Alright. So, how is Millie?"
Davy grinned. "She can't wait to come to Avonlea. Her father's a real bear - he won't let her do anything."
"Well, I'm sure he just wants what's best for her," Anne grinned back. "Even though I disagree with his methods, I suppose he might feel protective of his daughter. It's hard to let go of the people we raise."
Guilt formed on his face. "I'm not sorry I left. I had to, Anne."
She smiled tolerantly. "Alright."
The young man flopped back on the bed, and sighed. "Stop being nice, and just scold me already."
"Why would I do that?" she asked.
He shrugged, and buried himself under the covers. "Because I left you all alone," came his muffled reply. "Because I didn't want you to have to take care of the farm and me and Dora all at the same time."
"You know I would have loved for you to stay," she said quietly.
"That only makes it worse," his words filtered through the comforter. "Marilla was supposed to get better. You were supposed to move to the big City, and find a publishing man."
"Publishing house," Anne corrected with a wry smirk. "Davy, Marilla was very sick, and in a great deal of pain. It was her time to go, and she was relieved in the end."
"Was Mr. Blythe in a lot of pain, too?" he remained under the covers to ask, and she suspected he might be crying.
"He was sick for a while, as well." She ran her hand over the lump which she thought might be his leg.
"No, I mean the younger Mr. Blythe."
Her hand froze. "Gilbert?" she asked, and the spot where his head hid nodded. "I don't know," said Anne slowly. "I'm trying to find out."
March 18, 1894
Royal Hospital, Prince Albert, SK
Miss Shirley:
In order for your request to be submitted, you will need to provide the patient's dates of admission/release to the hospital, as well as the patient's birth certificate or baptism record. Once we receive the aforementioned documents, we will be most happy to assist you.
Regards,
Llewellyn C. Richards
Royal Hospital Archives & Filings
March 19, 1894
"Thank you so much for doing this, Anne. I know how busy things are at Green Gables."
"It's no trouble at all," answered Anne from where she crouched in the flower bed. She wiped her brow with the cleanest part of her forearm, balancing the small spade in her dirt covered hand. "Davy's pulling most of the weight, and Fred Wright and Mr. Harrison still help."
"That's nice," said Mrs. Blythe smiled absently.
"There," said Anne, standing up and brushing soil from her skirt. "I believe every weed has been slain."
"Shall we have our tea indoors? It's getting mighty drafty out here."
Anne felt not a single breeze, but agreed anyway. When people stopped by the post office and asked her about the widow, Anne would say that she was doing much better, thank you for asking. She wouldn't share that there were some moments, just little ones, when Mrs. Blythe seemed to remember all at once that tragedy had struck twice, and that she wasn't supposed to be happy. Other times, she would start feeling, and even seeing things that weren't there. Those times were worse: they usually passed as quickly as they came, but were horrible to witness.
"How is Davy enjoying Green Gables? John used to love having him help at the farm. Mind you, I'm glad to have sold, I could never manage on my own - I do miss seeing him in the fields, though."
Anne nodded and devoted herself to pouring the tea. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask, but for all the times she brought up the subject of John, Mrs. Blythe seldom spoke of Gilbert. That loss was too fresh, still. Anne could sympathize with that all too well.
Maybe she could just find it and borrow it: the Blythes didn't have a study, they kept all their documents in a single cabinet, in the bedroom.
You stole? From my mother? The accusation echoed in her head, and she abandoned the idea immediately, feeling no small amount of shame. She could call it borrowing all she wanted, it would still be despicable of her.
"Mrs. Blythe, I..."
The woman looked at her expectantly, and Anne simply couldn't shatter the temporary peace in her eyes. "...I, uh, have always admired this china pattern. Is it a family set?"
Tarnation. She'd have to find another way.
April 3, 1894
Glen St Mary, PEI
Dear Anne,
How nice it is to hear from you! We are so glad you are doing well. This past year has been hard on everyone, what with one bad thing following the next, but I fear that your own pain might have gone overlooked amidst everyone else's. It's so good of you to write us, and let us know you are well.
Sarah says that you've been visiting more frequently since the New Year. Thank you for that, dear. It assuages my guilt to know that someone can be there when I cannot - Uncle Dave is at the peak of what he calls 'baby season', and I don't want to leave him, especially not when he's driving out at all hours, rain or shine. I simply cannot go to bed until I know he's home safe. Take my word for it, don't marry a doctor: I'm afraid if you do, you might never sleep through the night again.
Of course, Uncle Dave would be happy to write the Hospital for you, dear - but he is concerned about your motivation. Are you certain you need to see all this? I understand you and Gilbert were close friends, but what do you hope to gain from the details? There is a high chance that the cold, hard facts are awful, and would look worse on paper. So we ask: do you truly wish to know?
I hope to come visit Sarah in Avonlea soon, though I'll have to wait until things slow down at the Glen. Do take care, Anne dear, and write us as often as you wish!
With love,
Aunt Katherine
April 19, 1894
Royal Hospital, Prince Albert, SK
Miss Shirley,
We were unfortunately unable to process your request. In order for patient files to be released, you must submit the original birth certificate. If none has been issued, a baptism record can be submitted in its place. You will also be required to submit proof of parentage - your own birth certificate would suffice.
Regards,
Llewellyn Richards
Royal Hospital Archives & Filings
April 30, 1894
Royal Hospital, Prince Albert, SK
Miss Shirley,
All information pertaining to our past patients is strictly protected under our confidentiality regulations, and can be released only to immediate family (parents, children and spouses), upon request and with proper documentation provided.
Regards,
Llewellyn Richards
Royal Hospital Archives & Filings
May 14, 1894
Royal Hospital, Prince Albert, SK
Miss Shirley,
It is unclear to me whether you hope to obtain information from a current patient, former patient, or an employee's file. In either case, all hospital employees' information is confidential, and sealed unless requested by another hospital or licensed caregiver. All patients' information can only be released to blood relations and spouses.
Regards,
L. Ashleigh, Secretary, Records & Files
June 2, 1894
"I'm so sorry to dash off like this - I've only managed to secure the travel arrangements today," Anne apologized.
"We usually hit a lull, this time of year, anyway," Mr. Rowan dismissed with a wave of his hand. "Go, have a safe trip."
"I'll be back in ten days!" Anne promised, and hurried out to the buggy, where Davy was fidgeting impatiently.
"You sure you want to do this?" he asked dubiously as they drove a bit faster than was reasonable.
"You're the one who wants me out in the big City," Anne nudged him with her sharp elbow. "I'll call when I get there, alright? Don't forget, you have dinner with the Harrisons-"
"On Sunday, I know. Sheesh. Stop worrying."
"I will if you do. Keep your eyes on the road."
June 4, 1894
Anne's heart hammered as she stood at the reception desk. The sweet woman - young girl, really - with the chestnut eyes and hair to match had asked her to wait just one moment, if it was not an emergency. She'd said that she would be with her as soon as possible, but that it might be a wait, and wouldn't she have a seat in the meanwhile?
Anne would not sit, could not sit. The place was larger than she'd imagined - taller ceilings, and a lot less white. Nurses rushed about, twenty-ish people in various states of injury waited on a row of chairs against the wall, but she saw almost no-
"Doctor!" the young brown-headed girl at the desk called to someone over Anne's shoulder. "I was just about to call for you. There's a child with a splintered leg in room 4- oh! I didn't make the connection! This must be your sister! I would have recognized you straight away, if... I didn't even realize, or you could have waited in his office! I'm so sorry."
Confused as to why the receptionist seemed to be talking to her, Anne blinked and turned to look behind her.
She found herself staring at the large, familiar bulk of Doug Sheehan. The man blinked back, and then his confused look morphed into a devilish grin.
"Hello, sis."
AnneFans: Excellent point. So far, he shows up on the New Year's eve - can't say more without spoiling!
elizasky: I don't think Anne ever really gave it an honest try, the second time in June, the first time on New Year, or even this time with the pills (though certainly, that was the closest). I think she might want to call out for help, but couldn't go about it normally at the time. Excellent points about the haunting - can't elaborate now, but very astute observations!
OriginalMcFishie: You're right - Diana would have been furious, and I think very hurt. Gil is not altogether gone yet - still invites himself over on New Years' eve. I don't think I could have bared to obliterate him completely.
Guest: Sorry, didn't mean to offend! And not following a trend. So far, Gilbert is not entirely gone, though...thanks for reading!
slovakAnne: Thank you! Gil and Anne's relationship will definitely be explored further.