The December air slips through the door of the cafe and skitters across my skin, chilling me as I sip at my tea and make notes on some of the files I've brought with me. I've tucked myself into the corner table in an effort to get some real work done before the day is out, if only to have time to make my house presentable to welcome Bash and Mary and their three children for the holidays.
Christmas had come upon me before I even realized, the cooler temperatures and a flu bug going around compounding my workload so that I barely had time to eat, let alone think about how the people around me were doing. How Anne was doing.
Though we saw each other more regularly now - she'd admitted she'd stopped trying to avoid me as of late - there was still a tightness in the way she held herself back when she was near me. I tried not to notice, tried to keep my thoughts from getting caught up in it, but it was a challenge I had to concede. She was an enigma now, reserved and quiet, prone to quick escapes and terrified of a touch from anyone but Susan.
That was the hardest part for me to wrap my head around. Every time I moved in a way that signaled I intended to do more than the briefest contact she flinched away, recoiling to a distance that was impossible to miss. I couldn't blame her - it was improper for me to even try - but old habits were hard to break, even after all this time. The only time I was permitted to really get close was during our check-ups after her illness and even those were moments where I was Doctor Blythe and nothing else.
I worked hard not to take it personally, to keep my hands tucked in my pockets and in a place where I wouldn't be tempted, but sometimes it was hard to stop myself from trying to comfort her, especially on evenings after school where she stopped by the surgery simply to sit in silence and wait for Susan to finish the weekly shopping.
Those instances were always the most vexing. She would knock on the door lightly, almost as if she was hoping I wouldn't hear and then proceed to sit quietly in the waiting room as I worked on paperwork.
One evening I made the mistake of asking her about it, hoping to understand why she chose to sit with me rather than shop with Susan, or even be at home. Turning to me with the most broken look I'd ever seen cross her face, she sighed and got to her feet.
"I prefer not to be alone, is all," she'd replied and left without a goodbye to head back into the street.
I hadn't dared ask her more after that, simply letting her keep company with me when I was in the office and giving her the space to be at peace whenever I could. It was an odd arrangement, I knew, but I couldn't turn her away after I everything I'd learned. If she found safe harbour in the surgery then I would let her have it without question. I could do that for her.
Sighing, I look down at my notes and huff out a breath. The words were scattered and slanted and my eyes hurt from focusing on the pages for the last few hours.
"More tea," I murmur, recognizing the solution before covering up the pages and moving to slide my chair back.
"May I sit with you?" Anne's quiet voice says over my shoulder, my gaze snapping up to where she holds two cups of tea in her hands. I nod and watch as she settles down across from me, her face nipped red from the cold. "This is for you," she adds and moves the teacup towards me quickly, sighing when the tea slips over the edge and onto the table.
"Thanks," I reply and move my papers out of the way, tucking them in my folders and looking towards her with a small smile. "How are you today, Miss Wright?"
She shrugs and lifts her tea to her lips, her eyes dropping to the table. "Well enough, I suppose."
"I'm glad to hear it. I guess the school semester is almost out? Are you looking forward to the break?" I ask as an attempt to bring her out of the shell she typically hides in in public now.
"Yes - it finished up yesterday. I'll miss it but I am looking forward to a few quiet days to read by the fire, I will admit," she adds with a low chuckle. The sound of it brings a smile to my mouth and I relish it for a moment. She didn't laugh often and whenever I managed to get it out of her it made my heart swell with pride.
"Glad to hear that. I've heard good things from the students in the area which is high praise since they're notoriously hard to please," I offer and settle in for what I hope will be a conversation that sets our regular silence aside. "Do you have any plans for the break?"
She shifts in her chair and looks at the table. "Susan has invited me to her daughter's home with her for a week but I don't want to impose on them. I think I'll just take the time to do some lesson planning and enjoy the peace and quiet."
Her words catch me by surprise and before I realize it my mouth is moving with an offer I won't take back. "Why don't you spend Christmas with us? Bash and Mary are coming for the holidays, I'm sure they'd love to see you again."
Sitting before me her shoulders tighten and she freezes, like a deer caught out early in a field. The colouring in her cheeks pales and she blinks, looking stricken.
"Do they know I'm here?" She breathes, her chest rising and falling quickly. I see the panic rise in her and I try cut it off before it starts, sitting up straighter and looking at her head on.
"No - nobody does. Cordelia…" I wish I could reach for her. Wish I could say her real name and bring her back from the edge but know that it would do more harm than good.
"Are you sure?" It comes out cracking before she exhales forcefully, shaking her head and looking away. I can practically see herself pulling back from the anxiety that's clouding her reaction.
"One hundred percent. I only offered because I know you hate to be alone and I don't - I can't bear to think of you alone on Christmas," I whisper so that only she can hear, my hand sliding across the table with my palm up signalling that I'm here if she wants my comfort. Her hand shifts from the teacup and her fingers graze across mine, the lightest touch giving me hope.
"Will you talk to them before - before I come? Will you explain? I couldn't… I mean I don't want to ruin - "
"You wouldn't ruin anything, ever, I promise. They've missed you all these years. And I can discuss it with them when they get here so they understand why - why you're you now." I stumble over how to talk about her secrets without giving anything away. Though Mrs Lynde is far away back in Avonlea, I know there are others in this small town who would feed on a good story just the way she had while we were growing up and I was determined not to let that happen.
"I don't know," she says quietly after a moment, withdrawing her hands into her lap and leaving me reaching for her. Though I want to draw back with the rejection I force myself to stay open to her, desperate for her to see that I'm not hurt by what she needs from me, or even by what she doesn't.
"Well, we'll set a place for you anyways. We will eat at four and then attend the service that evening. Bash always loves the caroling part even though he can't sing at all." She laughs at that, relaxing more with each mention of Bash and my family back in Avonlea.
"It sounds wonderful, Gil. I do sorely miss home. Diana invited me to spend the break with her family but I don't think it's wise to go back yet," she admits lowly, glancing around the small cafe with her practiced eye. I look too, recognizing each of the faces in the room and understanding the constant awareness she has for her surroundings now.
It strikes me then that she must miss Avonlea dearly, her self-imposed exile causing her loneliness to amplify. She had no one this year, not even the charade of family she had with Roy. Marilla was gone and visiting Diana wasn't yet something she deemed feasible, the risk far outweighing a few days by herself. Though it troubled me I tried not to let it show, choosing instead to focus on the memories from past Christmases and particularly the year when Bash first came to Avonlea.
"We won't be able to top Diana's Christmas I'm sure but I promise you'll enjoy some good island food, at the very least." She looks up at me at that, a smile lighting her features.
"Let me think about it. I should be getting on now - Susan planned to leave this evening and I said I'd see her off at the train." Anne finishes her tea and touches her fingers to my hand once more, glancing up at me shyly. I smile back at her and curl my fingers into my palm, bringing hers with them. She doesn't pull away and I could burst at the thrill that jolts through me.
"Wish her well for me," I say as she eventually withdraws, getting to her feet to wrap her scarf around herself tightly.
"I will," she promises and disappears through the door, the cold wind from outside cooling the blush from my features as I watch her go.
"Bash! Mary!" I shout as they disembark the train, their hands full as they wrangle children and luggage onto the platform. The kids immediately follow my voice and crash into my legs, nearly knocking me over as I laugh at the impact and drop to my knees.
"Uncle Gilbert!" They shout in unison, the twin girls Hazel and Martha grabbing at my arms and little Seb jumping for attention in front of me.
"I'm so glad to see you! You're all growing so big!" I exclaim heartily, pulling them all in for a tight hug.
"Papa says you say that because you're never home to see us," Hazel mumbles into my shoulder, her words causing me to laugh abruptly as I look up towards Bash.
"He does, does he?" I grin and stand up to embrace Bash and Mary in a long overdue hug. "I'm so glad you guys could make it. I couldn't get anyone to cover to go home so - "
"We know, you don't have the explain it to us again," Bash laughs, ruffling my hair and pulling Mary tightly to his side. "Besides - they loved the train ride, even if it was a bit much for the other passengers."
"Stop, they were fine!" Mary sighs and lifts her hand to my cheek. "You look different than the last time we saw you. Tired still, but there's something else…"
"I bet it's a girl. He always gets that dreamy look when - " Bash teases before Mary slaps his shoulder to hush him.
I pause and smile, shaking my head and turning to lead them to the sleigh I've prepared outside the station. "You'll never guess who's here," I say as we walk through the busy station.
"If you tell me it's that An-" It's my turn to shoot him a look, his lips closing halfway through the name at my expression. The kids stumble into me at the abrupt stop and Mary looks between us, her brow furrowing.
"Maybe we'll talk about this all at home, alright?" She interjects and I nod, motioning us once more towards the exit and onto the sleigh. When we're all settled in I steer us home leaving the horde of people behind.
Once back at the house I let them settle in and busy myself with preparing the tea, so used to waiting on myself that when Mary shuffles in a few moments later I'm surprised when she chastises me for going to the effort.
"You're my guest, Mary, of course I'm going to make you all tea," I hiss as she slaps my hand away from the stove.
"Really - don't you have a housekeeper for this yet? You're a doctor, you can't be expected to run a home and work at all hours! Maybe that's why you're so exhausted," she chides and begins setting the tray full with the bakery items I'd purchased for their arrival. She tuts at the pre-made sweets, shaking her head as I remind her that I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself.
Later, after Mary prepares and serves supper I insist on letting them focus on getting the children to bed while I prepare a nightcap. When we settle into the small parlour later that evening, the warm scent of aromatic food still lingering in the air, I breathe a sigh of relief at having my family here.
"What has you so happy lately boy?" Bash starts abruptly, running his fingers along Mary's shoulders in that annoyingly affectionate way that I envy. "I figure you wanted to tell us since you brought it up at the station."
I clear my throat and smile softly, thinking of how best to bring up the topic with them after all this time. There was no doubt that they would be happy to see Anne but I wanted to be sure I would do it right. The history between us was thick enough already and I needed my family to understand that it wasn't like before - they couldn't tease us like they used to, or imply anything of the sort because I knew it would make her uncomfortable, if not abrasive like a cornered animal.
No, they had to get it. I had to figure out a way to make them understand.
"She's here, isn't she?" Mary says when my pensive look turns soft.
"Yes." Is all I can say as I turn over what's next in my mind. Bash sits up and leans his elbows on his knees, chin in his hand.
"I thought she was married to that fellow from the College," he mumbles as he watches me shift, concern apparent in his gaze. Though Bash had always been pro-Anne, the truth was really that he was pro-Blythe-happiness, first and foremost. His concern was for the hurt that I had opened myself up to with seeing her again, his worry that it would drag me back down to the half-living person I was in school.
"She was. But…" I pause uneasily, hesitant to share her story without her being here. I wanted to prepare Bash and Mary for seeing her again, seeing the changes in her, but I didn't want them to know the details of it all - not without her telling them herself. "It didn't work. She's - she's here but nobody is to know that it's her. She's going by Cordelia Wright and is teaching - "
"Gilbert," Mary sighs, watching me carefully. There's a sadness in her eyes that I can't miss.
"She had a rough time of it, Mary. I don't want to go into the details but she's different now. She's still kind and caring but she isn't the same person so I don't want you to be surprised and ask her a lot of questions because I'm afraid that she'll get upset," I admit and shake my head, blinking back a rush of feelings. When I look up it's Bash who gets to his feet first and pulls me into a crushing hug. I feel myself come apart as the man holds me tightly to his chest, his arms wrapping around my shoulders.
We stand there for a few moments, the surprise at my own tears wearing off as I eventually pull away and rub at my eyes. I hadn't realized I'd been holding all of this in since I saw her in the window's reflection that first day. I'd stuffed it away, hidden the relief and the worry and the reality of her story into a place where I didn't have to process it. But Bash had always had a way of showing me with just a look that I could tell him things that I wouldn't tell anyone else and this had been no different. He was my brother, my family, and he understood me better than almost anyone else in this world.
"You've loved that girl for a long time," Bash says as he eases back down onto the couch before tucking Mary into his side sweetly. She wipes at her tears and slides her arm around his shoulders, resting against his chest and watching me slip back into my chair.
"I invited her to Christmas dinner. I probably should have asked - "
"Don't be silly, of course she's welcome," Mary chuckles and sighs, looking at me curiously. "Is there something else? Something going on between the two of you?"
"No. And I'd prefer that we didn't bring anything like that up. I just - with Marilla gone I didn't want her to spend it alone. Can we just pretend that all of that stuff in the past is just that - in the past?" I urge them to agree, my expression pleading. It was this or it couldn't happen - I wouldn't let the past come back to haunt us.
"You have our word, right Bash?" He nods and smiles, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
"Promise. Although I am thinking perhaps we'll need to spice up dinner a bit since we'll have guests. Do you think she'd appreciate some crab callaloo, if we could find the ingredients?" Bash offers, rubbing his hands together excitedly.
The rest of the evening passes quickly, familiar and comfortable conversation and joking making me feel more relaxed than I'd been in a long while. When eventually we all head to bed I do so with a lighter heart, one actually looking forward to tomorrow and having everyone together for the afternoon.