The phone wakes me in the wee hours of the morning, ringing from the kitchen and causing me to stumble out of bed and down the hall to grab it from its rack. Bash finds me with groggy eyes, confusion apparent as he looks up at me.
"It's alright - go back to bed. Yes - sorry, I'll be right over," I say into the phone and move swiftly down the hall to my room. Bash comes to lean in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest as he watches me get ready.
"Will you be back in time for dinner?" He rumbles, yawning.
"I don't know - the patient has been having a difficult pregnancy so I don't know how long it'll take. If Anne does show up - "
"Don't worry, it'll be like she's coming home, that's all that matters, right?" He interrupts. His clarity of mind surprises me and when I take my coat and scarf from his hands I can't hold the burst of happiness from showing on my face.
"I couldn't ask for a better family to have," I admit and he laughs, slapping my shoulder as I step past him.
"We're the family you chose and you've always been good at picking them. Good luck - we'll keep a plate warm."
I hurry off to the birth and spend the greater part of the day there, helping young Harris Murphy into the world. Though he's early, he still looks healthy enough to have a good chance of it. It's his mother who worries me and keeps me at the house for a few extra hours, working to ensure she makes it through the evening as best I can. When there's nothing more to do but wait the family sends me home, promising to call if anything changes throughout the night.
Heading home I try not to focus on the probabilities of survival for Mrs Murphy or the dinner that I've by now fully missed. Instead I choose to think about the warm bath I'm going to draw for myself while everyone is at the service and hope everything went alright this afternoon.
Stepping through the door I'm caught off guard by the happy scene before me, Bash, Mary and Anne all sitting at the table as the kids sing off-key Christmas carols to them before the stove. The smiles on their faces and the colour in Anne's cheeks makes my stomach flip pleasantly, my laughter coming out heartily as the kids stop mid-tune to crash into me.
"You're back! Can we eat now?" Seb shouts, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the kitchen. Anne meets my gaze as I stumble into the kitchen, her smile slipping as she looks me over.
It's then I remember what state I must be in, my clothes rumbled and stained. I must look a frightening mess, though neither Bash nor Mary say a thing. But Anne's face says it all, her skin going pale at the reminder of her own experiences.
"I'm going to change, please don't go," I blurt out, disappearing down the hall hastily. Mary comes chasing after me, a towel in hand.
"I've got hot water on the stove ready and we can quickly draw you a bath. You'll just have to hurry - the kids are hungry and there may be a mutiny if they have to wait any longer for dinner," she says quickly, helping me pull together the bathing items. I grab her hands when she flutters past me.
"You don't have to - "
"Stop it right now, Gilbert. Everything's ready, I'll bring the water and you just get yourself settled okay? I'll make sure she doesn't go anywhere." Her knowing look makes me smile, thankful that she understands more without me having to say a word.
I rush through the quickest bath I've ever had, scrubbing under my fingers and along my arms until the skin turns red. When I finally finish the last button and hastily return to the dining room it's to find the table set with a marvelous centerpiece that makes my meager dishware look misplaced. Around the table the group waits, patiently chattering about life in the Glen and tales of the school children that make the twins giggle brightly.
"It took you long enough!" Seb shouts as I enter the room, his faux insult making me laugh as Bash hushes him. I sit at the remaining chair beside Anne, sneaking a glance towards her as she finishes telling a sweet tale to Hazel across the table.
"Miss Anne made the centerpiece out of things she found in the woods. Isn't it lovely Uncle Gil?" Martha says across the table as Mary starts bringing hot dishes in from the kitchen.
"It is - almost as beautiful as the women at this table," I reply lightly and watch as the girls' eyes light up. Bash scoffs as he sets down the remaining dishes, tsking me as he slides into his chair.
"Come now, I am just as beautiful as Miss Anne here!" He scorns, laughing as the group chuckles.
"Fine - the women and Bash then," I amend. I chance a sideways glance at Anne as she shifts in her seat, her eyes darting towards mine and then back to the table quickly. "Alright - I bet we're all hungry. Hands together then we eat."
"Finally!" Seb groans and takes his sisters' hands for prayers.
We dig into the meal heartily and the conversation lulls, each of us filling ourselves until our stomachs are near bursting with the feeling. Setting down my fork with finality, I look around the table and smile, my heart thumping heavily in my chest.
"Thank you all for waiting for me," I say quietly, touched by the fact that they didn't eat and go to the church service without me. Though they had every reason to, it was wonderful to find them home when I got there and I was so thankful for that.
"Of course we'd wait for you," Mary exclaims, sitting up in her seat. "We had lovely company to keep us entertained so it didn't feel like time had passed at all! I'm so happy you could make it today Anne, really."
Beside me Anne shifts and smiles, looking at Mary with soft eyes. "I'm very happy I came after all. Seeing you again, meeting these little ones… It's lifted my spirits remarkably," she adds and rests her hands on the table.
I see it happening in slow motion as Bash gets to his feet, his hand coming to gently rest on Anne's shoulder without warning. In an instant she's on her feet, her chair knocked back against the wall and the children all staring at us with fear in their eyes. Bash withdraws like he's been burned, holding up his hands before him as he turns to focus on her with a neutral expression.
"Come now - it's just me, just Bash," he states carefully, soothing his voice as we watch her recoil against the wall. She's breathing heavily, the panic cutting through her as she closes her eyes and tries to calm herself. I get to my feet slowly and Mary pushes past me, shoving Bash and me towards the door abruptly.
"All of you go, leave us!" Mary instructs and stands protectively before Anne, watching as we leave the room in a confused state. Hazel and Martha start to cry as we enter the parlour, Bash pulling them into his chest in a tight embrace as I gather Seb close to me.
"Did you hurt her Papa?" Seb asks after a moment, his little face peeking out of my chest towards his father.
"No, Sebastian, he didn't hurt Anne. She's just…" I pause and try to think of the right word to explain to him, one that would convey the painful experience to a child. "She's not used to soft touches yet," is the best that I can do and Bash smiles sadly, pressing kisses to the tops of his daughter's heads.
"Oh," Seb says after a moment, looking up towards me. "Maybe I can show her that they're not scary when Mama lets us back to the table."
Laughing sadly, I tighten my arms around the boy and envy his view of the world, one that can be solved by things as gentle as love. "Maybe another time, Seb. I'm not sure she'll stay for the rest of the evening."
"I don't want Miss Anne to go!" Hazel shouts from her place in Bash's arms, her face indignant. "She was telling us funny stories and she didn't finish the one about this boy she used to fight with in school!"
My heart cracks at this and my breath catches in my chest. I didn't want her to go either. This didn't have to be how this went. Her memory of this Christmas didn't need to be filled with pain, not if we could do something about it.
"It's okay Hazel, we'll see her again another time," Bash whispers, brushing his hand through her curls. He doesn't say that she'll stay, his own certainty on the topic unclear. I can see the regret in the look that he gives me, his eyes closing tightly with shame.
The door opens after the silence in the room becomes deafening, Mary stepping into the space with Anne's hand tangled tightly in hers. I look up at them with worried eyes, my chest hurting as I look at Anne's tear-stained cheeks.
"We'll have dessert now then," Mary announces brightly, glancing around the room and tilting her head for Bash to join her in the kitchen. The children separate themselves from Bash and I, Seb careful as he approaches Anne who's come to sit on the couch.
"May I hold your hand, Miss Anne?" He questions softly, looking up at her.
"Well now, that's not a question I get asked often," she replies and smiles down at the boy, outstretching her hand towards him. He grabs it eagerly and climbs onto the couch beside her, tucking their hands together against his chest.
"Uncle Gil says you're not used to soft touches and that wouldn't do around us. Papa says love speaks through our hands and when we love someone we don't want to let them go. So this is me telling you I don't want you to go, okay?" He states matter of factly, my cheeks burning as she looks up at me with a question in her eyes. In another second it's gone and she's pulling the boy into her lap, hugging him close and tucking her head into his neck. He laughs and fights as she starts to tickle him, rolling off of her and back to his side of the couch.
"Thank you, Seb. That's just what I needed," she admits lowly and watches as the little boy beams back up at her. The twins are next, pulling her to her feet and dragging her down the hall to the guest room where they're staying.
I'm not invited to join them and I take the opportunity to find Mary and Bash in the kitchen, their whispers barely audible until they glance towards me.
"Gilbert," Mary sighs, her expression pained. "That girl has - she's just…"
"I know," I reply sadly, meeting her look of despair. "She hasn't told me everything but I know enough. I should have warned you."
"Warned us? You didn't need to warn us. She needs us. You should have called us here sooner," she chastises and drops the spoon she's using, the clattering of it on the dish echoing throughout the kitchen. I rub my hand across my face and look at them silently, trying to convey my thoughts without words.
"I think what Mary is trying to say is Anne needs love now more than ever," Bash interjects, looking between us before picking up the spoon and finishing dishing out the crisp dessert.
It hurts to hear it and I nod absently, the pain riddling through me. I couldn't help her. I hadn't since I first found her in this town. All I'd done was make it more difficult for her and I didn't know how to change that, or if I even could. I was lost.
"Oh, Gil," Mary breaks into my thoughts, pulling me against her in a bone crushing hug. The woman had always been able to see my thoughts, even before I realized them myself. She had a way with seeing people and I couldn't help but wrap my arms around her, holding onto her like a boat tethered in a storm. "You're doing alright. You're helping. You are. But she needs to feel safe again and that's only going to come with time, honey."
"It's all my fault, Mary," I whisper into her shoulder. "She never would have experienced that if I hadn't cut her out of my life."
"It isn't your fault, Gil," Anne says from behind me, her voice steady. I withdraw from Mary's embrace and turn to her, surprised to see her in the doorway. "Don't confuse what happened in our past with the reason this all happened. I won't have it. It's not our fault. It's his. Only his. It took me long enough to realize it and now that I have I refuse to let anyone else take the blame but him."
It strikes me again just how smart she is, how brilliant this woman is that stands before me. How strong and brave, resilient. How she's a survivor. "Anne," I murmur, stepping towards her and half expecting her to withdraw. When she doesn't I hold out my hand towards her, palm up, and wait to see if she'll reach for me in return.
Her fingers entwine with mine and we stand there, a world of space between us but my soul so close to hers that I can practically feel her heart thudding slowly with mine. It only lasts for a second, a brief touch, but one that ends almost as quickly as it started. When she pulls back it's with a forced smile on her lips, her eyes lifting towards the pair behind me.
"I believe dessert was promised," she chuckles then and with that the mood of the evening is lifted, the Christmas celebration bringing us closer than I could have ever imagined.