Jerry and Jem joined Faith and Bruce in the boys' room minutes later to find the two of them hugging. Tears stood in Faith's eyes for the tenth time that day, but once again, they were tears of joy and gratefulness. The sound of the front door opening and women's voices interrupted them.
"Jerry?" Rosemary Meredith's voice drifted upstairs.
"He must be sleeping." Una's voice now joined their stepmother's.
"Jem, come with me," instructed Jerry. "We're going to surprise them."
"There you are, Jerry," Rosemary said as Jerry came downstairs. "And Jem, hello! Checking in again?"
"Not for medical reasons this time," Jem responded.
"Bruce was asking for you," said Jerry coyly. "You happened to come at a perfect time."
"He's not feeling ill, is he?" asked Una worriedly.
"Oh, no, he just wanted to see you."
"I'm hoping he won't come down with this," said Rosemary, slipping past them towards the stairs.
"Me either," grumbled Jerry as the three of them followed her upstairs.
Rosemary walked in first, Una right behind her, while the boys fell back. Rosemary's eyes went to the bed, where Faith and Bruce sat, Bruce in Faith's arms, to Una, to the bed again before she gasped. "Faith Meredith! What in heaven's name are you doing here?" she exclaimed.
"I'm home!" she squealed and her mother and sister rushed over to hug her. They stayed that way for a while, just savoring the embrace of a loved one. When they pulled back, all three wiped tears from their eyes.
"Oh, Faith," said Una. "You're home...you're safe and you're home."
"That I am, Una dearest. That I am."
"Well," sniffled Rosemary into a lacy handkerchief, "that was the last thing I expected to see you up here, but I can't think of anything I'd rather more." She turned to the grinning Jem and Jerry in the doorway. "You boys! Tricking us!"
"We wanted it to be a surprise," Jerry grinned. "I think it worked."
"Now that I have recovered," Rosemary said, "I can tell you all why Una and I came back. Susan and Anne have invited us to dinner and dessert out on the veranda, seeing as it's such a perfect evening."
"That sounds perfect," Faith said from her place wrapped in Bruce's and Una's arms. "Will you come, Jerry?"
"I'm coming even if Jem says I can't."
"I'm not going to stop you," Jem said. "It wouldn't be the same without you anyway."
"I do wish Carl was here," fretted Rosemary. "He's over visiting friends over-harbor and he called saying he was invited to spend the night, and I let him. It's very good for him...well, he'll just have to be surprised tomorrow."
"When will Dad be home?" asked Faith.
"I'm not sure," said Rosemary. "He was sitting with Eloise Johnson for the afternoon. He's been there so many times these past few weeks."
"The lady's ninety-three," said Jerry. "You'd think she'd be gone by now, having been on her deathbed for weeks."
"Jerry!" admonished his stepmother.
"She seems determined not to die," said Jem. "She's got the willpower and stubbornness of the Johnsons in her favor. Dad says she's too ornery to die."
"Let's hope God wants her home just as much as we do," muttered Jerry.
Faith hit her brother's arm, but her eyes twinkled.
It was a joyous, laughter-filled stroll the six of them took to Ingleside. Every Blythe was there except Gilbert, who was out on a call, and Shirley, who still wasn't home yet, though he was expected to return in the next couple months. Inside the spacious Ingleside kitchen, Anne and Nan were helping Susan dish up dinner. Di was sitting in her favorite chair in the Ingleside parlor knitting and Rilla was lying out on the couch poring over a fashion magazine.
"We're here, Mother," called Jem.
"Oh, good," Anne said from the kitchen. She walked out wiping her hands on her apron, and looked up and a smile broke out on her face. "Faith Meredith, it'd be just like you to appear out of nowhere with no notice! Come here!" She held her arms open. She smelled of good food and of home, thought Faith as she embraced her, with the faint scent of perfume laced throughout.
"I know you've probably had to repeat why you're here many a time," Anne said. "So I won't make you tell us until dinner, when everyone can hear. Susan! Di and Rilla, come here!"
"Mrs. Doctor dear, I've got the roast in the oven! I can't leave it!"
"Susan, you will like this more than having a perfect roast, I promise."
So Susan appeared, muttering to herself what could be more important than one of her roasts, and soon realized there was something better.
"All we need now is Shirley, the dear boy, and we will be as complete as we will ever be," said Susan.
Silence and pain came back as they thought of Walter, now sleeping underneath a white cross on the war-torn lands of Europe.
"Walter, the dear boy. May God rest his soul," said Susan, wiping her eyes.
Jem draped his arms around Di and Nan's shoulders, and Rilla took her mother's hand. "He is at peace now."
Anne gazed fondly at her youngest daughter, her youngest child, and smiled. "He is. And he will be forever missed, though he is being loved more then ever. And it's not a permanent separation...we will all be together again someday."
A peculiar aroma drifted across the entryway.
"You smell something, Mother?" asked Di, furrowing her brow.
"The roast!" Susan leapt into the air and dashed into the kitchen.
"I hope it's still fit to eat," murmured Anne.
A cry from Susan let everyone know that it was just the opposite. "Oh, for heaven's sakes!" wailed Susan. "It's ruined! Positively ruined!"
The roast was dark and overdone; Susan was not exaggerating. The potatoes were safe, and there was bread and butter, but that was all.
The dinner was still good, however simple, though Susan mourned the loss of her roast the entire time.
"Of all the times to have a perfectly good meal ruined, it would be a time that calls for a celebration!"
"Susan, I could care less about the roast," Faith said sincerely. "I've missed your cooking so much…even your bread with your potatoes don't hold a candle to the Christmas meals served at the V.A.D. hospital."
The compliment seemed to satisfy Susan. "At least I have a nice pie for dessert," she sniffed.
Gilbert arrived an hour later, as did John Meredith. Both were very pleasantly surprised to have an addition to a simple but merry dinner in the fading sunlight.
Reverend Meredith reported that Eloise Johnson had passed on. Susan said it was their Christian duty to at least appear solemn.
The evening passed quickly, and by eight thirty, Faith was half asleep on Jem's shoulder. The journey and lack of sleep was weighing down on her, and her family and friends realized it.
"Let's get you home, sweetheart," murmured Rosemary. "You must be exhausted, and I don't want you getting sick."
Jem and Faith were excused from helping clear the table. Jem caught her hand and led her off of the porch. "You know how beautiful Rainbow Valley is at twilight," he said.
Weaving her fingers through his, the two of them walked under the silvery moonlight towards the valley. It was indeed luminous and serene in the silvery light. The evening was still warm and the sounds of summer were playing in the background as they sat wrapped in each other's arms.
"It feels like a lifetime ago the last time we were like this," Faith said softly.
"I know. Who knew how hard these five years would be?" Jem responded.
"That's one of the hardest things to take in," Faith said sadly. "Five years of life have been taken from everyone."
"You'd like to hope that something like this won't happen again," said Jem. "But that seems unlikely."
"Sadly, yes," agreed Faith drowsily.
Jem laughed. "You're falling asleep, aren't you? Come on, let's get you home."
Faith laughed. "I'm sorry. I'm dead on my feet."
"We'll have plenty of time together," said Jem, standing up and offering her his hand.
Faith took it and pulled herself up. "It is so nice to hear that and believe it with my whole heart."
"I'll walk you home."
Both were content to walk in silence with their hands interlaced. The other Merediths were already home, and lamplight poured out of the manse's windows.
"Good night, Jem," she said when they reached the porch. "I'm so glad to be with all of you again. You'll never know how much I missed you."
"If it was half of how much I missed you, then I think I can relate." He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her, something they hadn't been able to in so long, but something that they'd missed to much. "I love you, Faith Meredith."
"And I love you, Jem Blythe."
She kissed him once more and reached for the door handle.
"Oh, I almost forgot!" Jem exclaimed suddenly. "I have a surprise for you. Can you be ready to go by ten tomorrow morning?"
"For what?" she asked.
"I told you, it's a surprise."
"Of course I can," she said. "Should I wear anything special?"
"No, because you look beautiful in anything."
She blushed a deep crimson. "Should I bring food?"
"As a matter of fact, yes. Pack a lunch for us, and that's all you need to do, and that's all you're going to know." He grinned. "You'll find out soon enough."
She raised an eyebrow. "I can see there's no changing your mind," she sighed. "But I'll be ready."
He kissed her again. "Perfect. Good night, sweetheart. I love you."
"Good night."
The house was warm and bright when she stepped inside. Jerry, Rosemary and Rev. Meredith were all sitting in the parlor, and Faith bade them each goodnight before heading upstairs, unpinning her hair as she went.
Una's light was still on after Faith had changed into her nightgown and Faith walked in to find her sister reading in bed.
"Would it be all right if I slept here with you tonight, Una?" she asked.
"I was hoping you'd want to," she responded, sliding over to make room. "I can't tell you how much I've missed you Faith, or how much I've missed talking to you. Letters just aren't the same as talking in person."
"I know, Una. I know that only too well," she responded, curling up to her sister and wrapping her arms around her. "I've missed you so much."
The two of them fell asleep in each other's arms, and the last thing Faith thought before succumbing to exhaustion was that everything was right in the world.