A/N: Ah well, I hate to apologize again since I seem to be doing it in every chapter, but please do accept my apologies again for this very, very late update. LMM got pushed to the sidelines for a long time. But the love is back, and so is this story!
Chapter 8 – Love and Life
"Isn't it awful?" said Faith the moment she and Nan parted with the Jensens. She accompanied her remark with a little shiver.
Nan looked half-curiously at her friend. "You, too?"
"Of course, me, too." Faith flicked a curl over her shoulder and sighed, creasing her brows in what was a very uncharacteristic expression for laughing, joyous Faith Meredith. "I tried ever so hard during dinner to…not to mope, but it was so difficult…at times I wanted to scream."
Nan let herself smile a little. "You tried very well."
"Oh, Nan." Faith stared at the path before them, ghostly white in the moonlight. "Where will all this lead to? I used to love thinking about the future…and now I'm just scared."
"I'm scared, too," Nan said softly. "Not only of the war…but that Jerry will be lost to me forever if he goes."
The last few words were uttered so softly that they were barely distinguishable, but Faith heard them, and paused in her steps. "Nan Blythe, whatever do you mean?"
Nan paused as well, her face flushing with embarrassment. "I didn't mean anything…don't mind it, Faith."
"Of course I do mind it," said Faith, almost indignantly. "You mustn't think like that. The boys will be ours, no matter what happens. And Jerry's feelings for you will never change."
The two girls shared a long gaze, Faith's golden-brown eyes flashing as of yore, Nan's brown eyes returning with the meekness of penitence.
"I'm a goose," Nan said at last. "A silly, stupid goose. I understand."
"You aren't a goose," said Faith, then she smiled, sadly. "Or perhaps all of us are. Let's walk."
They accordingly walked on in a companionable silence, neither willing to say anything, as though the sound of a single word would shatter the fragile peace that now hung over them. How beautiful, Faith thought, the old Glen was in the night; how beautiful it had always been and would always be, no matter what cruel games mankind might play in other parts of the world! So there was that comfort, at least, in knowing that there was one place on earth that had retained its exquisite beauty through the ages…that one could always come home to this place and find it unchanged.
Three years later, during the darkest period of her life when Faith had reached the end of her tether, the memory of that night, resplendent with the beauty of the Glen, would keep her from the breaking point.
"Well, good night," said Nan, when they came upon Rainbow Valley. "I don't want to think anymore unhappy thoughts. I suppose…there will be more than enough room for them later."
Faith reached out and hugged Nan briefly. "We will be strong, regardless of whatevr comes our way…won't we?"
"We will," Nan said, then added, almost whimsically, "But with periods of weakness in between."
Faith allowed herself to laugh, and the two girls went their separate ways – Nan back to Ingleside where she was to spend yet another half-sleepless night, and Faith onward to Rainbow Valley. As the latter walked down the enchanted Rainbow Valley paths fringed with tiny, alluring flowers, her heartbeat began to quicken, as it always did whenever she was about to meet Jem. Till today, she was frequently haunted with a sense of amazement at how much love she had in her to give him. Ever since the hot summer's day in Redmond when he had finally revealed his feelings for her, a dam in her heart seemed to have lifted and her love for him flowed forth, purer and deeper than anything she'd ever known before.
The romance between Jem and Faith was something that had set both the Glen and Redmond's tongues wagging for the longest time. Initially good chums with no idea of being anything more, their proximity in Redmond had fostered a closeness between them that quickly grew to intimacy. Jem, president of the student body and one of the most popular Redmond elites, liked nothing better than to spend a quiet evening with Faith in her boarding house, either talking languidly about everything and anything that came to his head, or sitting beside her with his arms thrown back behind his head as she studied. Somehow, the golden-brown eyes and dimpled smiles of his childhood playmate seemed far more beautiful than all the other Redmond socialites put together, and somewhere along the way…Jem could never pinpoint the moment…he decided that he wanted to court his best friend openly.
As Faith strolled along, she mused on the heady days of their early romance…how very dear Jem had suddenly grown…how she had watched out for his comings and goings, how his face and voice had appeared in her mind during random moments at work or leisure, how contented they had been merely to take walks or drives around Redmond. How Jem had told her that he would make her learn to care for him in the way that he cared for her, little dreaming that she had long since given over her heart to him…
She came upon him quite suddenly. He was kneeling down by a bush, peering underneath it, presumably at some rare treasure in the earth. As always, a strange instinct in him had responded to nature. She didn't know anyone else who shared such an affinity with all living things, who had so much love for life of all kinds.
Faith paused to take in the scene; nostalgia overwhelmed her so much that for a few moments she couldn't speak.
Jem seemed to have sensed her presence, for he turned his head and saw her. "You're here," he said and, with a smile, got up.
Faith responded with a brilliant smile of her own as she came forward and took the hands he was holding out. "Do you know, you were kneeling down like that before this very bush the first time I realized that I loved you?"
Jem looked surprised. "When was that?"
"During my first year in Redmond…the Christmas holidays," she said.
"During the Christmas holi…Faith Meredith, do you mean to tell me that you were in love with me for so long and yet never breathed a word of it to me?"
"How can an insignificant girl like me tell a popular chap that she's in love with him?" Faith said defensively.
"You couldn't be insignificant if you tried," Jem said. "How very selfish of you…I don't suppose you realized that if you had told me then and there, we would have had one more year together."
"No, I must confess that didn't occur to me."
"Well," said Jem, sitting her down beside him on the grass, "tell me all the sordid details."
Faith laughed a little as she snuggled close to him and laid her head on his chest. That was a favourite position of hers, where she could feel Jem's heartbeat against her cheek – quickening whenever she reminded him verbally of her love, and slow in other times, when they were simply enjoying being together as the best friends and lovers in the world.
"I came in from a walk to the shore," she said. "I was in a bluesy mood…just one of those days when it seemed as though God wasn't in his heaven and nothing was right with the world. And then I walked in here and saw you…kneeling down like that…and you were looking at the violets that had just gone to sleep in winter's frost."
"I think I'm beginning to remember," Jem said. "Go on."
Faith swatted him lightly. "You'd better," she said. "It was an extremely important moment in my life."
"I will certainly remember it from now on," he assured.
"Well, I don't know what happened then…something worked. When you got up and turned around to smile at me, I was just numb with the shock. And the first thing you said was, 'Why, Faith! Is our very own Canadian goddess out on one of her night sprees again?' I felt it then."
She felt his arm tighten about her and looked up at him. He glanced down at her, eyes full of infinite tenderness. "I remember it clearly now," he said. "You were wearing a green wrap, and your hair was down…I was thinking that you were the dearest girl the world ever had."
Faith closed her eyes and leaned back on his chest again. If only, she thought, if only this moment could be frozen in time…
"Do you think I could be that to you, Faith?" Jem asked.
"Hmm?" she murmured, loath to spoil the sacred silence with words.
"The dearest fellow in the world?"
Faith smiled, eyes still closed. "Right now I think you're tied with father for that."
"Well, I would like to remain so…for the rest of your life," he said. "Do you think I could?"
His heartbeat was accelerating. Faith lifted her head and looked directly into his eyes. He returned her gaze, an unmistakable question in his eyes.
"Jem Blythe, is this a proposal?" she asked, teasingly.
"Well…" he said. "Yes."
"You'll have to ask me in slightly more elaborate terms than that."
Jem cleared his throat and drew himself back so that the two of them were facing each other. "Faith Meredith," he said. Faith nodded and straightened herself. "I love you more than anyone but yourself can possibly imagine. If I ask you to walk down this weary, cumbersome path of life with me, stay with me through all my most foolish and embarrassing moments, and grow in failing health and misery together, will you be willing?"
The playfulness in Faith's face had vanished; her eyes were glowing softly with the love that Jem knew was reflected in his own. It took her a while to find her voice, and when she did, it was through tremendous effort that it did not tremble. "I'm willing," she said, "but you got one thing wrong, Jem. We may fail in health and grow miserable and foolish, but if we're together, life will never be weary or cumbersome."
Their eyes held; a mute promise that would last for life passed between them; and Jem was first to look away, but only because tears were brimming in his eyes and he'd no wish to cry during one of the most beautiful moments of his life.
"Thank you," was all he trusted himself to say.
Most people would probably keep the memories of their proposal as treasures, revisiting them time and again in the future to relive the sensation of joy during that brief period; but for Jem, that night was fraught with a special significance and emotional meaning that he did not fully comprehend and could not possibly convey.
All he knew was that, while lying in the trenches during rainy nights when the Huns' shelling would not cease, through those gloriously captured moments he would hold on a little longer.
