Jack

December 20th, 1983

"What candy do you want, son?" Dad asks, as I examine the rows of Laffy Taffys, Babe Ruths, Hershey's, Kit Kats, Smarties, Trident, and lots more. Dad already got me some Oreos and Honey Nut Cheerios, and he might get me some Kellogg's as well.

After spending a few minutes examining all of them, I take two Laffy Taffy bars. I also take some strawberry and apple currant Pop-Tarts. On the way back to the car, Dad gets some Coke packs to take with us. As soon as we load them into the trunk, I sit next to the driver's seat. I wan to talk to Dad, but I don't know what to talk about.

The car ride is, at first, silent, but halfway through, Dad speaks up.

"How's school, son?" he asks.

"It's ace," I say. Dad actually gets us kids. Well, kind of. There are still some things he doesn't get yet.

He turns and smiles. It's a red light up ahead, so he can do it without getting us killed. "Good."

I smile back at Dad. I feel kind of happy to be around him. Especially since I don't remember the last time I saw him before this. I glance down at the silvery wrapping of my Pop-Tarts, and glance back at Dad, who's driving again. Slowly, I unwrap the Pop-Tart, seeing that there are two strawberry Pop-Tarts, I take one out and start eating it. At the next red light, I take out the other one and hand it to Dad.

"Here," I say, nudging him. Dad takes the Pop-Tart and I notice the corners of his mouth turn up a little.

"Thanks, kid."

"Bombdigity," Dad says after he takes a bite.

"Bombdigity," I echo.

Because the Pop-Tarts are bombdigity.

The rest of the car ride continues in silence, with us eating Pop-Tarts.

Aly

"Josh," I said, finally mustering up all my courage. It was dinner that night, and all four of us were sitting at the table, eating mince pies and drinking eggnog, and I was terrified of receiving disapproval for my decision. "I'm going to visit British Columbia with you in the summer."

Everything suddenly stopped. Mom looked at me with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. It was like her green eyes were piercing me with invisible razors of shock.

"Are you sure, Aly?" she said, as soon as she swallowed her food. "It's a big decision to be making."

"Here I thought she would be wise enough to choose the mall like last year," Dad growled. He was giving Josh a death stare. "Here I thought I could trust her to be smart."

"I am smart, Dad," I protested. I'd put my fork on the table. "It's just that I've gone to the mall too many times. It's starting to get boring. I can go to the mall anytime I want." I cleared my throat a little before continuing. "I've never been to British-"

"I get that, missy," Dad interrupted, hands on his hips. "But isn't the mall less far away? You don't have to stay overnight at the mall, and it costs less." He turned to Josh and said, "Mister, you can go to British Columbia if you want, but your sister is staying here." There was a hint of authority in his voice, and he sounded like he did not want anyone to talk back to him.

Not that that mattered.

"No!" I shouted. "I'm not staying here. I'm going to British Columbia. I want to do it."

"Aly," Mom said, standing out of her chair. I remember she was very upset with me. "You're too young to make decisions like this. You can go to British Columbia a few years from now. What could possibly be wrong about staying here for the summer?"

"I really want to go, Mom," I pleaded. "Please. I want to know what it's like. I've spent every summer here. I want to do something different."

"I think she'll really love it," Josh added. "She'll get to see more of Canada, and I think it'll be good for her. There are things in British Columbia you can do but can't do in Calgary. She'll only be with me in Vancouver for a couple of weeks. Let her come. I'll even pay half of the cost."

"Even Josh agrees!" At this point, I was full-on yelling. "Let me go! Otherwise I'll never talk to anyone ever again! Not till I go to British Columbia."

The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. We were quiet for a long time, and the silence was deafening.

Finally, Dad spoke. "I am still not allowing it." His glare was intense. "And that is final."

"Then you're making a big mistake!" I shouted. "I'm still going, whether you like it or not!"

I stomped to my bedroom and slammed the door. I could hear arguing between Josh and our parents.

"It's not fair," I muttered. "Why do Mom and Dad hate me? Why do they want to make me unhappy?"

That's exactly how I felt. Until that moment an hour later I heard a knock on the door.

"Come in," I said, bracing myself for the bad news that was about to come. Josh walked in and put his hands on my shoulders.

"Good news," he said, taking a deep breath. "You're coming to Victoria with me for a week in July."

"I am?" I remember looking up and feeling shock. I hadn't expected Josh to get it his way.

He just nodded and smiled.

"THANK YOU!" I shouted, wrapping my arms around him.

I don't like what I did, but I don't regret the decision.

Randall

I was sitting in my bedroom, past my bedtime, still staring at my copy of Anne of Green Gables. I hadn't opened it yet, but now that it was probably past midnight, I finally decided to open it up, though I wasn't going to read it. I didn't know why I was opening the book only to not read it.

I turned open the cover and noticed something written in Gramps's handwriting, and something else written in handwriting I didn't recognize.

June 3rd, 1916

My ma gave me this today. "Read it, John. For my own sake. I'm dying now, so this is what you'll have left of me."

Ma's dying from galloping consumption, and Pa's off fighting the war in France. All I'll have left is Mary and Gilbert, but Mary is soon going to be old enough to have a husband, and Gilbert's two years younger than me. That means I'll have to support me and him unless Maria finds a job.

John Cromarty

That was the first thing I read. The next was written years later, in 1953.

April 19th, 1952

This is for my own son, Michael Cromarty, for he is my only child. I would like for him to pass this book on to his own children. I do hope that he will enjoy the gift his father has given him.

I remember sometime after I got this, Ma died, and Maria had to start working to support us. Pa also died in the Great War.

John Cromarty

And there was a third note written.

June 26th, 1971

Lucy and I have a son. He was born five days ago, on June 21st. I remember when my father gave me this edition of Anne of Green Gables, back when I was just a lad. Aged twelve and half. I remember how it felt to read this. I felt the way Anne did at times. I was too embarrassed to admit to my friends that I was reading a 'girls' book. Looking back, I'm glad I read this book, otherwise, I would've missed out on a lot.

I'm naming my son Randall. When he's twelve, I'll give this to him.

Michael Cromarty

I ran my fingers over Dad's note. I felt a strange connection to him, almost as though he were actually in the room, sitting on the bed with me, reading this. I had some photos of him under my bed, and I pulled them out that night. For the umpteenth time, I stared at the last photo of my parents.

It was a faded black-and-white, and my mother was smiling into the camera with a huge, bright smile on her face, her light hair in a French braid.. She was holding me, and I was dressed in all white. Dad held my tiny little hands, and he seemed to be laughing with joy. I could see his dimples show in the photo. They went well with his black hair and widow's peak, which I got from him.

"What were you like?" I muttered under my breath. "What were you like?"

There will be a third chapter adding to the Christmas part of the story. I don't know when it's going up, though it should be by the end of the week. Enjoy!