Guest: Weirdly, Rilla is actually one of my favorites - I think because her being spoiled is well acknowledged, and she makes mistakes, where the other characters don't - all the bad things that happen to them aren't really their fault. But, Rilla's still pretty self-centered at the end of RoI - I don't think that part will ever go away. Wow, Dog Friday? I have no idea where the translator would've gotten that from. o_O Haha, I'm sorry there was no kissing - if I had my way, this entire story would be all kissing all the time, but unfortunately, we have plot to work through. :) I don't want the story to be too long - I personally balk at reading stories that are really long, so I'd like to keep it (fairly) short - but no worries, we have a ways to go yet! Thank you for your review :)
Marz: Yes, it's definitely all speculation - I wouldn't want to overstep and start making definitive statements about LMM's life, after all! While we're on the topic of Jenny Penny, though, I ended up thinking about Mary Vance - it's very strange, the lack of sympathy LMM gives her, despite the fact that Mary is essentially what Anne herself would've ended up like, given a harsher upbringing. The earlier books are actually pretty good (especially given the attitudes of the time) about being sympathetic to orphans, people without a lot of money, etc - and the later books...aren't. Very odd! Re: Una, it really is sad that people - including LMM - didn't think she was anything without Walter. I think it's especially sad because Walter never returned her feelings - she didn't have much even when he was alive, which is a bummer. "[S]he doesn't get to be happy in her own right as an adult at the end of the series" - that's exactly it, and really frustrating, especially when all of the other, less developed characters get their happy endings. (ETA: I took a line here about another character out because I don't want it to be misinterpreted, since I'd have to wait a week to explain it!) I'm glad you found someone to yell about these books with! :P Weirdly, I don't know that I would call these children's books - the first one, sure, but the rest are more like young adult as they follow Anne growing up, falling in love. Oh well, they don't know what they're missing! They could be yelling about Jenny Penny with us right now! Re: Alice - you'll seeeeee, but I do like the separation of what people are saying vs. what's actually happening - so many mix-ups in these books come from all the gossiping these characters do. Thank you for the review! :)
Anon: I love shy characters so much (probably because I'm shy myself), and it was really sad that Una's story ended the way it did. The Blythes Are Quoted was super upsetting, especially when Una's lines were contrasted with her siblings' and friends' fulfilled lives. Anyway, thank you for reviewing! ^_^ (Trying to mix up my emoticons here, haha.) As for finishing, I hate finding fics I like and realizing they've been abandoned in, like, 2009, so I definitely am going to finish this. :)
A quick note! Helen and Grace are OCs; their names are taken from a list I found of popular 1900s names. Also, I messed up Una's age, you guys. ;_; (In my defense, though, L.M. Montgomery somehow made the 1890s last for two decades in the books, so...I'm just continuing the tradition of wonky math here! :P) Wiki says she was born in 1896, which jives with 10-year-old Una moving to the Glen in 1906. However, I got it into my head that Una is a winter baby, and wrote the first few parts of this story as if she were born in December 1896 (so, still 20 in March 1917). But Una is already 10 when the Merediths move to the Glen in May 1906, and it's unlikely that Una was born in 1895, since that's when Faith was born, and - well, Mrs. Meredith would've had to have gotten pregnant again very soon after giving birth to Faith, and I didn't want to deal with that math. I've reworked it so that she was born in February (it just...seemed like an Una-ish month?) and so is 21 at the beginning of this story. I'll go back and edit the other chapters when it's not 4 in the morning, which hopefully also gives you guys time to correct me if I've borked that math, too. Sorry!
(I'm also sorry this author note is even longer than my other ones. I like to talk, apparently.)
Title is from "Momentum" from Vienna Teng.
cry and smile the same
"Make sure not to move your hand if you don't have to," Una reminds Helen Clow. She has a terrible habit of letting her fingers drift, and always ends up losing track of where the keys are.
Helen's face turns red and her fingers tremble, but bobs her golden head in understanding. Still, Una knows she's going to have to correct her a few more times before she gets it. It would irritate anyone else, Una supposes, but she doesn't mind. Helen reminds Una a bit of herself - eager to please and quick to cry when she makes a mistake.
Unlike Una, though, Helen is the older sister. Grace, the younger, sits on the sofa and swings her legs, observing until it is her turn. Grace has more natural talent for the piano than Helen, but Helen tries so much harder, and that endears her to Una.
Perhaps I like hopeless cases, she thinks, and then is alarmed at her own bitterness.
Of course, Grace is also much more stubborn. When it's her turn, she hops onto the bench, then turns to Una. "May I have a harder piece?"
Una blinks. "I'm not sure - "
"I practiced all the other ones," Grace says, squirming around, much like Faith used to. "Please?"
"She did," Helen says. Now that she isn't under pressure to perform well, she is placid in both face and voice.
Una sighs. She feels sapped of her energy. She thinks she'd like to go to sleep, perhaps for the next few days. Arguing with Grace doesn't appeal to her. "Well, show me, and then I'll decide."
Grace has not lied: she plays the pieces Una assigned her easily. Some people, Una muses, would enjoy have a budding virtuoso under their tutelage, but Una can only think of how soon it will be difficult for the teacher keep up with the student.
"I'll go find something more advanced," Una murmurs, slipping into the study off of the parlor.
The Clow girls' voices drift through as she flicks through the sheet music.
"Is Miss Una mad?" Grace sounds worried. "I asked nicely enough, didn't I?"
Una privately allows herself a small smile. She likes being called "Miss Una," for no reason she can explain. But it always makes her feel a little proud to hear it. Like she's a real teacher, even though she's never gone to Queen's.
"You were very polite," Helen assures her. "Remember what Mother said?"
Una's ears perk. Mrs. Clow was talking about her? Now she is curious. Horribly so.
"Right," Grace whispers. "Poor Miss Una."
Poor? What on Earth are they talking about?
"I'd hate to be jilted," Helen murmurs. "Besides, I think Miss Una is just as pretty as Alice Parker."
Just as pretty as - jilted? Una nearly drops the big book of piano pieces.
"Mother said that Alice Parker is beautiful," Grace says, a little too loudly ("Sh-h-h!" Helen hushes). "That's why Walter Blythe went away. I like Miss Una, but - "
Well. Una has had quite enough of this. She sweeps in as formidably as she can - which is to say, not very - and presents Grace with the book.
"The songs in here are perhaps more suited to your skill level," she says, a bit coldly. She isn't upset with the girls - hadn't she and Faith childishly repeated gossip to each other, years ago? - and it had been rather nice of Helen to call her pretty - but she has been taken off balance, and the lack of equilibrium makes her stiff. "Please select a piece and learn it for your next lesson."
Grace beams - Una is suddenly reminded of Jerry, the day the teacher had let him skip a reader in class - and lets Helen finish her part. When the girls leave, Una waves them off with her best smile, and then slumps onto the sofa.
So. People have been gossiping about her, as they haven't since she was a girl. Una doesn't even have to wonder what the gossip is saying. She remembers the rumors of her father and Rosemary, and knows. Walter Blythe has been back for almost three months, and Una has been to see him nearly every day. She'd been foolish, she supposes, to think no one would notice. And now they are talking.
She presses her fingers to her eyes, trying to calm herself. What would Faith say? Faith would say that it doesn't matter a whit. So would Nan and Di, Una is sure. Who cares what people say? She can hear Faith's voice in her head clear as if her sister was with her. But even repeating those words to herself does not calm her. She hates being talked about. And that people think she has been jilted! It's a horrible blow to her pride.
And then there is the matter of Alice Parker. Una will not allow herself to think about that. It's - it's idiocy, that's all. Walter is Una's friend, no more. It doesn't matter if he and Alice are - involved - for Una only goes to see him as a friend. And if the Mrs. Clows of Glen St. Mary cannot see that, then - then that is their own fault.
To Una's shame, tears begin to leak out, dripping down her fingers. She sighs and allows herself one loud, awful sniffle as she gropes for her handkerchief.
By the time Rosemary returns, Bruce in tow, Una's managed to dab away the redness around her eyes and compose herself. Of all the things to cry over, she thinks. But then - gossip has always hurt her, the words of others stinging her deeper than her siblings. How ridiculous.
"Oh," Rosemary says when she sees Una in the kitchen, sprinkling salt into the soup. "You've already started dinner."
"Of course," Una says, keeping her eyes on the stove. "I know the Red Cross meeting was today."
"That it was," Rosemary confirms. She comes up to stand next to Una, loops her arm about her waist in a hug. "And you had a lesson with the Clow girls."
"Mmm."
Rosemary is silent for a moment, dropping her arm. "You know, Una," she starts, hesitant. "Now that the school is in its summer vacation, some mothers would like their daughters to learn piano. Would you mind taking on more music lessons? Would you like to?"
Una accidentally tips too much salt into the pot. "Like - you used to?" She thinks of the drawer in her room, the neat collection of coins. All her own money. She could do it, she thinks. Support herself, even a little bit - if anything were to happen, that she should have to. She could teach, make her own way. It would be good.
But then she thinks of Walter, of visiting Ingleside. She would not be able to spend as much time there, and - well. She wants to help him. Wants to be closer to him. But she cannot admit that.
"I don't know if I have time," she says slowly, twirling the ladle as she speaks.
"Nonsense," Rosemary says, gently nudging her elbow. "Aren't there new girls joining the Junior Red Cross?"
This is true; as the war drags on, more and more girls have been coming of age to join the Junior Reds. It is too strange, Una thinks. They had thought their little club wouldn't last a year - and now it seems they will be able to hand it off the younger generation.
"Yes," she admits.
"I don't mean to push," Rosemary says gently, suddenly withdrawing. "I only want you to be happy. And you seem to like giving the lessons. That's all."
"I do like it," Una says. A strange boldness overcomes her, and she nods. "I'll do it."
"My helpful girl," Rosemary says with a smile.
They stand for a while, Rosemary passing Una ingredients, Una tipping them into the bubbling water. Finally, she feels she must ask.
"Rosemary," she begins, feeling awkward. "Does gossip - bother you very much?"
"Hmm," Rosemary says. "I don't like people talking about me any more than most people do - but no, I don't think I've really minded since I was - oh, about your age."
"I hate it," Una says quietly.
Rosemary's hand comes up to rest on her head. "Are people being unkind?" she asks sympathetically.
Una squeezes the ladle so hard for a second she thinks she might snap it in half. "No one has gossiped about me since Jerry - and Faith - and Carl - and I were children," she admits. "They talk about Walter and - my name gets mixed in."
"Ah, my dear," Rosemary murmurs, and doesn't say anything for a moment.
"There's a war happening," Una says, the words beginning to spill out of her, like water boiling over in a pot. "I wish people wouldn't care about - such things."
"It is hard, isn't it," Rosemary sympathizes. "I think all the Clows and Drews and Crawfords - and Douglases," she adds with a chuckle, " - are very tired, and like to be distracted by gossip." She pauses, absentmindedly stroking Una's hair. Though Faith sometimes ducks her head when Rosemary goes to pet her, Una still finds herself taking comfort in it. A wave of love for her stepmother suddenly overtakes her and she feels tears springing to her eyes again. She blinks them back best she can.
"Remember when people used to talk about Carl and little Rilla Blythe?" Rosemary reminds her, and Una has to laugh, using the sound to cover up a sniffle.
"Carl was furious," she recalls. "And Rilla was upset that the gossip was putting off her potential suitors." She pauses, stirring the ladle idly. "I just wish - I could correct it. It's not true."
"People forget," Rosemary soothes. "And soon you'll laugh about it. I laugh when I think about how Miss Cornelia tried to give me 'advice' over the gossip about me and your father. Much of that wasn't true, either."
Una wipes her eyes, hoping the movement is inconspicuous. "It will be all right." Hadn't she just repeated those words to Walter a few days ago?
"Wise girl," Rosemary says, tapping her on the head. Una can't help but giggle.
"I'll start on the salad," she says, turning away and missing entirely the contemplative look on Rosemary's face.
"Everyone's talking," Mary Vance says frankly, when they meet in their usual place. "I told everyone it was pure gossip - don't you worry. I know."
Una sighs, feeling a small knot of a headache forming behind her eyes. "Oh, Mary, don't."
"My, but I always thought you and Shirley'd be the ones to make a match of it," Mary says. "Is that why you're upset? They've gotten it all wrong?"
"No, but - "
"Walter's much too old for you, anyhow," Mary barrels on, as though she has any authority on that matter. "Five years is a big difference, you know, especially with him at university - "
"Three," Una corrects halfheartedly. "It's all - silly, anyway, Mary. You know that."
Mary pauses, eyes softening. "Oh, come here," she says gruffly, grabbing Una and encircling her neck with her arm. "I'm always saying things I oughtn't. It's a d - it's a bad habit. Don't s'pose I'll ever outgrow it. Just that I'm worried," she adds. "Talking 'bout this is easier than - everything else."
"Miller?" Una inquires.
"Ah, not this time," Mary says. "He's pulling through all right - not that I'd expect him to cower," she adds, almost defiantly - as though Una would ever say such a thing. "No, my worries are more commonplace this time 'round - harvest season's coming up and people are in-sin-u-at-ing that we women might take up the work with the men gone - and I'm no stranger to work, but Miss Cornelia thinks I'm above it now, and we had the awfullest argument about it. I tell you, we haven't gotten into it like that since - well, Miller." She heaves a sigh. "And I guess I'm still worried about him, too."
"I know it's hard," Una murmurs, gently stroking Mary's white-blonde hair.
"Do you?" Mary says, and for a moment Una thinks she's been hurt, but there's a wicked twinkle in Mary's eyes. "Your beau's come back."
"Oh, hush," Una says, but finds the words give her the queerest sensation in her stomach. As though she's falling - or flying.
