AnneShirleyBlythe-Thank you! I am always looking forward to hearing from you and your thoughts on this story of mine. I hope you continue to enjoy it!

Chapter 19

December 23

Christmas away from home is something odd, but Uncle Owen came home with a large tree to decorate and hang lights on, and we all strung popped corn and cranberries on a thick string. It felt strange to not be home, but Walter seemed to be content with the change as he drank mulled cider, with a splash of something from Uncle Owens decanters that sat in the corner of amber liquids. I do wonder what Mother would think of him drinking but it is not his first time. I have stuck with hot cocoa, though I was offered some regular hot cider which I decided that I did not care for.

Toronto is strange and so large, I went to a museum and saw a mummy and Ken got me some ribbons that I admired in the notions store when I asked to look for warmer gloves, along with the gloves. We argued about it quietly as I had money from my allowance, and he kept reminding me that as my husband it was his duty to provide for me. I think we confused the clerk at the counter honestly. Then we ran into a friend of his as well, Peter Jackson I believe his name was. He seemed nice enough though and didn't make it too awkward about me showing up.

Ken and Persis are going on about something I don't understand. Is it reminiscent of Jerry and Nan in a way? Just less sickening? Either way, it's something about something in their lives that I don't understand, streetcars or something called the grey cup. I really don't know, but he is adamantly passionate about it though and it was rather handsome when he speaks as he does.

He's looking at me now…asking me to not move as he grabs the brownie from the table. Photographs, the Fords do like photographs.

The clock is striking ten…I should end this for tonight or at the very least talk to others.

"What happened that night Rilla-my-Rilla?" Ken asks as the fire crackles. She was curled up in a blanket next to him realizing that they were alone now. Persis had retired to her beauty sleep, while Ken's parents quietly went into another room while Walter was in the library, leaving them alone.

"What happened?" Rilla repeats him blanching at the thought. She only told Minnie the details she could not bear to tell her mother.

"Not the details, but how did-How did you end up over there?" Ken asks quietly. "I rack my brain and I cannot pinpoint the moment you disappeared."

"Oh," Rilla says quietly.

"I mean you don't have to tell me of course," Ken hurries to reassure her but she feels guilty for her part in his guilt.

"No one has asked me that or maybe a constable did?" She says unsure of the truth. "Umm I want to the lady's dressing room for a moment on my way back I stood on the dune for a moment watching the ocean in the last of the sunset sink into the night sky. I just wanted to feel the moment again. I went down to where we sat out and you talked, I just mourned how the war ruined everything. Next thing they were there, laughing and whispering in this strange way and when they saw me something made me afraid. I tried to leave quietly, but they noticed and next thing. They called out, they yelled at me to not ignore them. Pretty girls alone mean they want trouble. I didn't want trouble. I felt hands grab me and someone pulled at my hair. I tripped and fell…" Rilla says quietly. "Then I felt their hands—," she cuts herself off with a cry.

Ken does the only thing he can think of, which is to try and embrace her, to make her feel safe. Like he did for his sister over the years. This time it doesn't work and she shrieks at his touch, phantom touch and pain race over and through her veins. Her heart pounding, an ache deep in her belly for the child she never wanted or cared for.

"Rilla-my-Rillla, listen to me. You're not there, you're safe," He sinks in front of her. Trying not to appear bigger than her on the floor.

Walter comes rushing in at the sound of his sister's distress.

"What happened?" He barks, but even Rilla shrinks away from him.

"We were just talking and…. it's my fault I asked her….I said I couldn't remember her disappearing….so she told me…and then she went into shock." Ken says panicking. "I didn't mean it!"

"Give the girl some space," Leslie says striding into the room.

"Come here dear," She says calmly giving Rilla her hand to grasp. "Let's go ready a bath and give yourself a moment. You are safe remember that." Rilla hears and feels someone caresses the top of her head.

She doesn't speak for a good while, it takes a while to come back into herself as Leslie draws her a bath and in the bright white bathroom.

"Oh your poor child, such a cruel world, I hoped to never know another who would know what I have felt," Leslie says quietly handing her some water.

"What did you mean?" Rilla asks her in between sips from the glass she was handed. "To know another who knows what you have felt?"

"Simply that, I understand and my heart breaks for you," Leslie says smiling sadly. "My situation was different of course, but I know…I knew the cruelty of man."

Rilla looks up at her with wide eyes.

"But….you're so…"

"It took a long time, and Owen and I battled demons during our marriage, but we did it together because we wanted to be together. You'll learn to live more than to survive, and I know the Ken will always be there and a gentleman." Leslie tells her. "I can't say you'll ever truly forget those moments, those fears, but you will recognize how far you have come and what is good around you," Leslie says gently, brushing back a stray curl from her forehead.m

"Husbands are supposed to be kind?" Rilla frowns biting her lip more confused than ever with this information. "You mean husbands can…"

Leslie sighs. "Bad men come in many forms, most husbands do love their wives and would never hurt them cruelly Rilla, but as women were often told to submit, and obey our husbands. My mother once told me it would be easier if I just obeyed him. Lie there and think of what to make him for dinner was her advice and….I did because I knew enough to know that when I didn't, it would be much worse. Most men though good men don't…they take into account their wives' feelings. I didn't mean to make this more frightening for you, Kenneth would never ask things of you that he knows would hurt you."

"How do you know though who is good?" Rilla finds herself asking.

"You don't really," Leslie says with a sigh. "A good man doesn't necessarily make a good husband. A man that society thinks is bad may not necessarily be a bad husband. We are often told if we want to be secure in life we need to marry for the security of marriage. There is no way to ensure anything one can only hope that love plays its role and allows for a happy marriage. You should have never had to deal with all of this at such an age it is not fair."

"It wasn't fair to you either," Rilla says quietly.

"No it was not I didn't have much of a choice which I still harbour against my mother," Leslie says quietly.

"Did you ever?" Rilla asks hesitantly, hand still going to her stomach. Leslie watches and sadly, wistfully nods her head.

"It's an odd feeling to reject something so wholeheartedly, but still mourn the loss?" The older woman puts it into words for the young.

"Will I ever get over it?" She asks quietly.

"You will if you mourn it," Leslie tells her honestly and Rilla looks at her confused.

"Mourn the part of yourself you lost, because it was part you. You are allowed to mourn that girl you lost, you are allowed to think about her. You're even allowed to mourn that poor soul that came from that night because it was part of you as well. You can mourn that part lost."The older woman explains more to the younger girl. "Now do you need help undressing for the bath or shall I just come later to help you with your hair?

"Can you unhook me?" Rilla asks quietly, and Leslie smiles lightly at her helps her out of her things, and pulls the laces of her corset loose for her before giving the younger girl privacy.

In under an hour, Rilla makes her way to her given room towel-dried and in her nightgown. Ken comes to his door, but she ducks away before he can speak to her. She had just sat down at the vanity with her hair brush when another knock came through the door.

"Yes?" She asks quietly.

"Can I come in for a moment?" The older woman asks—not Ken. "Do you want me to braid it for you tonight?"

"Please?" Rilla says nodding her head.

"Owen always liked it when I wore it down, but really it's a hassle to sleep with down," Leslie says taking the brush from her. "I can only assume Ken would be the same."

"Oh—?" Rilla squeaks. "I can—."

"There is nothing to explain Rilla, I understand more than you might think. If you feel safe enough to share a room with me, son, it's not my place to make judgments. Can I offer some advice so to speak though?" Leslie asks, brushing through the thick mane of hair.

Rilla can only nod her head in confusion, Leslie quietly takes a seat next to the vanity, taking a somewhat deep calming breath.

"I don't know what your parents told you, but given the circumstances, I feel like I should warn you about something. I just don't you to wake up panicked or frightened should it happen." Leslie says carefully.

"What do you mean? What does it have to do with sharing a room with Ken?" Rilla asks quietly, brow furrowing.

"It's about men in general…sometimes…oh how do I put things delicately and not frighten you?" Leslie frowns and thinks for a moment. "Sometimes, especially in the morning, men can find themselves in a precarious situation that might seem like they are wanting something from you, but really it just can happen when they are asleep. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Rilla looks at her, eyes wide. "I don't know—maybe?"

Leslie smiles weakly. "Maybe?"

"You mean…what hurt me that night…can happen unexpectedly?" Rilla's nose scrunches up.

"Yes, but it doesn't mean that…it's just a bodily response they have at times and it doesn't mean they are thinking those sorts of things, or wanting anything from you. So there is nothing to be afraid of it if you do find yourself near enough to…feel it?" Leslie herself blushes lightly.

Rilla can only nod her stomach is in twists. It had been dark, but the light from their lantern. Knocked on the ground with them standing, kneeling above her. Ugly-looking appendages, rubbing them as they said vile things before.

Don't think of it…don't remember how it felt.

"Just breathe deep breaths. You're here, not there," Leslie tries to calm her. "It's okay, this is just friendly talk, I didn't want you to think of it, I didn't want you to think it was only a choice they made out of greed, I just needed you to know, to understand. Much like I'm sure if it ever happened, my son would be completely embarrassed by it as well and handle himself with the utmost decorum, I just didn't want you to be caught off guard if you plan to continue to seek comfort for a few hours of a sleep a night. You are technically married so there is nothing wrong with it, but the past can be cruel and I didn't want you to think that all circumstances mean the same thing. They don't," Leslie stresses.

Rilla can only nod her head, cheeks stained bright red. Deep breaths that only fuelled the horror in her mind. Leslie finishes her hair, she gently squeezes the younger girl's shoulders. "We are glad you are here Rilla, and glad that you are feeling better. Have a good night, and try and sleep as much as you can, tomorrow we can find you something nice to wear for the opera?"

Rilla can only nod her head. Reaching for her leather-bound journal she opened it once more.

I can understand why Aunt Leslie tried to prepare me or warn me. I most likely would have panicked…but I cannot repeat it ever. To even think of it…I think I will sleep in my room, even if I don't sleep at all. A bodily response? I can still—-I can't…I will sleep in my bed tonight. I swear by it!

December 24th

I woke up to Ken bringing me breakfast in bed, his excuse was that it was Christmas Eve. He never questioned my late-night visit, nor do I want to explain that hearing him snore lightly beside me keeps the dreams at bay at night. So I crept across the hall and curled up in his blankets...even if Aunt Leslie's words haunted me enough to make a barrier between us in his bed, I don't think he noticed, but he watched me eat my toast and porridge before kissing me forehead telling me that he had a fun day planned for us.