When Kenneth spots his mother waiting on a campus bench his heart stops in his chest, and a million things run through his mind as he approaches her.
"Is it Leo?" He asks afraid for his cousin.
"No Leo is fine, but we got letters from Ingleside," she says passing a letter to him. Another one opened in her hand.
"What's wrong?" He asks looking at it and then her open one.
"Let's just sit and read," His Mother tells him, nudging him to sit down. Ken does only because the look on his mother's face is worrisome. He opens the envelope, the familiar sight of the pretty cursive script that says his name and date. Then he reads it, he reads the four words and the word she never uttered once in her letters before.
The rest of the page is blank, but there is another behind it.
"I need to go to her!" He says jumping up and his mother holds his arm.
"She needs rest Ken, you will not accomplish anything right now," Leslie tells him quietly. "You have school and exams, she wouldn't want you to miss them."
"I can't just…."Ken argues back to his mother before sighing knowing she was right in ways.
"Anne and Gilbert tell me that Christmas should be fine. Her arm should be almost healed physically, and the rest well, that depends on Rilla herself. But you can talk about it then when she has time to process and adjust. This is just one big thing at a time happening to her at the moment. Let her gather her thoughts before worrying about yours and how this changes things."
"This changes nothing, no one in Glen will care and just continue to talk about it behind her back. She has no one but the Merediths and her siblings who aren't around," Ken tells her.
"Ken, this too will pass but finish your semester, she told you to as well. She will come for a visit and you can both talk about it then. For now, write her back, call her if you must if you want her to know whatever you are feeling right now. You already did the one thing that could salvage any piece of respectability she would have staying there," Leslie reminds him and Ken lets his head fall on her shoulder and she squeezes his bicep.
No baby…a fall down the stairs, he could only imagine what sort of talk was going on now. He tries to call when he makes it home after his last class which he barely listened to, but the lines are down.
"Your Mother read me Anne's letter," Father says from the archway of the next room. "If Rilla survived the summer, she will survive this."
"She didn't want the baby, she was terrified of it or so it seemed between the lines. She hated the idea, she didn't think she could raise it and not be reminded of that night. I permitted her to do whatever she wished to do" Ken tells his father. "I have no worries that she will survive this Father, if anything for once something right for her."
"You mean…" His father looks at him, words coming slowly.
"Yes, if this hadn't happened I agreed to allow the child to be adopted out, because no mother is better than one who may not be able to see past the past, or a father who is just there, not knowing how he feels?" Ken tells him.
"I didn't know," his Father says after a moment. "You never said…if there is no baby we can look—," he starts and is cut off by his son.
"Don't you dare say it," Ken growls. "I didn't marry her just because of the baby Dad, I married her to keep her safe no matter what."
"All right, I am sorry I just wanted you to know that it could be an option." His father apologizes.
"I promised her safety and security and I won't go back on my word," Ken looks his father in the eye.
"Honour is a selfless thing," the older man says after a moment. "Write back, let her know how you feel, I know you want to speak to her but there is a good chance that she wouldn't be up a telephone call and be upstairs for a while."
November 20th 1914
Dearest Rilla-My-Rilla
I tried to call when I got your letter, but I couldn't get through…Mother stopped by school, to give me your letter, and stayed with me as I read for it. Though Father of all people said you most likely wouldn't be able to come to the phone anyway.
Please never feel guilty, not about that, or this. Whether wanted or not, what you lost was a part of you and that must count for something. At the end of it all? I suppose I am saying I can potentially understand why one might feel like they might mourn such a thing.
I wish I could hug you, or just tell you it will all be all right. Something anyway to let you know that it's all right. That I am there for you no matter what, that this changes nothing and I don't regret anything. Maybe this is your Persephone moment, a chance to step into the sunlight once more. Even if it is technically winter next and not summer?
Either way, I promised to take care of you, and I will for the rest of my life.
School is going well, but school has always been easy for me. My professors noticed I am more subdued and more studious than before, most have correlated that to my injury until I told them I recently gotten married. It was rather a shock for a few of them, but they wished me well, some raised eyebrows, I can only imagine what they were thinking, of course, I told them a small amount of the truth. A friend's sister was placed in a less-than-wanted situation and I had stepped up to ensure that her future was secured and that she would be safe.
Many of them have applauded my choice, but I tell them that it's nothing that should be applauded. It should have never had to happen, not like how it all came about. It made me think about many things lately about the law and its repercussions.
Mother said, that your parents agree that you should come for a visit. I do want you to see Toronto to see the city because I think it will be good for you, and us to have a moment away from the Island and for you to see if you could live somewhere else one day, but we can do that in the spring. Then maybe you can come to my graduation maybe?
We'll figure it out, either way, the trains and companions for you.
Yours Kenneth
PS, I repeat, I will always take care of you.
"Mum told me the news," Persis says coming into his room without knocking a few nights later. "How are you doing?"
"You mean how is Rilla doing?" Ken looks up from his desk towards his sister.
"No- I mean yes, but also you? I mean you were ready to be a Father to this baby and all?" Persis reminds him. "You married her because of it?"
"I married her to give her security," Ken corrects her sighing. "But if you are asking I am processing everything I suppose? More worried about her than myself right now, she reads so lost at sea confused about everything she feels and worried about people gossiping about it?"
"Is it that bad there?" Persis frowns.
"It's Glen St Mary, they pity her Persis but yet tell all her friends that they shouldn't associate with her," Ken tells his sister plainly. "Maybe this…this will give her some reprieve of it all. No baby, no tell-a-tale signs."
"I doubt it," Persis tells him simply. "We never forgave Margo for her dalliances at school."
"Margo also made her bed and paid the consequences. Rilla never made that choice Persis," Ken reminds her eyes narrowing.
"Well, I guess I will return those things to the store if I can," Persis says after a moment.
"I told you not to buy anything, to begin with," Ken reminds her, trying not to roll her eyes at her shopping.
"I was just trying to be supportive," Persis eyes narrow at the unfairness she perceived him to have.
"I know, it's just complicated or was complicated?" Ken sighs. "Rilla didn't want to keep the baby Perse, she was terrified at the idea of having to be its mother and I supported her decision. So promise me, and I mean promise me when she visits for Christmas that you pretend like it never happened unless by some random chance, she brings it up. Don't ignore her either, talk to her, get to know who she is, she likes mythology and Shakespeare."
"I'm not a child Ken, I know polite conversation," Persis snaps at him lightly.
"I know, but sometimes you forget around friends and family," Ken reminds her. Persis only shakes her head and digs into her pocket. "This also came for you as well," she says passing over a letter.
"Oh thank you," Ken takes it from her.
"It's from Walter Blythe," Persis tells him.
"So I can read Persis," Ken says before shooing her away from his room to read it in private.
November 17th 1914
Ken
I am sure that you have heard the news by now, all of us at Redmond are and were beside ourselves when Father called us that Rilla in her sleeplessness had fallen down the stairs and broke her arm and possibly concussed and so forth news. The week when Mother called the girls a week later and suddenly the things they had been making were put away.
Though father told us not to bring it up around her whatsoever unless she brings it up. A delicate situation for a delicate situation so they say. Though I hope that your proposal isn't to be made in vain. It would be awful to have you marry for nothing. The idea of my sister carrying that monster's child is sickening all the same.
What is the right answer? Is there even one at this point? A fifteen-year-old girl should never have to get married, this isn't a royal family. The Blythe Daughters, are not pawns either,
I know she surprised you this summer growing as she did, growing up as she did. Maybe if she hadn't I wouldn't have worked over Mother about the dance as I did. I know you took a fancy to her that night, dancing on your bummed ankle as you did.
I didn't expect you to propose those weeks later.
I didn't think it would get to that point she would need saving.
Don't go back on your word, don't ruin her because you think it's no longer needed.
Don't you dare break her heart? Don't break her more than she has already been broken.
Walter
As usual, if you have a moment to tell me what you think of this it is always appreciated!
Tina
