Anne Shirley Blythe-Happy new year to you as well! Rilla really has began to take to Jim's is its fun to write her as such. It's a good sign in many ways. Ken is a good guy, a bit dense at time obviously when it comes to certain things, but he definitely made up with it finding her some chocolate! and reminding her that she is so much more than what she feels like most of the time, and hasn't ruined his life.

I hope you continue to enjoy this!


March 10th 1915

Dearest

You would have frightened me as well if you went out for errands and weren't back by the time stated. I know not every circumstance is the same as before, but it would have been unsettling all the same. All that aside, it makes me smile that you are talking to the little chap you write so often about. I hope that I can meet the little man who has stolen your heart already, maybe when I visit once I graduate?

You know I think you would make a fine mother Rilla. When the choice is yours and yours alone
I hope I am not too forward in thinking that, I don't want you to think I am being presumptuous or expectant of such things.

Classes are going well though, some interesting readings and papers to write. I started going to football practice again. I just to build up some stamina and get my ankle in ship shape now that it's finally not bothering me. It took a while but I can run on it these days without a twinge.

I wish I could tell you that I would stay, I wish I could promise you that it's not in my blood the need to do something for my country. For you also, because if I can right any wrong I can in your honour I will Rilla-My-Rilla. Because there are horror stories about the German Soldiers when they take over villages and towns…and it's not pretty.

I love that you are writing though, even if it is just everyday life. It's something that, after everything normalcy is needed. Though I come from a family of writers, writing has always been presented in a way that was needed for the soul. It can make a problem look small if you write it down and look at it a few times. It can help you process and think differently at times.

Time for homework, but remember, you are never a sacrifice.

Your Kenneth

PS I hope you are liking the necklace.


(Arrived Mid-March)

February 18th 1915

Rilla

I heard through the grapevine you went to Toronto for the holidays I can only imagine how amazed you were with such a large city. I remember you looking around Redmond at my graduation when you were in Kingsport with Mom and Dad.

Dad wrote about the fall though and I hope you are well, you sound well and you wrote me three times in January, which speaks volumes to me. You're a brave duck, and I know it's a long road but it's nice to see subtle changes in your letters. Still, as your brother, I am relieved that whatever came from that horrendous oversight of my own doing has come undone.

I hope Ken was a gentleman, and I hope he was smart enough to get you something nice for Christmas. I had arranged before leaving to have something pretty sent to Faith, though I am sure Ken knows enough to do so. If not I'll send him a letter and make sure he knows he owes you something.

Jem


The winter weather, slowly fades to warmth and spring, melting the snow and allowing Rilla to venture out more. At least in the yard, but it also allowed Minnie to walk over with Little Jim's without getting him cold.

At first, it was strange to have them over, but soon enough it felt as normal as could be. Picnicking in the garden and playing with the baby who kept babbling about rolling in the grass. While sleep still evaded her, sleep was elusive and taken at random times, but she tended to smile, she sometimes even laughed out loud much to her parent's relief. Even if she had days that she barely left her room or her bed, she had good days which meant in the grand scheme of life, she was slowly healing.

"You need some new things Rilla," Mother comments as she tugs on the sleeve of Rilla's blouse. "Why don't we go into town and do some shopping this weekend? We can look at new dress patterns, or separates?

Rilla looks up from her stirring on the teapot. "If you think it's necessary?"

Mother nods her head, running her hand down her long plait. "You need some new summer things, no time like the present. I'll talk to your father and see if he can join us, if not we can have a girl's day."

Rilla nods her head and moves to bring the teapot to the tray.

"Are you going to stay?"Mother asks quietly and Rilla can only shake her head. She didn't want to be anywhere near the older ladies of Glen St Mary. "Enjoy your afternoon then, but don't be afraid of them dearest, they won't say anything in this house."

"I know, but I rather not be in their gossip later," Rilla says quietly. "I'll bring in the tea and then go write to Ken and maybe look at patterns in the lady's journal to see if there is something I like for a dress."

"Very well," Mother tells her and walks behind her as Rilla bravely walks towards the living room. The chatter stops when she enters and sets the tea down, nodding her head to the older women who look at her like some zoo exhibition. The slender flat curve of her waist, and long skirts. She stands up straight, trying to focus and think of Kenneth's words for strength before kissing her mother's cheek and leaving the room.

She sinks onto her bed with a sigh and picks up the magazine first, looking at the articles about styles of the year. For the first time in a long while she felt excited about new things, she just hoped her mother would allow her to choose her things.

It ends up just being the two of them catching the morning train to Charlottetown, Shirley meets them at the station but mainly leaves them to their shopping after tea.

"Can you make something like this?" Rilla asks pulling out the drawing shyly at the counter.

A black and white striped skirt, red vest with black and white sheer blouse.

"Rilla," her Mother says in surprise or shock. "Shouldn't you…"

"I have plenty of white dresses…I just want something different," Rilla says quietly. "Please, Mom?"

"If that is what you want?" Mother says after a moment looking to the sales ladies who go to look at the bolts of fabric. Striped cotton silk for the skirt and belt, a red faille for the waistcoat bodice and peplum and edging on the cuffs of the sheet black sleeves, with lawn and lawn for a blouse underneath with a frilly collar.

"We have a parasol that will match wonderfully." The sales girl says when it was all decided she brought out a chevron parasol that went with the stripes of her skirt in a similar fashion.

"How much?" Mother asks, but Rilla is already pulling out her money from her bag. Money Ken had seemingly hidden away before she left with the note to buy something that makes her happy, anything frivolous to make her smile. "Ken…" she explains to her mother raising eyebrows. She fingers the rest of it and looks over to the hats, catching the sight of a green one.

"Rilla that is exorbitant," Mother whispers looking at the price.

But the green velvet called to her, the colour reminded her of her old hat.

"I'll wear it until this war ends," Rilla tells her not wanting to set it down. "Plus Ken gave me money….and it's still cheaper than the hats I saw in Toronto. So much Mother," Rilla pleads to her. "He told me to spend it on something frivolous, and said if I felt guilty he would just donate the same amount to the Red Cross or something."

"Rilla," Mother says once more, but sighs. The last thing the young woman needed was to feel shamed more than she most likely did, and really if Ken didn't care what Rilla spent the money on…was it really her place now?

"It's your choice, and if not from your allowance then I can't say?" Mother says leaving it to her daughter.

Rilla looked at it, and quietly counted coins and bills that she had left from Ken.

"I can dye one of my old ones black or red to match the new dress and remake it a bit, and then it will be like two hats for the price of one," Rilla tried to make a reason for the purchase beyond her vanity of knowing the green with set off her hair and complexion. In the end it was packaged up, and her mother said nothing more about it. Father raised his eyebrows at it, but hearing it wasn't his money shrugged his shoulders went on his way, Kenneth Ford would learn eventually that pretty things cost a pretty penny. Though he hoped that her raised his children to know the value of the coins he gave them, and much to her word. Rilla re-worked her old hats and made them fashionable again with things around the house.


April 12th 1915

Dear Kenneth

Mother took me shopping this weekend for a few things, I got a new dress. Nothing Mother would ever pick out for me this is for sure, but I saw it in a magazine and fell involved with it and she let me have it made up. It took about a week, and then I got Minnie to take a photo of me in it for you. The dress has a striped skirt, but the waist and bodice are a rather bright red, with sheer black sleeves, a white blouse for under it, with lace lapels on the neckline of the bodice waistcoat…if that makes sense. Of course, it will make more sense when you see the photo of it.

Mother is a bit put out though, I found the money you hid away in my bag, though really going through a lady's purse Kenneth? I just a kid, anyway I did what the note told me to. I bought a new hat. Mother thought it was absorbent and unnecessary considering the war, but it wasn't from my allowance so she relented and said it was on my conscience, I won't tell you the price of it, but it was still half the price of the one hat that Persis got for Christmas, and I still have a few dollars left at the end of it all as well.

They are putting on a fundraiser soon for the war effort, Mother is helping out occasionally. It's a big bash for all ages. Father asked if I wanted to go with them, saying it be more than fine with them around and he would even dance with me like old times….and Shirley would too. I told them I wasn't sure…or ready for such a thing and he said of course, but didn't want me to be afraid forever. Even with them around…knowing that…well it doesn't make it easier.

A part of me wants to walk to the lighthouse…but I just can't seem to do it. Even Minnie offered to go with me, but I got to that fork in the road and I froze. Every time… I run away from it as anxiety and panic bubble up within me. It makes me feel weak…that I can't…that I can't manage such a simple thing…

I need to go do some chores now, the mail just came and the photos arrived, so I wanted to write and quickly and catch the mailman. I didn't mean to turn this into a letter about how I feel about the opening underworld.

Your Rilla.