"Clara, what are you doing in here?" Rilla asked as she found her youngest sitting, still in her Sunday dress on the floor in her parent's bedroom. She had gone upstairs to find a doll to play with not too long ago, still home from school recovering from her latest bought of illness. Measles, colds and fevers had taken over the house and every time Clara got sick Rilla looked at Ken with this is your fault, but I'm the one having to give up work to stay home.

"I found some pictures, Mummy! Why do you have a box of pictures under your bed?" Clara asked.

"Clara, these are private," Rilla said trying to remain calm. Internally panicking trying to remember what exactly some of those old photos were. Rilla sighed in relief when she saw the scattered photos. While embarrassing they weren't the ones that she never wanted her children to see or find.

"Why are you so big?" Clara asked curiously.

"Well, I was having a baby," Rilla told her. Gathering up some of the photos that she didn't want Clara to see and discretely pocketed them.

"Was it me?" Clara asked looking up at her mother. She had enough knowledge that babies grew inside a mummy's stomach from being at Auntie Marianne's often enough. Rilla was just thankful that she was happy with that answer and not asking anything more just yet.

Rilla sighed and shook her head, taking the photos from her daughter. "That was with Oliver," Rilla told her looking over the picture, knowing just from how skinny she had been.

"What about Doe or me?" Clara asked. "Why are you in your nightie?"

"Your father likes to surprise people with photographs?" Rilla tried to explain to her daughter.

"This was with Rowena," Rilla said flipping through various photos and passing her the one that was the most appropriate. "This would have been you and your sister," Rilla said trying not to choke up.

"Is that why it's hidden?" Clara asked looking at her mother. "It makes you sad?"

"Yes, and no," Rilla said after a short deliberation. "It's more that these are private, and we like respecting each other's privacy don't we?" She waited for Clara to nod her head. "It's why we always knock on the bathroom door when it closed, or when any bedroom door?" Rilla reminded her. "These photographs are private to your father and me. We don't display them because we don't want other people to see them, or us as such."

"But you're pretty mummy," Clara said rather confused.

"Thank you, but one generally does not display photographs of such nature to other people," Rilla explained to her daughter.

"Is it because I can see your boobies through your nightie?" Clara asked her tilting her head as she asked. Rilla laughed Clara often found her way into any bath that Rilla tried to have when she was still awake.

"Yes, which is a large portion of why they are private," Rilla sighed. "Come here," Rilla patted her thighs and Clara crawled over and settled into the dip of her mother's crossed legs.

"All these photos were taken by your father because we're husband and wife we share a special connection."

"That's love right?" Clara asked innocently.

"Yes, we do love each other very much, but these photos are between the two of us. While your father enjoys being cheeky with his camera, he always makes sure I am all right with photos such as these." Rilla tries to explain. "What I am trying to say is that one day when you're much, much older than you have a right to tell anyone no if you don't feel comfortable with something. Much like as I tell you it's all right if you don't wish to hug your aunts or uncles when you're being shy. Or when you tell Daddy you don't want to be photographed when you're not feeling like your best self?"

Clara nodded. "You always say that if something happens that makes me uncomfortable to tell you and Dad?" she said picking at her sock.

"Very much so," Rilla agreed. "Now, what were you doing in our room?" Rilla asked her.

Clara shrugged, still picking at her sock. "You don't like it when Rowena goes into your room when you're not around?' Rilla told her.

Clara only shook her head.

"Well, the same goes for Mommy and Daddy's room, and Oliver's and Jimmy's room. Sometimes we have things that we don't want other people to see," Rilla stresses. "These photographs were hidden because we didn't want anyone finding them."

"I didn't mean to find them," Clara whispers. " I couldn't find Peter Rabbit wondered if he got caught underneath your bed."

"Yet you still looked at them?" Rilla raises an eyebrow.

"You looked pretty," Clara said simply with a shrug of her tiny shoulder, clutching her Peter Rabbit she clearly found with one arm. She still held the photo that Rilla showed her from almost seven years ago. "Did Cora look like me?"

"We were told you looked alike," Rilla says quietly. "You both had dark hair, and one day when you're older this locket will be yours," Rilla told her showing her with one hand while the other brushed over her daughter's hair.

"Why am I here, but she's not?" Clara asks for the first time.

"I can't answer that sweetheart," Rilla sighed. Of course, she had a medical explanation, lack of oxygen, and placenta abruption that caused her to bleed heavily. A rather large scar ran around her lower stomach as well as proof of what had happened as well. "It's just the way it worked out?"

"Sometimes it's like I miss her, but I can't miss her since she was never here," Clara tried to explain what she felt.

"You were together for nine months I think that counts for something," Rilla shook her head. "Auntie Di and Nan spent some time with us when you were born. They said that all their

lives felt like the other half of them was in another person. So I think whatever you feel, or do is perfectly natural and normal for you," Rilla said before kissing her hair.

"Can I keep this one?" Clara asked holding up a photograph this was completely decent. "I'll just keep it in my room?"

"I'll get you a frame for it," Rilla told her with another kiss to her hair. It was a simple photo and if it made Clara feel better, she would frame dozens of them.

"Why are the box of photo's out?" Ken asked quietly as he kissed Rilla's cheek as she helped Mrs. Clarke finish lunch.

"Clara found them," Rilla told him just as quietly. "She didn't find the other bunch, just a few loose photos that were floating around the top which weren't as bad?"

"I'll find a new spot for them," Ken said with a nod of his. "I can assume you talked with her?"

"We had a lovely little talk about respecting people's privacy," Rilla told him with a nod of her head. "Along with a small refresher that it's all right to say no if you are uncomfortable with something."

"I'll try to talk to her as well when she comes to the office with me on Tuesday," Ken told her.

"You will be strong won't you, you won't come back with a dozen dolls?" Rilla looked at him like she was expecting the worst when they came home.

"I bought one for her for the store if she does ask, if not it will go into the donations. Though she hasn't asked, mostly just excited to help assign toys that can help me with Christmas lists that the welfare society gave us." Ken told her.

Rilla knew Clara would go for a doll. You couldn't bring a six-year-old to see a tower of dolls without letting them have one after all. He did the same thing with Oliver and Rowena growing up until they were old enough to comprehend and understand what the event was about.

"I also think she would scream bloody murder if I told her no," Ken added on.

"She did once, and in a regular store" Rilla reminded him with a smirk.

"She's generally well-behaved in public now," Ken shrugged. "I'll be fine, Doe said she would come by after school to see the other displays and for her to help with the older children."

The toy drive had been going on for most of Rowena's life, she always helped with some age bracket, along with Oliver up until the past year. Ken collected toys through donations from wealthier families and advertising sales. Parents would sign up at the local welfare office and he always managed to acquire just the right amount of toys for the event. A special event to sit on Santa's lap, and leave with a toy to open on Christmas morning in a rented-out hall. In the weeks leading up to the event, there would be photos with the toys for the sponsors and donors who helped bring the event to life. Along with flyers for the children to look at for free.

"I'll go see what the children are up to. It almost seems too quiet right now," Ken said before kissing her before he headed upstairs.

'How are the children?" Anne said to her youngest as they spoke on the phone after Rilla had called her mother.

"The usual," Rilla sighed. "Sometimes I wonder how you managed six of us, I can barely manage three of them," Rilla said sighing. "Thank goodness, Jimmy, pretty much takes care of his things these days."

Anne laughed through the receiver. "Patience, a lot of patience," she told her daughter.

"I don't think I have any left," Rilla sighed. "Roe is growing up so fast, it seemed like yesterday she was still Clara's age. Still prancing around in frilly dresses, not complaining that she doesn't have enough store-bought dresses and complaining about cramps"

"Oh the poor dear, still so young," Anne said sympathetically. "Though you were the same with store-bought things, that green hat you bought yourself?"

"I try not to ever think of that hat," Rilla confessed with a sigh. "I was so…I thought I was so mature."

"Everyone grows up in a blink of an eye, I didn't realize how much you had grown until you told me about your promise to Ken." Anne reminded her. "Suddenly my baby was a woman with men wanting to kiss her?"

"Now I look back, knowing I was only Oliver's age and my life was already being planned out in the sky," Rilla sighed.

"How's Oliver doing?"

"Moody," Rilla sighed. "He does it so well as well, we can't argue against him because he still does his chores, and helps Gloria without being asked. He is just so hard to read at times, all I want to do is poke at him until he just admits whatever is going on, but I know that's not good for him."

"He'll come around," Anne reassured her. "He's just at that age, Beau is driving Di crazy at times as well."

"Well, that makes me feel better it's not just my boy," Rilla laughed. "How is everyone?"

"Ceci is excited to be graduating this year, while Walt is starting to decide what he wants to do after high school. If college is manageable for Jem and Faith?" Anne told her. "Deena and Maggie spend more time fighting with each other than being friends. Which Nan is disappointed at, but I remind her you girls didn't necessarily always get along. Elsie spends more time with Jack in the shop than at home to Di's dismay, and you already know about Beau." Anne ran through the list of grandchildren. "Of course, you see Shirleys's broad more than we do," Anne said.

"We do, but they visit you as well. Most of the time it's shop talk between Ken and Lilian while Shirley and I just sorta chit-chat." Rilla agreed.

"Well, I am excited to see them in the springtime," Anne told her. They alternated holidays with all the kids. Her parents visited at least once or twice a year between the two Toronto families.

"We are as well," Rilla told her as she heard some clanging around in the kitchen. "I should go see and check on what Roe is making in the kitchen," Rilla told her mother.

"Baking is she?" Anne laughed.

"Possibly? I'm not entirely sure," Rilla said honestly. "Give Dad my love, and to Nan and Jerry and the girls," Rilla told her.

"Of course have a good day dearest," Anne said, and they both hung up the phone and wandered into the kitchen.

"What in the world did you make?" Rilla asked looking at Rowena's strange jelly concoction that was chilling in the refrigerator.

"I was reading about how to use up leftover fruits and vegetables to make a jello salad," Rowena grinned. "Though mine is all fruit."

"Then why are there marshmallows in it? Is that cottage cheese curds?" She asked

"Fruit and cheese?" Rowena said with a shrug. "They said to just toss whatever you had in it."

"Well, I hope for your sake it's something tolerable?" Rilla said closing the fridge. "Though you're already better at cooking in general than I am."

"I think Clara can cook better than you," Rowena said saucily to her mother. "But we love you anyway, and we love that you don't even try most days."

"Oh thank you!" Rilla said in mock appreciation. "I'll remember that when we are decorating Christmas cookies." She wrapped her arm around her daughter, noticing for the second time how tall she was got. Rowena had been a petite but chubby child, who seemed much like her brother shoot up overnight. She leaned to kiss the top of the red curls.

"You managing everything?" Rilla asked quietly. "With all this growing up business?"

Rowena shrugged. "Can't escape it, but those booklets that booklet you found and read with me helped a lot."

"Well, I'm glad," Rilla told her. "If you have any questions never be afraid to ask and if I don't know if I can always ask someone for you."

"You wouldn't ask Grandpa would you?" Rowena said suddenly afraid.

Rilla chuckled. "Well, he is a doctor, retired or not, but I understand I often found myself embarrassed by it. It wasn't until I was expecting you I can to the conclusion that a doctor is a doctor. Though he was the one to always reassure me when I was worried about something. He was so excited to come to meet you that Christmas after you were born."

"Was he?" Rowena asked.

"Of course," Rilla chuckled. "He would spend any moment he could holding you for me."

"They spent a lot of time here with us after Clara was born?" Rowena mused. "They kept us busy but also tried to explain what was going on. "

"They did, and Auntie Di and Nan came at one point as well for a week." Rilla reminded her.

"Grandmama and Grandpa, when they were first married they lost a baby a few hours after she was born. They wanted to be there for us knowing just how hard and isolating it can feel." Rilla explained.

"It's not fair when things happen like that to families," Rowena said quietly. "How one of my classmate's brothers died of polio?"

"It never is," Rilla agreed with a sigh. "Come, I should get you to try on your Christmas dress so I can finish it for you."

Rowena nodded and followed her mother to the small sewing area she had set up in the corner of the large library. Much to Rowena's dismay, Rilla had gotten a deal on lovely yellow floral embossed silk rayon that had enough meterage for two dresses.

Rowena had picked a pattern that was a knee-length skirt belted at the waist with a high neckline. Rilla cursed over the three lines of decorative stitching in a V shape with each stitch she carefully made. Rowena's favourite part was the sleeves were made in a cape-like style. Fluttering with a small amount of smocking for detailing that attached the sleeves to the bodice.

Rilla then made Clara's in a classic style that was short with three flounces on the bottom of the skirt. Adorning it with a red ribbon under the chest and tiny puffed sleeves. In the end, Rilla had finished it off with a triple ruffled neckline. She knew her daughter would never take it off once she was given it. She had been working on the dresses intermittently all fall.

While her own had been taken by Lilian taking over, strategically cutting on the bias the dark green with yellow flowers silk so it remained slinky and skimmed her figure. A long ruffle on the edge went all up the back seam of the dress down across the hem to the side seam. The low back and fluttering neckline were high enough to make the square neckline modest. More of a dated style, but one that flattered her.

The day after Ken brought home the tree was always joyous as the children impatiently waited to decorate the tree. It also meant Christmas was around the corner and that it would soon be time for presents and carols at school and church. It almost meant that Oliver's Birthday was generally days away as well.

"Mummy I got the popcorn!" Clara exclaimed as she held the bowl of popped corn, ready to be strung and wrapped around the tree. Dressed in one of her fancy dresses for the occasion, despite Rilla telling her it wasn't the best thing to wear for the evening.

It was a cold and snowy night but inside Oleander End was warm and merry as the tree was fluffed out and the scent of pine was wafting through the living room.

"Why thank you!" Rilla matched her enthusiasm taking the bowl from her young daughter. "Get comfy and I will set you up with some string and a needle." She told her daughter. Clara climbed into a chair and Rilla placed the bowl on the small ottoman and gave the ball of solid thread to her daughter and one large needle. "Don't eat all the popcorn," She warned her daughter with a smile who was already threading the needle. Rowena was already working on her garlands of cranberries and popcorn. In contrast, Oliver and Ken were untangling the string of lights for the tree.

Mrs. Clarke who had followed Clara with her bowl of popcorn settled down into her chair. Picking up some of the fireplace stockings that seemed to have come undone over the year in storage to mend.

"I can't wait for Christmas," Rowena sighed dreamily. "Can we go shopping this soon? I have some money saved up for presents that I still need to get?"

Rilla looked over to Ken who nodded as he played around with his camera. Taking pictures of the kids decorating the tree, and Rilla of course. "I'm sure we can manage something," Rilla told her as she petted Rowena's head.

Rilla settled down on the sofa as she went through the ornaments as he snaps another photo of her to which she rolls her eyes at her husband.

"When does your daughter arrive for Christmas this year Gloria?" Rilla asked Mrs. Clarke.

"I believe she said the 23rd," Gloria replied. "I'll have to check the letter she sent to me." She said.

"If you need a read to the train station just let us know," Ken reminded her. "No point in struggling on transit with luggage."

"We'll most likely get a taxi, but I will remember if something happens," Gloria told him.

"Can I help you make the fudge Mrs. Clarke?" Rowena asked the older woman.

"Are you going to give up two minutes into beating the fudge?" Gloria said clearly amused by the question.

"I promise I won't!" Rowena told her.

"I will hold that to you miss," She says with a grin, looking at her employer who was also amused because they both know she would not last.

"Daddy takes my picture," Clara tells her father as she climbs into and sits primly in the big wing-back chair that was in the corner of the living room.

"Is there a please or thank you in that?" Ken asks turning to her.

"Please take my photo?" She asks politely and Ken raises the camera, capturing the moment.

"Why do you like taking pictures?"

"Daddy used to take pictures for a living," Rilla says from her spot automatically.

"Really? When?"

"Back long before you were even born or thought of," Ken says looking through the lens. "Smile for me Clare-bear.

"I need Peter Rabbit!" Clara jumps up in the chair, her voluminous skirt bouncing as she jumps off the chair and up the stairs.

Ken chuckles and shakes his head waiting for her, motioning for Rowena and Oliver to pause for a moment and pose for a photo by the tree until she comes bounding back and hops back into the chair and smiles cheekily for her Father.

"How do cameras work?" Clara asks him afterwards.

"Well, it's something about light from an object and how it passes into the camera through the lenses. The lenses focus the light onto film stored in the camera and burn it into it. That way when you send it in, or when I process it in the basement the photographs can be developed," Ken tries to explain simply to his daughter.

"Well, you teach me one day?" Clara asks.

"I can teach you now," Ken says motioning her to push over on the chair. She climbs on his lap looking up at him.

"You never want to open the back when the film isn't finished. It will wreck the film before you even get a chance to develop it," Ken explains. "But all you need to do is hold the camera up your eye, and close the other one, when you're happy with the photo you hit this button and it will capture the image onto the film."

"Mommy look at me," Clara exclaims holding up the camera and Rilla does what she asks.

Ken whispers in Clara's ear and helps her talk the photo, and then another of her sibling pulling funny faces at her, and another of Mrs. Clarke who was still stringing popcorn and cranberries as she talked to everyone.