It seemed to Anne that now that school was over, her pregnancy took over her whole life. One benefit of having a bit more money was that they could have bought the baby a wardrobe, but Marilla was adamant that this would not be happening. "No grandchild of mine will be wearing inferior store-bought clothing. It's home-made or nothing for a Cuthbert child."

"I suppose we had better keep on then," Anne remarked dryly, "as it can't go about naked."

The four women, Marilla, Rachel, Anne and to a lesser extent, Dora, took up knitting and dress making in earnest. The older ladies mostly knitted while Anne with her younger eyes sat at the sewing machine, though her increasing girth made it hard to sit at the table for too long. Dora spent her time hemming patches of cloth for diapers, a dull but necessary task. Somewhat panicky Marilla spent every spare minute knitting though her hands started to throb with the effort. Eventually, Rachel settled her down saying, "the child's wardrobe doesn't have to be complete before its born. We can make more as it grows, remember."

Marilla took a big sigh and smiled up at her friend. "You know, actually that hadn't occurred to me."

While Anne and Marilla knitted the talk sometimes turned to Gilbert. Anne was still unsure how it could all go. "It's not as though I don't adore him," she said one day. "It's just this," she said poking at her protruding stomach. "How could it ever work?"

"I don't think I need to remind you, that you don't need to be kin to love someone." Anne smiled fondly; she knew the depth of Marilla's love. "Certainly, never stopped me, did it."

"No, no it never did." Anne placed her knitting down and went to sit by Marilla's side. "When I was with Roy, I was so lonely, Marilla. I missed you. I missed your wisdom and your gentle affection."

Marilla tchted saying, "fiddlesticks, Anne."

Anne leant over and kissed her mother on her cheek, "I did. I don't know how I would have gone through this next phase without you by my side, dearest and best of Marillas."

Marilla rolled her eyes but squeezed her girl back. "Yes, well. I suppose I might have made the journey over when the baby was due."

"You would've. I would have needed you by my side. But then you would have gone home and, I, I would have been all alone again." Anne bit her lip.

"It would have been alright, Anne."

"I don't know. I."

"Well, you're here now. You have us all around you."

Anne smiled, "enveloping me with love."

"We try. Anyway," Marilla added. "I suspect Gilbert will shower this baby with love as if it were his own. He won't let a little thing like antecedence get in the way."

"It's hardly little," remonstrated Anne.

"Perhaps not, but it won't. He loves you Anne; he'll make it work, if you let him."

Over the longer summer nights Anne and Charlotte had taken to spending their evenings watching the fireflies darting about from their vantage point on the veranda. Sensing there might come a time when she could do little else, Anne had sent away for some novels. "For," she had remarked to Charlotte, "I hardly spend any of this money and books are always useful." When Charlotte had replied that she didn't know. Anne asked if she could read. "There's no shame in it, either way," she'd added. "You probably didn't get much of a chance to learn or if you did, enough to revel in it." Charlotte nodded, feeling the shame wash over her regardless of Anne's words. "Well then," Anne declared, clapping her hands with glee. "I shall read to you. I love having an audience." Lumbering to her feet she fetched her old favourite. "I hope you enjoy this as much as I do," she said. "Jane Eyre is an orphan who falls in love."

"I hope that happens to me one day," replied Charlotte with a twinkle in her eye.

"Ah, um, yes," replied Anne somewhat disconcerted. "Anyway, if you're comfortable, I'll begin. There was no possibility of taking a walk that day," she started and continued reading through the first chapter. Charlotte liked it well enough, though sometimes she found her mind wandering as Anne read and she inwardly chastised herself when she came back to the present. Mrs Gardner's being so kind, she thought, and I'm off with the fairies. Her mind, in fact was up at the farm in Earl's embrace but she inwardly shook herself and brought herself back to the veranda with its fireflies.

When the light had quite disappeared Charlotte lit a lamp and they sat while the little white moths made crazy shadows darting in and around the light until it came too cool, and the women retired inside.

On one such evening as Anne read and Charlotte daydreamed, they received a caller. "There's someone coming, ma'am," Charlotte said quickly.

Anne set down the book in her lap and watched while their visitor came closer. "Ladies," Gilbert greeted them. "Lovely evening for it." Charlotte smiled but Anne looked at him more warily. "I was wondering if you might like to go for a walk, but perhaps a drive is more in order," Gilbert remarked.

Anne grimaced, "it is quite late Mr Blythe."

"Is it all that late, though? I promise I'll bring her home by bedtime," Gilbert said addressing Charlotte.

Changing her mind, Anne looked down at herself ruefully. "Ordinarily you know a walk would sound delightful, but you're right, under the circumstances…" Gilbert jumped down and assisted her up noting her new ungainliness.

Eventually they drove away leaving Charlotte to tidy up the house for the night. I do hope she finds happiness, Charlotte thought as they disappeared into the gloom, Anne deserves it.

They drove in silence for a while each acutely aware of the space between them. Despite this so in sync were they that they each spoke the same words at precisely the same moment; paused, waited and spoke again before collapsing in laughter. The ice sufficiently broken Anne spoke next. "I'm so sorry, Gil."

"There's no need," Gilbert replied. "I was speaking with Ma."

"Oh?'

"Um, yeah, hope you don't mind. I still ask for advice now and again, despite being an adult."

"Well, I admit, I do too. Once I thought I knew it all, but now I realise - ooh." Anne stopped talking abruptly and winced.

"What is it? Are you unwell?"

"No," she grimaced. "No, it kicked me in the lungs."

"It? Oh," his eyes widened. The baby!"

"Of course, the baby."

"I mean I've read about such things, but I wondered."

"It's running out of room, Gilbert. Sometimes it wakes me up in the middle of the night."

"Golly." Gilbert gazed at her stomach in wonder.

"It's quite inconvenient. Look there it goes again."

They watched a bump appear and move across her midriff before disappearing. "Oh my," he breathed.

"I'm pleased you're amazed, personally I find it dreadfully uncomfortable."

"I suppose so, but Anne you have a whole person inside of you. Isn't that rather astounding."

Anne regarded herself with newfound fondness, "I guess so."

"You guess? I've been reading about childbearing, and it sounds incredible."

"What do your textbooks say?" Anne didn't know much about medicine but she had a fair idea that what was written was far from her truth; how could any man truly understand her condition?

Unwilling to go into too much detail for fear of upsetting Anne, in some misguided attempt to protect her, Gilbert prevaricated wishing he had not ventured down this path. "Oh, they just say how perfect the bond is between mother and infant," he lied; mostly his textbooks discussed the way things could go badly wrong.

"Yes, well the reality is far from that. It's an uncomfortable and frankly messy time." For her part, Anne also did not wish to divulge the ins and outs, even though Gilbert was studying medicine. After all she wasn't talking to a doctor, but rather an old friend.

The moon came out from behind a cloud suffusing the road with silvery light. "This is nice," Anne said by way of changing the subject. "I've missed our old chats"

"Do you think we could be friends?"

Inwardly Anne panicked momentarily before Marilla's words came back to her, she added without thinking, "I was hoping for a bit more."

Relief washed over Gilbert like a blanket, "do you really mean that?"

"I think I do. I think I want more. I," she paused looking into his eyes. "I, can we just take it slow, Gil. I know you want more. I understand, truly I do."

Remember his own mother's words Gilbert nodded. "Of course we can. There's no rush."

Anne sighed and tucked her arm in his. "Thank you. It's just you know I was married before, and I thought it was going to be marvellous and truly it wasn't. I just, I mean I know you're not Roy, but I'll admit I'm hesitant."

"And you have a lot going on," Gilbert smiled looking at her stomach.

"I do. I guess I just need to get all this out of the way, but I appreciate you saying that, Gil. When you think about it, you're my oldest friend and one day I hope we can be more than friends, but right now I need you just where you are. Everyone else has moved on, don't you think?"

"Haven't they just. I came home and found everyone gone or married off. Seems it's just you and I left, Anne. Not that, left is the right word. I mean you did get married, and I got busy. Left makes us sound like leftovers, and that's not what I mean. Don't think I mean."

Anne smiled, "no need to apologise. I know exactly what you mean. Jane's gone off with her millionaire, poor Ruby left us permanently. Di and Fred are happily married. I never was all that close to Josie, as you know." Gilbert rolled his eyes. "Famously."

"Not that that's a reason to get together, of course."

"No."

"No, I love you, Anne. Do you mind if I admit that. I've always loved you."

"I know. I know you have, and I think I've always loved you back. But I was a fool, and I tried to make myself forget." At his querying look she added. "I don't know why. I can't tell you what I was thinking. I," she sighed. "I just don't know what came over me. I fell in love with an ideal, with a fairy tale, I guess. Can you ever forgive me, Gil?"

"Since we're admitting things, can I too?"

"Of course."

"There was never anything between Christine and I, as you know. But I know folks and you in particular thought there was and I, I never went out of my way to disprove that. I guess I wanted you to be a bit jealous. I hoped you might show a bit more interest in me."

"Oh."

"I don't blame you if you never want to speak to me again, Anne. It was a stupid thing to do."

"Sounds like we've both behaved stupidly."

"Some might say we deserve each other."

Anne laughed. "We do, don't we. We're each as ridiculous as the other."

The horse had come back to Echo Lodge as they had chatted, and Gilbert helped Anne back down.
"I'm so pleased we're friends again, Anne." He waved at Charlotte who had come out onto the veranda.

"I am too." Anne reached up to give Gilbert a kiss on his cheek before running inside.

Gilbert sat in the buggy for a moment wondering at their conversation and more importantly feeling the lingering sensation of her lips on his cheek before he chucked the reins and drove off.