It was the summer season of 1920. There were a lot of weddings in the Glen that summer, but not a Blythe-Meredith one, dispite all speculation. Rilla Blythe walked with eager glimmering features, as she had cause for it, in her finger was Ken Fords ring, and old heirloom it was rumoured to be.
Some denizens of Glen were perhaps eagerly waiting for second Meredith-Blythe wedding, that would be a proper one, as Faith and Jem had flaunted all convention and respectability and got married last autum, in Kingsport, some town hall or another. When the news had broken, venerable matrons of Glen had sniffed and remarked, " That doctor to be, young James was never one for church, unlike others, and Faith Meredith has always been firebrand, pig riding or no pig riding."
Susan Baker only looked all those curious gossiping souls, and what a slightly disapproving look it was, as she noted, after Laidies Aid meeting, to Anne Blythe, " Those old peahens. You know when the telegram came, of those nuptials, we were all a little confused, because of course we would have liked to be present to share their joy, but I couldn't admit that there might be any point in those talks. Has Nan told you about the plans?"
Anne's gray-green eyes were dreamy as she replied to Susan, "I think that her and Jerry's wedding will be exactly like theirs. Set perhaps in some natural setting or some beautiful church that time has forgotten, there wouldn't be any fuss, and it might still happen."
Susans silence had an aghast quality. But then she rallied and noted with her usual wim, "Fortunately, Cornelia Elliot is not here, for such talk does not suit your dignity. Forest wedding, how pagan."
Anne's laugh sparkled with silver, as she replied gently, "Susan, Susan, my words were just motherly intuition. I think you can be happy with the plans, it can be such a joyful wrangle, all of it."
Carl Meredith, looked up from his fly baits, which he was hooking a line, as a shadow approached him, it was Shirley. A small pond near the Glen glistened in the golden afternoon sun.
Shirley placed a folded piece of paper in front of Carl, it had a copy of a painting on it, was The Great Red Dragon and the Woman Clothed with the Sun, by William Blake. And looking at that manifestation of power, terror, and transformation, but also of ancient love, warning, and faith, Carl casually quoted the Book of Revelation in musing tone of voice those well known lines.
There were only the chirping of grasshoppers in the grass and the slightly honeyed scent of clover flowers.
Shirley broke the silence by saying, "Isn't quoting Bible verses more Jerry's way, at least it used to be?"
The light sparkled in Carl's hair, and in his profile, as Carl lifted his shoulder cautiously, as he continued, "When I returned here, from there amidst the mud and horrors. I found myself seeking solace, in books and the details of nature, the living variety, but those Blake paintings don't give it, or at least not completely, they give me chills, their colors and atmosphere, but there is also ancient truth, but of course Jerry could explain it better, but all I know is that Apocalypse makes more sense to me now, after trenches, even if my faith is nebulous."
Shirley nodded.
Carl noticed that Shirley was affected a little, as he sat extremely straight in the grass, his shoulders stiff, and at that moment Carl had an inkling of Shirley's war, for Shirley was as if curled up, but not, as if invisible cockpit of a plane was all a round him.
A dragonfly flew into Carl's open palm, its translucent wings quivering in the light, and its streamlined body was greenish blue, like a metallic airplane, with a soft sigh Shirley watched it fly away. Thoughtfully he continued, "I expected Una to come to Redmond, but she didn't."
At those words, slight calm smile was wiped from Carl's tanned features, as he nodded and said, "There was quite big brouhaha, about it, even Rosemarys gentle, persuasive coaxing, didn't help, I don't understand why Una didn't take that chance, and it's not over yet, either. Faith is staggered, as is Jerry too, in his own way. The only thing she agrees to say about it is that she thinks that she doesn't feel comfortable in Redmond."
Shirley, thoughtfully tilted his chin, and watched as the water sparkled, as he mused, " Shall I talk to her, though I don't know what my words would do, if Una has made up her mind." Carl's features lightened enchantingly, as the familiar light mischievous smile lit up his eye, as Carl shook Shirley's hand, in wordless agreement.
A little irritated, Una Meredith noticed that her apron was covered with flour stains, as Shirley Blythe's tall figure sat with his long legs straight, something of steely, self-assuredness still in his being, that quiet, sure efficiency, in the Manse's calm, well-ordered kitchen, as he remarked, with neutral tone, " Did you made berry tarts from the first berries, I suppose?"
The narrow plates gleamed, in the cupboard, they were almost the only survivors of late Cecilia Merediths old tableware, and Great Aunt Martha's handling, Una's gaze skittered over them, restless as she half nodded, and said, "How did you know?"
A sudden smile lit up Shirley's often so serious, even grave features, as he said simply, "That's what I would do. Una, I shall be honest now. Redmond is not a bad place, it can be peaceful too. You could find there all sorts."
Una looked at Shirley, in silence.
Una didn't flare, like his sisters might have done, nor did she brood, not quite.
Instead a softly wry smile rose on her lips, as Una stated, " Carl, wants me to come to Redmond, and now he has enlisted that you persuade me."
Shirley, shook his head, lightly, as he noted, "No, I think he wants to see you happy, and flourishing. Redmond might be one path, but there are others too."
Una's silence this time had a thoughtful tone, and Shirley let it linger, appropriately.
The chair creaked against the floor, suddenly. Una got up and placed a plate of berry tarts on the table.
Irene Howard narrowed her eyes as she saw Shirley Blythe's recognizable figure walking down the Manse Hill.
As summery days flew by, Shirley Blythe was seen over Manse with almost clockwork regularity, slowly whispers and speculation began to circulate in certain houses in the Glen.
Cornelia Marshall Elliott held Mary Vance Douglas' first child, sweet little Cornelia Una, as she mused aloud to Mary Vance, "Mary, has Una told you any news lately?"
Mary Vance, laughed as she replied, " If you mean a possible engagement, or an understanding between Una and Shirley, I can tell that Una keeps her silence on that matter, but I think something is bothering her, but I haven't lured it out of her yet, but then I again, she does keep her heart close. She can be quite deep."
A pair of swallows flew in the evening sky, as Una Meredith looked at a gravestone in Lowbridge Episcopal Cemetery, and clasped her hands together, they shook, as she whispered, "Alice, Alice, you always understood me, in your own way. I miss our moments together, when we sat and made music together at parlor of Dr. Parker, or at the Manse. I especially remember your particular taste of whimsy. Shirley's words are right, as well as my siblings. I know that my family cares and wants the best for me. But Redmond is a door I fear to enter. I'm not like others, the quiet life suits me, I think, but maybe I should try it."