Heart Attack • Shirbert

• 48 • dread, doubts, and diagnosis

"I'm..." Marilla paused carefully. Anne's mind would make anything she admitted much worse, "I'm okay, my girl."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Marilla looked at her daughter fondly, "How was your trip?"

"Marvelous." Anne couldn't help but tell the truth. Her history of lying to Marilla never ended well.

Despite wanting the best for Anne, Marilla felt a bit of pain in her chest.

She looked Anne up and down and frowned, "You haven't taken off your shoes."

Anne found the urge to laugh. Marilla wouldn't be like this if she wasn't at least a little okay.

Instead of responding with frustration, as she typically did, Marilla joined in laughing. The fact she was worrying about dirt while everything else was hanging over her head was comedic.

Anne removed and placed her shoes at the foot of the bed.

"That's better."

Marilla took Anne's hand, "I suppose you want to know."

"Please."

A knock on the door made both Cuthberts jump.

"May I come in?" Gilbert asked softly from the hallway. He wouldn't dare ruin their moment and he honestly would rather not know what was happening. But it was his duty as a doctor.

"Yes." Marilla responded. She had been awaiting Gilbert's arrival anxiously. Her priority was always Anne, but the sanctity of her health was impertinent to Anne's well-being.

Marilla squeezed her daughter's hand, "Anne why don't you go unpack while Gilbert and I-"

"No. I want to be here." Anne refused to be left in the dark.

Marilla furrowed her eyebrows, "Anne Shirley-Cuthbert, I don't care if I'm on my feet or dead on the floor -- you will listen."

Despite not wanting to be ordered around, Anne was grateful at Marilla's protest. Another Marilla classic.

Anne huffed as she stood up, "Fine."

She brushed past Gilbert, who couldn't look away from her, "Trust me...please."

"I said fine."

Gilbert closed his eyes, the last thing he needed was Anne being mad at him again.

"She'll get over it." Marilla called from the bed, prompting Gilbert to walk over.

He bent down at the bed and placed his hand on her forehead, "How are you feeling?"

"I've certainly been worse." Marilla coughed.

He removed his hand and searched her eyes, "Can you describe your symptoms?"

"Light-headed, dizzy, everything is blurry. I'm much more tired and my hearing seems to be fading on occasion." She rattled off, "Nothing I haven't felt before but I do have to admit it all is more intense than usual."

Gilbert stood, "Usual?"

"This isn't the first time."

Worry spiked in his heart, "How long has this been happening?"

"Years. Over a decade I suppose."

Marilla read his eyes and felt her body numb in fear.

"Do you mind if I give you a physical examination?"

"You think it would help?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

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