( until further notice this book is on hiatus )
Irene Hazel Williams was known for her rather proper ways. She is tragically beautiful and lives her life how her mother wishes her too. Irene was considered intelligent, prim, and absolutely stubborn...
¡Ay! Esta imagen no sigue nuestras pautas de contenido. Para continuar la publicación, intente quitarla o subir otra.
★·.·'¯'·.·★ Return To Avonlea ★·.·'¯'·.·★
Irene Williams had only been away for a week, maybe two. She had lost count after day four on her mourning vacation she spent at her aunts' house. Her father, Edward, thought it would be good for her to mourn in the likes of other women who had been close to her mother, Mary, before she passed. He excused her from the housework she would have to take over and let her be. She was thankful for it, but missed home. It had taken a small amount of convincing and few letters to her father begging, but soon he had agreed to buy her train ticket home. After packing her bags and riding into town she had caught the next train to Avonlea and sorrowfully rode it home.
The train had left the Avonlea station, as well as Irene. Her ankles were crossed and her bag sat in her lap, both hands on the handle, and her eyes straight forward, only moving when other people walked in to collect the other ladies who had sat in the waiting room. "Irene, I'm to take you home. Edward was much too busy to even think of leaving, today." Her caramel colored eyes moved to look at a man she had known as Thomas Lynde. He didn't look well, but he didn't look terrible. Someone in between that made Irene fear that Miss Rachel Lynde would soon be alone. None-the-less, Irene stood with a smile and let Thomas take her bag.
"How has Avonlea been?" Irene asked as she climbed up into the carriage, taking her bag back from Thomas. She knew Thomas would know most, his wife was a terrible gossip that did good to make sure her nose could wiggle it's way where ever she thought appropriate. "It's been well." He replied as he joined her, urging the horse forward. "Marilla and Matthew have been taking care of a little orphan girl, Anne. She's already made quite the impression on Rachel." Irene laughed at that, remembering the first time she had met the older woman. Her mother had brought her by the Lynde household in hopes she'd make friends with one of their many children. Instead, Irene's stubborn mouth got her in trouble and she spent the next few weeks working her harsh words off by helping Rachel with whatever she needed.
Irene nodded, "That's lovely, I hope Anne is enjoying herself here." The brunette girl was quite mature for her age. Most of the girls in Avonlea were. It's how they were raised. Most thought Irene was much more mature due to the friends she had held close to her heart. Priscilla Andrews had somehow weaseled her way into Irene's stubborn heart and earned both the girls a terrible title within the school, but Irene didn't mind. People were going to think what they wanted, she had to admit, even she didn't like Prissy at times, but she was someone Irene was happy to have around.
Other girls within the school, namely Josie Pye, weren't really fond of Irene. Josie had said on several occasions that she was a show off that most likely would never marry, she had only become more agitated when Irene told her if she were to marry if would be one of Josie's past husbands, just to spite her. That got her in trouble with the Pye family, but Irene's mother had laughed and offered a couple days of no chores to do as she wished.
"Oh, I think she is. She seems very lovely. I think you two will get along well. Do you plan on going back to school?" Irene nodded at the question, moving as they slowed near her house. "Tomorrow. I'll be joining them once again. I must catch up. I'm sure the other girls have almost passed me in their studies." Irene climbed down, smiling at Thomas. "Thank you for the ride. It was very much appreciated. Tell Rachel I said hello." She waved to Thomas and walked off.
The pathway to her house was short and led her straight to the white painted front door. Pulling it open and entering the house, Irene felt a wave of relief wash over her. Her father hadn't touched it, other than light cleaning. Her mother's quilts still hung over their chairs, the table still had four seats, the dishes and silverware were neatly placed away, and the door to the, now unused, tea room was still tied shut with the light pink ribbon, keeping the door from slamming when wind blew through the house on a hot day,
"Irene Hazel, is that you?" Her father's voice rung out and she grinned, dropping her bag and following the voice out the back door that lead to a wonderfully tended to garden that she and her father had worked hard on keeping. "Yes, I'm home. Thomas Lynde gave me a ride. Told me about the new addition at the Cuthbert house." She informed him, standing far enough that she didn't get the bottom of her dress dirty, but close enough she could see her father.
He had the same dark hair she did, a circular face that had salt and pepper scruff littering the bottom half. He had dark blue eyes that changed to grey in certain lights, and he stood tall and fit, from years of hard work. He was sweet and stubborn as well. He had asked her mother to marry him, every day for two years, he wouldn't let up. Her mother soon realized that's why she loved him and took his hand. She had said she only ever regretted not saying yes sooner.
"I'm going to go settle back in, then I'll help you." Irene explained before heading back inside to do as she had said.
The stairs were just to the left of the front door and led to a few bedrooms. One was a guest bedroom, kept neat and warm for important people who stayed with them. One was the largest room, holding the bed that her father sleeps in and all of the belongings he had and decided to keep from his late wife. The last room was Irene's. It fit her well, not too big, not too small. Upon opening the door she was greeted with her bed, sitting in the middle, against the wall with a small table on the side. Her window had a seat built into it, and sitting on it were books and jewelry, a dress she had taken from her mother's things, and a cushion. That was her go to spot to sit when she was reading. It was peaceful and the way the sun shown down through her window made everything feel like magic.
She had done just what she had said. She unpacked, made her room, changed her clothes, and tended to the garden with Edward. That took all evening and soon they were inside and she had cleaned up and made food for the both of them after Edward sat the table. They discussed everything the both of them had missed in each others lives before Irene was sent to bed, the thought of school in her head. She wasn't sure how everyone would react. She wasn't well liked and didn't have many friends who would greet her like she had been gone for years. She might get a 'welcome back' from Prissy or something crude from Billy Andrew, but not much. Normally, this kind of thing wouldn't bother her, but it was different now. Everyone knew she was mother-less, they knew she had left to mourn in peace, they knew she was going to be left without a woman figure in her life and she wasn't sure how everyone would react.
