The Three of Us

36. To Tell a Story

Marilla had gone up to Rachel's to borrow a cup of sugar. "I have to make another cake," she explained. "It's Anne's baby's birthday today, apparently."

"It's birthday?" Rachel asked.

"Yes. That's what she told me. She said its birthdays are on Tuesdays, and that it's twenty-six weeks old."

"That doesn't make a bit of sense- there has to be a birth before there can be a birthday," Rachel said. "And saying the baby is weeks 'old'? She's an odd one, counting it's age from the time it was conceived instead of from the time it's born. I suppose when it's born she'll say it's nine months old!"

"Maybe she just wants cake," Marilla said with amusement. "But if she's decided to celebrate each new week of the baby's existence, that's a good sign, and one I thank God for."

"Yes," Rachel said, "Until you can't fasten your corset from eating cake every week."

--

While the "birthday" cake was baking, Marilla sat down to look over the newest mail order catalogs that had arrived. It seemed that once she ordered books on child care, she inadvertently got herself on some sort of mailing list, because advertisements and catalogs began arriving in their post, incorrectly addressed to Merilla Cuthburt. At first she had been annoyed by all the unsolicited advertising, but she eventually decided not to write to them to request the mail stop, because there may be something useful in it. Today there was a catalog of children's books.

Matthew came in and washed his hands, then commented on how good the cake smelled.

Marilla smiled at him, and he sat down, looking over the mail with her.

Anne came downstairs due to the inviting aroma.

"Are you making a birthday cake, Marilla?" she asked excitedly.

Marilla nodded. "Just like you wanted."

"What kind is it? Wait, don't tell me, I want to guess by the smell!"

Anne shut her eyes and made her way toward the oven, arms outstretched to feel her way.

"Anne!" Marilla said sharply, alarmed. "You'll burn your hands. Open your eyes at once!"

Anne stopped and opened them. She looked down at 'Merilla' with her catalog of books.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Children's books," Marilla said. "Perhaps you'd like to look and see if there's something you want."

Anne glanced down at the page. "Those are books for little children. I can read better than that."

"I meant for the baby, Anne."

"Oh."

Anne sat down to look. Feeling sure that the baby had liked her telling of The Three Bears- and with her promise to show it a real bear when it came out, because "then you'll understand the story better"- she thought she should see if there was a copy of The Three Bears, so she could make good on her promise.

"I don't know," she eventually said, looking at the prices. There were some cheaper books toward the bottom of the page, but the ones she couldn't help being most attracted to were beautiful volumes that cost more money than she felt comfortable asking for.

Matthew thought he knew the problem.

"We'll happily get you anything you like, Anne," he told her quietly.

She smiled at him, appreciating his gentle and giving ways.

Then she remembered, "I have my own money. Emily paid me last week."