The Three of Us

59. Getting Used to the Hospital

That night, Gilbert could not rest. He'd taken, lately, to sleeping on the chair in his father's room, in case he was needed during the night, but his father did not seem to need him for anything now.

He thought of all the sleepless nights when his father would be coughing, but now the house was too quiet and too still. His father was sleeping comfortably, but that did not ease Gilbert's mind.

He paced his father's bedroom floor, worrying about his father, worrying about Anne, worrying about this nameless baby that he already cared about every bit as much as he cared about her.

--

He was relieved that no more than a day went by before he received a letter from her. She mentioned nothing about being sick on the train or about bleeding or having to see the doctor right away, so he praised God she hadn't lost the baby.

"Dad," he said softly. "Anne is all right. She got there safely."

His dad was able to say three words: "Glad. So glad."

--

On her first full day in the boarding house, they ordered breakfast in, and then got ready to go to the hospital, because Anne was going to have her first appointment and meet the obstetrician who would deliver the baby. She did not want to go.

"Perhaps I shouldn't have scheduled the appointment so quickly after arriving," Marilla worried. "Perhaps you ought to have had a day to rest after traveling. It could be too much on the system."

Anne was happy to latch onto this idea. "It is too much. I better not go. I should just stay here."

Marila looked at her, her face conflicted, but finally she said, "Well, it's only just across the street. You won't have to walk far, and you won't have to be jostled around driving in a buggy. I think it'll work out."

Anne was grumpy, but she did as Marilla told her and put on her hat.

"Are you really going to wear that ring everywhere we go?" Marilla asked, seeing Anne take off the chain around her neck so she could remove the ring from it and place it on her finger.

"I have to," Anne said firmly. "So that I"m not ridiculed and spat on."

"Oh, Anne, my goodness," Marilla sighed. "The most dangerous place is inside your own mind. Nothing is going to happen to you. Let's go."

Anne hoped no one would notice her as they crossed the busy street. Marilla was not worried about eyes, she was worried about being trampled in the street, and she sighed a sigh or relief and said a quick prayer when they'd safely crossed.

Once in the hospital, Marilla, still holding Anne's hand, took her to the front desk. "Pardon me," she said a bit nervously. "We have an appointment with a Dr. Peter Wescott. For Anne Shirley-Cuthbert."

When they were directed where to go, Marilla had to prod Anne on ahead. "Everything will be fine," she insisted.

--

They waited a long time.

"I suppose in the city, there are lots of people to be seen," Anne commented when they'd been sitting a while. There were constantly people coming up and down the hallways.

"It's certainly not like home," Marilla said, thinking about how Dr. Carter came right to their house any time they needed him, and how quiet and peaceful Green Gables was.

Anne began looking around the little room. She poked at the tongue depressors and looked inside a jar of bandages.

"Anne, stop touching things," Marilla scolded her, just as the door opened and the doctor came in. Anne jumped.