The Three of Us

165. Holiday's Over

Gilbert was almost glad when it was time to go back to Queens.

Being so very near the woman he loved...feeling the soft silkiness of her fiery hair...the smell of her skin after she took a bath...the taste of her lips on his...

She was intoxicating, and he was drunken in her presence.

When he returned to his dorm, he began putting his things away, and found that Anne had left souvenirs:

One of Walter's toy food pieces from his picnic set was tucked into Gilbert's suitcase. Gilbert smiled, taking the stuffed tomato out of his suitcase and placing it on his windowsill.

And folded up, right between his nightshirt and his bathrobe was-

Oh

-one of Anne's nightgowns.

Gilbert did not know how to react to this. It could not be a mistake, she had to have meant it to be there.

Glancing around to make sure no one was coming into the room, he quickly rolled the nightgown up and stuffed it inside his pillow case.

That night, all the time he was sleeping, he was breathing her in, and though it did not make things easier for him, it did make his dreams more pleasant.

---

Anne missed him most tragically when he took the train, and- despite Marilla telling her she was being ridiculously dramatic- when she came home from the station she took to her bed, crying into her pillow.

"Anne, for goodness sakes, think of Walter; get up!" Marilla said, leaning into Anne's bedroom. Marilla felt a headache coming on, and was less patient because of it.

"But Walter is in the depths of despair," Anne said, her voice taking on the air of drama she'd had in younger days.

Marilla came into the room and saw that Walter was curled up in the bed with Anne.

"And that's exactly why you must perk up!" Marilla told her. "Of course he's sad about Gilbert leaving, but you're letting him wallow in it. Get up and get active and he will, too. Before you know it, he'll be laughing and having fun, and that will make the days easier."

Anne rolled over and looked up at Marilla.

"Come now, Anne. Really."

Anne sighed and sat up. Walter sat up too. Anne wiped her eyes. Walter rubbed his, too.

"Look at that- don't you see? He's doing everything you're doing! Now get up and come downstairs." Marilla left the room rubbing her temples.

Anne pulled Walter out of her bed and heaved a sigh. "Walter, we're going downstairs."

"Gil-ber," Walter cried.

Anne patted his little blond head. "I know, I know, but I can't do anything about it. We'll just have to wait for him to come back."

"Tomorrow," Walter demanded.

"No...it's going to be nineteen days," she said, miserable at the thought. "Because he can't come home right away this time."

---

Marilla's headache grew worse that evening.

The following day, Matthew wanted to fetch the doctor, but Marilla brushed that off. "I've had these before and I'll have them again. I just need some peace and quiet and to lie down and rest a spell, and I'll be just fine."

But the pain was so great that it was affecting her vision and her sense of balance, and as she went down the stairs in pursuit of a hot towel to lay on her head, she suddenly pitched forward and tumbled down the stairs.

Walter, on the floor nearby, went to her.

"Oh- did he trip?" Anne asked breathlessly, running down the stairs after her.

Marilla did not answer at first. After a moment, she said quietly, "No, I was the one who tripped."

"Are you all right?" Anne worried.

Marilla just nodded, her work-worn hands, trembling now, pressing Walter's little blonde head close to her heart.

Anne was confused by Marilla's response...she would have assumed Walter had been the one to fall down the stairs, because Marilla was holding him as if to comfort him.

The truth was, Marilla was holding him to comfort herself.

Falling down the stairs had brought to mind a moment she'd rather forget:

One early morning, more than two years ago, Anne had fallen down the stairs.

Anne was newly expecting- so new that it did not show yet, and it was still debatable if she was truly pregnant or not.

And on that morning, after rushing to be sure Anne was safe, a thought come into Marilla's mind before she could stop it:

Perhaps falling down the stairs has...solved her problem.

But right now- in this present moment- Walter was thoroughly done with being squeezed by Marilla, and he wiggled out of her grasp. "Grandma squashed me!" he complained to Anne.

Marilla reached to him again, her hands outstretched, her eyes suddenly wet.

"I didn't mean to hurt you, darling."