The Three of Us

179. Breaking Point

In the morning Gilbert knocked on the door of Green Gables, but no one answered.

He saw that the Cuthbert's buggy was gone, and turned away. They must have gone out without telling me, he thought.

He knew he could go in- they'd made it clear it was his home, too- but he didn't see any point in being there if they weren't. He'd come back later.

But as he started to walk away, he saw Anne dragging Walter from the barn into the house. She had a firm hold on his arm, but he was struggling to break free, in part because her grip on his arm was painful and in part because she was dragging him too fast for his legs to keep up.

"Anne," he called out to her- but she stormed right past him into the house.

He followed.

Anne's face was pinched and angry, and there were hot tears streaming down it. She shoved Walter into the sofa and left.

A moment later he heard a door slam somewhere upstairs. Walter sat on the sofa exactly where Anne had left him, his eyes wide and fearful.

Gilbert stared after Anne for a moment, shocked. He looked back at Walter. Putting one finger up as if to say stay there, he went softly up the stairs.

"Anne," he asked quietly as he opened her door.

He came in and sat on the edge of the bed. She was lying curled up, facing the wall away from him, crying, interrupted only by hiccups.

"Anne, what is it? What upset you?"

Anne refused to answer, pulling the pillow over her head and crying into it.

Gilbert did not know what to do.

He did not know what had happened. He sat rubbing her back for a moment. Finally he leaned down, kissed the back of her head, and got up and left her.

When he came back downstairs, Walter had not moved an inch from the spot Anne had thrown him to.

He wasn't crying- not yet, anyway- but his face crumpled up. Gilbert knelt down in front of him and asked, "Walter, what happened to mama?"

Walter said, "Mama mad..."

Gilbert touched his blonde waves reassuringly and asked, "Why is mama mad?"

Walter said, his lower lip trembling. "I frew a rock at da kitty."

Gilbert just looked at him.

---

When Anne had calmed down, she sat up slowly, rubbed her head- it hurt now, after crying- and she rolled off her bed and washed her face. She stared at herself in her mirror.

When she came downstairs, no one was there. Matthew and Marilla were still gone, and Gilbert must have gone too. She did not know where her son was, he was no longer on the sofa she'd shoved him into, and after looking around the house, she went outside.

She heard voices in the barn, and went silently in.

She saw Gilbert and Walter together at the far end of the barn, crouching down over something.

As she slipped in through the doorway, she saw that Gilbert was holding Walter's hands in his own, speaking softly to him as together they cradled one of the barn cat's babies.

Anne stood in the doorway, listening.

"No, don't pull his ears, he doesn't like that. Look, you can pet him under his chin. Kittens like being scratched under their chins. But gentle, Walter."

A moment-

"Listen- do you hear him purring? He likes that."

Walter continued stroking the kitten, talking gently to it, with Gilbert coaching him.

After a moment, Gilbert glanced up and saw Anne. Her eyes were puffy from her heavy sobs earlier, but she didn't look so weary anymore. Gilbert gave her a loving look, smiling more with his eyes than his mouth.

Anne came closer.

"Walter, show mama how you learned how to pet the kitty," Gilbert prompted the little boy.

Walter looked up at Anne.

The fear in his eyes broke her heart.

She gave him a small smile, and he finally smiled back.

"Look, mama, I have a kitty."

Walter's little hand patted the kitten's head and when the kitten licked him, Walter giggled.

"That's very good, Walter," Anne told him softly.

Walter leaned down and kissed the kitty on its tiny head. "Good kitty," he said to it.

Anne smiled.

Gilbert cleared his throat. "Walter, let's give the kitty back to its mama now."

Walter put the kitten on the hay, next to its mother. "Bye bye kitty," he said, waving to it.

Gilbert picked Walter up in his strong arms ready to take him back to the house, but Anne suddenly held her arms out to her son and Walter fell readily into them.

He put his arms around Anne's neck. Anne held him tightly to her.

Together they walked back to the house.

---

Walter was overdue for his afternoon nap, and once he was put to bed, Gilbert and Anne talked.

"You don't understand, Gilbert. He frightened me. I know it looked like I was angry with him. But I wasn't. ...I wasn't angry...and I wasn't sad...I wasn't disappointed in him...or frustrated at him."

Gilbert waited for her to explain, if she wasn't any of those things, then-

Anne continued, "I just looked at his angry face-  and the rock in his hand- and I hated him."

"You hated-"

"Yes, Gilbert. My own little baby. I stood there, looking at him, and I hated him."

Gilbert was about to say something about it being normal to be upset when your child does something hurtful, until Anne said abruptly:

"And then I looked at his little blonde head and I just hated him even more."

Oh, Gilbert thought to himself. So that's it.

He said to her, hesitantly- "This isn't really about throwing a rock, is it? It's what throwing the rock might mean."

She was shaking, but Gilbert didn't reach out to her. Finally he simply asked, "Do you still hate him now?"

Anne looked down at her son. His eyes were closed now, and his covers were pulled up around him, and all she could see was his wavy blonde hair.

"I don't know," she finally said.