₁.₀ SUPERCUT; gilbert blythe ✔

005.

But the next minute Diana Barry is waving in the distance and Anne is already running forward; only to stop at the sight of her friend being stopped by her mother, with confusion and hurt displayed in her eyes.

Marianne is quick to link her arm with Anne's. "I'm sure it's nothing. You'll have more than plenty of time to talk later."

"Hello!"

"Rachel. Tomas."

Greeting Mr. and Mrs. Lynde, Marianne takes some time to look around. It seems like all the families of Avonlea are here - at least those which can afford some spare afternoon. Everyone in their nicest clothes, not wanting to be worse than their neighbours, because that would have been truly terrible, of course. Marianne must have seen most of them at church, but she recognises but a few and is able to recall names of even less; not that it bothers her in some particular way.

The adults are a few steps ahead, leading a conversation on their own, and the girls are left alone.

"My, my. Looks like the Cuthberts have picked up a stray."

Hearing a voice of some man - no, his name is still the last thing on Marianne's mind - she looks to their side with a corner of her eye. Oh, she didn't even want to come here in the first place, but that's even worse that she expected it to be. Everyone is looking and Marianne couldn't possibly feel more uncomfortable. Rather moved too, and more for Anne than herself.

"A stray dog!"

"No need to be uncharitable." Oh, like there's nothing uncharitable about staring at someone shamelessly either. "Do you suppose they mean for her to be a daughter or a servant?"

"Doesn't she have awful red hair? I wonder if she'll be attending school."

"What is the world coming to?"

"Oh, I wonder that every single day," mutters Marianne into Anne's ear, looking at the girl with concern. She's hoping she will at least be able to distract her from all that comments - because, honestly, she doesn't really know what else to do. "Let's join the rest, shall we? Anne?"

But it's too late already. The unpleasant gossip seems to be coming from every direction and there's no way Marianne could shield Anne from hearing it.

"You're a little orphan. You lived in a trash can." Two children, one of which Marianne recalls seeing with the Barrys before, run circles around her and Anne, singing an offending rhyme. "Garbage girl! Garbage girl!"

Marianne thinks that a shame should be put upon their parents - upon all of them, in fact - but outside she is stunned. Shame on her too, perhaps, for not doing anything to support Anne; the redhead girl yanking her arm back and running in between the nearest trees.

Marianne can hear Marilla calling Anne's name behind her back. She can hear her saying, "I'll go" to Matthew and the Lyndes. And she still does nothing.

Shame on her indeed.

🌼

Marianne avoided looking Anne in the eye all the way back to Green Gables.

She did catch a little glimpse though, when Marilla came back to the picnic, the redhead girl close at her side. There were tears lingering in her eyes and her hair tousled, and yet she seemed better somehow. Marianne couldn't quite place it, couldn't quite point out what has altered. Like when she used to spend whole days creating and changed something in her drawing, instantly making it appear more, without realising what it was exactly. Still, there it was now - some link of understanding between Anne and Marilla, which Marianne was glad to acknowledge.

They didn't stay at the picnic after the incident. With a quick goodbye to the Lyndes (Mrs. Rachel still muttering something about decency under her breath), they settled for Green Gables and, some time later, were all happy to see themselves back.

It was then that Marianne forced herself to approach Anne at last. Fighting the anxiety by fiddling with her fingers, she half-expected the redhead girl to turn her back on her. Now, she finds herself clutched in a tight hug, more surprised than uncomfortable.

"Umm... Anne?" Marianne speaks up as softly as she can, not wanting to ruin the moment completely. "I'm sorry, but you're kind of crushing me..."

Anne loosens her arms the moment Marilla's voice reaches them, "Anne! Please come down to the parlor. And bring Marianne with you."

"Yes, Miss Cuthbert!"

They look at each other before leaving Anne's bedroom, the redhead girl being the first one on the stairs.

"And 'Marilla' is just fine."

"What do you mean?"

"You may call me Marilla."

"Oh," Anne sighs in understanding. Marianne doesn't see her face but she is sure it's brightened by happiness. "May I call you Aunt Marilla?"

"You may not!"

Marianne cannot help but smile listening to their conversation. "Even I don't call Marilla aunt," she whispers to Anne. "Neither does Edward, in fact. And she is our aunt."

"Well, speaking of names." Marilla leans them into the room where Matthew is waiting, still in his smart clothes. "We'd like you to sign this and take ours. If the idea appeals to you."

"I've got the pen. It's all ready for you."

"This is your family Bible."

With all her strength, Marianne tries to ignore the name of her mother written in the family record; from where she stands, it's impossible to make out the letters forming 'Martha Cuthbert', but it's enough to know that they are here, just above her and Edward's signatures from a few months ago.

Though, and she notices it with a great surprise, the sadness isn't enough to obscure the warm feeling in her heart at the sight of Anne; the redhead girl excited and touched enough to make her tears spill and her hands shake.

"Anne... Cuthbert," finishes Anne, straightening herself. "Oh, I should add the Shirley. I'll do it all over."

This time Marianne chuckles out loud.