~𝒜𝒹𝒶~
Carnation. A flower. Meaning, fascination, distinction and love. The love aspect of carnation meaning includes everything from a mother's devoted love to a suitor's passion for his bride.
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The warmth of the kitchen envelops us as Gilbert and I find ourselves engaged in small talk as I feed Delphine. "She's growing so fast," I muse.
Gilbert smiles, a mixture of joy and concern in his eyes. "Yeah, she is."
"Who do you think she will be more like?" I ask as I turn her over to burp her.
He shrugs. "I reckon that she will be caring like Mary, and silly like Bash. Looks wise—" He takes in a sharp breath. "Let's pray she doesn't take after her daddy." He grabs a ladle and scoops up his concoction he has made in the pot. He walks towards me and asks me to try a bite.
I oblige, blowing on it before taking the spoon into my mouth. The flavors dance on my tongue, though I can tell if it is good or not. Curious about the dish Gilbert concocted, I raise an eyebrow. "What's this creation you've whipped up, Blythe?"
He grins, a hint of pride in his expression. "It's my attempt at a breakfast casserole. I'm just trying to mix things up a bit."
"You made a casserole in a soup pot?" I ask making his eyes widen. I take another cautious bite, considering the flavors. "Not bad, but a pinch of salt might enhance the taste. And maybe a touch of herbs for some extra flair."
Gilbert nods, appreciating the feedback. "Good suggestions. I thought I better try something new since according to everyone I am an awful cook."
"You're not awful, Blythe." I stand up with Baby Della and pretend to make her say, "You're just not as good as Ada Wayda." I make her tiny fist hit his shoulder. He chuckles before grabbing her little hand.
"Thank you for your input, Delphine." He gives me a teasing look before grabbing her from me.
As we engage in casual conversation, the intensity of the argument from the next room lingers in the background. Our conversation takes a sudden turn as we overhear raised voices from the other room. Sebastian and Mary are in the midst of a heated argument about her son, Elijah. The weight of the situation hangs in the air, and Gilbert and I exchange knowing glances.
"I hate seeing them like this," Gilbert admits, his gaze fixed on the doorway. "Especially with everything that can happen."
I nod in agreement, my heart heavy with the shared burden of witnessing our friends facing the challenges brought on by Mary's illness. "It's hard on everyone. Sebastian is just trying to cope with everything, and Mary..."
We fall into a moment of contemplative silence, acknowledging the strain that Mary's sickness is placing on the entire household.
"It feels like everything is falling apart," I confess, my eyes returning to Delphine, who seems unaffected by the turmoil around her. "I'm glad you won't remember any of this, sweet pea."
Gilbert reaches over and gently brushes my shoulder. "It will all work out, somehow."
I muster a feeble smile, finding comfort in Gilbert's steady presence. "I know. It's just... overwhelming. I never anticipated things would unfold like this. I can't help but regret the time I spent in Paris, missing out on precious moments with Mary—"
"Ada, if Mary caught wind of your thoughts, she'd scold you into silence," he interrupts, offering a reassuring squeeze to my arm. "Make the most of the time you have left with her."
The door to Mary and Sebastian's room opens and Sebastian calls for Gilbert. He gives me a sympathetic look before handing Delly back to me.
I cradle Delphine in my arms, stepping outside into the fresh air. The sun casts a warm glow on the surroundings as I make my way to the familiar willow tree. With each step, memories of my mother flood my mind.
"Delphine, this tree has seen generations of laughter, stories, and tears," I murmur to the baby. "My mother used to sit here and share tales of our family, just like I'll do for you." I settle beneath the willow, the gentle rustle of its leaves creating a comforting symphony.
As I recount stories of my mother's strength, love, and the joy she brought to our lives, I can't help but feel the weight of impending loss. But for Delphine's sake, I focus on the warmth of those memories.
After some time Delphine falls asleep, I make my way back inside and head for her cradle. When I overhear Mary say to Gilbert, "That girl you mentioned?" I stop dead in my tracks. "Be sure you marry for love." I almost drop the baby when I hear the word marry. "Only for love."
I stand frozen in the hallway for a few moments until I hear footsteps. I start walking into the bedroom, Gilbert freezes and gives me a startled look. I brush past and greet Mary. "I seem to have tuckered her plum out." I giggle awkwardly as Mary wipes her eyes.
"Thank you, Ada." She smiles. Gilbert clears his throat, we exchange an awkward look and he leaves. I sigh in relief before gently placing Delly down.
I take a seat by Mary, and the words she spoke weigh heavily on my mind. "Mary," I begin hesitantly, "do you ever worry that love won't last?"
"What a way to start up conversation." She chuckles as she looks at me with a knowing gaze, a mixture of sympathy and wisdom. "I know love can be a tricky thing."
I sigh, feeling the weight of recent awkwardness between Gilbert and me. "Since I got back things just feel complicated. Like it won't work out."
Mary reaches for my hand, her touch comforting. "Love is resilient, Ada. It has a way of finding its course."
"But what if it's not meant to be?" I confess, my doubts lingering. I take a deep breath, contemplating the complexities of my feelings. "What if I'm wasting my time? Maybe there's someone else out there for— my person. Someone who won't make things so complicated."
"I don't think you are. That is if we are talking about the same young man?" I blush and scratch my neck as Mary chuckles softly, her eyes filled with warmth. "Ada, honey, I don't think he can look at another woman the way he looks at you. Sometimes, the heart has a way of finding its own path, and I've seen the way he cares about you. Give it time, and you might be surprised."
Her lighthearted remark brings a smile to my face, momentarily easing the weight on my shoulders. Perhaps Mary is right—love has its own mysterious ways, and maybe Gilbert and I are destined for something more.
Mary's eyes sparkle. "I have a feeling you two will find your way to each other."
Her words linger in the air, and as I leave the room, I carry Mary's encouragement with me, a glimmer of hope amidst the uncertainty.
***
"Are we sure this is a good idea?" I gulp as a man gives me a glare as Gilbert and I trek through the Bog. We've been searching for Elijah and so far we haven't found him.
"We're doing this for Mary." Gilbert sighs. "Just stay close. They're not gonna hurt you."
We find a bar that someone told us Elijah drinks at a lot. When we enter all of the commotion stops and everyone looks to us.
"Finally. I heard there was a white man with no interest in the bawdy house roaming around." I have no idea what he just said.
"I'm looking for Elijah Hanford." Gilbert speaks up, keeping me behind him.
"What about you cupcake?" An older man grins creepily at me.
"Appelle-moi encore comme ça et je te castrerai, cupcake." I spit hatefully and he backs off surprisingly.
"Do you know him?" Gilbert asks the bartender.
"Yes."
"Do you know where I can find him?"
"I know exactly where he is. But does it matter when I get more of what you want at a better price?" The guy chuckles.
"I have important family news." Gilbert says curtly. "Can you help me?"
"Yes, and no." He shrugs. "He's long gone. Came into some money, booked passage on a ship to America."
"You're sure?" I scoff.
"Gotta be in New York by now." He says making us both sigh. "Not what you wanted to hear, eh? Well, have a drink. It'll take the sting out."
"No, but thank you." Gilbert says before trying to leave.
I stop in my tracks and say loudly. "If Elijah turns back up, please let him know that his momma is dying." I say before turning to leave. I grunt and kick the dirt as we walk out. "I swear if I had a momma as amazing and loving as Mary I'd never do her wrong. That boy is so.. so—" I grunt out in frustration.
"What did you say to that man?" Gilbert asks as we walk back down the street.
I sigh. "I don't know if you want to know..." He urges me to continue, "I told him I'd castrate him if he called me that again."
Gilbert's eyes bulge out of their head. "With a mouth like that you outta go back to finishing school."
"I outta." I laugh.
We decided to inform the laundry girls of Mary's current state. Jocelyn and Constance were deeply saddened. "I was told that he left town." Gilbert explains to the both of them.
"Poor Mary." Jocelyn sighs sadly. She cups Constance's hands as she tells her, "Tomorrow I'll ask Mr. Edwards for an advance on my wages. We'll hire a carriage and we'll go see her." She gingerly looks up to Gilbert. "If that's alright with you."
"Of course, yes." He nods eagerly. " But allow me to escort you on the train. Ada and I are taking the next one back."
"Yes please and don't worry about payment at all. It's the least we can do." I give them both soft smiles. They agree and we all head back to Avonlea.
***
After a few hours we arrive back home with Jocelyn and Constance. Sebastian meets us as the carriage stops. The girls greet him while I walk back up to the house. I open the door to reveal Anne and Marilla at the kitchen table. I smile at the spread of books and wildflowers.
"Afternoon, ladies." I sigh in contentment. "Thank you for coming." Anne stands and hugs me.
"Of course." She smiles, giving me a squeeze.
"Thank you so much for carrying our bags." I hear the women walk in behind me with Gilbert. "Makes my head spin."
"Look at the size of this kitchen." Constance gawks.
"Constance! Jocelyn!" Anne's smile grows. "How extraordinary to be ambushed by such affably familiar faces!"
"Does that mean she's happy to see us?" Jocelyn asks, Constance walks over and give Anne a hug.
"You've grown since the wedding." Her gaze then falls on Marilla. "Mary wrote that you've been
a big help to her, Miss Marilla."
"Oh, she's become a special friend." Marilla smiles. Constance exclaims joyfully before hugging Marilla, startling her. "Can we offer you ladies something after your long trip?
"We'd just like to see our Mary." Jocelyn rubs her sweaty hands together.
"At the end of the hall, on the left." Gilbert points.
"Thank you." They scurry down the hall.
"I'm glad they were able to visit Mary." Anne says breaking the silence.
I nod. "Me too. I couldn't bear the thought of them not being able to say goodbye." I look to the books. "What is all of this?" I ask. Anne explains her plans to be a special part of Delphine's life. My eyes tear up at the thought. "Oh Anne that's beautiful."
"You can help us if you'd like?" Anne suggests. "You're going to play a big part in her life as well."
I think about it before nodding in response. "I'd love to. But I think I have a different idea."
I slip away to my room, a sense of urgency propelling me forward. In the small vase on my dresser, I find the carnation—a symbol of love, especially a mother's devoted love. It feels right, a token of warmth and affection.
With careful fingers, I pluck the carnation from the vase, its delicate petals brushing against my skin. As I walk back to the kitchen, the flower cradled in my hand, I pass Mary and Sebastian's room, where a hushed conversation takes place.
Entering the kitchen, I see the family Bible on the shelf, a cherished possession of Mary's. I open it to a blank page in the back, a space often reserved for family records and notes.
Pressing the carnation between the pages, I take a moment to reflect on the significance of this gesture. I carefully inscribe the words, "Love transcends all boundaries," in the family Bible's blank space, feeling the weight of those profound words. They echo the final sentiment my mother shared before she left this world years ago—a comforting reminder that love has the power to overcome even the most formidable challenges.
Closing the Bible gently, I carry it with me, the pressed carnation nestled within its pages. It becomes a keepsake, a bridge connecting the love my mother left behind with the love we continue to share in the face of Mary's struggle.
As I hold the Bible and explain the significance of the carnation and the inscription, there's a tangible weight to the moment. Taking a breath, I share, "This carnation represents a mother's devoted love. I pressed it into the Bible. The inscription, 'Love transcends all boundaries,' is a tribute to my mother's final words. It's a reminder that love endures, even in the face of loss." Anne reaches out, gently squeezing my hand, while Marilla nods with a soft, understanding smile.
Gilbert, ever attuned to the emotions in the room, speaks, "That is beautiful, Ada."
Anne adds, "It's a beautiful way to honor your mother and, in a way, Mary's enduring love for all of us."
Marilla's eyes convey a depth of understanding. "A fitting tribute, Ada. Love is what we hold onto, forever."
In their spoken words and shared expressions, we find a connection that surpasses the unspoken sorrow in the room, drawing strength from each other as we face the challenges that lie ahead.