Anne had promised to take Walter to play at the house of one of her grown up friends for the afternoon.
She had been avoiding everyone- not even taking Walter to church, much to Marilla's chagrin- because she was so embarrassed by how he had been acting. But she had finally agreed to an outing because Marilla pointed out that if Walter stopped socializing, he'd be even less likely to learn how to act around people.
So Anne reluctantly took him to Rose Connor's house to play with Dennis. It wasn't long before there was a tantrum- only it wasn't from Walter, it was from Dennis.
Dennis shoved Walter in the chest. Rose rushed to pull Dennis away from the toy he was grabbing right out of Walter's hands, and she told him that if he couldn't behave himself then he couldn't play with Walter at all.
Dennis stomped and screamed because he had wanted the red train engine to drive through the blocks but he had the blue caboose instead, and the whole world would come to an end if he couldn't snatch the red train away from Walter.
Walter did not react when the toy was pulled from his hands, but he looked to Rose for what to do. Rose pulled Dennis away from him, saying, "You go ahead and play, Walter. You haven't done anything wrong. Dennis needs to remember his manners before he can play with you again."
But Dennis did not remember his manners, and continued throwing a fit, his face screwed up in anger, until finally Rose threatened to spank him if he wouldn't stop this at once. He did stop, but then sat pouting because Rose had told him he had to apologize to Walter and he did not want to.
At long last he told Walter he was sorry, and the two went back to playing, the incident forgotten.
Anne was quiet on the walk home.
Rose's husband Charley was one of the kindest, gentlest men she knew. She couldn't imagine a better husband- except for Gilbert, of course.
Yet there was Charley's son, throwing and hitting and being selfish in general. And Anne with all her child care experience knew that children do have little temper tantrums, but she'd been so focused on Walter being like his father that she could not see anything beyond that. But now...maybe it was true, what everyone said- maybe it was just a phase Walter was going through like any other little child. After all, if Dennis could act that way despite having such a lovely father...
Walter reached for her hand, wanting to be closer to her.
Anne let him take her hand absentmindedly.
They strolled along.
"I was good, mama," Walter said suddenly, proud of himself. "I wasn't bad like Dennis."
Anne didn't answer.
"I was good, mama," he repeated, louder this time, pulling on her hand.
Anne stopped. She looked down at him as if considering him for the first time, and impulsively picked him up.
"You're right," she whispered to him. "You are good."
Things were easier in their home that evening.
After supper, Anne took Walter outside to catch lightning bugs. Marilla and Matthew sat on the back porch, amused at the sight. Anne was running around like a little girl again, and Walter was doing his best to imitate his mama.
Once it was too dark to see any longer, they went into the house, the jam jar held tight in Walter's little hands.
Marilla had gotten the tub ready for Walter to have a bath when he came in from playing outside. Anne set the jam jar in the window sill so that his bath could be lit by the flickering lights while he washed, though he was more interested in making soap bubbles than in washing.
Once he was scrubbed clean, Anne wrapped him in his terrycloth towel and scooped him up, heading for the stairs.
"Mama, I want my bugs," Walter said, reaching his arms out.
Anne went back, to retrieve the jar from the window sill. She tried not to drop it on the way up the stairs, thinking she really ought to have brought Walter's pajamas downstairs instead of carrying him upstairs wrapped in his bath towel.
Once in their bedroom, she set the jar in the open window again, and then she pulled his nightie over his head and got his underwear on him.
"I don't need no diapers now," Walter said proudly. "I no baby."
"No, you're not," Anne said, very happy not to need diapers any longer.
She rubbed his hair dry with the towel, thinking for the first time that perhaps his wavy blonde hair was not so terrible after all- she decided she could do better to look past it, it wasn't his fault it grew out of his head that way.
And then she turned out her lamp, so that the whole room was dark but for the jar of flickering lightning bugs.
"Aren't they pretty?" Anne whispered to him, holding him in the dark.
Walter did not answer, but leaned his head on her shoulder.
"Mama," he said a moment later.
"What is it?"
"I love you," he said. Then he grinned. "You're a nice mama."
Anne felt terribly guilty for him thinking she was nice when she'd been so mean to him, but she tried to let that guilt wash away- he did not know she had struggled so much, and he loved her despite her shortcomings.
"You're a good baby," she murmured, holding him closer.
Walter was indignant. "I not a baby!"
Anne laughed a little. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said with repentance. "You're a big boy, it must have slipped my mind."
"When is Gil-ber going to come back?" Walter asked, moving on.
"Tomorrow," Anne said with a sigh. She felt so content, now: The summer was lovely, Walter was happy, Gilbert was with them every single day. She did not want to think about Redmond and the end of the summer.
"I want Gil-ber all the time," Walter said. "He can come live here with us. He don't need his house."
"He doesn't need his house, Walter, not he don't need his house'" Anne chided gently.
"That's what I said, he don't need it," Walter said, missing the point completely.
"I like going to Gil-ber's, but I miss you when I go'd," he told her. "Next time you come too. Then we be together."
This time Anne did not bother to correct his grammar, laughing a little bit at how he had said go'd instead of went. She smoothed his hair back. "Let's go to sleep now. Would you like to stay with mama?" she asked him.
He nodded happily.
She started to get in bed, but then remembered the lightning bugs.
"Come here," she said, setting him down and walking with him to the window.
She opened the jar.
"They get away!" Walter began to scream, his hands coming down hard over her arms, trying to stop her.
"No," she said gently, pulling out of his angry grasp. "We have to let them go. They want to fly now, and live."
One lightning bug flew off, and then another, and another. The last stragglers were helped along by Anne, as she dipped her finger into the jar to take them, one by one into her hand, and then gently blew to encourage them to fly.
"They were pretty in the jar in the window," she told him. "But look how pretty they are when they're flying away."
They watched until they could no longer tell which lightning bugs were "theirs" and which were the ones who had never been caught.
"Come now, let's go to bed," Anne said.
She let Walter in her bed with her- something she ordinarily never did- and though the night was warm, she found she didn't mind him laying on top of her, his little arms wrapped tightly around his mama's neck, and his hair in her face.
She decided she would not waste precious time worrying over how he'd turn out.
This resolution would not always last- as time went on, new issues would appear and old worries would surface, and she might feel right back to where she'd started.
But in the moment- this moment, this night- she would breathe a sigh and just enjoy him being little, because he wouldn't be little for long.