Florence - (G.B.)/(B.A.)

Chapter 11

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Surprise Visit

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Gilbert Blythe entered his house after a tiring day in town. He was out on a job search, but came home unlucky; there was nobody in town who was willing to hire a schoolboy like him, even part-time. He knew that it wasn't easy finding jobs in today's market ⸺ but it wasn't like he was voluntarily seeking one in the first place. He needed the money to pay for his father's medical bills. And although Mr. Blythe had strictly forbidden his son from doing any such thing, insisting that he should focus on his studies ⸺ he also knew that it was the only way for them to be able to make ends meet.

Slipping off his winter coat and boots, he dragged his feet along the wooden floor on his way to check on his father in his bedroom. Reaching there, he expected to see the man laying quietly or even sleeping ⸺ but he wasn't doing any. In fact, Mr. Blythe wasn't even inside. Furrowing his brows, Gilbert took a peek further into the room only to not see the man anywhere. It wasn't even like he would need to leave to use the restroom because there had been a perfectly good lavatory system (a bucket) right beside the bed. Feeling his confusion and anxiety rising, the young boy went on an immediate search around different parts of the house with the hope that he would find his father somewhere. Anywhere.

"Dad!" Gilbert called with worry as he quickened his pace. He looked from room to room but there was no sight of the man anywhere. His worry rose as he called out to the maid next, hoping that she knew where his father had ventured off to.

Just when he contemplated grabbing his coat and going on a search outside ⸺ a familiar laugh was heard from the ⸺ living room. He approached there only to be surprised at the sight before his eyes; his father was out of bed, sitting on the sofa, and conversing with ⸺ Florence?

"Dad? What are you doing out of bed?" he asked loudly, and all the attention in the room had suddenly shifted to him. He didn't so much as glance at the girl in the room, his worry being quickly replaced with what he identified as exasperation.

"Susan couldn't make it today due to some immediate problems that she had to deal with," Mr. Blythe answered. "Florence here was just stopping by to deliver some delicious cookies, and she decided to stay for a little while."

"You should be resting, dad."

"But I'm feeling fine, son, really."

Gilbert shot a look of anger at Florence. "He's sick, and you're keeping him up?"

"Well⸺"

"Honestly Gilbert, I'm doing fine," Mr. Blythe quickly interjected, throwing a look of disappointment at his son. He motioned to the herbal cup of tea in his hand. "Look, she even brewed some tea for us. Your cup is right there."

Maybe it was all the hassle and tiredness of the day getting the best of him, but all the explanations seemed to just fly over Gilbert's head. He sighed. "Still, dad. You should be resting in your room, it's cold out here."

"Mr. Blythe wanted to sit outside for a change," Florence finally spoke up.

"I didn't ask you, Florence⸺"

"Gilbert," the older man scolded. Although he was unable to raise his voice too much due to his condition, he knew how to get his point across. He sighed, putting the teacup down. "I haven't felt this alive in months."

Gilbert narrowed his eyes, thinking everything over once more. Truth be told, he had noticed just how full of life his father looked suddenly at the young girl's presence; or maybe his medicine was actually working and there was a chance of him getting better again. The young boy supposed that that was just wishful thinking, but he noticed the genuine contentment on his father's face either way.

"Fine," he muttered under his breath and turned away for the stairs. "I'm going to freshen up."

"Thank you, son."

***

"This will be the last time that Diana will ever see Anne," Mrs. Barry shouted, grabbing her daughter's hand and dragging her to the door. She opened the door and left at once, not caring for her daughter's vulnerable state in the slightest. Marilla shut the door before addressing the other culprit in the room.

"What were you thinking, Anne? You were drunk?" Marilla crossed her arms, sighing as Anne was on the verge of tears as well. Marilla came home that day after an afternoon outside to see both Diana and Anne drunk out of their minds after they found some alcohol in the kitchen. Where the alcohol came from she'd never know because Marilla swore that she'd thrown away every last bit of it upon adopting Anne, but it was terrible timing as Mrs. Barry was the first to see the two girls in such a messy state.

"Please Marilla, it wasn't our fault," Anne insisted, the tears now falling from her eyes with an uneven pattern. "I thought it was raspberry cordial⸺"

"Well, it wasn't!"

"I'm very sorry! Please talk to Mrs. Berry, I can't go without seeing Diana⸺"

"You should've thought of that before getting yourselves drunk." Marilla sighed, pinching her nose from irritation. She addressed the young girl again, much calmly this time, "Go to your room, Anne. We'll talk about this in the evening⸺"

"No, Marilla, it doesn't make sense," Anne tried to reason but to no avail. She knew that her guardian wouldn't listen to her; she never tended to anyway. With slumped shoulders, she began to make her way to the staircase, but before she could step onto them ⸺ she rushed over to the main door and grabbed her coat and hat before heading outside. She could hear the shouts from Marilla but she blocked them out. Still, she found a need to explain her whereabouts, so she called out, "I'm going over to the Robinson's. I'll be back soon!"

"Anne, wait here!" Marilla reached the door but was a few seconds late. She looked ahead as she saw the young girl running across the land while she slipped on her coat. It wasn't even about the older woman being angry anymore; it was more about Marilla's inner motherly instincts popping in and her hoping that Anne would be okay.

As for the entire problem regarding the raspberry cordial ⸺ she would deal with that at another time.