Anne With An A

Chapter 6 - The Best Vanilla

The very last time Anne attempted to do this very cake was for a contest. You may recall it as the worst vanilla incident. It was quite an awful day. Anne felt terribly. Now, looking back, she cannot help but tug a shy smile.

Coming to this kitchen always feels off without Mary. At least a bit of her is with Anne today, in these pages she wrote herself, filled with Mary's recipes. Spicy recipes, sweet recipes, sour recipes. A wonderful world of scrumptious food within these pages, poured with so much love.

Obviously this story is about Anne, indelicate and clumsy Anne, so, the odds being what they are, she already knocked down a plate whilst looking for the best vanilla. The one she should've used before and didn't.

— I swear to God, child! You are an absolute menace! - Marilla screams from the pantry.
— I'm ever so sorry, Marilla! - Anne shouts in response, already minding her business with the recipe.

From the corner of her eye, she can spot Jerry hiding at the door.

— Well, eavesdropping isn't very nice. - Anne says, looking at the flour.
— I - Can I - I'm sorry, Anne. Can I come in and help? - Jerry asks her.
— It's really not a two person job.

Jerry looks rather disappointed with this response. He has been trying, you see, trying to show her how very different he is now. How much he has grown up, he could now hold an entire conversation about Frankenstein that would put even Diana to shame. Anne can certainly sense the shift in the air, what was before a busy kitchen, is now a very lonely one.

— Perhaps I could use your assistance after all, Jerry - Anne says - if you're still interested in the task?

Jerry's face lights up brighter than the Christmas tree and he nods happily, approaching the counter to try and help. Somehow, Anne sees him now for the first time she got back to Green Gables. He is such a sweet boy. It still pains her to know what happened between him and her bosom friend, it was not a very nice thing to do to this very sweet boy. It must've hurt him so much, to feel like he wasn't enough. Oh, how Anne knows the feeling. She is quite familiar with it actually, so familiar that it hurts her to remember and it hurts her to know this boy felt the same, once upon a time.

Marilla leaves us in the kitchen and Jerry opens his mouth as if to say something, but closes it in the next moment without a word. Anne, who is mixing the flour and the vanilla, catches the moment.

— Out with it. Come one.
— I - Jerry sighs. - I do not know how to day this.
— Well I do not speak French -
— Non, english is not the problem. I'm very sorry, Anne.
— Oh? Did you mix the wrong ingredients? It says here 8 eggs, how many did you use?
— Non, not with the cake. - Jerry sighs again, deeply.- I'm sorry for your trouble with Diana. It was because of me, oui? Pardon.

Anne was frozen by that statement. She had never stopped to consider how this actually concerned Jerry and it was never really about her. She couldn't help but feel selfish now, a bit overwhelmed by the feeling in fact. The truth was Diana had been on a journey, not unlike her own, to discover herself amongst the expectations of her parents. A truer Diana was born after the... Jerry situation. They hadn't really discussed it. Now that Anne even thought about this, it was rather odd that they hadn't. They could talk for hours about a simple hair comb, and yet Diana had completely ignored the entire situation. It was obvious what this meant: if Diana didn't care, she'd mention it.

How much does she really care about this boy turned man?