In the Woods When First We Met

17. Interim

She looked around. It seemed unlikely anyone would see her going to his house. All she could see were fields.

Gilbert looked at her. "My father's probably in bed. But I can introduce you, if he's up to it."

Anne hesitated at the porch.

Gilbert looked at her. "You just wanna sit down in the kitchen? You don't have to come all the way in."

Anne felt weird going into his home, especially without his father knowing she was there. But she did not want to take this opportunity to meet his father, either. All she really wanted was to disappear.

She just lingered at the door for a moment, and finally made her way to the chair that was nearest the front door. She didn't sit down in it, though.

Gilbert set down their things on the table and got a couple of glasses from the cupboard.

"Here," he said, handing her a glass of water first, before filling his own glass.

"I'll be right back."

Anne nodded.

Gilbert returned in a few minutes. "My father's asleep, so you won't be able to meet him."

Anne breathed a small sigh of relief.

"Do you want more water? ...Or, anything? You hungry yet?"

Anne shook her head.

"Ok, well, I'll run upstairs and find a needle and thread, all right?"

He left.

Anne glanced around the room. Everything was clean, but there was an emptiness about the place. No flowers, no picture frames, no pretty little things sitting out on tables or shelves. She wondered if Gilbert had a mother. She didn't see anything that looked as if it had a "feminine touch" to it at all.

She set her glass down on the table.

Gilbert returned a few minutes later. He had a needle and a spool of white thread. "Will this do?"

"Scissors," Anne said, her voice hollow sounding.

"Right," Gilbert rummaging in a kitchen drawer.

"We can stay here longer- if you want?"

Anne shook her head.

They made their way back to Anne's little house in the woods.