In the Woods When First We Met

142. Sugar

When Anne slipped quietly into the house, she didn't see Marilla or Matthew anywhere. She didn't really look, though, she just went straight upstairs to her bedroom.

She didn't even notice she'd gone up with her coat and hat still on. When she realized, she didn't want to go back down and so she just left them on her chair. She dropped everything on the floor- even her lunch basket, which was still full, and laid down on her bed.

Everything was awful.

She really did feel better about what Gilbert had said: she thought it sounded true- if you don't use energy on hiding anymore, then you'll have the energy you need to start healing- but as much hope as that gave her, it didn't mean it was going to be easy for her to get over that hurdle of saying what happened.

She pushed the note from Mr. Phillips underneath her mattress.

Then she decided that as long as everyone thought she was sick, she might as well be sick. She put her nightgown on and brushed her hair and got into bed. In just a moment, she was asleep.

A couple of hours later, Marilla walked into Anne's room to gather her bedsheets up for the wash, when she saw with a start that Anne was asleep in bed.

She looked at her things around her room. She realized Anne must have come home sick again, but wondered why Anne hadn't looked for her to tell her she was home. She'd only been down in the cellar. Perhaps Anne really was just that tired. She gathered up Anne's things to take downstairs and put away.

Once downstairs, she hung up Anne's coat and hat, and took her lunch basket into the kitchen to empty.

Marilla being in her room had woken her. Anne slowly got up out of bed and put her feet into her brown slippers with their periwinkle embrioidery. She padded down the steps, her feet making no noise at all with the softness of her new warm slippers.

Marilla turned around and was startled to see Anne standing behind her.

"Oh, Anne!" she said, breathing out.

Anne came over to her.

Marilla said, "Sent home sick today? What's wrong, is it your throat?" She reached out and felt Anne's forehead, but there was no fever.

Anne shook her head. She said, in a voice so quiet it was almost not her own- "Marilla, I need to talk to you about something."

Marilla's face changed... Anne's face had changed.

Marilla sat down at the table without a word.

Anne bit her lip, wringing her hands nervously. It felt like the other day- the day she'd confessed about her wrist- all over again.

Anne took a shuddery breath. "Um...the day I told you about my wrist?"

"Yes?" Marilla nodded, looking deep into Anne's eyes.

"Um. That wasn't...that wasn't everything."

Marilla wanted to press her, but stayed quiet.

"Well...I got hurt. But...it's been...it's been so long ago that it happened that it got harder and harder to bring it up."

Marilla nodded slowly.

Anne looked up at her. With a shaky breath, tears came into her eyes all over again.

"I didn't want you to be angry with me. Because I didn't mean for it to...it's my fault, I know, but..."

Marilla didn't know what to do. Should she press her, or should she stay quiet?

Anne looked around the room, looking anywhere but at Marilla.

"...Please don't be angry."

Marilla found herself slowly shaking her head.

They sat in silence for a long minute.

"I'm scared," Anne said, her voice hitching as she tried not to cry.

"Anne," Marilla said, "If something bad has happened, I want you to tell me. You needn't be scared- you're doing the right thing now."

Anne nodded and pushed her hair behind her ears.

But it was several seconds before she made any move to speak again.

"I..."

Marilla nodded.

"I..."

Anne was frustrated. With herself, with the situation...she shook her head.

"I can't." She said. "I'm too tired. I want to go back to bed. I'll tell you tomorrow."

Marilla's face dropped. She now realized Anne was not sick at all. It was a ruse, designed to avoid whatever it was that was burdening her so.

Matthew came in and went to the pump to wash his hands.

Marilla looked over at him.

Suddenly she said, "Oh, dear. I planned to bake a cake for the Perkins this afternoon and I didn't realize I was out of white sugar."

Matthew said, "Can't you use brown?"

Marilla shook her head. "They're not the same thing. The recipe calls for white. Matthew, would you go into town and get it for me?"

Matthew looked confused.

"Now?" he said.

"Yes, now."

"We're going into town Sunday for church," he thought of.

Marilla shook her head. "The shops aren't open Sundays, Matthew," as if he should have thought of that. "I need it today. Would you?"

"Well...all right."

Marilla said, "Anne, run up and get dressed. You know Matthew doesn't like all the chit-chat that comes along with going into town; you can be there to talk for him. Go on up and get ready."

Anne looked sick. "I don't want to go," she said, wanting only to go back to bed so she could escape every unpleasant thought.

"Well, he needs your help," Marilla said firmly. "So get dressed and go. It won't take but a minute."

Anne reluctantly got up and went up the stairs.

Matthew looked at Marilla, confused.

Marilla stood up and got close to him, saying in a low voice- urgently- "Matthew, she was trying to tell me something. I know in my heart it was something desperately important. But she stopped. I want you to take her with you, and drive slow. I really believe she'll open up to you if you let her."

Matthew nodded, his eyes showing he understood this was no trip to get sugar. He went outside and brought the buggy around.