Remains to be Seen

Chapter Twenty-Five: Tears (rewrite)

ohmygoodness hiiiiiiii ♡

I am sooooo terribly sorry it took so long; I've been going through a lot of emotional ups and downs plus I've been trying to figure out where I really want to take this story. I have rewritten part of this chapter, so I will be deleting the chapter I had posted after this one. *but don't fret!* the next is already in the works!! i promise! ♡

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Having been escorted from the cemetery by Gilbert, Anne walked in her front door for the first time in days, and memories flooded her senses.

Matthew's pipe tobacco tickled her nose, the faint echo of his muffled laughter when Marilla pulled out Anne's burnt attempt at a casserole, his gentle embrace whenever she was caught up in a horrid flashback to her time with Mrs. Hammond or at the orphanage.

"Anne?" Gilbert's gently voice questioned as he felt Anne's tucked hand tense up, turn and grasp his elbow.

"I—I don't know if I can do it, Gil," Anne whispered as her eyes glassed over with fear.

"Anne-girl, you are the strongest person I have ever been graced to know. If anyone could handle it, you can. Remember, hold the memories dear; relive them even, but do not forsake them in bitter sadness."

Gilbert's calm rational words pierced through the blanket of worry and anxiety which had flushed Anne's spirit. Her shaky shallow breathes, deepening and becoming once again consistent. She looked up into the calm brown eyes which had grown so familiar and had started to feel like home—except one part. There was always a mysterious glint in them, and it unnerved Anne when she thought about it. She had seen that same glint somewhere before...but where?

Anne shook the thoughts away and nodded, "I can do it this."

After settling on letting Anne stay with Sebastian and Gilbert, Marilla had coped the only way she knew how—cleaning and setting things in order; for, Green Gables had never been so tidy. One could even eat supper off the floor, but you would never see such a heathenistic spectacle in Marilla Cuthbert's house.

Anne stepped into the parlor doorway to find all the adults conversing nearly mutely.

Rachel Lynde sat on the sofa reminding Marilla how beside herself she was after Mr. Lynde's death, "I eventually learned how to live without waking up in the morning and placing two pieces of bread on to toas—"

Mrs. Lynde's voice caught in her throat, Anne gave the old woman credit to have lasted that long into the sentence.

Turning to walk to the kitchen Anne whispered up to Gilbert, "I don't know how Mrs. Lynde manages. To lose your husband—your kindred spirit you'd found and settled down with! For them to just be ripped from you...."

"I suppose it is similar to any family death, but the oppression greater in intensity since they were so dear," Gilbert rubbed the back of his neck finding himself out of his element.

"I suppose," Anne's voice trailed off when she felt a hand clutch her arm pulling her around.

"DIA—" Anne lowered her voice when her friend motioned for her to be quiet, "na! Oh! How I've missed you greatly!"

Gilbert stood watching the two girls embrace one another. He'd known Diana his whole life, and she'd often felt like a sister honoree. He was overjoyed and couldn't have been prouder when he learned that Diana had instantly accepted Anne when she'd first come to Avonlea all those years ago.

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It was nearing the end of the funeral reception at Green Gables, and Charlie was about to burst. Diana hadn't so much as looked at him, not to mention spoken to him. Come to think of it, he hadn't even seen her for the last hour. He settled on trying to find her and walked into the kitchen.