Nine Months

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Marilla was visiting from Green Gables, helping Anne prepare for the birth of her first child.

The bump of the unborn baby sat uncomfortably against Anne's stomach. She was nine months along as of the day prior, and was ready to burst at a moments notice.

Marilla, having no biological children of her own, knew very little about the birthing process. Even so, that didn't stop her from insisting to help with the Lamaze side of things, while the father of the child, none other than Dr. Gilbert Blythe, would deliver it.

It was two in the afternoon and the women were putting the finishing touches on the nursery room, which used to be Anne's office.

When the pregnancy was announced, it was out of the question to move any of Gilbert's things, as his office was packed with footprints of his work. So, they decided to move Anne's desk and typewriter into the family room, where there was plenty of space for her to comfortably work.

Anne gave Marilla the honor of hanging the mobile, on which hung some 3D shapes Jerry had crafted out of wood from his business back in Green Gables for the growing family.

The room was complete, and the duo made their way downstairs for a cup of tea.

They discussed the happenings in their lives, Marilla confessing her doubts concerning the longevity of her life, seeing as her only two brothers both had passed away in rather untimely fashions. Meanwhile, Anne voiced her worries of motherhood, with Gilbert working long hours and she herself dedicating every minute of her time to writing her rather popular novels.

Both silenced each other's frets. Marilla had always been a strong woman, overcoming illnesses most could not, and Anne already worked from home as it was; she'd just have to multitask a bit.

"Let me take your cup," Anne offered after they had both finished their tea.

"Thank you my dear," Marilla smiled, handing her cup and saucer over to the girl with the mane of fire.

Anne made her way to the kitchen, careful to stand enough away from the wash bin as not to squish the life growing inside her. The very thought itself made her chuckle as a warm glow exploded in her heart.

It'd all come so soon, and yet it was finally here.

As she washed the dishes, Marilla continued on their conversation.

"The children still adore Ms. Stacey," She said, drawing light on Anne's old school teacher.

A kind woman, Ms. Stacey never remarried, instead fighting for feminism along with several other women in Avonlea. She and Anne letter each other frequently.

They conversed for a few more minutes while Anne finished in the kitchen.

Suddenly, from the other room, Marilla heard a teacup smash onto the ground.

"Anne!" She raced into the kitchen to find her daughter standing stiller than one of Cole's clay statues. "Anne?"

She turned, staring at Marilla with wide and frightened blue eyes, and stepped away from where she was standing.

There, in the center of the kitchen, was a small puddle.

"My water just broke."

Cordelia MarillaWhere stories live. Discover now