Hopes and Fears

twenty two // the last days of summer

"Pain is the price of love."

Anne and Gilbert couldn't have asked for better weather for their picnic.

They'd both risen early that morning, getting ready quickly and disappearing out the door, too excited to stop and eat breakfast. Setting off on their individual paths, one in his cart, the other mounting her bicycle, they breathed in the fresh, warm breeze.

What a beautiful day. All the colours seemed brighter, almost too bright to bare - every leaf shining green, every flower petal vivid and striking, every stream or pond sparkling like diamonds. The sky was cerulean blue, dusted by puffy clouds. Anne's bicycle wheels whirled beneath her, her plaits blowing back from her face which beamed with a smile she couldn't contain.

Reaching the crossroads, Anne didn't have to wait long before Gilbert appeared up the road, failing to conceal his excitement as he waved. Anne laughed at his goofy behaviour. Anne looked radiant, her cheeks pink and her freckles darkened by Summer. She was wearing her new dress which Matthew had brought for her birthday. Gilbert helped Anne secure her bike in the back of his cart beside the picnic basket before offering his hand to help her climb up to the seat.

"Goodmorning, my beautiful girl." Gilbert greeted, putting on a serious expression he knew Anne would enjoy.

"Good day to you, fine sir." Anne assumed the same pompous manner.

"May I say how splendid you look, ma'am?"

"May I ask, have you done something to your hair?" Anne inspected, her bright eyes missing nothing.

Gilbert blushed, his hand going to his unusually smooth curls. "What? No--"

"You've brushed your hair! Did you put something in it too?" Anne grinned mercilessly, reaching her hand to ruffle it. "Heavens, Gil."

"I haven't. Why would I do that?" Gilbert set his jaw and looked away, so as not to give himself away. His hand touched his hair, ensuring it was in the same state as before Anne's disruption.

"Well anyway, it looks very smart..." Anne bit her lip, trying not to giggle. "James was very kind to lend you his hair oil."

Gilbert was nonchalant. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about, carrots."

"Hey!" Anne exclaimed.

Gilbert was too quick. He tugged gently on her plait. "It's like old times."

"You're wicked!" Anne cried, batting his hands away as he laughed. "I shouldn't wear my hair this way around you, you're incorrigible."

"You haven't worn it that way in a long time," Gilbert commented, stealing side glances. "I rather like it."

"It keeps my hair out of my eyes, I don't do it for you." Anne scolded, her stubborn chin tipped up in the way Gil loved. "It is cruel to mock my red hair when you know very well it is a sore point I shall nurse throughout life despite acquiring a great deal more self-confidence since the last time."

"I'm sorry, I should know better than to comment on your hair, let alone touch it. After all, I'm lucky there's no slates around." Gilbert's grin was irresistible.

Anne laughed. "Very lucky indeed, Mr Blythe."

She wove her hand into his arm and held on tight as he steered the reins of his horse up the road to the hill. This was going to be a good day, she just knew.