SUPERCUT; gilbert blythe ✔

041.

Easter is bittersweet this year.

Preparing the surprise for Mary is so much different than than it did not so long ago, on Anne's birthday... Back then, Marianne could feel no shadow looming over her shoulder, the occasion being happy among all else. A celebration of the begging of maturity, a reminder of the fact that the redhead girl has all her live to look forward to. Now, despite the Barrys' garden being beautifully decorated and all of them brought together for the day, no one could deny having their heart pierced by a stubborn thorn. It is impossible to push the thought of Mary's illness away completely.

It's not about her, though, Marianne reminds herself as she fixes the last of the paper butterflies she made with the help of Diana's little sister. Somewhere behind her back, Minnie May is shouting, announcing the arrival of Mary and her family - there is nothing else for her to do now but turn to greet the newcomers.

And while she's at it, she realises that, despite the previous doubts, she doesn't have to force a smile onto her lips. It's more than easy. And it's real.

"Happy Easter." Hearing his voice whisper right by her ear, Marianne turns her sight away from Mary for a second. Gilbert stares down at her, looking oh so very smart in these clothes, a mixture of a soft smile and a satisfied smirk on his lips. "Hello," he says.

"We've all already wished each other that," the girl points out.

"Oh, I am well aware. But this one's just for you."

Isn't the boy quite the charmer? Marianne hums, the corners of her lips tugging upwards as well. "Happy Easter to you too, then."

"Thank you, my friend."

Mary's voice causes Marianne to remember why they've gathered here in the first place - and it's certainly not so she could relish in that warm feeling which Gilbert's presence awakens. As challenging as it it, she turns her eyes away from him and focuses on the woman instead, watching as Anne passes her the recipe book she's made for Delphine. It's the most lovely gift, with the instructions written in a near handwriting, pressed flowers adorning the pages.

"You're an angel, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert."

Marianne knows the redhead girl feels a special kind of way about Mary's daughter now. She can recall the evening when she'd first started to write down the recipes, how she would speak about wishing to take Delphine under her wing... Quite a few years now, and yet Anne still manages to amaze her. Not surprise, because kindness is planted so very deep in the girl's nature that Marianne has grown used to expect nothing less, but cause her heart to fill with yet another wave of respect and love.

Therefore, as it is her turn to stand in front of Mary now, Marianne takes care to point out, "Anne's brilliant idea inspired my gift, too." Slowly, she pulls a notebook from behind her back, carefully handing it over to the woman. The cover seems worn out a little and there are a few loose sheets sticked inside, threatening to fall as Mary's fingers turn over the pages.

"Marianne..."

"I'm sorry it doesn't look the prettiest. I must admit, I simply never expected to... As I would sit in your kitchen or your garden, watching you cook or work, or play with Delphine, I just didn't suppose my sketches would serve any purpose beside occupying my hands. They are not perfect, but i thought Delphine might like having them." Marianne holds her breath for a moment as Mary stops on a drawing of herself with asleep her daughter in her arms, the baby reaching for her hair. "I'm sorry I didn't manage to finish a painting of your family-"

"No. No, it is perfect. I'm not exactly the picture of health now, and this..." Mary turns a few pages back, showing them an image of herself once again, this time smiling brightly over a stove, Delphine placed in a shawl on her back. She taps her finger on the paper, carefully, not to smudge the thin lines. "This is the real me. And I want my daughter to know the real me. Thank you both, my lovely girls."