before you left

04. Promise?

Usually, Marilla was quite used to her daughter coming home and displaying a variety of emotions. It had almost become a guessing game for her, squandering around as she attempted to determine whatever her daughter's most recent ailment was. This time, it seemed obvious that this was much more serious. She firmly believed it would be best to run and hide as soon as she saw the redheaded tornado approaching Green Gables. Anne slammed the gate furiously, forgoing her usually cautiousness and caring nature regarding her lovely home. Marilla made a mental note to scold Anne for that, but as the girl grew closer it became obvious that there were much more pressing matters at hand. Tears streamed down her face as her worn shoes smacked against the gravel pathway.

"Oh, heavens," Marilla said, letting out a deep sigh. She began to clear a space in the kitchen for Anne to sit, where she would most likely rant about her brief trip to the Blythe residence. She heard Anne before she caught sight of her; the girl made quite a big gesture of stomping about as she made a point of flinging her coat onto the wooden bench in the mud room instead of placing it on the coat rack just mere inches above it. So, Marilla was rather surprised when Anne came into the kitchen and remained silent, abandoning her previous passion for whatever had caused her outburst. The only indication of what had happened was the way Anne continued to touch her friendship necklace. Marilla pulled out a chair and patiently waited for Anne to take a seat. "Anne, what is it?"

Anne refused to talk for several minutes, instead seeming content with sitting in the chair with her arms folded across her chest. Marilla eventually began to tap her foot impatiently and rose from her seat next to Anne. She clearly needed a lesson on the importance of directness and clarity in conversation. Marilla wasn't a mind reader, for goodness sake.

Before she could reprimand Anne, she spoke, "I'm sorry, it's Diana."

This frustrated Marilla even more. Matthew walked in at this moment; his delayed response to his daughter's sorrow was still appreciated as it brought a sad smile to Anne's face. He nodded his head slightly, before taking a seat at the table beside her and placing his hand on her shoulder to offer some comfort.

"Continue, child," Marilla urged, throwing her brother a knowing look.

"Right, yes. She's...she's going to finishing school. Finishing school in Paris. She won't be attending Queens with the rest of us." Anne finally finished the dreaded statement. It was the first time she admitted it out loud, and hearing it said seemed to bring it one step closer to fruition. One step closer to the acceptance of this fate.

Marilla didn't know what to say. She remained quiet and lightly stroked her daughter's long braids. There was nothing she could do. She knew that, of course, but she couldn't stand to see the poor child like this anymore. Matthew was clearly disgruntled, but he knew that he was ultimately powerless against the Barrys' decision as well.

"Oh, Anne...I'll...I'll see what I can do. Maybe I could talk to Mrs. Barry, or..."

These small hopes were all meaningless in the grand scheme of things, and Marilla knew it.

She was interrupted by another fit of Anne's silent sobs.

Matthew was about to excuse Anne for the rest of the night; she obviously needed some time to herself. Marilla silently agreed with this idea, but she also knew she couldn't very well send Anne to explain the situation to Gilbert and the Lacroix family and ask them to reschedule.

"Alright, well...I promise you, Anne, we will figure this out. But first we must get through this dinner. I'm afraid it's too late for me to send you over to the Blythe's to cancel."

She expected Anne to put up a fight, but instead she only nodded her head. Anne felt utterly numb, her only recognizable emotion being her desire to make the most of her remaining time with her best friend.