A tiny green damsel sat on the Ingleside stoop, morosely kicking the dust and cherry blossom petals.
Having finished rereading her Alice in Wonderland, Rilla Blythe was incredibly bored. "Bored" was not an adjective she used frequently - Susan having decreed it "unladylike" - but verily, Rilla uttered to herself with a dramatic sigh, ladylike manners were futile when the entire world patronised you as a roly-poly baby.
Except Walter, of course. But Walter had gone to spend the weekend with Jem in Charlottetown. The sunset sky and violet shadows made her miss Walter keenly. She wanted Walter to trace cloud-pictures and muse over Alice's Adventures with. Still sulking, Rilla recalled their tearful, affectionate parting beneath the White Lady.
"Walter," she had mourned, gazing hopefully at her black-haired brother "however will I path a three dayth without you? Will you promith me you'll read all the poetry you write in Charlottetown to me, firtht? Me, not Di?" She wildly wished she didn't lisp. It marred the sweet romance of their parting.
"I promise," the black haired, black eyed answered solemnly. He adored his little sister's rapt adoration of him, and knew that Di was too jolly and goodhearted to mind.
Rilla's long lashes misted with tears, and as they fluttered on her creamy skin Walter thought she was a veritable thing of beauty. But Rilla had not finished imparting the woes of a nine-years-old. "When you go to Queenth...Walter - how will I bear it? How will I bear a year without you?"
Walter, dreaming about the poem he would write for Rilla on the train, answered lightly. "Let's not worry about next year. We have a beautiful summer ahead of us. And tonight... the Fords just came, Rilla, so Nan and Di are going to the House of Dreams. Ask mother to let you go, too."
Walter had left Rilla full of rainbow dreams. He did not know what secret she had connected with the House of Dreams, but he had noticed how visits thereto threw her into the delights of anticipation.
"Nan - Di - " Rilla had hesitated over who to ask first, Nan whom she envied and feared for her pride and beauty, Di who she envied even more for all her intimacy with Walter. "Mother says I can come to the House of Dreamth with you." She was trying hard not to lisp, to sound grown-up to her tall, handsome sisters.
"Oh, but you can't." Nan remarked, too busy braiding her brown tresses into the Candogan knot with a pink silk ribbon.
"We've bringing Faith Meredith because she's just our age, and Persis won't have any more sleeping room." Di added with a kindly smile.
She had fled tearstung to the kitchen. "Girls' sleepovers are for when you're older, pet." Susan tried to comfort her.
"But I AM older now, Thuthan!" Rilla had stormed to tell Carl Meredith when they trysted by the Hollyhock bush.
"Not old enough to make eyes at Ken Ford, Miss roly-poly." Carl sneered. He hadn't been invited to the House of Dreams either and was feeling sore.
But Rilla was aghast: how did he know her secret? When they had promised they would never marry each other, she had never said she was in love with anyone else, either!
"Well, Perthith Ford will never have anything have anything to do with an impudent boy like you!" she had retorted.
So Carl had gone off in a huff to play with Una, and she was "lonesomer than ever."
Sensing another presence on the verandah, Rilla scowled. "Go away, Carl" she hissed without looking.
"But it's me." Shirley offered shyly. Shirley was thin and dark, and blended in calmly with the garden shadows.
"Go back to Susan, then." Rilla continued, but with less venom.
"Do you want to be left alone?" Shirley asked.
"No," Rilla sulked. "Everyone leaves me alone. They think I'm a baby."
"Everyone forgets me." Shirley said simply.
Rilla looked at her eleven-year-old brother, wide-eyed. Susan kept him to herself so often, and he seemed content with her company. "Re-ally?" she asked.
"Yup. Even... you."
Rilla half-acknowledged that she never paid attention to Shirley, who spoke so little and played so silently. But she wasn't done feeling sorry for herself. "You won't understand what it's like to miss out on staying all night at the house of dreams, Shirley."
"No, I don't." Shirley said. "I've never been to one. But ... I can imagine."
"Can you imagine what fun they're having?" Rilla sighed. "Life isn't fair. I never get to be a part of anything Nan and Di do."
"I never get to be a part of anything any of you do." Shirley said, still simply and without anger. "I wasn't even in Avonlea with you all when Mother and Father went to London."
"Oh, Shirley, I'm sorry." Rilla said slowly. She felt that amends were in order, but she didn't quite know what to say or do. If Shirley was Walter she would have embraced him affectionately and then gone hand in hand with him to listen to thrush-songs in Rainbow Valley. If Shirley was Jem, she would have tickled him and gotten merrily teased in return. Even Carl Meredith! She knew how to make him forgive her in a twinking! Rilla realized with a pang that she hardly knew her still, silent brother.
"I think it's because Susan loves you too much. It's the same way with me -- Nan and Di don't really like me all the time because they think Mum and Dad spoil me a lot." Rilla was surprised at what she was saying. It was quite uncharacteristic for her nine year old self to make insightful meditations. Walter was more adept with deep thoughts deeply — but such feelings would be passion-charged in his utterances. Rilla was even more surprised at how calmly and gently she spoke.
"You are spoiled." Shirley said matter-of-factly.
What an unexpected honesty for Rilla Blythe to hear! No one who had mattered had ever said anything so unflattering to her. Walter had never told her she was spoiled... and she trusted Walter with all her heart. How dare Shirley — and yet, she wasn't mad. Was it merely the gathering dark, or had Shirley brought with him a strange peace?
"Mum and Dad never scold you. And if they do, there's always Susan." Shirley grinned. "to make you an extra brown egg afterwards. She never gives you the chipped plate... and you never have to share anything with anyone, like your hammock. Jem and Walter or Nan and Di share with one another, and with us too. Jem's given you all his books and seashell collections. Nan would have liked them, but she's too old now. Susan won't hear of you not getting at least two new dresses every summer and winter. And Jem and Walter pet you a lot. Rilla, you're really good at being loved."
Shirley was very astute. He did not sound jealous, and he did not even grace his words in beautiful phrasings as Walter would if he had to make ugly, hurtful criticisms. But Shirley's comments did not seem so ugly. He did not ask, or even hint at asking: but Rilla knew the unspoken question was "How good am I at giving back?"
"I see why they don't like me now. I mean, I know they love me — sisters always do, I know, but I thought they didn't want me around because I was a baby who lisped!" she added, with a how-could-I-have-been-such-fool note of gayness in her pretty voice.
"Rilla..." Shirley smiled a rare smile.
"Yes?" Rilla was heading for her hammock.
He climbed in with her, knowing she would share her hammock at least this once... and perhaps always. "You're not lisping now."
Shirley was right. Rilla was talking like to Shirley like they were both grown-ups! Or what would Walter have called it — equals. Impulsively, she flung her arms around her brother and held him in a bear hug. Shirley laughed and made the hammock rock violently. Rilla was bubbling with happiness. Of course, she would never love any brother like she loved Walter, but Shirley was a very comfortable brother to have indeed.
A/N : It's a one shot. Like it, hate it, tell me as you please. :)