by the window reading Anne of Green Gables

for the third time. Mama came in to feel her forehead,

as if to reassure herself: Thank God, yes,

Grace is still here, Grace is fine. I see Papa trying

to repair the windmill by himself. Where is Ollie?

Where, come to think of it, is Emma? I start

back down the hill—maybe I can help Papa

fix the windmill. I pass by Grace’s playhouse,

recalling that day last June, when Ollie

(with both arms) worked so hard to finish it.

Grace seemed so much younger then,

jumping up and down as she watched him work.

Wait … what do I hear? Someone

in the playhouse—not Grace—

two voices—Shhh … she’ll hear us.

Soft whisper—We shouldn’t …

I hurry on; I don’t want to hear more.

I am “she,” I’m sure of it.

Ollie and Emma are “we.”

This is how it is, how it will be

from now on—their new forever.

I start composing letters in my mind:

Dear Ruby, I will take the job.

Dear Aunt Vera, Count me in.

It Also Happened to Us / Ollie

It Also Happened to Us

Ollie

Tie his shoes? Muriel is leaving home because she taught

a child in Washington to tie his shoes? I don’t understand. Aren’t

there plenty of children around here that she could teach? Pa and Ma

are determined not to tell her what to do: It’s up to you. We’ll miss you,

but you’re old enough to decide for yourself. If you’ve made up your mind,

we won’t try to change it. Pa is very quiet. Ma is thinking hard. I heard her

crying after Muriel went to bed. She looks tired. Maybe she’s lonely. I’m

trying to recall how it was before—Mrs. Norman came over all the time.

She was here almost every day, before the war, I remind Emma. That’s

what you don’t understand, Emma answers. We’ve changed, too. The

war happened to you over in France, but it also happened to us

here at home. She holds my hand. I think about that. Yes, I

say, but now maybe it’s time for us to make some blackberry

pie and fried chicken! Get together for a little music.

Blackberry-Apple Cobbler / Muriel

Blackberry-Apple Cobbler

Muriel

It won’t be easy, leaving home;

Ollie sounds so mournful when he

talks about it, I’ll never tell him my decision

has anything to do with him. In truth, it doesn’t;

hearing him and Emma whispering together

in the playhouse was just the nudge I needed

to make me go out looking for whatever happiness

will be my own. I promise Grace, I’ll come home

as often as I can. And when you’re old enough

to take the train, you can come and visit me.

Emma hears our conversation and offers