#I wish I could be the person which Gil would praise rather than look upon like on a piece of trash...

[gilgil-machine]

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[kforourke]

“You Will Not Be Able to Stay Home, Brother”: Morgan Parker‘s “Magical Negro”

Sometimes, when I read Morgan Parker’s poetry, in spite of knowing that doing so is ridiculous, I imagine that her otherwise silent-in-my-head poetry is accompanied by the drums and echo of Gil Scott-Heron’s “The Revolution Will Not Be Televised” (the original, Small Talk at 125th And Lenox version). It just seems to fit. After all, you could say Parker’s work follows the path blazed by Scott-Heron.

Specifically, the music of “The Revolution Will Not Be Televised”—simultaneously emphatic and unobtrusive, perfect background music for language that needs to be listened to—would pair well with Parker’s Magical Negro, published in February by Tin House.

Like Scott-Heron at his best, Magical Negro is full of fierce, unapologetic work. It is a collection of driving, restless poems; at the height of its powers, Magical Negro grabs its reader by the head and shouts at them to pay attention. Look, look now, it demands.

Here’s the opening of its “The History of Black People”:

1.

The saddest triptych is our blood, trouble passed down. A root out on our wet stiff suits. Everyone walks behind us. I would rather dance hoodwinked with the devil than be alone. I pick bad juju over yellow meadow and your moon.

Comprising forty poems across three sections—”Let Us Now Praise Famous Magical Negroes,” “Field Negro Field Notes,” and “Popular Negro Punchlines”—Magical Negro is Parker’s third book, after There Are More Beautiful Things Than Beyoncé (Tin House, 2017) and Other People’s Comfort Keeps Me Up at Night (Switchback Books, 2015). The book, aside of course from containing Parker’s sharpest work to date, is a delight of titles. Here are a few of my favorites:

Magical Negro #217: Diana Ross Finishing a Rib in Alabama, 1990s

Whites Only

Who Were Frederick Douglass’s Cousins, and Other Quotidian Black History Facts That I Wished I Learned in School

Ode to Fried Chicken’s Guest Appearance on Scandal

The Black Saint & the Sinner Lady & the Dead & the Truth

IT WAS SUMMER AND THE COLORED PEOPLE CAME OUT INTO THE SUNSHINE*

*The all caps are Parker’s.

In case the collection’s title and the above don’t make it clear, Magical Negro’s broad subject is race. Specifically, America’s historical and ongoing mistreatment—mistreatment is such an inadequate word—of black people, and Parker’s experience of being (a) black (woman) in America.

Her work is highly personal and generally direct; the first poem in the collection is “I Feel Most Colored When I Am Thrown Against a Sharp White Background.” However, this doesn’t mean Magical Negro isn’t subtle, because it is, often. It’s just that many of the collection’s poems begin by seizing the reader’s attention, often with their title, before settling into a quieter (if not necessarily less aggressive) mode. A good example of this is “When a Man I Love Jerks Off in My Bed Next to Me and Falls Asleep” which of course begins with its, uh, attention-grabbing title and then moves into lines about the speaker’s father and suffering and shame.

Reading Magical Negro (both as reader, and how the speaker comes across) is akin to the scene from A Clockwork Orange when Alex is forced to watch violent films as a means of suppressing his violent tendencies. Here are some lines from “I Feel Most Colored...”

I feel most colored when I am thrown against a mattress,     my tits my waist my ankles buried in. White ash. Everyone claps I feel most colored when I am the punchline. When I am     the trigger. In the dawn, putrid yellow, I know what I am being told. My country pisses on my grave. My country bigger than god.

I saw Parker—with whom I worked briefly, during which time we met exactly once—read at Hugo House a few weeks ago. Her reading was a performance in the truest sense of the word, one which I wasn’t sure I was into at the time, as I tend toward quieter, almost murmuring poetry readings. But upon reflection, my proclivities aside, I realize Magical Negro should be performed and not simply read, because its cadences are similar to both sermons’ and slam poetry’s. Also because the work demands volume.

Which brings us back to Gil Scott-Heron’s Small Talk at 125th And Lenox. It’s a remarkable but uneven record, with Scott-Heron’s delivery and forcefulness going a long way to make every piece successful. But some poems/tracks, haven’t aged well, particularly “The Subject Was Faggots,” and it’s almost better to pretend they’re not on the album. Likewise, Magical Negro isn’t without its flaws: I found the more prosey poems weaker than those in lines; some pieces are overly diaristic and meander; and “Matt,” about the similarities between the white men the speaker dates, falls flat.

However, these missteps, such as they are, are only worth noting because the book is mostly so, so good. Magical Negro is an exciting, upsetting, frustrating, engaging book of poetry, and we’re lucky to have it.

...

Cover image via Tin House. Clockwork Orange image via Wikimedia. Title quote from “The Revolution Will Not Be Televised.”

[hati-skoll]

NOCT ME UP

[AO3] [Kinkmeme Prompt]

You are receiving this email because you've chosen to subscribe to Noct Me Up's weekly e-newsletter, if you no longer wish to receive exciting updates about our booty-licious prince's daring exploits, please click here.

Greetings fellow Nocturnes!

We interrupt the month-long memorial for His Royal Highness Noctis Lucis Caelum with exciting news. Our beloved prince is alive! That's right, folks, the sexiest bachelor of Insomnia can be felled by no giant, laser-blasting daemon.

There have been numerous sightings of our lovely angel in black corduroys all over Leide, Duscae and Cleigne over the past couple of weeks, accompanied by a presently unidentified trio – likely candidates include Ignis Scientia from the noble House of Scientia, Prince Noctis' loyal Chamberlain; Gladiolus Amicitia from the warrior House of Amicitia, steadfast shield to our future king; Cor Leonis the Immortal; and Prompto Argentum, Prince Noctis' high school classmate. Anyone who is able to provide further information pertaining to His Highness' companions will be generously compensated. Please direct all relevant emails to princewatch@noctmeup.com.

In light of the heartening news, this week's issue of Noct Me Up will feature a collection of personal accounts detailing Prince Noctis' post-invasion affairs.

Prince Noctis is flawless.

This is a fact we're all very familiar with, but it appears those outside the walls of Insomnia have yet to be blessed by the blinding glory of our esteemed prince. Nevertheless, a chance encounter with his illustrious personage has sent the patrons at Hammerhead reeling.

"So, uh, everyone out here knows, if you wanna get your car fixed, you go to Cid. Best mechanic in these parts, y'know? I mean, of course you do," says starry-eyed customer, Moretum Caesar, "So anyway, I've bust my engine just that morning when I was out on an errand for ma, I don't know what I did to it, I mean if I did, I wouldn't be at Cid's. Had the car towed to the garage and Cid tells me I gotta get in line. Turns out a couple of unlucky schmucks got their car in a pretty bad shape.

"Happens all the time out here. The roads are pretty mean; they'll wear out your tires the way a pack of sabertusks'll run down a weary hunter- Sorry, got a little gruesome there.

"Anyway, the roads here ain't nothing like the shiny black asphalt they've got back in the Crown City. So I'm feeling pretty bad for these guys, might've lent a hand, I don't know, offered them some of ma's fresh leiden pepper- We've got the freshest produce in Duscae, and they're only going for twenty gil a piece!

"Uh, right, but then, when I was walking outta the garage, I saw her. No, not Cindy. The car. It was massive. Built like it could take on a behemoth. I was staring at her thinking, [REDACTED]. That's a damned fine ride. Didn't look anything like any of the cars in these parts. Insomnia-make, could tell from a mile away. And maybe I was feeling… a little less charitable towards… city-folks, you know. Probably rich kids, who've had it good all their lives.

"And that's when I saw him. Well, them. But him. Yeah, I think they were trying to go, what's the term, 'in cognito'? Yeah? Sure ain't cognito from where I was standing. They were wearing the crown's colours, all black. And the prince. Man, I ain't one of those poetic types. But I'd sure as hell try for him. See, he was running towards the garage from across the road – not looking both sides, because all the cars in the world would stop for His Royal Highness.

"I'm not being snarky. With a face like that, and an ass- this isn't going to get me in trouble with the Crownsguard, is it? No? You're sure? Well, an ass like that, all perky and tight, could stare at it for years. Not that I'd ever think of touching. Ever. I mean, he's the prince. So there's no need for any of the Crownsguard to be knocking on my door in the middle of the night.

"Yeah, anyway, he jogged over, hair flipping like in one of those fancy hair commercials. The light all golden and rosy around him, and his skin looked… astral-kissed, all shiny and soft.

"Then he stopped right in front of me, kind of looked at me through his bangs. And he said, hey. He said hey. Hey. Can you imagine? The prince! I think I was standing there for fifteen minutes or something even after they left. And that's when I was hit with the epiphany, you know."

Yes, we do, Prince Noctis is flawless.

I hear his hair's insured for ten million gil.

After assuring Tom Laesus, part-time hunter and self-proclaimed lamialogist, that no, we're not from the empire, and no, we wish no harm on the honourable Crown Prince of Lucis, the NMU team is treated to a most delightful tale of His Highness' never-ending compassion, and surprising insight into the royal beauty regiment.

"Prince Noctis saved my life! He just swooped in and, kapow, wham, bam! Magic sword! And then whoosh, right across the field. And then he did this thingy, and it was like ziiing, glowy weapons all around him. And then he pfkuk, shzoosh, krrek the [REDACTED] out of those [REDACTED] voretooths, and I swear a giant mother-[REDACTED] astral appeared and it was huge and then it was like BOOOOOM!

"And I was- Huh? You want me to back up a little?

"Okay. Yup. [I took up a hunt at] Wiz Chocobo Post. We've been running low on gil lately, and Jen – that's my little sister – needs to see her paediatrician. She's got a lung condition. And it was supposed to be an easy job.

"I'm not suicidal! One gigantoad isn't so bad. I'm a pretty decent shot, so I can kinda snipe it from afar? Anyway. I bagged the job, and I was heading back to Wiz to collect my gil. But this [REDACTED] pack of voretooths showed up all of a sudden, and they were right on my [tail]!

"I knew I had to get to higher ground or I'd be [in serious trouble]. But it was raining, and I just spent half an hour sniping a gigantoad and I was tired, which means careless; and yup, one of them messed up my ankle pretty bad, before I found a decent ledge to take cover on.

"I thought I was going to be daemon fodder for sure! The sun was setting. I was out in the wild, my leg hurt, the voretooths were still out there. We're talking major, major [REDACTED]-fest. Chances of survival looked close to nil.

"So whatever, I started yelling for help. Pretty sure no one would hear me. But… I wasn't just going to lie back and think of Lucis while daemons made mincemeat out of me!

"And Prince Noctis appeared. Prince Noctis! Can you believe it? I thought I was hallucinating. Or dead! Or dead and hallucinating! But there he was! Just schmosh! Cutting the voretooths down like they're… like they're flies!

"He had the guy with glasses hand me a potion after they took care of the [REDACTED] beasts. Prince Noctis was totally chill about it, although I think he was kinda upset that they messed up his hair? I mean, it still looked pretty [REDACTED] awesome to me!

"Uh, I might've told him I'd pay for the damages. Brain to mouth filter went down after all that splooosh. His big, brawny bodyguard dude told me not to bother – kinda implied I wouldn't be able to afford it. Which is, well, duh. I hear his hair's insured for ten million gil or something.

"Although the insurance company's probably under Niflheim control now, if it still exists-

"Guy with glasses was promising the prince to cook up some fancy tomato hair paste? While they were walking away? Prince Noctis didn't seem too psyched about it."

I hear he does car commercials. In Altissia.

The hunters around Cape Caem were a lot more tight-lipped about Prince Noctis' whereabouts, but we are nothing if not tenacious when it comes to news regarding His Royal Highness. After several days of scouting the area, the NMU team chanced upon a friendly restaurateur who's been dealing carrots with a "quite charming" group of four. We've been led to believe that the Prince's retinue is growing a farm right on Cape Caem. But it appears Prince Noctis has bigger plans than agriculture in store.

"Ah, yes. They've rather capable green thumbs, those boys," Tony Cauponi says fondly, "Even though one of them seems to detest carrots quite profusely. Such a shame, caem carrots make for a most delectable palate, quite the rage over at Cupona.

"Hm? A description of the boy? Black hair, blue eyes, I believe- About my height? Yes, I'd say about there. And a penchant for black, which his friends share.

"Handsome lads, all of them. I hear they're in the fashion industry, just enjoying a bit of nature in their free time. The blond one said something about being seaside supermodels. He was taking a lot of pictures, probably for their portfolio. That's quite important for models.

"Anything else I heard? You're fans of the lads, aren't you? Well, let's see…

"The muscled one – he's a sports model, isn't he, considering his physique – was telling his more genteel, high-fashion friend – the one with coiffed chestnut hair and glasses? – that Blue Eyes had been 'taking forever and refused to put the rod back in'.

"I think Blue Eyes replied with, 'All you did was tell me to 'put my back in it'. It was frickin' huge and my arms were tired, alright?'

"Ah. I'm not sure I want to speculate on what they were talking about. Could be plenty of things. Like sex, or… gravure modelling? Or… sex?

"The bespectacled gentleman praised Blue Eyes for his persistence and assured him that he's 'getting much better' and that he does in fact have, ahem, 'a good sense of when to relax and when to use his muscles, although he has been rather tensed lately, so maybe they ought to take some time that night to massage him properly and get him adequately loosened up?'.

"I didn't catch Blue Eyes' response, but he must've been on board with that plan, because there weren't any protests coming from his quarter.

"The smaller blond one was chattering about the quality of Altissia's beds, so maybe that's where they're heading for their next shoot? He said something getting a car on a boat, and how that'll make 'a wicked picture'.

"Huh, I'm guessing, sea-themed car commercials? In Altissia. Sounds like an interesting concept."

Well. If Prince Noctis' looking for a career change, then I'm sure his future works will be highly anticipated!

One time, he met First Secretary Camelia at a bar. And she told him he was pretty.

If that isn't enough to excite you, we're sure the next account will have you on the edge of your seats. One of our subscribers sent us an email a couple of days ago with a few attached pictures. With her permission, we're publishing the contents of the email below: (We're sure you'll find this as interesting as we did!)

Hey girls, you'll never guess who I saw down at Maagho bar.

[princesexyaf1.jpg]

Tell me that isn't His Royal Sexiness Prince Naughty Noctis. I dare you. Tell me it isn't him. He's even more gorgeous in person dfdahbjvfa Like you can't see in the photos, but I swear those eye lashes are just wasted on a guy. Are we sure he doesn't use mascara? Like are we actually sure?

Anyway, he and his boy toys showed up out of the blue, looking all sensually dishevelled mmm… I wonder what they've been doing to get their hair and clothes all mussed like that. [Friendly reminder that Noct Me Up frowns upon hate mails directed at any of His Highness' love interests.] Came sashaying in like they totally do not have the empire riding their asses.

[princesexyaf2.jpg]

Also, you see that second photo, where he's standing with his hip cocked and his shirt riding up? Our boy has abs! And he was totally flaunting it for his boyfriends, I kid you not. Bending over every flat surface like he's asking for a pounding. The blond one, Prompto iirc, Prince Noctis' classmate(?), he was taking photos like his life depended on it.

Ok I tried to secretly video them, and let me tell you, it was hard. It's like those boys have ESPN or something. They turn every time I have my phone camera up. But whatever, at least I got Something.

[princesexyafnbfs.mp4]

The footage is shaky and grainy, tilted at about 60 degrees off-centre, but it focuses on Noctis' figure as he leans over a barrel – back arched and ankles crossed. Prompto laughs, bumping into Noctis' side as he enthuses about something. It's inaudible due to white noise and background static, but he's pointing at his camera. They move closer, so their bodies are pressed flush against one another, almost huddling. Ignis draws Noctis' attention after a few seconds, and Noctis turns to him. After a short exchange, Ignis leans forward. It's unclear from the angle, but one might assume the prince's advisor is taking liberties. Gladiolus soon enters the frame, casually mussing Noctis' hair with a smug grin. Noctis tries to duck. He fails, and his pout is visible despite the bad video quality. There's a bit of rough-housing, before Gladiolus abruptly freezes. He turns to stare directly into the camera, at which point, the camera spins and the feed cuts to black.

And it's like so obvious they've a Thing. I mean, c'mon. Did you not see that kiss? That was so obviously a kiss. They make such a cute couple. Or foursome. #LOVEWINS Look, all I'm saying is, if Prince Butter-My-Muffins wants his muffins buttered, then who are we to judge? Plus that's some very Fine men he's toting about, I wouldn't blame him for wanting in on that meat sandwich.

Now for the juicy deets, First Secretary Camelia popped by all casual-like to have a word with His Royal Pinchable-Cheeks. Totally not suspicious at all, no siree. Walked straight right up to Weskham and asked for his "pretty boy guests" because everyone's clearly been waiting for Prince Noctis to show up after that announcement about the Oracle.

They were talking real soft and secretive, but I swear the First Secretary invited Prince Noctis back to her apartment 'to discuss terms'. I'm betting they're here for amnesty, the prince and his boyfriends. It only makes sense, since Accordo's the only place with any sort of independence from the Empire. Am I right or amirite?

Since the treaty's screwed six ways to Sunday, he can even tie the knot with one of his boy toys. That's what couples come to Altissia for – no, not the view. Cheap marriage licenses!

You think they'll have a fake King Regis officiating, or is that too tasteless?

One time he stabbed me with his sword. It was awesome.

Our last entry comes from a mysterious man in a fedora who has identified himself as Nydra Ainuzi. He approached one of our Accordo-based NMU associates shortly after we received the email informing us about Prince Noctis' impending elopement. Nydra considers himself, "a well-informed expert on Lucian royalty, their retainers and all other matters concerning the Crown and Crystal," and he has been "paying special attention to the so prodigious last son of Lucis Caelum."

"Where do I begin, where do I begin? Oh, there is just so much to tell about the beautifully tragic Prince Noctis.

"Shall we begin with his battle habits? I think we shall. Behold, the brave and heroic Prince Noctis. He's nimble and quick and oh so skilled with his weapons, and [sharp intake of breath] dear me, is His Royal Highness carrying a moogle plushie into battle?

[ardynsphoto1.jpg]

"Heavens, who would have guessed that the prince was so attached to stuffed animals? To think he'd be childish enough to lug one around while fighting, such disappointing disregard for proper battle etiquette- I do need that photo back. It was stolen, as in borrowed from someone.

"Yes, a blond-budding-photographer someone.

"Well. I guess he wouldn't miss it.

"Hm, I see you're quite charmed by the prince's utterly unprofessional attachment to toys. But have you seen this appallingly indecent cosplay he did for that crass video game festival?

[ardynsphoto2.jpg]

"Oh, you're swooning. Yes, it's awfully risqué of the prince. What a blatant lack of respect for decorum, showing so much skin- No, you cannot have that photo. It's borrowed.

"Oh fine.

"You seem quite pleased to have seen Noctis' n- nipple. I can't say I understand the appeal.

"I beg your pardon?

"You wish to know of the prince's steamy dalliances with his secret paramours? Oho, I can definitely help you with that. Let's see here.

[ardynsphoto3.jpg]

"Feast your eyes.

"Indeed, how terribly promiscuous- Such unruly behaviour from a scion of the distinguished line of Lucis, no less. I'm sure you're all quite horri… fically excited.

"Because it is obviously a cause for celebration – to have a sexually active prince, enamoured with his very male attendants. No cause for concern at all. None at all. The lack of heirs would be sending no one into a state of panic.

"Do you even-

"Why, I'm sure you would even be pleased to know that the prince once stabbed me with his sword. Quite brutally. Are you excited about that, hm? Do his violent tendencies not faze you?  Do they not cloud your sunnily enthusiastic support of whatever that brat-

"I don't think I expected so shrill a reaction, but it's rather flattering to know that you feel so strongly about my well-being- What?

"Was it what? Awesome? Are we on the same page?

"Was it awesome to be stabbed by Prince Noctis' sword? I- Do I look particularly prone to masochistic tendencies? Well, I suppose being tormented and ravaged by daemons for two thousand years does that to-

"You know what, yes. Yes, it was awesome. I absolutely enjoyed being impaled on the pointy end of his magic metal phallic symbol. You can put that down in your little publication. Good day.

"And keep that photo."

And there you have it, the life and times of our ever beloved, ever righteous Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum. Watch out for next week's issue of Noct Me Up to find out more about His Royal Highness' devoted bedmates and their amazing sexcapades.

Please view our Terms and Conditions, or refer to our Privacy Policy for more information. Noct Me Up is a Noct-for-Profit organization, dedicated to delivering the naughtiest Noctis content for all the ardent con-noct-sseurs out there.

[lollercakesff]

soft touch

chapter six | ao3 pairing: shirbert rating: mature wordcount: 3,105

The December air slips through the door of the cafe and skitters across my skin, chilling me as I sip at my tea and make notes on some of the files I’ve brought with me. I’ve tucked myself into the corner table in an effort to get some real work done before the day is out, if only to have time to make my house presentable to welcome Bash and Mary and their three children for the holidays.

Christmas had come upon me before I even realized, the cooler temperatures and a flu bug going around compounding my workload so that I barely had time to eat, let alone think about how the people around me were doing. How Anne was doing.

Though we saw each other more regularly now - she’d admitted she’d stopped trying to avoid me as of late - there was still a tightness in the way she held herself back when she was near me. I tried not to notice, tried to keep my thoughts from getting caught up in it, but it was a challenge I had to concede. She was an enigma now, reserved and quiet, prone to quick escapes and terrified of a touch from anyone but Susan.

That was the hardest part for me to wrap my head around. Every time I moved in a way that signaled I intended to do more than the briefest contact she flinched away, recoiling to a distance that was impossible to miss. I couldn’t blame her - it was improper for me to even try - but old habits were hard to break, even after all this time. The only time I was permitted to really get close was during our check-ups after her illness and even those were moments where I was Doctor Blythe and nothing else.

I worked hard not to take it personally, to keep my hands tucked in my pockets and in a place where I wouldn’t be tempted, but sometimes it was hard to stop myself from trying to comfort her, especially on evenings after school where she stopped by the surgery simply to sit in silence and wait for Susan to finish the weekly shopping.

Those instances were always the most vexing. She would knock on the door lightly, almost as if she was hoping I wouldn’t hear and then proceed to sit quietly in the waiting room as I worked on paperwork.

One evening I made the mistake of asking her about it, hoping to understand why she chose to sit with me rather than shop with Susan, or even be at home. Turning to me with the most broken look I’d ever seen cross her face, she sighed and got to her feet.

“I prefer not to be alone, is all,” she’d replied and left without a goodbye to head back into the street.

I hadn’t dared ask her more after that, simply letting her keep company with me when I was in the office and giving her the space to be at peace whenever I could. It was an odd arrangement, I knew, but I couldn’t turn her away after I everything I’d learned. If she found safe harbour in the surgery then I would let her have it without question. I could do that for her.

Sighing, I look down at my notes and huff out a breath. The words were scattered and slanted and my eyes hurt from focusing on the pages for the last few hours.

“More tea,” I murmur, recognizing the solution before covering up the pages and moving to slide my chair back.

“May I sit with you?” Anne’s quiet voice says over my shoulder, my gaze snapping up to where she holds two cups of tea in her hands. I nod and watch as she settles down across from me, her face nipped red from the cold. “This is for you,” she adds and moves the teacup towards me quickly, sighing when the tea slips over the edge and onto the table.  

“Thanks,” I reply and move my papers out of the way, tucking them in my folders and looking towards her with a small smile. “How are you today, Miss Wright?”

She shrugs and lifts her tea to her lips, her eyes dropping to the table. “Well enough, I suppose.”

“I’m glad to hear it. I guess the school semester is almost out? Are you looking forward to the break?” I ask as an attempt to bring her out of the shell she typically hides in in public now.

“Yes - it finished up yesterday. I’ll miss it but I am looking forward to a few quiet days to read by the fire, I will admit,” she adds with a low chuckle. The sound of it brings a smile to my mouth and I relish it for a moment. She didn’t laugh often and whenever I managed to get it out of her it made my heart swell with pride.

“Glad to hear that. I’ve heard good things from the students in the area which is high praise since they’re notoriously hard to please,” I offer and settle in for what I hope will be a conversation that sets our regular silence aside. “Do you have any plans for the break?”

She shifts in her chair and looks at the table. “Susan has invited me to her daughter’s home with her for a week but I don’t want to impose on them. I think I’ll just take the time to do some lesson planning and enjoy the peace and quiet.”

Her words catch me by surprise and before I realize it my mouth is moving with an offer I won’t take back. “Why don’t you spend Christmas with us? Bash and Mary are coming for the holidays, I’m sure they’d love to see you again.”

Sitting before me her shoulders tighten and she freezes, like a deer caught out early in a field. The colouring in her cheeks pales and she blinks, looking stricken.

“Do they know I’m here?” She breathes, her chest rising and falling quickly. I see the panic rise in her and I try cut it off before it starts, sitting up straighter and looking at her head on.

“No - nobody does. Cordelia…” I wish I could reach for her. Wish I could say her real name and bring her back from the edge but know that it would do more harm than good.

“Are you sure?” It comes out cracking before she exhales forcefully, shaking her head and looking away. I can practically see herself pulling back from the anxiety that’s clouding her reaction.

“One hundred percent. I only offered because I know you hate to be alone and I don’t - I can’t bear to think of you alone on Christmas,” I whisper so that only she can hear, my hand sliding across the table with my palm up signalling that I’m here if she wants my comfort. Her hand shifts from the teacup and her fingers graze across mine, the lightest touch giving me hope.

“Will you talk to them before - before I come? Will you explain? I couldn’t… I mean I don’t want to ruin - “

“You wouldn’t ruin anything, ever, I promise. They’ve missed you all these years. And I can discuss it with them when they get here so they understand why - why you’re you now.” I stumble over how to talk about her secrets without giving anything away. Though Mrs Lynde is far away back in Avonlea, I know there are others in this small town who would feed on a good story just the way she had while we were growing up and I was determined not to let that happen.

“I don’t know,” she says quietly after a moment, withdrawing her hands into her lap and leaving me reaching for her. Though I want to draw back with the rejection I force myself to stay open to her, desperate for her to see that I’m not hurt by what she needs from me, or even by what she doesn’t.

“Well, we’ll set a place for you anyways. We will eat at four and then attend the service that evening. Bash always loves the caroling part even though he can’t sing at all.” She laughs at that, relaxing more with each mention of Bash and my family back in Avonlea.

“It sounds wonderful, Gil. I do sorely miss home. Diana invited me to spend the break with her family but I don’t think it’s wise to go back yet,” she admits lowly, glancing around the small cafe with her practiced eye. I look too, recognizing each of the faces in the room and understanding the constant awareness she has for her surroundings now.

It strikes me then that she must miss Avonlea dearly, her self-imposed exile causing her loneliness to amplify. She had no one this year, not even the charade of family she had with Roy. Marilla was gone and visiting Diana wasn’t yet something she deemed feasible, the risk far outweighing a few days by herself. Though it troubled me I tried not to let it show, choosing instead to focus on the memories from past Christmases and particularly the year when Bash first came to Avonlea.

“We won’t be able to top Diana’s Christmas I’m sure but I promise you’ll enjoy some good island food, at the very least.” She looks up at me at that, a smile lighting her features.

“Let me think about it. I should be getting on now - Susan planned to leave this evening and I said I’d see her off at the train.” Anne finishes her tea and touches her fingers to my hand once more, glancing up at me shyly. I smile back at her and curl my fingers into my palm, bringing hers with them. She doesn’t pull away and I could burst at the thrill that jolts through me.

“Wish her well for me,” I say as she eventually withdraws, getting to her feet to wrap her scarf around herself tightly.

“I will,” she promises and disappears through the door, the cold wind from outside cooling the blush from my features as I watch her go.

“Bash! Mary!” I shout as they disembark the train, their hands full as they wrangle children and luggage onto the platform. The kids immediately follow my voice and crash into my legs, nearly knocking me over as I laugh at the impact and drop to my knees.

“Uncle Gilbert!” They shout in unison, the twin girls Hazel and Martha grabbing at my arms and little Seb jumping for attention in front of me.

“I’m so glad to see you! You’re all growing so big!” I exclaim heartily, pulling them all in for a tight hug.

“Papa says you say that because you’re never home to see us,” Hazel mumbles into my shoulder, her words causing me to laugh abruptly as I look up towards Bash.

“He does, does he?” I grin and stand up to embrace Bash and Mary in a long overdue hug. “I’m so glad you guys could make it. I couldn’t get anyone to cover to go home so - “

“We know, you don’t have the explain it to us again,” Bash laughs, ruffling my hair and pulling Mary tightly to his side. “Besides - they loved the train ride, even if it was a bit much for the other passengers.”

“Stop, they were fine!” Mary sighs and lifts her hand to my cheek. “You look different than the last time we saw you. Tired still, but there’s something else…”

“I bet it’s a girl. He always gets that dreamy look when - “ Bash teases before Mary slaps his shoulder to hush him.

I pause and smile, shaking my head and turning to lead them to the sleigh I’ve prepared outside the station. “You’ll never guess who’s here,” I say as we walk through the busy station.

“If you tell me it’s that An-” It’s my turn to shoot him a look, his lips closing halfway through the name at my expression. The kids stumble into me at the abrupt stop and Mary looks between us, her brow furrowing.

“Maybe we’ll talk about this all at home, alright?” She interjects and I nod, motioning us once more towards the exit and onto the sleigh. When we’re all settled in I steer us home leaving the horde of people behind.

Once back at the house I let them settle in and busy myself with preparing the tea, so used to waiting on myself that when Mary shuffles in a few moments later I’m surprised when she chastises me for going to the effort.

“You’re my guest, Mary, of course I’m going to make you all tea,” I hiss as she slaps my hand away from the stove.

“Really - don’t you have a housekeeper for this yet? You’re a doctor, you can’t be expected to run a home and work at all hours! Maybe that’s why you’re so exhausted,” she chides and begins setting the tray full with the bakery items I’d purchased for their arrival. She tuts at the pre-made sweets, shaking her head as I remind her that I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.

Later, after Mary prepares and serves supper I insist on letting them focus on getting the children to bed while I prepare a nightcap. When we settle into the small parlour later that evening, the warm scent of aromatic food still lingering in the air, I breathe a sigh of relief at having my family here.

“What has you so happy lately boy?” Bash starts abruptly, running his fingers along Mary’s shoulders in that annoyingly affectionate way that I envy. “I figure you wanted to tell us since you brought it up at the station.”

I clear my throat and smile softly, thinking of how best to bring up the topic with them after all this time. There was no doubt that they would be happy to see Anne but I wanted to be sure I would do it right. The history between us was thick enough already and I needed my family to understand that it wasn’t like before - they couldn’t tease us like they used to, or imply anything of the sort because I knew it would make her uncomfortable, if not abrasive like a cornered animal.

No, they had to get it. I had to figure out a way to make them understand.

“She’s here, isn’t she?” Mary says when my pensive look turns soft.

“Yes.” Is all I can say as I turn over what’s next in my mind. Bash sits up and leans his elbows on his knees, chin in his hand.

“I thought she was married to that fellow from the College,” he mumbles as he watches me shift, concern apparent in his gaze. Though Bash had always been pro-Anne, the truth was really that he was pro-Blythe-happiness, first and foremost. His concern was for the hurt that I had opened myself up to with seeing her again, his worry that it would drag me back down to the half-living person I was in school.

“She was. But…” I pause uneasily, hesitant to share her story without her being here. I wanted to prepare Bash and Mary for seeing her again, seeing the changes in her, but I didn’t want them to know the details of it all - not without her telling them herself. “It didn’t work. She’s - she’s here but nobody is to know that it’s her. She’s going by Cordelia Wright and is teaching - “

“Gilbert,” Mary sighs, watching me carefully. There’s a sadness in her eyes that I can’t miss.

“She had a rough time of it, Mary. I don’t want to go into the details but she’s different now. She’s still kind and caring but she isn’t the same person so I don’t want you to be surprised and ask her a lot of questions because I’m afraid that she’ll get upset,” I admit and shake my head, blinking back a rush of feelings. When I look up it’s Bash who gets to his feet first and pulls me into a crushing hug. I feel myself come apart as the man holds me tightly to his chest, his arms wrapping around my shoulders.

We stand there for a few moments, the surprise at my own tears wearing off as I eventually pull away and rub at my eyes. I hadn’t realized I’d been holding all of this in since I saw her in the window’s reflection that first day. I’d stuffed it away, hidden the relief and the worry and the reality of her story into a place where I didn’t have to process it. But Bash had always had a way of showing me with just a look that I could tell him things that I wouldn’t tell anyone else and this had been no different. He was my brother, my family, and he understood me better than almost anyone else in this world.

“You’ve loved that girl for a long time,” Bash says as he eases back down onto the couch before tucking Mary into his side sweetly. She wipes at her tears and slides her arm around his shoulders, resting against his chest and watching me slip back into my chair.

“I invited her to Christmas dinner. I probably should have asked - “

“Don’t be silly, of course she’s welcome,” Mary chuckles and sighs, looking at me curiously. “Is there something else? Something going on between the two of you?”

“No. And I’d prefer that we didn’t bring anything like that up. I just - with Marilla gone I didn’t want her to spend it alone. Can we just pretend that all of that stuff in the past is just that - in the past?” I urge them to agree, my expression pleading. It was this or it couldn’t happen - I wouldn’t let the past come back to haunt us.

“You have our word, right Bash?” He nods and smiles, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Promise. Although I am thinking perhaps we’ll need to spice up dinner a bit since we’ll have guests. Do you think she’d appreciate some crab callaloo, if we could find the ingredients?” Bash offers, rubbing his hands together excitedly.

The rest of the evening passes quickly, familiar and comfortable conversation and joking making me feel more relaxed than I’d been in a long while. When eventually we all head to bed I do so with a lighter heart, one actually looking forward to tomorrow and having everyone together for the afternoon.