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Uncertain Feelings

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Florence sat on her bedroom floor, throwing one dress after another and murmuring mild profanities beneath her breath. She was supposed to travel to Charlottetown with Anne the next day for Josephine's annual party, but she couldn't decide what to wear. The girl only had a limited number of party dresses to select from, and she'd worn every one of them at least once before.

She thought mindlessly to herself as she hurled a pastel green dress across the room and into the pile of other rejected garments, "This is so frustrating."

She had just gotten permission from her grandparents to attend Josephine's celebration the weekend before. Sure, it took some coaxing, but they eventually agreed, especially since Edgar had met Josephine at the workshop and thought she was a lovely lady. Although Elizabeth disapproved of his liking for another woman, it was beside the point.

Florence's eyes twinkled as she skimmed through a few more garments and came across a lovely purple gown with petaled rims. She rose from her seat and walked up to the vanity mirror, where she positioned the dress across from her body on the mirror. The dreadful stain on her blouse made her gasp loudly. She threw the dress away and sunk back down onto the floor, whimpering miserably. She'd never be able to find something to wear at this pace. She'd never be able to board the train if she didn't find something to wear, and then she'd be unable to attend the party.

Edgar walked into the room at that very moment, his eyes widening slightly at the sight before him. The entire room was in shreds as if an earthquake had only struck this area and left the rest of the home unaffected. Mumbling something incoherent, he left the room at once to bring his wife.

Elizabeth entered the room alone a minute later, and instead of seeming astonished like her husband, she immediately glanced at the room for her granddaughter, who was slumped down on the wooden floor. Sighing, the woman walked over to the younger girl and knelt at her level. "Dear, why is your room so messy?"

"Oh, grandmother, it's absolutely terrible! The party is in two days and I can't figure out what to wear." Florence covered her face with her hands and let out a very unladylike scream.

"You have a lot of gowns now, Florence. With a little help, I'm sure you'll find one." Elizabeth started scrolling through the remaining gowns that weren't in the rejects pile and pulled out a baby yellow one after a few moments. She smiled as she handed it to the girl. "How about this one?"

Florence studied it for a second before hurling it across the room. Elizabeth's mouth gaped in surprise.

"I don't like yellow," she explained as if that was a sufficient reason.

"Okay . . . We'll figure out your celebration outfit in a moment. First, you might as well find what you'll wear to Gilbert Blythe's house in the afternoon. You're paying him a visit today, aren't you?"

Florence's eyes shot up at the clock on the wall and suddenly felt like crying. Gilbert had invited her to visit him later that day, and she had entirely forgotten about it. The girl considered sobbing her eyes out because she was so stressed over needing to decide what to wear at Josephine's party and now she was almost late for her meet up ⸺ but decided against it because she knew that it would just waste more time. I can wail over my problems later.

"I simply must choose an outfit right now before heading over to Gilbert's. I might return home later on today and won't have enough time to choose a dress. For the love of all things holy, I'm leaving for Charlottetown tomorrow."

A knocking was heard at the bedroom door and Edgar stood there, looking at the two women as if asking for silent permission to enter. At Elizabeth's signal, he entered cautiously, carrying an enormous gift box. "I notice that Florence is having trouble finding a dress, so I think it's about time I mentioned this."

"What's this?" Florence inquired, her gaze fixed on the red-ribbon-wrapped box.

Edgar cast a glance at Elizabeth, and the two exchanged a meaningful smile. He turned his attention back to his granddaughter and handed her the box. "Why don't you take a look for yourself?"

The brunette carefully unravelled the ribbon and opened the box, revealing a stunning floral pink gown with lace hems and puffed sleeves. She was absolutely awestruck.

"Happy birthday, Florence," Edgar wished quietly as the said girl looked up at him with tears in her eyes. She blinked them away as her dreamy smile lowered slightly.

"My birthday isn't today. It's going to be . . . tomorrow." Oh.

"Since your grandmother and I won't be able to join you in Charlottetown for our own little celebration, I figured we'd give you your present today."

"And a wonderful idea indeed, Ed." Elizabeth looked at her husband approvingly, paying him a small peck on the cheek. She glanced at the young girl expectantly. "Well, how do you like it?"

Florence remained silent. Instead, she embraced both of them in a warm embrace to express her acceptance and gratitude for the dress. This would be the dress that she'd wear at the party.

***

"Ay, Florence is here," Sebastian greeted with a warm grin.

"Ah, ah, I didn't come alone." Florence motioned to her picnic basket. "I come bearing cookies!"

"The sweets you bring are always delicious treasures." He opened the door wider to let her inside. When she stepped inside, he shut the door behind her. "Between you and me, your family's incredible baking is the reason that you're my favourite friend of Gilbert's."

"Why, thank you." Florence grinned cheekily as she slipped off her shoes and handed the basket over to Sebastian.

While Sebastian momentarily left the room to put the basket away in the kitchen, the girl looked around the house for Gilbert. She eventually spotted the young boy sitting at the coffee table in the living room. He was so engaged in his reading that he didn't notice her approaching him until she discreetly pulled his round glasses off his face and placed them on herself.

Gilbert rolled his eyes, about to scold Sebastian for interrupting him when he saw it was Florence instead. He took a quick glance at the clock and checked the time. Florence was coming to see him today, and he'd entirely forgotten about it. He just sat there, sighing gently and watching Florence try to read the book titles with the glasses still on, blinking owlishly when she couldn't understand what the books said.

"You don't usually wear glasses, do you?" she inquired as she removed his glasses and returned them to him. He took them right away, grazing his hand against hers while he did so.

"Only when I'm studying," he answered and placed them on the table. "Becoming a doctor requires a lot of focus, you see."

"I see fine. Not too sure about you though," she joked sarcastically as he scoffed at her lame attempt at being humorous.

Florence's gaze was drawn to the stacks of medical literature that surrounded the table. She chose one and began scanning through the pages, curiously humming. Despite the fact that she didn't understand a single word on the pages, it was fascinating to see just how far the world of medicine had progressed.

"So many chapters . . . this must take up a lot of your time, huh?" She returned her attention to Gilbert who simply nodded.

Before he could answer her, another voice from across the room was heard where Sebastian now stood. "A lot of time indeed. Blythe doesn't have much time on his hands. He doesn't even spend time with his buddies or help around the house." His voice had an accusatory tone to it, but Florence didn't make much of it.

Gilbert chuckled irritatedly. "That's only because I'm studying to be the best that I can be. In Trinidad, I discovered my aspirations, which I hope to fulfil here."

"There's nothing wrong with wanting to fulfil dreams, Blythe. However, one should always remember the promises they made prior to wanting to fulfil them."

"Perhaps there are some things that are more essential than unkept promises."

Florence shifted her gaze between the two men with confusion, who appeared to be attempting to provoke a fight with each other. Their voices were normal volumes, but it appeared like a fierce argument was on the horizon . . . and she was caught right in the middle of it.

"I still have some garden work to complete," Sebastian explained, "But you should keep our guest entertained."

Florence intended to say something along the lines of "there's really no need," but the man had already left before she could say anything. She moved her gaze carefully to Gilbert, who appeared to have just realized something. He returned her stare with a weak smile, which she failed to reciprocate.

"Um . . . take a seat on the sofa, and I'll go get us something to eat," Gilbert murmured as he rose from the floor. Florence grabbed his hand and ushered him back down before he could make an attempt to leave. With a sigh, he sat down once more.

"Is something wrong, Gilbert?" she asked but quickly corrected herself. "I mean, you don't have to tell me unless you want to . . . just know that I'm here for you. Whatever's troubling you, I'm⸺"

She stopped when she realized that she was rambling, a light blush coating her cheeks as Gilbert smiled at her warmly. "Nothing is wrong, Florence. Seb and I are just . . . well, we're just ourselves. Must be the changing weather or something."

"Oh, um, I'm glad to hear that."

Gilbert got to his feet again, and when he realized that they were still holding hands, he drew her up with him. Florence was taken aback when she realized that their faces were quite close to one another as they stood. She attempted to look away but couldn't because he wouldn't let go of his gaze on her either.

"Care to join me in preparing something to eat?" he whispered, eyes not yet leaving her face.

"Yes . . . No. No, um, you go on ahead. I'll wait for you," she explained quickly, "Let's see how The Great Gilbert Blythe cooks anyway."

He shrugged and it was only then that he looked away from her. Gently letting go of her hand, he swiftly turned directions and made his way out of the room and into the kitchen. Florence took a moment to calm her breathing and rapidly-paced heartbeat.

What in the world is wrong with me? she wondered to herself. More importantly, what's wrong with him? Has he always been so flirtatious? Or was she just imagining the entire thing and in reality, Gilbert was just being friendly?

In any case, she knew that she wasn't going to be able to relax easily, and Gilbert was right next door. So, Florence did what she knew best: run away from her problems. She flipped through Gilbert's notebook and tore off an empty page in one swift motion. Oblivious to the potential consequences of her actions, she scribbled a hasty excuse on the page, set the note on the table and quickly left the house.

Gilbert returned to the living room nearly a half-hour later, holding a tea tray with sandwiches and a pleased smile on his face (for cooking for the first time in his life and how he wanted to show it off to her since he felt like he needed her approval), and expected to see Florence there. When she wasn't in the room, however, he moved to place the tray on the coffee table and search for her elsewhere. His eyes caught sight of the note as he set the tray down. Picking it up, he read through it as a sad expression slowly made its way onto his face.

Something came up, so I had to leave. Enjoy the cookies!

⸺ Florence

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Author's Note:

This might be my last update for a while (a few weeks), so I made this one extra long. Sorry, just focusing on a bunch of things right now such as the other stories which I have recently introduced on Wattpad. When I gain inspiration to continue this story seeing as there are only a few chapters remaining, I will update it immediately. 

Stay tuned :)