The Haunted Wood was exactly as Mary had imagined from Anne’s descriptions—a grove of trees that would be appropriately spooky in the twilight, though in the bright morning sunshine, it was simply beautiful and slightly mysterious. She could imagine Anne and Diana running through here, scaring themselves with stories of ghosts and murdered brides.
Lover’s Lane was her favorite, though. The path wound through tall trees, dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy, and everything was quiet except for birdsong and the whisper of wind through leaves. Mary paused partway down the lane and opened her book again, finding another marked passage. “It’s been my experience that you can nearly always enjoy things if you make up your mind firmly that you will.” She pulled out her journal and flipped several pages back from her latest writing about the ship.
Her entries lately were often about Bert. And right now, she wished he was here to experience this place with her. Shaking her head to clear away the cobwebs, she jotted down notes and thoughts on what she was seeing for the first and hopefully not the last time.
“You’ve really loved these books, didn’t you?” Diane asked, rolling closer.
Mary was grateful it was Diane who’d spoken and not Colin. “Since I was eight years old,” Mary admitted. “My grandmother gave me the set. I’ve reread them constantly over the years.”
“What drew you to Anne?” Diane’s question was gentle, genuinely curious.
Mary considered that as they continued down the path. “As a child, I just loved the story of a little girl with a lot of spunk who made me laugh. When I was older, I rediscovered them. I think it was her spirit. The way she refused to be defeated by circumstances. She was an orphan, unwanted, arriving at a place where they’d specifically requested a boy and got her instead. She had every reason to be bitter or broken. Instead, she was fierce and imaginative and determined to make a good life for herself.” She paused. “I guess I’ve always admired that. The ability to face hard things and still find beauty and joy.”
Diane reached over and squeezed Mary’s hand, seeming to understand what Mary hadn’t said. After her accident, after everything changed, she’d needed Anne’s resilience. Needed that reminder that circumstances didn’t have to define you, that you could remake your life even when it wasn’t the life you’d planned.
They visited the L.M. Montgomery birthplace next, a small house in New London where the author had been born. Then the Anne of Green Gables Museum at Silver Bush, which housed artifacts from Montgomery’s life and career. Each stop was rich with history and connection to the books Mary loved, and despite Colin’s tendency to overexplain everything, Mary found herself deeply moved by the experience.
By the afternoon, they were all ready for a break. James drove them to a historic tea room in the village of Cavendish, a charming establishment that advertised itself as “Anne-inspired” and lived up to the promise. The entrance was easy to access, and they were shown to a quiet table near the windows, which looked out over a garden.
“This is perfect,” Mary said, settling in and accepting a menu from their server. “Thank you for arranging all of this, Diane. Today has been wonderful.”
“My pleasure, dear. It’s much more enjoyable to share these experiences with someone who appreciates them.” Diane ordered tea and scones with a decisive air, while Colin requested a full lunch menu. He had settled into the chair next to Diane, leaving George to be seated next to Mary.
The tea service arrived on a three-tiered stand, complete with delicate sandwiches, warm scones with jam and cream, and an assortment of petit fours. Mary poured tea for herself and Diane, adding cream and sugar to hers while Diane took hers plain. She offered tea to George, who accepted his cup with gracious thanks. She lifted her brow to Colin in silent question.
“Oh yes! How antiquated this seems!”
She ignored his statement and turned to take several tea cakes and tiny sandwiches to place on her plate.
“So, Mary,” Colin said, spreading jam liberally on a scone. “Diane mentioned you work in security? That must be fascinating. I have a friend who consults for private security firms in London. He’s always going on about the latest technology developments. Have you worked with any famous people, like movie stars? I think that sounds so interesting to meet the rich and famous…”
She didn’t have a chance to answer his questions before he was off, launching into a detailed explanation of security from stories that his friend had told him. Work was not what Mary wanted to discuss on her vacation, especially not with Colin. She nodded politely and made appropriate sounds of interest while quietly wishing Colin had chosen to join one of the more strenuous tours. She’d been looking forward to quiet conversation with Diane, woman to woman, sharing thoughts about Anne and books and life. Instead, she was getting a monologue on security to the stars.
Diane caught Mary’s eye over her teacup. She gave her an apologetic look, suggesting she recognized the issue but didn’t quite know how to redirect her nephew without hurting his feelings.
“Colin, dear,” Diane said finally, interrupting a particularly detailed explanation of encryption protocols. “I think Mary might prefer to simply enjoy her tea rather than discuss work.”
“Oh! Of course. Sorry.” Colin had the grace to look sheepish. “I get carried away sometimes. Hazards of spending too much time alone, I suppose. You forget how to have normal conversations.”
“It’s fine,” Mary assured him, meaning it. He was enthusiastic rather than malicious, and she could appreciate that, even if she found it a bit exhausting. “Tell me about your travels instead. Diane mentioned you’ve spent time in Asia?”
That proved to be a safer topic, and Colin regaled them with stories from his years working in Japan that were genuinely entertaining. He had a gift for description when he wasn’t trying too hard to impress, and Mary found herself laughing at his account of getting hopelessly lost in Tokyo despite having a GPS and a translation app.
By the time they finished tea and returned to the ship, Mary was pleasantly tired and full of the kind of contentment that came from a day well spent. She’d seen the places she’d dreamed about, traveled in the fictional Anne’s footsteps, and experienced the magic of Prince Edward Island firsthand.
After dinner, she retreated to her stateroom, showered, changed into pajamas, and settled on her bed with her phone. The ship had left port and was sailing toward their next destination, and Mary felt the gentle rocking beneath her like a lullaby.
She sent a text to Bert. Day 2 complete.
Her phone rang immediately, as though he was once again waiting on her. Laughing as she greeted him, she loved hearing his voice.
“What did you do today?”
“Visited all the Anne sites and they were everything I hoped for. Green Gables was perfect. Read passages from my book at various spots like a total tourist and didn’t even care.”
His soft chuckle met her ears. “Glad you got to do that. I can picture you, loving every minute. Did you cry happy tears?”
Mary smiled, but hearing him say he could picture her made her realize once again how much she would have loved to have him with her. Her chest deflated as the air left her lungs, and an ache settled in its place.