"I should think that would be clear where we're going by now, Felicity," he said, carefully striking out across the old path leading towards the lighthouse. Felicity looked up, realization crossing her face. She hurried to catch up with his longer strides.
"The lighthouse?" she replied inquiringly, and was rewarded with a broad smile on Gus's face. "How did you manage that?" she continued, wincing as Gus swung her case in his other hand. "Gus, please be careful with that!"
"Well, the current keeper needed a night off, and Felix owed me one and..." Gus began to explain, but was interrupted.
"Felix! Well, he certainly has been full of surprises today," exclaimed Felicity. "You knew about his joining the navy before today, didn't you?" She looked up at him accusingly. "I was so surprised...I thought he enjoyed his job at the White Sands."
Gus nodded, looking out towards the sea and slowing his step. "Yup, I did know," he replied. "He told me about joining up a few days ago." His face was serious and almost melancholy. When Gus fell into moods like this, Felicity could feel him shutting her out. She knew it was a reaction to the pain he had been through, but that knowledge brought little comfort.
"Are you jealous?" Felicity asked, a wistful tone in her voice, as she looked up at her husband. "Do you ever wish that you could go back to sea?"
Gus looked down at her, but didn't answer. In silence, they continued on their way, until they had arrived at the lighthouse door. Carefully they navigated the old steps. Felicity paused, unsure of what to do next. Gus inhaled deeply, placed the suitcase on the step, and looked down at his wife. "Am I jealous of Felix? Well, once the sea is part of you, it is hard to turn your back on it," Gus said slowly. "But I had my time, and I think I'll be happy to keep my feet on dry land for a few years yet." He gave a cynical laugh. "Besides, with my eyes, I don't think that the sea-faring life would be for me anymore."
Felicity took his arm and turned him towards her. "And there's no other reason that you'd want to stay on dry land?" she asked softly, a faintly coquettish tone in her voice. Her radiant blue eyes sparkled up at his, and Gus was once again reminded of how beautiful she was. For the agonizing time he had lain in the water after the Maid of Calais had exploded, her beautiful face with those deep blue eyes was all he had seen. Gus knew that she had kept him alive as surely as if she had been in the water beside him.
A slow smile spread across his face. His answer was not in words, but as his arms slid around her, they both quite forgot about the sea, the land, the navy, and Felix, wending his slow way home, alone with his thoughts.
* * * * *
The shore road stretched out in front of him like a red ribbon, woven amongst the golden fabric of the late summer fields. The sun, preparing to set, was growing more brilliant, a ruby set in the deep blue sky. As the horse jogged along, Felix stared pensively out in front of him, but the beauty around him was lost to his eyes. His mind was a thousand miles away, fashioning a vision of his future the smell of the sea, the sound of the crashing wave, of men shouting as they raised the sails and maneuvered the vessel in the heaving waves. He remembered the thrilling tales that Gus had told of his adventures--the Spice Islands, the Spanish ports, the exotic locales. Someday, it would be he telling the tales, when he returned to Avonlea. If he ever returned to Avonlea...
Felix was jolted out of his reverie by an indignant shout coming from the road behind him. "Felix King! The least you can do is wait up!" the voice exclaimed.
Felix whirled around and simultaneously brought the carriage to a halt. A petite figure was running up the road, holding her hat on her head in the ocean breeze. Felix groaned--how could he have driven right by Izzy and not noticed her? He couldn't blame her for being peeved. Izzy stopped breathless next to the carriage. Her eyes flashed and her cheeks were flushed, as she looked up at Felix. "Any particular reason you didnt feel like picking me up or even saying hello?" she asked bitingly.
Felix felt his own cheeks turning red. "Izzy, I'm really sorry," he began. "I didn't even see you--my mind was a million miles away." He quickly wrapped the reins around the carriage handle, and jumped down to the ground. Izzy barely got out of the way before his tall form landed in front of her. Felix reached out to take her hand, but she snatched it away before he could succeed.
"Izzy, I said I was sorry," he pleaded. "It's been a hectic day and I have a lot on my mind," he cajoled. "Forgive me, please." He made another attempt for her hand, and this time captured it in his. "Let me take you home--you were heading home, right?"
Izzy looked down at the ground, and then quickly back up at him. Her face softened.
"It's all right, Felix," she said quietly, her eyes changing. For a brief moment, Felix caught something in their depths, something he had never seen there before. But then, in a flash it was gone. "I was going home, yes. I told Muriel to go ahead when the reception was over, so I could help with cleaning up. I was planning to walk home, but decided to ramble on the shore first."
Felix's face brightened up as he carefully helped Izzy into the carriage, and then bounced back up into his seat. In a few moments, the carriage was once again wending its way down the shore road towards Avonlea. Felix, glanced over at Izzy, noticing that she had changed out of her wedding finery. His breath caught slightly as he recalled watching her come down the aisle as Felicity's bridesmaid. He cleared his throat, and Izzy looked over at him.
"You looked awfully nice today, Izzy," Felix said. "Bet you never thought about wearing such a dress when you were younger. Remember what a tomboy you were! I thought you looked," his voice dropped slightly, "beautiful."
Izzy looked at him, her eyes almost piercing in their intensity. Once again, Felix saw a cloud pass in their depths, and this time, it stayed. "And I never thought I would see you in a naval uniform," she replied evenly, "especially without giving me some warning first." She turned her head towards the sea. Felix reached out to take her hand, but again, she pulled it away. Felix sighed.
"Gus was the only one I told," he replied. "I didn't want to tell anyone else, for fear of someone trying to talk me out of it."
Izzy whirled around, anger and hurt clearly etched on her face. Perversely, the thought flashed through Felix's head that Izzy always looked most beautiful when she was angry, which of course, was usually an emotion directed at him. "Felix King, how could you have thought that I would try and talk you out of joining the navy?" she seethed. Felix recoiled at her biting words. "Wasn't I the one who wanted to join the British Army, lead charges, be a heroine!? And now you're the one who's going to be doing it, and I'm the one who's staying in Avonlea to work in Lawson's General Store." She turned her head away again, her hands twisting her hat, which now lay in her lap.
Felix was stunned. He carefully brought the carriage to a stop. The afternoon had become twilight, and in this bewitching hour, the world had become very quiet. To the left, the woods were dark and mysterious, and to the right, the sun was dropping lower and lower over the sea, now red and gold. As the wheels ground to a halt. Felix dropped the reins into his lap, and reached firmly out for Izzy's arm, turning her towards him. Her brown eyes brimmed with tears, and he could see that she was valiantly biting the inside of her lip, to prevent herself from crying outright.
"Izzy," he asked softly, "are you jealous, jealous of me?" No one has ever been jealous of me, a voice said inside his head.
She was mute, not trusting herself to speak. She looked him directly in the eye, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. Felix leaned closer to her. "Or are you afraid that I might never return to Avonlea, that I might forget you?" he queried, his voice getting low.
At this, a single tear escaped, and traced itself down her cheek. But still no answer. Felix reached out and carefully brushed the tear from her face. And tossing convention to the wind and with utter disregard for the hat that lay in her lap, he carefully gathered her stiff form into his arms and laid her glossy head on his shoulder. And finally, Izzy cried.
* * * * *
Neither Gus nor Felicity heard the footsteps coming down inside the lighthouse, and remained unaware until the door of the lighthouse wrenched open, nearly hitting them both. A solitary figure awkwardly shuffled and cleared his throat. Felicity jumped as if struck, and Gus whirled around in surprise. Both gasped and then smiled sheepishly. Felicity looked down at the ground, her cheeks coloring prettily.
"Ned, didn't think you'd be about," Gus said, clearing his throat. Ned Potts, the current lighthouse keeper and a distant cousin of the infamous Sally, looked shyly at his feet. A young lad, perhaps twenty, he had been caring for the light since the previous keeper had moved on in the spring.
"Well, Mr. Pike, I thought I would drop around real quick like to check on things, and set the light for you," he replied, adding quickly, "unless of course, you'd like to do it yourself."
Felicity looked up at Gus. He hesitated. It was getting on two years since he had cared for the Avonlea light, and his eyesight was especially poor in the evenings. "We can do it," she replied firmly. Gus had to get used to the idea that they were a team, and no time like the present to start. Ned smiled and nodded, and reached for his jacket, hanging beside the door. He stepped out of the lighthouse, turning to the couple.
"Congratulations on your day," he said, carefully shaking both their hands. "May you both be very happy." And with his quaint well wishes said, Ned headed off towards the shore road, his whistle growing fainter in the evening air.
Felicity turned back to Gus. Their eyes met, and twinkled at each other. "I do declare, Mrs. Pike," Gus commented. "We are finally alone." Felicity looked around. Indeed they were.
"Are you going to throw me out?" Felicity asked, hearkening back to the evening when she had run away from home to the lighthouse, and Gus had kissed her, really kissed her, for the first time. Gus stared at her, bewildered, and then catching the same memory, burst out laughing. With that, he pulled open the lighthouse door, carefully placing her suitcase inside. Then holding the door with one leg, Gus swept his wife into his arms. Felicity, not expecting this, squealed delightedly. "Gus Pike, what are you doing?" she laughed, knowing full well what he was doing, and loving every minute of it.
"Why, carryin' you over the threshold, Mrs. Pike," Gus replied. "Bad luck to have a bride trip on the way into her new home." He swung her into the lighthouse and carefully placed her on the floor, the door closing behind them. He looked around the dimly lit room. "Some home...it's a good thing I remember this place like the back of my hand," he commented dryly, "or I'd be lost with these eyes in this gloom." Felicity looked around them, her eyes adjusting to the dark. Seemingly time had stood still in the old lighthouse. Everything had remained the same since she had last been there, over two years before. She looked towards her husband.
"Now, let's go see about that light," Gus said, as he carefully made his way up the stairs, Felicity following. Within an hour, the light was cutting a brilliant swath across the now dimly lit sea, thanks to Gus's excellent instruction and Felicity's nimble fingers. Inside the lighthouse, Felicity had unpacked the basket that lay on the beautifully set table. The delicacies! Felix had really outdone himself...or had been particularly pleading with Chef Pierre. Gus had carefully lit the logs that lay in the hearth and now a small fire was taking the chill off the room. He sat in the old chair, his feet up, watching Felicity bustle around the table. Their conversation was punctuated with remembrances of the wedding day itself, sprinkled with the occasional "do you remember?"
"Do you remember the summer we kept trying to have a picnic, and it never seemed to work out? This will make up for that!"
"I can't believe you actually ran through the woods with yer weddin' dress on, Felicity!"
"Did you see the look on Mrs. Lynde's face when I came back dragging Hetty?"
"Sara's a right grown up young lady now, isn't she? So elegant and fine--do you remember the time she was in the rodeo?"
"Your speech was wonderful, Gus. I was so proud of you."
"Yer Aunt Hetty made a nice speech too..."
And so it went, until Felicity and Gus sat down to their wedding feast, their first meal alone together as husband and wife. As Gus lit the candles on the table, and Felicity carefully covered her silken going away dress with a napkin, she suddenly felt shy, and cast her eyes towards her plate. Gus was similarly quiet, and as he sat, he reached across the table for her hand.
Felicity looked up at him. "Gus," she began "in my family, my father always said grace before supper. But, if you want.." her voice trailed off. Gus smiled at the implication and bowed his head. Before Felicity could open her mouth, he had already begun, a short, beautiful grace, completely in Gaelic.
"Amen," he finished, looking up into her wide eyes. "Didn't think I knew a grace, did ya Felicity? Said grace every day of my life from the time I met Ezekiel Crane. He never missed grace at a meal. Full of surprises, I am," he teased.
Felicity smiled, withdrew her hand from his, and picked up her fork. "Not the least of which is coming back from the dead," she retorted decidedly. Gus chuckled in satisfaction, as they both began to eat.
Within an hour, their feast was done, and the remains carefully packed back into the basket. Gus carried the candles to the sitting area, and they sat basking in the warm glow of the fire. Felicity was curled up beside him, her golden-brown head leaning on his shoulder, enjoying the silence, the comfort, the peace. For the months she had been engaged to Stuart, she was scared to be alone, to think too hard, to even feel too much, for fear of the pain of Gus's death returning. It was so nice to simply be. She sighed contentedly.
"Felicity, one thing has changed about you," Gus began slowly, breaking the silence. "You're quieter than you used to be," he said, as she turned around to look at him. "But you know, I kinda like it." She smiled and Gus noticed again the twist in her smile, the lines around her eyes that had not been there when he had left Avonlea two years before. Once again, sadness and guilt washed over him for his deceit. While hiding himself from her had seemed a good idea after the accident, every day he was reminded of the cross he had forced her to bear and the pain she had suffered on his account. He realized anew the good that had come of that chance telephone call.
"Not so much of a contrast between us now," she replied lightly, then her tone grew more serious. "In the months after I thought you were dead, I literally barely spoke. When I finally felt I could live again, talking just didn't seem to be so important. I found it a lot easier to be quiet." She faced him. "You are a lot quieter too now, Gus, a lot more serious." His eyes dropped to their intertwined hands. Her ring, their ring, glowed in the reflected light of the fire--both of them remembered how Gus would make that same ring shine in the sunlight while he played his fiddle. That ring had bound them together, in one way or another, for all those years, though all that distance, through all the pain.
"Guess I know what life can hand ya now, having come pretty near close to dying," he replied. "But you've done more good in the last few weeks than you'll ever know, Felicity King." A grin lit up her face, and she touched her finger to his lips. "Oh, Felicity Pike, that is," he corrected himself, and the serious moment was gone.
Felicity rose from the couch and retrieved her case from the corner, where Gus had placed it when they came in. She opened it, while Gus looked curiously at her from the sofa, and lifted out a package. Holding it behind her back, she stood before him, her eyes dancing with delight and anticipation. "Too much silence can be a bad thing, don't you agree Mr. Pike?" she asked teasingly.
Gus was doing his best to peer around her to see what she was hiding, but her skirts did an admirable job of hiding the mysterious object from his prying eyes. "Well, now," he hesitated, wondering where this conversation was heading. "I guess you do be right. A bit of talking and noise can be a good thing."
"I'm glad you agree," she replied, "because then you can alleviate any extra silence in our lives, with this."
Her hands came around from her back, and in her hands she held a black case. An unmistakable shape. Gus's amazed expression went from the case to Felicity's face and back again. His hands reached out, undid the clasps, flipped back the lid. The rich red felt, the burnished wood, the shining strings...the most beautiful fiddle he had ever seen, bar one--the one that lay smashed at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean off the coast of South Carolina. His eyes filled with tears and he looked at her questioningly. "My wedding gift to you, Gus," Felicity replied simply. "Will you play for me?"
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