A Standard of  Blue

"You were looking for bearded iris?"  Finally she spoke, asking the question as though she had merely turned and found him there.

"Yes," he said, his voice catching slightly as he attempted to shift back into his reason for being there. "Blue, if you have them."

"Blue," she repeated, leading him to another section of the greenhouse. "You have other iris?"

"Purple and some yellow ones. They were already there by the millpond."

"The millpond?" She stopped and turned to look at him. "You've moved into the old mill?"

"Just yesterday." He smiled. "And I find myself in need of blue iris."

"Y...yesterday? Then you're...you're...."

"Alistair," he replied. "Alistair Harris."

"The pastor? You're the pastor?"

He dipped his head slightly. "At your service."

"I didn't expect...."

"Me? You didn't expect me?"

"No, I...I only meant I thought...."

"And I did not expect you, either."

"Iris," she said firmly. "Let me show you the iris."  A couple of rows over she paused. "Do you want container-grown ones or bare root rhizomes, Reverend Harris?"

"For now, container-grown would be splendid. I'd like the color on the spot. I'll probably plant some rhizomes later, though." He bent to examine a large pot of tall iris. "Alistair," he said, not taking his eyes from the flower.

"W...what?"

"Alistair," he repeated. "My name."  He ran a fingertip lightly down the standard of a dark blue iris. "Do you have any in a lighter blue?"

"O...over here," she said, pulling a pot out from behind some deep purple iris. "Are these what you're looking for?"

Little crinkles formed at the corners of his eyes when he smiled. "Perfect. Blue like the sky in mid-summer." The beards on the falls were
white and there was almost no hint of purple anywhere. "Have you more? I'll take all you have." 

She found six pots of the blue iris. "All these? You're sure?"

"I'm sure."

Just then Joimus came in the door of the greenhouse. "Ahnna?" she called.

"Over here," the young woman responded. "The new pastor is buying iris for the mill."

Joimus came around a corner and down to where they were standing, a big smile of greeting on her face. "Hello," she welcomed, "I'm Joimus Meridius. Welcome to the Glen and to my greenhouse specifically."  She looked at the cluster of pots Ahnna had gathered. "Ah, blue, I see. My favorite, too."

Each of them carried two pots up to the front counter where Alistair paid for them. "Looks like you'll need help getting them out to your car," Joimus commented.

"I walked," Alistair replied. "I completely forgot I walked."

"Well, there's no way you're getting those 6 big pots back to the mill in your arms," Joimus grinned. "I'd take you in my little truck, but I'm expecting my first delivery of cut flowers any time now and I need to be here for that. Looks like you'll have to drive the truck, Ahnna, if that's ok?"

"Oh, I don't want to be that much of a....," Alistair started to protest, but Joimus shushed him and so each of them carried two pots again out to the truck that was parked just to one side of the greenhouse.

"You know where the mill is, Ahnna?" Joimus asked when the young woman got into the driver's seat.

"I used to play there as a little girl," Ahnna said quietly.

"Good then! I'll see you when I see you. Ah, here comes the delivery truck now."  She smiled at Alistair. "There's no florist in the Glen so I decided the other day to add a cut flower section to the Greenery. Let me know, all right, if you need anything for the church."

As Ahnna drove, Alistair tried to keep from staring at her profile. "You've worked at the Greenery long?" he tried.

"I only just started. The Greenery is brand new." Ahnna kept her eyes on the lane.

"Was that Mrs. Meridius I saw, then, in the garden of the big house?"

"Probably. She and the General had it brought over from England when they came."

"General?"

"Yes, Joimus is married to a former General. He breeds horses now, though, and is starting a riding school."

It only took a few moments in the truck to get to the mill. "You played here? As a child, you said you played here?"

"A long time ago." She pulled up near the water wheel. "It all looks very much the same, though." He sat silently, trying to imagine what she'd have looked like as a little girl by this pond. "I'll help unload the iris," she said, opening the truck door. "Do you want them over there by the other iris?"

"Iris? Um, oh, yes, that will be good."  He got out and hurried to the back of the truck. "Here, let me..." his hand brushed along hers on the edge of one of the pots and she let it drop. The iris plant came loose from its container and spilled out onto the lawn, dirt ball fairly well intact, but the tallest of the blue iris had broken off. "Oh!" she cried, "I'm so sorry!" She popped the plant back into its container, avoiding his eyes.

Alistair picked up the stem of the broken iris. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" he said, not in the least upset.

"I've broken it," she whispered.

"And now it gets to come inside the mill and sit on my table in a glass of water. A not-unhappy fate for an iris, I think."

"I'm sorry," she repeated, lifting her eyes slowly to meet his.

"It is not a matter that requires your sorrow," he replied. "It is still beautiful and I will still enjoy that about it. There is no loss."

"No loss." Her voice was barely audible.

"No, not here, not now. There is no loss."

Looking in his green eyes, something in her almost began to believe him.