Well and Firmly Planted

Alistair stood there, holding the broken iris stem, then said, "Come. Let's go find a glass for this before it wilts."

"In the mill?"

"Yes, in the mill. It'll just take a second."  He paused. "If that's all right? Have you ever been inside the mill...when
you were a child, I mean?"

"It was always locked back then, but I...I used to peer in its windows and...."

"And?"

"Imagine stories. It seemed a perfect place to set a fairy tale."  The corners of her mouth quirked up in a bit of a smile.

"I agree," he added, his own smiled widening. "I think that's why I chose the place. Happily ever after and all that."

"Is...is Mrs. Harris inside?"

His smile faded but his eyes were still kind. "There is no Mrs. Harris, not for the last three years."

She couldn't imagine anyone divorcing a man like Alistair. His wife must have died. That had to be it. "I'm sorry," she murmured. Then trying to change the subject, she asked, "That's an English accent, isn't it? Did you come here all the way from the UK?"

His smile returned. "Two and a half years ago...from Tunbridge Wells. I've lived near Coffs Harbor until just this week." He started toward the mill, pausing just enough to encourage her to follow. "Are you a native of the area?"

"All my life," she explained, "except for when I went off to college, of course, and a little bit after that."

"And what did you study, Ahnna, in college, if I might ask?"

"Literature. I've always been...," her sentence was cut off because they'd entered the mill and she saw the mounds of books stacked everywhere. Her lips parted at the sight, then she continued, "...very fond of books."

He laughed. "Then you're in the right place! There'll be a small library opening soon in that vacant building near the church and most of these will be going over there. After that I might even be able to walk from the living room into the kitchen and not trip on them."  He led her on into the kitchen where he opened a cupboard, closed it, opened another and closed that. "Now let me see. I know I have glasses somewhere."

Ahnna looked around the quaint old kitchen. It didn't seem to be very well-stocked at all and most of the appliances looked a bit iffy as to their reliability.

"Ah! I'll just use this one!" he said, retrieving a tall glass from the sink and washing it out. When it was full of water, he made a neat slice with a knife through the broken stem and put the iris into it. The glass was too wide for a single stem and the iris tilted way to one side. He straightened it, but it tipped right back over. "Oh, well," he said, and set it in the middle of the kitchen table. "It looks nice there, don't you think?"

It did bring a nice spot of blue into the otherwise rather brown space. Still, she wished she hadn't broken his plant. "Yes," she nodded. "It's very pretty."
She reached out and touched one of its falls very lightly. "I should be getting back to the Greenery. Joimus is there all alone."

He walked with her back to the truck. "Thank you, Ahnna, for driving my iris and me home. We appreciate it, all of us, and when you come back, those of us who are blue, will be well and firmly planted by the pond."

She drove slowly on her way back to the greenhouse. 'When you come back.' He'd said that, but she wondered when that might be and found herself hoping it was soon. She wanted to see his iris, wanted to see them as he'd also said, 'well and firmly planted.' Even if he were entirely new, she'd never encountered any man who was so well and firmly planted in himself. She felt entirely rootless, had for a good while now, and the phrase kept repeating
over and over in her head as she drove until she finally said it aloud. "Well and firmly planted."  What a splendid concept. If only....