The Visitor

She waiting patiently by the coffee shop located nearest to Gate C. It had been a long time since she had needed to pick anyone up from the airport in Savannah and she had forgotten what a nuisance it was to not be able to sit directly inside the gate for unloading passengers. She fiddled a bit with the scarf around her neck to adjust it straight. It was red with small flowers scattered throughout it. She loved it and thought fondly of last summer when Iris had sent it to her for her 62nd birthday. It matched her black suit beautifully and she was looking forward to showing it off to her "Irie".

She had some anxiety about the arrival of her long-time friend. Just three months ago, Iris had lost her husband, Thomas, to a heart attack. She knew that Iris would still be in the throws of grief and with only the few days that she spent with her during the funeral, she had failed to really stay on top of how she was doing. Iris always experienced loss with a respectful quietness. She was one to put on a brave face and a stoic disposition which left you guessing what she needed, wondering how you could help.

It took alot of convincing to get Iris to come to Sweet Hill for the summer. She was reluctant to leave her three children who were far from adjusting to the loss of their father, but when Isaac offered to take over the business in the back shop and with Ella moving into the house, she was persuaded to "get away" for a few months.

"It's just what Irie needs", she thought. "I have her room all ready with a new quilt on the bed and a fresh bunch of flowers on the side table." She even went to a local photography company and had some old photos of the two of them re-framed for the wall. Her room would be on the second floor and would light up each new morning with it's pale buttercream walls. She could walk out onto the upper balcony and look at the ocean and sip her coffee in blissful peace. "Yes, that's exactly what she needs."

She knew in her heart, it was what she needed also. Lillian had had a hard few months of her own this past year. With the loss of her mother right before last Christmas and Philip leaving her two years ago, she had found herself very much lost in this world so easily and comfortably created for her. She was aware that she had slowly begun to cut herself off from their former friends. It was hard to be around company that she knew still entertained themselves with him. She longed for them to show loyalty to her, to despise him and what he had done to her, but she found no consolation in their visits and parties. She discovered several months into their marriage that she was unable to conceive a child so the comfort of family was not something she had access to. She had gotten increasingly lonely and introverted.

This wasn't like her. She had lived her life in high society. There was always a function to attend or a benefit to help plan. She had the finest of everything. They lived in a large home right off the coast in Sweet Hill, Georgia. Philip had made his living as an investment banker which he was very successful at. She knew the moment that she laid eyes on him in college that he would be brilliant at whatever he did. A strikingly tall man with black hair and deep set features, she was entranced by him from their first date. Forty years later she could easily find herself enamored with his stately manner and sharp charm. He had provided a respectable life for her and beyond that left the mystery. How could he leave her after 35 years of marriage? Had she meant nothing to him? Had he always been looking for a reason...a time?

She shivered a bit from the breeze of the passengers now rushing past her to get to their loved ones or the next destination. She was glad for the chill because it brought her back to the search of the face of her arriving visitor, and then through the crowd she caught a glimpse. Iris was finding her way down the hallway, a carry-on hanging off the shoulder, hair tucked up in a barrette and a kleenex in her fingers that still she fiddled with while she walked.

What was it about the vision of this woman and her nearing presence that brought tears to Lilly's eyes? Was it the fondest that comes with years of learning and enjoying someone? Was it the assurance of comfortableness, of knowing she would be understood? Being with Iris was like coming home again. It was like having a hole deep inside herself being filled up. Whatever it was, it was enough to distract her from the feeble, visibly older figure coming towards her and causing her to run forward, arms open with a ready embrace.

"Irie...you made it.", Lillian said.

"Yes, Lil', yes I did."