Visiting

She slid into the kitchen with an easy grace; appearing much smaller than the last time he’d seen her. Whether this was due to age or the diagnosis, he couldn’t tell. She looked fragile, but when he hugged her, her old strength was there.

He felt out of place. It had been three years since he’d seen her last, and it seemed foolish to have come for a visit just now, eight months after the diagnosis; still, better late than never.

It felt strange to see her at home in the summer. He was so used to visiting on the front porch of the cottage as the wind carried the salt air to them and they caught up over glasses of wine. But then, it was strange to be home at all, as his business interests had taken him occupied most of the year on the west coast, leaving little time for any sort of travel.

She led him into the living room, warm and welcoming as ever, and sat next to him on the couch. With a gentle smile she proceeded to ask him everything. To his surprise, he told her.

He hadn’t thought he would ever reveal the unhappiness he felt, but sitting on the couch, he felt safe. He told of the difficulties in his relationships and the hardships he had faced in his business. He explained why he left and what his new plan was.

She sat and listened the entire time, the smile never leaving her face, except when she spoke to offer words of encouragement or understanding. In her quiet way, she demanded honesty, and he found he no longer knew how to lie.

He was devastated to leave and find he had not asked a single question about her. He would come back.