Isla sat on her front porch, her red hands wrapped around a mug of lemon tea. The steam floated up into the air. England's weather hadn't been warm since March, and this displeased Isla, she was far too busy to care about the weather the previous year when she had been involved in the detecting agency. But, alas, now things had changed. A snowstorm struck England two mear weeks before Christmas. It was many months from that period of time but still, England remained frigid and laden with a white sheet on its surface.
"Isla dear, do come back inside!" her mother called from the house, she was wearing an apron and covered in flour. Her mother loved to bake as did Isla, it was therapeutic as her dear mum put it. Isla shivered as she removed her many coats and undershirts until she just remained in her jeans, her favorite yellow sweater she had knitted herself, and her wool socks. Her mother smiled.
"I knew I taught you well!" Isla laughed.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Isla's mother dropped her rolling pin she had been pressing pie crust dough with.
"Oh! who could that be, out there, in this cold?" She opened the front door, taking off her apron as she did so. A man in a blue sweater was standing at her doorstep Isla gasped from her view from the window. He seemed to look like he was around her age 18. He was absolutely beautiful; Long blonde hair, short in the back, but long in the front where his bangs hung in front of his perfect featured face, his eyes were the most beautiful eyes Isla had ever seen, she could feel her cheeks growing pink just from looking at them from a distance.
They were blue, just like her eyes, but he was stormy blue, the type that is the color of the sea, where the tides never end, Isla began to think that she could stare at them forever. But, she brought herself back to reality. Her mother was still standing in the doorway, saying nothing. Then the boy stepped aside. A shorter man stepped out from behind his tall lean frame, a slightly tan man with a good head of raven black hair walked up the steps and greeted her mother.
"Good evening ma'am!" Isla's mother smiled, blushing slightly when the man touched her hand. Isla rolled her eyes.
"Well, good evening to you too! what do I owe this visit?" The man shook his head, his iron rim glasses shifting slightly on the end of his nose. He pushed them back up it with his right hand.
"Oh! nothing of the sort ma'am! My son and I are just visiting England and we happened across your Bed & Breakfast and were wondering if you still were open with an empty room perhaps?" Her mother chuckled light-heartedly.
"Oh, yes, of-of course, do come in, please don't mind the mess, we have just started baking!" The man smiled.
"No problem whatsoever ma'am, I do enjoy baking myself!" Isla crept out from behind the curtains near the window towards the elderly man.
"Ahh, good evening Miss!" Isla blushed, his words were very charming.
"Good evening sir!" The man stepped towards her smiling, offering his hand.
"Please call me Morris!" Isla smiled back.
"Good evening Mr. Morris!" Mr. Morris returned her smile by saying,
"Now isn't that much simpler off the tongue?" Isla laughed as did her mother. Mr. Morris shouted.
"Oh! I almost forgot this is my son Thyme! THYME COME IN HERE PLEASE!" The boy who had been looking through the Bed & Breakfast's window hoping to see the beautiful girl he had just glimpsed at looked up and climbed the porch's stairs and into the open door, closing it behind him. Isla tried to hide her obvious blushing when she saw that the end of his nose had turned red from the cold.
Mr. Morris smiled cheerfully, Thyme did not. Instead, he simply gazed around the room; as if he was searching for something. Mr. Morris spoke again.
"This is my son Thyme! Thyme this is- pardon me what were your names?" Isla's mother spoke first.
"Mary!" Mr. Morris grinned.
He turned to Isla who looked back at him, meeting his gaze.
"Isla!" Mr. Morris sighed.
"Excellent, excellent. Tyme this is Isla and her mother Mary!" Thyme looked towards Isla, his expression had suddenly grown warmer, he did not smile but he extended his hand towards the girl.
"It 'tis an honor to make your acquaintance Isla!" Isla drew in a soft breath. The way he said her name was breathtaking. She joined his hand and their fingers touched, shaking hands. Mr. Morris shook his head, patting Thyme on the back.
"No, no, no son, that is no way to treat a lady! You must be elegant!" he gently grabbed Isla's mother Mary's hand and pressed his lips to her skin. She blushed and this time her cheeks turned quite red.
"Oh! How flattering of you good sir!" Thyme turned back to Isla, who he now noticed was a bit flustered. He carefully squeezed her delicate hand in his from their handshake before and raised it to his lips, pressing them against her skin, he said,
"Forgive me Isla!" Isla shook her head.
" Thank you Thyme, you are very sweet'
Then she turned to Mr. Morris who was still holding hands with Mary.
"I think they shall need some food, don't you mum?" Mary gasped but then broke away from Mr. Morris's touch straightening her posture.
"What dear? food? Oh! Yes, do make yourselves at home gentlemen!" Mr. Morris grinned, shrugging off his coat he hung it up on the coat rack facing the door.
"Splendid!" Thyme did also, he let go of Isla's hand and removed his own coat, revealing a knitted seater much like of her own underneath, yet, it wasn't yellow it was white and bulky. He hung it up onto the coat rack next to his father's. Whilst Mary and Mr. Morris were in the kitchen, Mary pulling out two extra pots and pans and plates, Mr. Morrison bustling along to help her do so, Thyme remained by the window, looking out at the ground blanketed with snow. His brow furrowed as if he was confused at the imagery around him. Isla found this quite peculiar, but then again, Mr. Morris did say that they were visiting England on the contrary. Isla walked a bit closer to Thyme, who didn't peel his gaze away from the window until Isla cleared her throat, then he looked up. His brow still furrowed.
"Please, Thyme take a seat!" Thyme shook his head.
"No, thank you, I'll stand. I do not mind the pleasure of it!" Isla had to hold in a giggle, pleasure of standing? She had never heard anything like that sentence before. Isla nodded, and she turned to join her mother and Mr.Morris in the kitchen when she said.
"Will you at least join us in the kitchen, mum has supper ready!" Thyme nodded.
Isla smiled, turning, walking back into the kitchen where Mr. Morris was examining Mary's ring on her finger from Isla's late father. She caught the last of their conversation.
"Yes, John gave it to me!" Mr. Morris smiled.
"A fine man wasn't he?" Mary nodded, Isla could tell that she was holding back some tears when she replied.
"Yes, the greatest, finest man I had known!" Mr. Morris took her hand in his and said.
"I"m positive that he is still here with you dear, somewhere!" Mary nodded, her chin shaking a bit, then she saw Isla standing in the doorway.
She collected herself, wiping her eyes with her hand she said.
"Oh! hello dear, will you and Thyme wash up? Supper's ready!"
"Yes, mum!" Isla said. She turned on the hot water tap and washed her hands with a bar of homemade soap in the sink. Isla looked up to see where Thyme had gone. He was yet again standing by the window of their kitchen, gazing out. When she dried her hands on a tea towel.
Thyme stopped and washed his hands in the sink. Isla peered from the side of her eyes, admiring how strong but delicate his fingers were, how long they were. He was a truly beautiful man. Mary sighed, she and Mr. Morris were already sitting at the dining table waiting with their plates.
"Come now, Isla, quick, quick!" Isla smiled, she scooped her peas and boiled potatoes, and roast beef. She set her plate down in an empty chair, joining the two. Thyme did also sitting across from her as did Mr. Morris across from her mother, Mary.
They all ate together, Mr. Morris cracked jokes, and there was a round of hearty laughter filling the small Bed & Breakfast joining the warm, delicious food filling their stomachs. Oddly enough Thyme didn't join in on the jokes and the laughter, he simply sat rigid in his chair and ate, focusing on his meal. At first, Isla was taken aback, rather insulted really that they were offering him shelter, warmth, and food and yet he had nothing to say, he couldn't even join in on the fun. Mr. Morris seemed to notice this, he spoke.
"Come now, Thyme does say something! Thank Ms. Mary and Miss Isla for their welcoming of us into their home and their hospitality!" Thyme looked up, his eyes were unfocused and he looked as if he had been thinking deeply.
"Forgive me, father, I was occupied thinking!" Mr. Morris chuckled.
"About your many theories, I hope so boy!" Thyme looked as if he had almost smiled because the corner of his mouth slightly raised a hair. Isla blushed as he met her eyes and then looked back down at his plate.
As the night drowned on and on, and as they finished their meals, Mr. Morris stood, grabbing his coat.
"Ahh, thank you kindly, Madame! But, we must be off!" Mary rose suddenly, causing Isla to jump.
"What about your room Mr. Morris?" Mr.Morris shook his head.
"Oh, has to be another time, but, we must get going, come along Thyme!" Thyme stood, grabbing his coat and putting it back on, he smiled towards Isla who also stood.
"Thank you, Isla!" Isla smiled and nodded.
"Of course! Have a safe trip!" Mr. Morris smiled thanking Mary.
"Oh! we will Miss, we will! See you on the 'morrow's end!" The door closed behind the two as they left Mary and Isla still standing on the other side of the dining table awe-struck at the two beautiful, kindest people they had met in a long, long time. Mary shook her head clearing the blue Spode plates still lying on the table.
"How very odd dear, you never meet people like them in this part of England!" Isla ran to the window, peering out to see if she could possibly catch one last glimpse at the men in the dimming evening light. Her stomach clenched, there was no one in sight and that should be impossible, for their Bed & Breakfast had quite a long drive, they couldn't possibly have made it to the end so soon. Isla drew back pondering this deeply.
Had they even been real? She wasn't quite sure. But, she knew for one thing that she would miss Thyme's beautiful smile.