His | Mine | Ours

Chapter 2 - Forks

I was woken up by the bustling crowd around me. Wiping my eyes, I grabbed my large spectacles and put them on to see better. Those beside me were getting up and grabbing their things before making their way to the front of the plane.

Seeing this, I unbuckled my seatbelt and stretched my arms before doing the same. After getting off the plane, I make my way through the terminal and out of the arrival zone, toward the Pick-Up & Drop-Off area near Baggage Claim. I was about to call for a taxi when I caught a glimpse of a white board with my name on it.

Turning in that direction, I see a man waving at me as he puts the board back in his blue truck. He smiles as I walk toward him with a bit of uncertainty in my eyes.

"Iris Collins?" he says.

I nod.

"My name's Waylon." he replied with a small grin. "I'm a friend of your grandmother's."

I nod again before looking around. "Where is she?" I asked.

"She's home." he replied as he offered to take my bag. "Doctor ordered her on bed-rest."

My eyebrows furrowed. Was my grandmother sick or something? I adjusted the glasses on my face and watch Waylon throw my bag into the back of his truck carelessly, making me frown. I silently walked to the other side of the truck and got in. Tugging the sides of my beanie to cover my ears, I look out the window while Waylon gets into the car. After cranking up his engine, Waylon pulls off from the parking curb and navigates the truck out of the airport lot.

He stole a few curious glances from as we drove down the road. I lazily rest my head in my hand, watching the trees and fields go by, evidence that Forks was nothing more than a backwater town. We past the town sign and made a few turns before heading down a straight road.

"So, Iris-" Waylon started.

"You can call me Liz." I replied offhandedly.

"Is that short of Lisa?" he questioned.

"Elizabeth." I replied. "It's my middle name."

Waylon nodded. "Well, Liz. Your grandmother tells me that this will be her first time seeing you." he said with a small smile. "She seemed excited."

"Really?" I said, turning toward him.

He nodded with a grin. "Damn near talked my ears off about it." he said.

The side of my mouth quirked up. "I'm excited to see her as well." I replied.

"So where you from kid?" he asked me.

"New York." I answered.

Waylon whistled. "That's a great way." he said before he glanced at me with a side grin. "Big city girl. Must have needed a break from all the hustle and bustle of the city life, huh."

I laughed dryly at this. "Something like that." I said.

"Well, while you're here, if you ever need anything, you can always look for me." he said. "Forks might not be much compared to New York, but it's home. And us folk around here look out for each other."

"Duly noted." I said with a kind small smile.

We continued to make small talk until we arrived at a small, blue house near the outskirts of town. It looked rather old and moss covered the stony pathway. In front of the house was a make-shift pergola and a large tree along with some wild shrubs was beside it. In front of the brown fence that gated the back yard, was an old Blue Beetle Volkswagen. I looked at the place with interest as Waylon parked on the side of the road.

We both got out the car and Waylon grabbed my duffle bag, slinging it over his shoulder as we walked up to the front door. I knocked on the door only to receive no answer. After a minute of knocking, Waylon sighed and dug into his pocket before pulling out a key. He unlocked the door and walked into the house with my trailing behind him.

"Ms. Nancy, we're home!" he yelled.

"I'm out back!" A light yet raspy voice answered.

Waylon mumbled something under his breath as he sat my bag on the table and marched toward the backyard. I simply stood in the dining room, staring at Waylon's back as he disappeared around the corner. With a deep exhale, I looked around the place. It was very old fashioned and had a cottage style appearance. The kitchen was small and built into the dining room. Through the dining area, you get to the living room were there is a hallway to the left. I assume that that is were the rooms are.

I grabbed my bag and walked into the living room. Just as I got there, I heard commotion outside and a minute later, Waylon came into the house with an older woman walking behind him. When they entered the living room, the older woman paused at the sight of me. Clenching the handles of my duffle, I stare back at her, taking her features in as she took in mine.

We stared at each other for a minute and the room reminded silent. Waylon looked kind of awkward but kept quiet nonetheless. He slipped into the kitchen, not wanting to intrude on a family moment. Minutes after he left, the older woman took slow, hesitant steps toward me with a look of disbelief.

"I-Iris?" she stammered with watery eyes as she brought a hand to my face.

I unknowingly sighed as her hand touched my skin. It was cold, but I could feel nothing but warmth coming from her. Watching my grandmother tear up, I couldn't help but produce some of my own.

"Grandmother?" I said nervously.

Hearing my response, tears began to flow freely from her eyes and she pulled me into a tight hug.

"Iris." she cried.

A few tears rolled down my cheeks and I dropped my bag to hug her. She was such a small and frail woman. I was afraid I would hurt her if I held on too tightly.

Unknown to me, Waylon was standing in the kitchen with a wide grin on his face. He was happy for us. He grabbed a notepad from the kitchen drawer and wrote a few things on it before leaving the house. He needed to get back to the station. Charlie had the day off so he would have to cover his shift.