Harriet Fletcher took one last look in the mirror to check her make-up. Her recent collagen treatment had helped mask some of the wrinkles but whatever she did, she just couldn't mask the crow's feet at the corners of her eyes. Yes, even though she had taken excellent care of her skin than any of her friends and looked much younger than her age, those tiny wrinkles at her eyes annoyed her.
It's not that she was vain, and she didn't normally worry so much about her make-up, but she was expecting a visitor that morning. Now it wasn't anything too important, she had only mentioned it casually to her husband that she was expecting someone to come by and interview her. A friend of a friend of a friend knew this college student who was doing some census related research and Harriet had agreed to talk with him.
She ran her brush through her hair, then turned to walk out through her bedroom. Her husband was sitting in the living room reading the paper. Fortunately he had not disturbed any of her meticulous straightening and cleaning from the day before and actually was wearing something more than his usual underwear and tee shirt.
After a quick glance out the front window she walked into the kitchen and confirmed the coffee was ready. Checking the table in the kitchen, she made sure there was a variety of sweeteners and creamer available for coffee. She took a moment to arrange the two chairs at the small table, making sure they were both the same distance from the table.
When she heard a car door close outside she walked back out into the living room and said to her husband, "George, that college student I told you about is here. I thought I'd just invite him into the kitchen for coffee while he interviews me."
"Okay dear, I'll be right here," he replied, folding one section of the paper and placing it neatly on the floor before grabbing another.
Harriet stood by the door waiting for the bell to ring, "I heard the car door, he'll be at the door in a moment."
Her husband just nodded.
After a few more moments she walked over to the window and glanced out noticing a taxi heading down the street. Wondering what happened to her visitor she stepped over to the door and opened it just as the bell rang.
"Oh my, you startled me," Harriet said stepping back.
"I'm sorry, I'm Martin from the college, and I have an appointment with Mrs. Fletcher. I'm at the right house aren't I?"
"Oh yes, yes, I'm Mrs. Fletcher, Harriet, please call me Harriet," she replied, surprised that Martin was older than she expected. She had expected a young student but this man had to be in his mid-thirties at least. "I heard the car door but then it took some time before you got to the door..."
"Yes, I had to pay the cab driver," he said seemingly staring just over her head.
Holding the door, she stepped back and said, "Please come inside."
The man then moved his hand forward, tapping the door frame and then the floor with his white cane before cautiously stepping inside.
"Oh, you're blind," Harriet said, reaching out as if to catch the man.
"Yes, I hope it isn't a problem for you."
"Oh no, it's okay. I thought we would just sit down in the kitchen, it's over this way," she said, nodding toward the door. "Can I help you?"
"If I can rest my hand on your arm you can guide me," he replied.
Holding her arm out, she slowly walked him to the kitchen, where she opened the door and then pulled out the chair for him. She waited while he pulled off his backpack and then guided his hand to the chair. As he sat down she asked, "Would you like some coffee, I have a fresh pot."
"Oh no thank you."
