IRIS
I remember sitting in the old wooden chair in his room, listening to the winter wind whistling through the mountains outside the slightly opened window.
My long blond hair was dirty and tangled; I had it pulled over my shoulder so I could run my fingers through the soft ends, a nervous habit that brought me some mild comfort.
I’d been wearing the same long-sleeved shirt and jeans for three days, and I’m sure I smelled terrible.
But when Sol stepped into the room, he didn’t look at me with the pity or disgust I expected. That I thought I deserved. Instead, he gave me a friendly smile with those shining white teeth before taking a seat on the bed, facing me.
“I’m good.”
I lowered my head and curled in on myself, pulling my feet up on the chair to wrap my arms around my knees. I didn’t answer. He didn’t need me to.
“That’s what I thought.” He leaned forward, forearms resting on his knees, his gaze never leaving me. “But you’re here now. Things can only get better, right?”
“I hope so.”
“I know so,” he said. He reached up to push his own shoulder-length hair out of his face with a huff of amusement. “I’m guessing Lily gave you the rundown of this place and what we stand for here?”
“A little. She said you take in people with nowhere to go—help them get a fresh start.”
“That’s right. That’s why I give everyone a new name, too.
Everything that happened before today is in the past. You get to start over, Iris.
The ability to make yourself better—to be happier and stronger—is in your hands now.
” He frowned. “Ugh. I’m sorry. I sound like a salesman giving you my best pitch. ”
“No. It … sounds nice, actually,” I said. Because for the six months leading up to that night, I’d watched my world fall apart. And what hadn’t fallen, I’d torn down. Starting over—and maybe even finding happiness—seemed like a dream.
“Good. And just know that I’m here to help you. Along with Lily and Violet.”
“Thank you.” I didn’t know what else to say. Those were the only two words that felt right, and even they felt insufficient in the wake of this kindness. Of this hope he was offering to me on an outstretched hand.
“Don’t thank me,” he said, a small laugh chiming like a bell within his words. “Thank yourself. You’re the one making the choice to be here. You’re the one putting in the work. I’m just here to guide you. To give you a safe, supportive place to grow.”
I started smoothing my fingers over the ends of my hair. “Do you charge rent or … ?”
“Oh, no. Absolutely not,” he said, waving a large, callused hand in dismissal.
“You can stay here for free. All I ask is that you pull your weight to keep the place clean, help with the cooking and the gardening once spring comes, that sort of thing. We all split the tasks up pretty evenly. It can be a lot of work—I won’t lie about that—but it’s satisfying work.
And there are benefits to keeping busy.”
“I don’t really know how to garden … and I can only cook some basics,” I admitted.
An instant surge of worry spiked in me, threatening to deflate that small swell of hope that had been expanding in my chest since I’d met Lily that afternoon.
Maybe this meant I wasn’t good enough to stay here, either.
“That’s fine. We’ll teach you.” Sol’s smile was reassuring as he added, “Everyone’s got to start somewhere, right?”
The tension in my shoulders eased at that, and my hands fell away from my hair. “I’m definitely willing to learn.” I tried to offer him a smile back. “And I’m told I can make a mean omelet.”
When he laughed, it came from low in his belly, a deep, rich sound, like the chords of a bass guitar. “I look forward to trying one,” he said.
“I, um …” I hesitated. “I have another question, but I’m not sure if it might be rude.”
“Let me guess—you want to know why I do this if I’m not making money from it?”
“Kind of, yeah.”
Sol sighed. “That’s not a rude question.
It’s just sad that that’s what our society has come to—that money is such a motivation that we assume even kindness must have a cost.” He shook his head, that warm smile fading into a more solemn expression.
“And I used to be a part of that—this money-driven, capitalist system. When I was younger, I worked in finance. In New York City, on Wall Street, if you can believe it.”
Truthfully, it was hard to picture Sol, with his long hair and scruffy beard, in a business suit. He looked far more at home in the flannel and jeans he was wearing.
He must have guessed what I was thinking, because he grinned as he explained, “I was a bit more”—he did air quotes—“‘cleaned up’ back then. Short hair and no beard. I spent so much of my time making sure I had the right suit and perfect shoes and all that nonsense. That’s the thing.
One day I woke up and realized … it was all nonsense.
All I was doing with my life was helping the rich get richer.
So I quit. I came down here to Kentucky, found this little place, and spent a lot of time soul searching.
And, as cliché as it may sound, I found enlightenment.
I found a path that helped me see through the absurdity of the world and focus on making myself a better person. ”
His words made sense to me, as someone who’d never been wealthy.
I’d seen how much work it took for an average person to make ends meet, let alone enjoy life.
Meanwhile, some privileged people could live lavish lives, fly on private jets, have a dozen fancy cars, without having to lift a manicured finger.
“And then I met Violet,” Sol continued, expression growing fond as he spoke of her.
“She was in a bad place, so I offered to help her, to teach her everything I’d learned since starting my own life over.
I got to watch her blossom. Nothing has ever been so rewarding.
So now I accept anyone who needs a home and is willing to work to improve themselves and break out of the trap our society lays for us all.
I treat this place like a garden now.” He sat back, his eyes still on me as he asked, “Iris, do you know what Sol means?”
“It’s sun, right?”
“Exactly. Think of it like this: You all are the flowers, and I’m the sun. I give you the light you need to bloom. That’s why we call these meetings Growth Sessions. Not to sound like too much of a science nerd, but it’s like photosynthesis.”
I nodded, slowly unfolding myself, my feet resting on the floor. “So how does this work? This photosynthesis?”
Sol chuckled. “Mostly, during these Growth Sessions, we talk,” he explained.
“I’ll ask you questions. Make you think.
I’ll be honest, Iris, it won’t always be easy.
I’m going to challenge you. Make you reconsider things you’ve always believed about the world, about yourself.
And I know it will take some time since we just met, but I’ll need you to trust me. ”
“So it’s kind of like therapy?” I asked.
“Hm. I guess you could think of it like that,” Sol said, rubbing his beard. “And, listen, if you have any doubts about me, I get it. I’m a strange man in the woods. But you can talk to the other girls. They can vouch for me, and they’re here to support you, too.”
I glanced toward the door, thinking of Lily, the beautiful girl with the sweet smile and warm brown eyes. Remembering her kind, reassuring words, the confident way she carried herself, and the certainty when she’d taken my hand and said she knew a place where I’d not only be safe but welcome.
I thought of the way she looked at Sol when she’d introduced us that afternoon. She’d smiled at him with such admiration, trust, and love. I hadn’t looked at anyone like that in half a year. Since before my life was turned upside down.
But Sol was offering to put it right side up again.
“And I know what you’re thinking,” Sol continued, voice a bit softer now. “If you’re anything like the other girls, you’re thinking you don’t deserve this kind of help.”
He was right. I was thinking that.
“Lily and Violet said that to me during their first Growth Sessions. And I’ll tell you what I told them.
I’m not interested in judging your past. Maybe you did some awful things.
Maybe you let down a lot of people. We’ll talk about it.
We’ll get past it. I care about your future.
Who you decide to be from this day forward.
Who you’ll—if you don’t mind humoring me a little more—blossom into. ”
My instincts told me to be skeptical. It was hard to believe a stranger would show such kindness to a teenage runaway with dirty hair and three-day-old clothes.
But Lily had said Sol was special. And I could see what she meant.
His eyes never left my face. His words were those of someone worldly, poised, and confident, but his smile was all warmth and reassurance.
I wanted to believe.
I wanted to be home.
Slowly, I nodded at Sol. “Okay. I’ll do my best.”
“That’s all I ask,” he said, reaching across the space between us to give my shoulder a squeeze. “You’re going to do great, Iris.”
We’ve met every week since then, sitting alone in his room. He has taught me so much already. He has teased out my insecurities, my fears, my regrets, and helped me to face them so that I can let them go.
Gradually, I’ve grown to look at Sol the way Lily does. With that same love and admiration. He has saved me. Saved all the girls here. He has given us shelter and faith when no one else would.
So I’m Iris now.
It’s been nearly a year since that day, and next week, Sol will give me my final tests. That’s when I’ll get to bloom.