The Potter's Daughter (Literary Series)

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The Potter's Daughter (Literary Series) Page 10

by Smith, Daniel Arthur


  Caroline and Abby, as well as other watching family members and friends, enjoyed the game. After the last period was finished, the girls and twins went down to the boards to see the fellas and to compliment them on a good game. Brian and Mitch glistened with sweat and each had a hand towel to wipe their face and dripping brow. Caroline raised both hands, cheered, and clapped as she had throughout the game. Caroline was possibly their biggest fan next to Lilly, cheering the whole time as well. The boys smiled and waved as they went to the locker room to clean up and get their gear together before heading over to the Stone Tavern.

  Caroline was not surprised when Abby told her that she wanted to stay in the village to have a beer with the boys at the tavern. She asked Abby if she needed anything before she went then gave her cousin a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Abby reminded Caroline that there was wine in the back of the car. Caroline told her that she would take care of the wine and then opened the doors of the pavilion into the new dark night.

  While Abby waited for the boys to finish in the locker room, she sat on the bottom bleacher and leaned back against the seats behind her with both hands in her pockets. The teal Zamboni was rounding the rink and Journey played on the sound system. She thought that when fifty years should pass the ice rink would still be playing Journey. She closed her eyes and thought about a boy she knew in junior high school that danced with her to a Journey song so many years ago. His name was Bobby Haremon. Bobby was skinny, shorter than her, with dark hair, and dark eyes. He was funny, and cute as a button. To dance then was to hold each other close, a loose hug really, and move slowly in a circle. Thinking back, the dance was not so spectacular, however Journey and the right boy, was the recipe to swoon in his arms. Though she wanted him to, she did not let Bobby kiss her, that was not some thing she did in junior high. There were other boys and other dances and there was always Journey, “perhaps that was the formula,” she thought.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 24

  Abby continued to daydream until she heard the players start to exit the locker room. Mitch was happy to see that Abby had stayed behind. He walked over to greet her and make sure that she was on board for a beer. Abby took the hockey stick from him and the two went out into the night, first to stow Mitch’s gear in his truck and then to meet everyone else inside the tavern.

  The amber lamps outside the pavilion held back the satin black sky just above them. The outside humidity and the temperature were still up creating the sweet odor of fresh melt in the air. The two walked around the crowded outdoor rink toward the parking lot. The same music that had been playing indoors was playing outside.

  “Did you always play hockey?” asked Abby.

  “Out of the womb, I guess,” said Mitch, “did it at the boys club. My dad was into pushing athletics. I haven’t seen you on your skates yet.”

  “You haven’t?” Abby paused, “I guess not.”

  “I hear you’re a pretty good skater.”

  “I used to be, ok,” said Abby, “why?”

  Mitch set down his gear bag next to the bleachers, reached in, and pulled out Abby’s skates.

  “Want to show me?” asked Mitch.

  “You’re on,” said Abby, she took the skates from Mitch and put them on as he put on his hockey skates.

  The two entered the rink holding hands and skated in pace with each other. Both had cheeky smiles and both firmly pressed each other’s hands.

  After circling the rink twice, Abby skated around in front of Mitch so that she was still holding his hand yet skating backwards. He took her other hand and the two locked eyes, their pace a natural rhythm.

  “So you can skate,” said Mitch.

  “I told you,” said Abby, “ a bit rusty, but I can skate. How about you.”

  “Whadda ya mean? You saw me playing hockey all night, I got moves.”

  “The moves of a lumberjack.”

  “Ouch,” said Mitch, “ok, watch this.”

  Abby turned and lined up along side Mitch as he launched forward, and then turned backward. He held up his hands for acknowledgements and Abby clapped, and then Mitch held up one finger, looked back for a second for clearance, and then lowered himself. He bent his skating knee down to the ice and extended his other leg, the whole time gliding, a backward shoot-the-duck. Abby clapped again, and right then Mitch fell backward on his bottom. She skated over and pulled him up as he brushed away the ice.

  “Not bad with hockey skates,” said Abby.

  “I can do more.”

  “Just skate next to me,” said Abby, and Mitch did.

  They held hands once more and continued to circle the rink oblivious to the other couples and older children that were out on the ice with them. They skated until the whistle blew for the ice to clear and circled one last time holding hands firmly all the while.

  When Abby exited the ice, she could have easily left her skates on all night not bothering her in the slightest. She was floating on air. When Mitch and Abby did sit down on the bleachers to take their skates off, she complimented him on his skating prowess, and he returned the compliment adding that she must be getting some time skating in the city.

  “Not like this,” said Abby. Abby was not sure if the difference was the ice rink or the company she was keeping while on the ice. Abby was swooning.

  “I suppose not,” said Mitch his eyes moving out to the ice, up at the black satin blanket with the amber lamps blocking the stars, and then over to Abby. He thought she was referring to the place. She was not.

  Mitch put his skates in his duffel bag.

  “Why don’t you give me yours as well,” said Mitch.

  “Are you sure?”

  “No problem,” said Mitch, the corners of his mouth rising with a grin.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing, you can get them tomorrow.”

  Mitch and Abby held each other by the waist walking to the road and then to the back parking lot of the fairgrounds where his truck was parked.

  Once Mitch and Abby were away from the lamps of the rink and the streetlights of the village were to their backs the sky opened up a myriad of stars.

  “This is some thing you don’t get in the city,” said Mitch.

  Abby stretched her arms, smiled, paused, and then said, “This is something I do miss. You know, on a clear night we have at least three stars in the city.”

  “Ha, ha,” said Mitch. “Ha, ha,” said Abby.

  While Mitch and Abby walked, they tried to identify constellations even though neither knew more than the big dipper. The truck was in the center of the parking lot and no one drove through while they walked. Abby leaned back on the tailgate and put both hands in her pockets. Mitch put his gear into the box of the pickup and then turned around and leaned on the back of the tailgate next to her with his hands in his pockets.

  “Oh the hell with it,” said Mitch, and he turned to the front of Abby, took his hands from his pockets to firmly hold her waist and placed his lips on hers. Abby put her arms around his shoulders and pulled his neck close, putting more pressure on their kiss. The kiss was long and after their lips had touched, they gently placed each other’s foreheads against one another and let their eyes meet. They both smiled.

  “Well this is the best thing that’s happened in a long time,” said Mitch.

  Abby could not agree more. She brought one hand down to his side. She let her other hand caress his cheek. “I don’t think that’s happened in a long time,” said Abby.

  Mitch lifted his forehead from hers and then kissed her lips again. Abby eagerly returned the kiss she had been waiting for.

  When Mitch and Abby went into the bar to join the others, truly feeling as though she was back in school, Abby debated for a moment as whether or not they should enter separately and they would have had Mitch not convinced her that was not necessary.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 25

  Abby pulled the pickup into the driveway as the mid afternoon winter sun prepared
to set behind her. She had spent most of the day thinking about Mitch and still felt like a schoolgirl. Since their first kiss the night before, every moment had become more intense, more enjoyable.

  The entire day was not all thoughts of Mitch, Abby knew at some point she would need to tell Will that Nathan was coming to dinner tomorrow night. She told herself that she could just wait until dinner and have Nathan show up. That would not be fair to Will, besides, she needed Will to cooperate. She decided that instead of waiting until dinner she would go talk to Will now. She needed to talk to him. She walked into the lit up house and called for her dad. There was no answer so she headed for the studio. Walking through the lake room, she looked out the bay window and saw Will sitting on the split log bench talking with the willow again.

  Will looked across the lake at the approaching night sky and pulled his hand out of his coat pocket to scratch the bottom of his chin.

  Abby walked up behind him and touched his arm, “You got any of that ‘elixir’ dad?”

  Will looked at her, “What?”

  “The brandy you keep in your pocket,” said Abby.

  “Uh, sure,” Will unzipped his coat a third and reached into his inside pocket. He fiddled for a moment and then pulled out the half-pint of ginger brandy then handed the bottle to Abby. Abby pulled her hands out of her pockets opened the bottle and took a long sip.

  “Oooh,” Abby put the palm of her hand to her lips, “it burns.” With a hint of a laugh she said, “Wow, you drink that stuff.” Abby handed the bottle to Will and put both of her hands into her coat pockets and let her back go straight to somehow push the warmth of the alcohol through her faster.

  Will himself took a nip and shook his head, “It’s got a bite.”

  “Elixir, eh?”

  Will offered Abby back the bottle and she put up her hand, “Maybe in a bit.”

  “It’s an acquired taste,” said Will. He put the bottle back into his pocket and zipped up his coat.

  “What you thinking about out here old man?”

  “Just that, getting old. That’s what old men think about,” said Will. He smiled at his daughter. “Would you look at that sky,” Will gestured up through the branches of the giant willow next to them toward the billowy clouds above being slowly pulled across the lake to the new night sky, “no moon behind those clouds yet, the moon rises in an hour and their edges are going to light up like quicksilver.”

  “I remember you used to tell me that the Quicksilver was a Pegasus that came from behind moonlit clouds, and that when the clouds raced across the sky it was because Quicksilver and all of the other Pegasus’ were moving them,” said Abby.

  “Yea,” said Will, “you used to creep out of bed at night and grab the binoculars by the bay window and try to see if you could see a Pegasus. Except you called them Begsus when you were, I don’t know four, five.”

  “Really binoculars?” Abby was laughing.

  “Really, I would come out to see what was going on and you’d say ‘I lookin’ for kiksilva daddy. I’m lookin’ for Begsus’,” both laughed at the idea. “I’d have to chase you to get those binoculars from you and your mother would have to calm you down. I don’t know what she promised you.”

  “She promised me that if I was a good girl, you would get me a ride on a Pegasus,” said Abby.

  “And you bought it.”

  “And I bought it,” said Abby, “she told me that you were secretly a King and I was a Princess and that if you called Quicksilver he would have to come to take me through the clouds. But first, I had to go to sleep. She could tell me anything.”

  “Me too, hon.”

  “I saw you from the window looking at the tree.”

  “Looking at the tree. Looking at the sky. Thinking old man thoughts.”

  “Yea, I miss her too,” said Abby.

  “Of course you do,” said Will, “the temperature is going to drop. We should be going in.”

  “I wanted to ask you, are you sure about those cables up there?” Abby was referring to the two cables that went from high in the tree to the studio and the house.

  “Oh ya, this summer Connie Zeller brought over his cherry picker and we made sure they were fastened up good. They’ll hold,” said Will.

  “You really think the tree is going to fall into the lake?”

  “Well you can see how close the lake is getting. I don’t want to take any chances. She’s good and anchored now.”

  “Well ok. I got the house in shape,” Abby was changing the topic. “Fixed everything back up the way you like it, got all of the laundry done, old mail sorted out, everything dusted.”

  “You’ve been a big help Abby, you have, but you didn’t have to do all of that.”

  “Dad, you had clothes growing together, and I don’t know what was living in the refrigerator.”

  “Nothing that would have stood a fighting chance,” Will was trying to cute his way out of the conversation.

  “You got to promise me you will keep it up though,” said Abby.

  “Well, sure I’ll do my best.”

  “You promise?”

  Will now detected a ruse yet was not quite sure what that would be.

  “Ok, I promise,” Will’s voice quickened, “now can we go in?”

  “In a minute,” said Abby sweetly. “ I don’ think you can keep that promise by yourself.”

  “Now hold on just a minute --,” said Will however he was too late, he had fallen into Abby’s trap.

  “There’s no way you an take care of this whole place by yourself anymore.”

  “I have been just fine for pert near seventy years and am just fine now. I told you before I don’t need any one messing around here. I’ll shoot whoever shows up.”

  “You will not Will Bellen. Your assistant Nathan will be here tomorrow.”

  “My assistant?” asked Will. He had not been thinking of a man at all, certainly not an assistant.

  “Yes your assistant, be ready to tell him what to do. He can help in the studio too.”

  “He can stay out of my studio,” said Will, one last stand.

  “At first,” said Abby.

  “I guess I won’t shoot him.”

  “That would be nice, we do have to pay him either way,” said Abby and she bent over and kissed her father on the cheek.

  Will took the bottle out of his coat again and offered the brandy to Abby. She took the bottle and took another nip, “Whoo,” said Abby, “and very shortly we’re going to be talking about this too.”

  “I told you it’s an acquired taste.”

  Abby handed the brandy back to her father, as he grabbed for the bottle she held the glass tightly for a second before releasing, “That’s not what I mean.” She then bent over and kissed her fathers forehead.

  Will kept his gaze forward into the coming darkness of the new night sky. He took another sip of elixir, put the bottle away, then zipped up his coat, and put his hands in his pockets.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 26

  The following evening was uncharacteristically warm for the season and the expected snowfall fell in large wet flakes. Will built a fire in the lake room and stoked the coals on the bottom until they burned bright orange. The room was toasty and both reading lamps were on giving the impression that the bay window was a painting of the grey outside if not for the large wet chunks of snow running down the pane.

  Will yelled into the kitchen, “The roads are going to be impossible you know.”

  Abby yelled back, “He called. He’s still coming.”

  “Well, if he makes it here. I don’t know if I’ll be able to get him if he gets stuck somewhere.”

  Abby ignored his last comment and continued creaming the sugar and the butter in the large clay-mixing bowl. She decided to make a cake for their guest, or maybe for Mitch, or maybe to relax her and she knew that this evening had the potential to be a disaster. Abby never considered herself a great baker or cook yet when things became stressful she did a
fare share of both. She had heard on a food show that a favorite around the set was pistachio-cardamom cake so she had the recipe. That recipe ranked easy on the simplicity scale, always put her in a good mood, and turned out to be one of her favorites. The cake could have been pistachio cake if the IGA had not had cardamom or chocolate cake if they had no pistachios. Baking any cake would have sufficed to ease the stress.

  * * * * *

  Their guest tonight, Nathan Albright, had just moved to the other side of the lake from Fremont. Nathan decided to move to Willow Lake for a more relaxed pace than he found working in Fremont and had been seeking a position while Abby was searching for someone to help Will out. He had been commuting to his old job. This job would give him the chance to work locally in a more intimate setting and he was looking forward to meeting Will. Abby had warned Nathan that Will did not look forward to meeting him.

  Nathan drove his jeep a constant twenty-five miles per hour down the bends and turns around Mount Frisia and South Point and then up to the Bellen’s. Having been there already once before to talk to Abby he was comfortable in his way, despite the quickly falling snow.

  * * * * *

  Abby had mixed in the ground pistachios with the egg, cardamom, and flour batter and poured the mix into a pan to put in the oven. The raw batter was delicious and Abby was sure she could eat the whole batch if she allowed herself.

  After putting the cake in the oven, she checked that everything else was ready for dinner. She had moved the lasagna from the oven to the microwave to keep warm. The string beans and butter were essentially finished in the saucepan and would just need heat. The risotto would need some final preparation, yet was simmering fine. She checked the place settings on the table to be sure they were in order and determined that if anything went wrong in the next few hours the food would not.

 

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