This meeting would have the same outcome no matter what Will’s response. He had always been sweet, cordial to everyone in the past, and for the most part still behaved that way, regardless Abby rightly considered him unpredictable now, on this topic in particular. Since the news of the dinner guest had been delivered, Will had appeared to be unaffected. Sure, he had made a couple of slight comments that could have been interpreted as aggressive yet they were not outright hostile. That had always been his way at his worst, to whittle away and badger by comment until he gained some sort of satisfaction or repose. Whether he had any ill intentions was hard for her to tell. Her guard up, Abby did the best she could with what was under her control and prepared a good dinner. The rest she would have to take in course.
Twenty minutes later headlights filled the window of the kitchen door. Nathan had arrived. Abby gave Will a thirty-second warning and told him that if he was counting on any surprises to forget about them altogether. Ignoring her comment, he came into the kitchen to greet their guest.
Nathan made his way to the door in a quick jog with his head bent, his long sandy blonde hair covering his face, and his sneakers splashing through the slush accumulating in the driveway. Abby held the door for him as he entered. Will stood behind her not quite sure of what he was seeing. Abby had not described to Will the guest coming to dinner. Will just knew the guest was supposed to be someone to turn his life upside down. Will’s forehead furrowed and a pleasant smile crossed his face. This was not somebody’s old wet nurse at the door. Nathan was just a kid not even thirty and Will would have no problem driving him out.
The first thing Nathan did as he walked in the door was hand Abby a bouquet of mixed ranunculus and anemones. “These flowers were the best I could find at the florist,” said Nathan. “ I was lucky. I didn’t know they closed so early. I was the last customer of the day.”
Abby took the flowers, “Nathan, they’re lovely. These ranunculus are beautiful. Thank you so much.” Will could not wait for Abby to finish thanking Nathan, he stepped up and introduced himself, “Hi, I’m Will, can I take your coat?”
“Sure,” Nathan started to remove his denim jacket and hooded sweatshirt beneath it, “I’m Nathan, pleased to meet you.” Nathan’s thin-framed glasses began to fog over.
“Let me help you with that,” said Abby in a low tone as she took the back of Nathan’s jacket with her free hand so he could remove the coat easily. She decided she needed to distract Will before he could do any damage by unsettling Nathan. “Will, I think the beans might be burning. Can you check them please?” The beans were fine of course yet now Will was subdued. Abby added, “And could you take a peek at the risotto too while your there? I’m afraid it’s drying out.”
“Risotto, that sounds real good,” said Nathan.
“I hope you like lasagna too,” said Abby.
“Sure do.”
* * * * *
Chapter 27
Once in the kitchen Abby offered Nathan a seat at the table, put the bouquet of ranunculus and anemones in the sink, and then went to the refrigerator. Will figured he would make another start “So, Nath--,”
“That risotto does look like it’s getting dry,” Abby handed him a box of chicken stock, “here, add three tablespoons of this once every minute, no better be every forty-five seconds, and keep stirring, don’t stop stirring.”
“Uh, ok,” said Will.
“Oh, you have to keep the lid on the whole time,” scolded Abby.
“The lid, but how can I?”
“Like this,” Abby showed him how to leave just the side open to stir.
“Now don’t stop stirring,” said Abby. “Got it,” said Will.
“Three tablespoons every forty-five seconds,” said Abby. Will nodded his head.
This would keep him occupied for ten minutes.
Abby went back to the sink and winked at Nathan. She would not let Will get the best of Nathan, though the price so far may be risotto soup.
“Nathan can you reach that yellow vase on top of the cupboard?” asked Abby.
“Sure,” said Nathan as he rose to help her.
“How was the drive over here?”
“It’s all going to turn to ice,” said Will. “Keep stirring,” said Abby.
“It wasn’t so bad. My Jeep’s four wheel drive made me feel pretty safe, and I keep it under thirty miles an hour if the weather is at all questionable,” said Nathan.
Will so much wanted to comment yet he had to keep count to forty-five. “What a complicated recipe,” he thought.
“Let’s see,” Abby scanned the kitchen and counted with her hands, tapping each finger on her thumb. “Nathan can you help me with the bread?”
“No problem,” said Nathan.
Abby sliced the French loaf procured earlier that day from the IGA then Nathan spread the garlic butter she had prepared onto each piece, placing them on a sheet pan so they would be ready for the oven when the cake came out. They talked about Nathan’s new apartment while he laid out the bread and Will listened. The new development had just been built on the lake on the south edge of the village next to the small boat docks. The development had three buildings each three floors high as well as a pool, game room, and gym. The whole complex could be seen almost directly across the lake from the Bellen studio. Will wanted so much to say something about this too.
“They’re an eyesore,” said Will.
“Will,” said Abby.
“Well they are. Right there next to the village,” Will shook his head, “have to look at ’em.”
“They actually blend in nicely, and they are a lot better than that mill that used to be there when I was a kid,” said Abby. She was right, the development was put in place of an abandoned lumber mill.
“That old mill was just a big rusted metal building with those ugly beltways leading to nowhere while the new buildings are designed to blend with new trees and boulders. You have to admit that they landscaped the grounds beautifully,” said Abby. “Keep stirring.”
“Hmm,” said Will.
“Ok, It’s time for the cake to come out,” said Abby.
Abby let Will step away from the stove then turned the heat off the risotto and the beans. She removed the cake then put the bread in the oven. She started to corral the men to the table so that she could begin bringing the food over. Will took the opportunity to excuse Nathan and himself to wash their hands.
Five minutes later, the bread was out of the oven, the food was on the table, and the men had not returned. Abby became suspicious. She could not hear them talking. She thought for a moment, “would Will do anything radical, of course not.” She walked into the lake room and no one was there. Out the side window, she could see the studio lights were on. “That could be ok,” she thought. “He’s not going to put him in a kiln. It’s just the standard tour.”
* * * * *
Chapter 28
The Bellen tour was a studio standard that Abby had heard many times before. She helped Michael learn the tour when they were children. The studio at first glance was haphazard yet might as well have been a museum display. Every piece or tool could be referenced at any point during the tour or made a prop as if planned all along. School children from fifty miles away had come on field trips to the studio to see the Bellen urns and to learn how over the years the pottery had found homes around the world. In the foyer of the studio, there was a wall of fame that featured photographs of Bellen pottery on display in the cities of Paris, London, Vienna, and of course the Bellen urns of the White House. Through out the studio was every tool a potter or ceramic artist might want to use: feathering tools, drill tools, fettling knives, fluid writers, and on and on. For each tool an example of the finished work or a work in progress. There were manual kick wheels, electric kick wheels, small kilns, of course the large kilns. There was the urn assembly line, though the process was never referenced like that, which would be explained in detail with examples along the way. In addition, in every tour the
pedigree was discussed, there had always been a Bellen, from this father’s father to that father’s father back to northern Italy.
Abby slipped on a pair of large green rubber boots that she kept by the back door, grabbed a jacket off a hook, and tromped out into the wet snow with the jacket over her head. When she got to the studio she stomped her feet on the concrete floor to get the sticky snow off the boots. Sure enough, she could hear Will in the big room talking about when his grandfather built the studio. She walked in and smiled, Will and Nathan were holding paper cups and a bottle of wine sat uncorked on the worktable. Naturally he would have wine in the studio, “there had always been drinking hadn’t there?” she asked herself. “There certainly was when Michael died,” a voice inside her head echoed that did not seem to be her own. They were all artists, they all drank, and she asked herself what made her father any different, what was different now?
Will stopped talking about the pedigree, “Hey there Abby. Nathan and I were just getting to know one another.”
“You two disappeared on me,” said Abby. Just getting to know one another, her father was a very charming man and she was a bit scared for Nathan.
“Your father was just telling me all about the studio and how your great-grandfather built it,” said Nathan. His voice sounded confident, just as charming she thought. Good, he was not going to let himself be sucked in.
Will tilted his head back and let his chest pump out, “Did you know Nathan has been to the Bellen installation at the Fremont museum? They still have it there.”
Will was quite proud of the museum installation and the stories about his grandfather. Bellen pottery was renowned in his grandfather’s own generation making him a local celebrity.
“You don’t still go every year to check on it?” asked Abby.
“Not like I used too,” said Will.
“I’m glad the two of you are talking, but dinner is on the table,” said Abby.
“Oh my risotto,” said Will, “don’t want it to dry out.”
“Might as well bring the wine while you’re at it,” said Abby.
The three went back into the house and sat at the table, Will across from Nathan. Abby was quite pleased that Will and Nathan were getting along, which essentially meant that Will did not hate Nathan. She watched Will as he picked up his fork and Nathan bowed his head. “This could be bad,” she thought.
“Do you say grace?” asked Will.
Nathan raised his head, looked across the table to Will with an impish smile, “Yes Will, I do. I take it you don’t.”
“Not normally.”
“Would you like to join me?”
“Um, sure,” Will bowed his head. Abby also bowed her head, leery of any outburst that may come from Will concerning grace.
Will was not an atheist, or even agnostic. He believed in God all right, he just had some issues with him. Issues in particular concerning the death of his wife and son.
Nathan bowed his head again, closed his eyes behind his glasses, and spoke slowly and solemnly,
“We thank thee, O Lord, for this food,
And for the health of those here to share it today.”
Good thought Abby, brief and to the point.
Nathan went on,
“May we use it to nourish our bodies,
And thee, O Lord, to nourish our souls.”
Abby peeked over at Will, his head was bowed, a good sign.
“Make us ever more mindful of the needs of others,
And the needs of our planet.
For we have the benefits they do not,
And we have you, O Lord.”
Abby could tell Will was rubbing his teeth with his tongue by the way his cheeks and lips were being pushed from his gums. Nathan had more prayer to share,
“May we be ever thankful,
And forget not those benefits.
Through Christ Our Lord, Amen.”
“Amen,” said Abby.
“Amen,” said Will in a slightly enthusiastic voice, “Covered the world on that one too, good job. Now let’s enjoy this dinner,” Will paused, tilted his head to the side and made an ear to ear grin, “before this risotto dries out.”
Abby portioned the lasagna and served Will and Nathan while all three talked about how everything on the table looked so good. The subject of grace and God had passed and Abby, relieved at that, decided to move forward with her task.
“Nathan tell us about what you were doing in Fremont before moving to the village,” said Abby.
“I was a caregiver,” said Nathan.
“What does that mean – caregiver?” asked Will.
“Well the shared home where I worked was the residence of six people ranging from around my age to the mid-fifties. Two of the residents were not ambulatory, the other four were, and all had health conditions that necessitated either twenty-four hour care or basic help. I performed various activities from mowing the lawn to monitoring people while they slept, which basically meant just being at the house a couple nights a week in case anyone needed anything.”
“So you were a babysitter?” asked Will.
“Will, he was not a babysitter,” said Abby.
“Actually,” said Nathan, “I kinda was, in a lot of ways. Maybe not a babysitter exactly, but I was around if anybody needed anything. And stuff needed to get done, the shopping, the laundry, the cleaning.”
“There ya see,” said Will.
Abby weighed Will’s comment, not sure whether he was patronizing Nathan. Will had appeared to like Nathan yet maybe that was a ploy.
“I can certainly use some help like that around here,” said Will. Abby did not have any words for a moment.
“Abby tells me I can’t seem to keep up with anything anymore. I guess she’s right. Besides, I’m back ordered in the studio and some help would free up my time.”
“This was too easy,” thought Abby, “Will could not be giving in without a fight.” She was certain that Nathan would find Will capricious by his next actions, yet they did not come.
“Yes,” said Abby, “as we discussed, there are a lot of things that need to be done around here once I get back to the city.”
“Great, let’s go over them after dinner,” said Nathan. “Will, tell me more about the Bellen studio.” Abby thought this genius of Nathan to change the subject and to one of Will’s favorites. With pride, Will continued to discuss the aspects of firing pottery passed down through the Bellen pedigree in detail.
After Will and Nathan each had two servings of lasagna, Will excused himself from the table.
“I thought we might go over some of the tasks that you have in mind for Nathan before he starts,” said Abby.
“You go right ahead,” said Will, “ I’m going into the other room to stoke the fire and rest for a moment. You two should join me when you’re done.”
Abby let Will leave the room without saying another word to him. She had decided that he was going to accept Nathan coming on board peacefully enough and this was better than she had hoped for.
“That didn’t go so bad,” Abby said to Nathan after Will had stepped out of the room. Nathan picked up the near empty bottle of wine and poured the remainder into Abby’s glass. “That’s because he was drunk. I could have lit the place on fire and he probably wouldn’t have minded as long as I was polite about it,” said Nathan.
Abby knew that to be true. Abby had surmised that Will had been drinking all day out of her sight.
“It’s a start,” said Abby.
“Agreed,” said Nathan.
Abby got up from the table and began clearing the dinner plates. Nathan stood up and started to help by clearing the serving bowls from the table and putting them on the counter. Abby took the serving bowls from him before he had a chance to set them down.
“Go on into the other room, I’ll get some cake for us,” said Abby.
“What about the roads? Should I be worried about getting out of here?” asked Nathan.
“Oh, I am pr
etty sure Will was right. You’re staying in the guest room tonight. I already had it freshly made up, just in case,” said Abby.
“In for a penny, in for a pound,” said Nathan.
“You’re in for something, that’s for sure,” said Abby.
* * * * *
Chapter 29
The only vehicle parked outside the garage was Mitch’s yellow pickup. The other workers were gone for the day and the Johansson house looked desolate. Maybe because of the size of the house or because no one had lived there for so long, either reason the house had always appeared eerily vacant to Abby any time she looked at the vacuous windows. She parked the truck and went to the kitchen door where she had entered before. Taped on the kitchen door window was a note written in black marker that read, ‘GO TO THE FRONT DOOR’, in capital letters. Assuming work was probably being done on the floors of the kitchen, or some adjoining area, Abby walked around the driveway to what Mitch had called the guest entrance. She looked forward to having lunch with Mitch and then maybe spending the afternoon together if he could get away.
They had not seen each other since they had kissed a couple of days before. Their eyes had been locked on each other the rest of the evening and Abby had used all of her strength to not cuddle against him when they went back into the bar. When the time came for Brian to drive her home, she could have easily let herself leave with Mitch. She was glad he had not offered. She only had three beers at the bar still Abby felt that she had little control before she ever arrived. The intoxication came from somewhere else.
Once on the porch Abby saw another note taped to one of the large oak doors that read, ‘COME IN TO THE LIBRARY’. Remembering what her father had said about the urns made her smile as she walked past them. In the foyer, she was hit by the smell of popcorn.
The Potter's Daughter (Literary Series) Page 11