Abby felt relieved simply knowing she would have her cousin Caroline, her friend since childhood, to listen to her. She pulled the truck back onto the road and drove to the village. She focused on what to say to Caroline, and what to ask her.
* * * * *
Chapter 32
“So I don’t get the problem,” said Caroline. She sipped her white wine then continued, “You wanted to meet someone, a great guy, and hit it off and from what you describe, it sounds like you found that in Mitch. What are you complaining about?”
The tavern was empty apart from the cousins. They sat at a table with a window that looked out toward the lake. The outside was the only light to the interior. Abby’s Chardonnay tasted smoky yet warm so she dropped in an ice cube from her water glass that melted without cooling the wine.
As much as Abby did not like what Caroline said she knew the words to be the truth. Mitch did exhibit all signs of the suitor she was looking for. Mitch was a great guy and they sure got along, this afternoon proved that in some intimate ways. Abby did not think a relationship could be that simple though. She had peered into Mitch’s eyes at the lake and saw turmoil.
“Maybe he is falling for you?” said Caroline, “That’s not the worst thing in the world.”
“He talks about the city like it will kill him if he returns there. I know there is something that he is not telling me, and I am pretty sure it’s something you know,” said Abby.
Caroline’s forehead wrinkled at the socially awkward accusation. She would have liked to dismiss the comment with a statement to Abby’s overreacting then decided that would not be best. Abby looked at her and waited for a reply.
“I thought enough time had passed since I brought him out here.”
“Why did you bring him out here? What kind of baggage are we talking about?”
“Well, where do I start?”
“Start with how you know Mitch, then how he ended up in Willow Lake,” said Abby. Abby began to wonder if her cousin purposely withheld some piece of history, another ‘surprise’.
“What did he tell you?” asked Caroline, unsure whether Mitch had shared too much.
“He told me he had a job in the city and that things weren’t working out so you brought him out here.”
“Did he tell you about anything before that?”
“Uh, yea, that he never really came back from Prague… Oh, don’t tell me that this is all about this old girl friend floating around somewhere.”
“Nah, that was years ago. What all did he tell you about her anyway?”
“That they had split up and that he had thought he could deal with it, but ended up chasing after her. Only to find in the end that it was over ‘in the most romantic city in the world’ as he put it,” said Abby. “I should have known he was still hung up. How long were they together?”
“Couple of years,” said Caroline.
“And?”
The conversation had turned to a direction that Caroline could exploit, so she continued, “Mitch, Marcy, and I went to school together. We were tight. The short of it is that Marcy decided overnight that she was too young to be tied down and needed to see the world so she headed to Europe. She asked Mitch to respect it, which he did at first, yet it wasn’t too long that he was heartbroken. I mean it was sad to watch.” Caroline took a sip of her wine, “so, he finally went chasing after her and caught up with her and her girlfriend in Dublin, followed her through London, Paris and Prague, where she cut him loose. She told him he needed to go. He was devastated and stayed in Prague drunk for a season. When he finally got back to the States he found out Marcy was living with some guy somewhere in Morocco. He tried to get back on track and, well I think you know the rest. He essentially had a breakdown in the city. It broke my heart to see him tear himself apart, so Brian and I brought him out here.”
“Caroline, what am I supposed to say. That is so sad,” said Abby. “When you say broke down what do you mean?”
“Helpless.”
“What about his family?”
“There’s no family, he’s somehow the last of his people. He never knew his mom and his dad disappeared when we were in school.”
“I gotta say I’m touched but c’mon Caroline.” Abby felt insulted. “You think I remind him of this Marcy. That’s just wrong.”
“I don’t think it’s so, it’s been years,” said Caroline, she could see that Abby had been caught in the allure of the story. “He knows you’re going back to the city and that probably just freaks him out in general. I mean if there is really something going on between you two that would make sense.”
Abby put her finger to her temple and fixed her eyes to Caroline.
“And what’s this thing about the city?” asked Abby.
“Mitch grew up in the city, simple as that I think.”
“Ghosts are only where we put them,” said Abby.
“What?”
“Something Mitch said to me that makes more sense now,” said Abby as she picked up her Chardonnay and took a drink. “He literally keeps his ghosts in the city, that way Willow Lake is free and clear. As long as he avoids the city he’s fine.”
“Sounds familiar doesn’t it.”
Abby smirked at Caroline’s reversal. “There aren’t just ghosts in Willow Lake, Deary. There are plenty of ghoulies too.”
“I suppose there is at least one at the studio.”
“Tromping around in the darkness,” said Abby. They both laughed and then there was a silence. Caroline looked out the window.
“So what do you plan to do?” asked Caroline
“What I planned to do, I am going back to the city.”
Caroline looked out toward the lake and back at Abby, “You didn’t tell Mitch when you plan to leave did you.”
Abby turned her head down to her wine glass, “I didn’t see any point in complicating things.”
* * * * *
Chapter 33
The large acrylic brush coated the two-foot urn with a now soft green viscous glaze. After seasoning in the kiln, the glaze would become a clear thick lacquer. Nathan had four urns to glaze and this was his second. Will hovered above coaching him not to be afraid to ‘glop’ large amounts of glaze onto the urn. Will had his glasses on so he could see exactly what was happening. His energy was up today and he had been working at a good pace.
Abby was surprised to see Nathan glazing. “Didn’t take long to find Nathan something to do other than just sweeping up,” said Abby.
Will lifted the corner of his top lip. Abby was sure a biting comment would follow, and then he eased back. “Eh,” said Will, “If I’m going to keep up on the current orders Nathan will have to do something around here that can help me out. It’s a job I give to most interns.”
Nathan appreciated Will’s hidden compliments in their banter. Nathan smiled when Abby winked at him. Helping in the studio had been one of the enticing draws to the position.
Abby leaned over Nathan’s shoulder, “Everything working out so far?”
“Will’s a gem,” said Nathan, and then added softly and quickly, “We’re getting along fine. I’ve found my way around the house and the studio easily enough. Will has not stepped in front of my duties and in the short time that I’ve been here, I’ve been able to move through the bedrooms to do the laundry, through the kitchen for cooking and shopping, and freely through each room to keep the place tidy. And Will has been really great to get along with, I think Will is delighted in having assistance around the house.”
Nathan added, “Oh and as you suspected, Will has replenished the not so well hidden bottles of brandy around the house that you had thrown out. I have also seen Will drinking brandy several times when he thought I wasn’t looking and he openly drinks wine around me throughout the day when you’re not around.”
Abby walked over to the large bay window. The icicle-laden eave of the studio cast a shadow on the sill. She had spoken with Nathan to set her comfort level enough to head back to the city.
Her plan was to get a good night’s rest and leave in the morning. Abby had come to tell her father yet as she gazed upon the lake a thought occurred to her. Seeing her father today reminded her of how he used to be. Maybe she was rushing off to soon. Perhaps if she spent more time with her father things would change between them. Perhaps she could fulfill her mother’s promise. All he needed was someone to take care of him.
Abby looked at her father and was filled with new compassion. How handsome he appeared standing with his hands behind his back walking around his studio as the master craftsman. She thought for a moment how lucky she was to have a father that was such a craftsman, an artist, and a true one in a million. How precious their time really was together. With that, she decided that the museum could wait a little longer. Maybe she would take an early sabbatical. In a moment of spontaneity, Abby asked Will to come over to the window.
Abby had long thought about working in the studio with her father even if only in the back of her mind. Will had a large number of special orders and backorders for his regular clients. Abby knew her father could use her help. She knew the standard Bellen designs and could surely help with the backorders. The criteria for the Bellen mark was that they were made by Bellen hands, she had those. She quickly rationalized that if ever there was a time to offer up help, she should now, Will needed help and he would be happy for this chance for his daughter to work with him. Abby’s mind flashed to throwing clay high into urns and tending kilns until dawn. She saw images of her and her father doing detail work in the studio together late into the evening. This would be the way she would reach out to him. She determined to offer to do so.
Will stepped over to the window next to Abby and looked out onto lake with his hands behind has back and a grin upon his face. He glanced back at Nathan and then at Abby and said, “You know you had a good idea here. I like this fella, spies on me a bit though.”
Abby glanced back at Nathan, he had heard Will, and then with a smile to Will, “Does he?”
“Not all the time, but he sure is curious every time I have a nip.”
“I’ll bet.”
“Prays a lot too. Not just at meals, all day. That’s ok though, I like ‘em.”
“Good… So, Dad, I’m pretty much ready to head back to the city. The house is in order. You’re saying that Nathan is working out. But I was thinking…”
“What’s that you’re thinking about dear?”
“Well I was thinking, the museum doesn’t need me back right away, and you have so many orders, I was thinking the studio maybe could use another Bellen for a few days, or longer. Whadda ya think?”
Will’s smile went away from his face and his hands slipped from behind his back to his front pockets. He dropped his head and clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth a little. Though not long at all, to Abby the pause lasted for some time. She tried to keep smiling then her eyes began to fail. Abby could see that Will’s head was going through some elaborate deliberation process. She wondered why would he have to do that. That there would be a chance he would say no had not occurred to her a few minutes before. She no longer smiled.
Will said nothing. He was not deliberating at all, caught off guard he was in some type of shock. Whatever had manifested as new compassion toward her father washed away with his solemn rejection. He could not even humor her to look her in the eyes. He knew that their relationship was diminishing and still he could not help himself. He was overtaken by a void and there were no words he could share with her. Will was engulfed with the thought that the only recent Bellen to work in the studio beside him was Michael. Abby had triggered some kept emotion that he knew too well yet had not felt in some time.
Abby could not believe that Will had gone catatonic on her offer to help in the studio. The thought that to have her work beside him bothered him so badly and not give a reason, not even a response, infuriated her.
“I guess that’s a no,” said Abby. She waited for a reply. Abby had to give him one more opportunity, not out of compassion this time, rather to verify that what he was truly doing was emotionally shunning her, shutting her out, and not the first time. The response did not come. After the pause Abby said, “I’ll be packing in the house,” and then she turned and walked away.
Will stayed in the position he was in with his head turned down. He was unaware that Abby had said anything or that she had even walked away. Will was away in his own little world.
Abby left the studio and walked the newly shoveled path to the house. Her eyes did not well with tears yet her cheeks were flush and her jaw was tight. Once in the house, she went into her bedroom and shut her door. Abby began frantically removing clothes from the bureau and closet and placing them on the bed. The morning would be too long to wait to leave this house.
* * * * *
Chapter 34
A soft knock came upon Abby’s bedroom door, yet Abby continued going through her closet. The knock came again accompanied by Will pleading, “C’mon let me in.” She took the clothes in her hands from the closet and moved them to the bed with her back to the door.
“I’m sorry, open the door,” said Will.
Abby went on sorting clothes.
“Hey listen, I’m sorry, for whatever I did, I’m sorry,” said Will.
Abby stood straight from organizing the clothes on the bed with some still in hand.
“Whatever you did, you’re sorry?” asked Abby.
“Yes,” said Will, thinking this a quick end to his plea, “now open the door.”
Abby threw her arms straight down, still holding the blouse she was folding, and turned to the door, “You don’t know what you did?”
“Well maybe. Open the door, let me explain,” said Will, realizing he had been overconfident.
The door flew open in front of Will and Abby marched out passed him, “Let you explain. Explain what?”
“Why I didn’t answer.”
Abby turned back to Will. “Is that all you think you did,” said Abby and then kept going down the hall, leaving Will standing in the doorway.
“You just caught me off guard,” said Will. Will began to follow Abby. He caught up to her in the lake room, “ I hadn’t thought about --.”
Abby cut him off, “—Another Bellen besides Michael?”
Abby kept going into the kitchen. She had processed what had happened in the studio. The question was not of Will deliberating whether or not she should stay and help. Abby realized that he was spinning again about her brother. To Abby, the issue with Will was always her brother.
“Now hold on,” said Will walking across the lake room. “Now what exactly is that supposed to mean?”
“You know.”
“There you go,” said Will. He stopped at the kitchen doorway. Abby was at the sink shuffling dishes around with her back to him.
“Whadda ya mean there I go?”
“There you go again. I’m supposed to know what you mean, and, you bringing up Michael,” Will raised his voice, “Christ your brother’s dead!”
Abby stopped shuffling the dishes, raised her head, and with out turning asked, “Is he? Is he the one that’s been dead for the last twelve years?”
“What kind of damn question is that?” Will raised and placed his hand on the back of his neck.
Abby turned toward him, “How about the last twenty?”
“Last twenty?”
Abby looked as deeply as she could into her father’s eyes, “Yea, Daddy,” said Abby, “twenty years ago when Mom passed away and you started pretending I wasn’t there. You think I didn’t notice. Oh, but Michael. You embraced Michael. It was always Michael.”
Abby raised her voice, “I was right here Daddy!”
Abby took a breath. Calmly she added, “I was hurting too. And when Michael died…” Abby nodded her head, “I was hurting then too. And we could have had each other then, but no, you pretended like you were the last member of the family, like you were alone. He was the last of the ‘Bellen Line’, isn’t that what y
ou said at his funeral? Do you know how that made me feel? You made me feel alone. You make me feel alone.”
Will did remember saying that at Michael’s funeral. He of course had been devastated by Michael’s death, had he really excluded his daughter? He couldn’t honestly remember much, everything was dark when he thought back to then, and he did not ever try to think back to then.
“Abby that’s not at all true. I didn’t know what I was saying, my son died --,”
“—It’s all true. You knew what you were saying, the ‘Last of the Bellen Line’, I offered to help in the studio today and you couldn’t even look me in the face! I’m not Michael, Daddy, but I’m a Bellen and I can make pots and urns better than most anybody, I can work with clay and detail better than Michael ever could.”
Will lifted his chin and his voice, “That’s no way to talk about your dead brother.” His hand on his neck began to rub back and forth.
“Still defending him, he’s not even here.”
Will backed up against the doorway, “That’s just about enough, I loved you both. You just don’t understand.” Will put his hands on his face, “I just… with you… after your mother died.” Will tried to form a thought and his brow wavered up and down, then he dropped his hand’s to his sides and looked up toward Abby with surrender, “Hon, I love you, I appreciate everything you’ve done, but this is not the place for you.”
“Don’t understand. Not the place for me. That’s just beautiful.” Abby looked up in the air and raised her hands, “You hear that Mom, he pretends I don’t exist for twenty years and then says I don’t understand.” She dropped her hands and looked back at Will, “Make me understand. Make me understand why, when I keep reaching out to you, you keep pushing me away. Why are you pining away waiting for his return when your daughter is right here to help you? Make me understand cuz I don’t. I don’t understand. I don’t understand why you won’t let me, your daughter, help you. More important I don’t understand why you’re killing yourself in the process. Make me understand.”
The Potter's Daughter (Literary Series) Page 13