The Potter's Daughter (Literary Series)
Read The Potter's Daughter (Literary Series) Online
Authors: Daniel Arthur Smith
THE POTTER’S
DAUGHTER
By
Daniel Arthur Smith
This ebook is licensed for your
personal enjoyment only.
Your support and respect for the property of this author is
appreciated.
This
book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is
purely coincidental.
The characters
are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
The Potter’s Daughter
Copyright © 2009 by Daniel
Arthur Smith
All rights reserved Holt Smith
ltd
Also for Kindle by Daniel Arthur
Smith
The Literary Series
The Potter’s Daughter
Opening Day: A Short Story
The Cameron Kincaid Adventures
The Cathari Treasure
The Somali Deception EPISODE I
The Somali Deception EPISODE II
The Somali Deception EPISODE III
The Somali Deception EPISODE IV
The Somali Deception THE
COMPLETE EDITION
* * * * *
For Susan, Tristan, &
Oliver, as all things are.
* * * * *
Abby sat on the split log bench
sliding her skates back and forth into the grooves of the snow beneath
her.
She pressed her palms upon her
thighs and extended each leg, one at a time, in a slow rhythm.
Her knees rose and fell in time with
deep soft breaths.
Though her legs
were tight, the skates felt good.
Tense since arriving in Willow Lake, she thought a long skate would give
her an opportunity for a much needed work out.
Abby took in a deeper breath and rolled
her head from one side to the other then stretched back, exposing her thin neck
above her scarf.
She peered through
the branches of the willow above and slowly exhaled.
The willow had noticeably grown since
the last time she looked up from this bench.
Her eyes ran up the trunk through naked
branches to the top of the tree some fifty feet above where she sat.
Fixed high in the willow tree were two
thick steel cables.
Abby traced one
back to the house and the other to the studio.
Abby’s father feared that one day the
willow would slip down the embankment into the lake.
He had assured Abby that the equal
tension on the cables would maintain the willow’s upright position.
Though Abby doubted her father’s laymen
engineering she never outright disputed him.
Adding one more contention would not
benefit either of them and to her the cables fastening the tree were trivial.
Abby gave her legs a final
stretch.
She adjusted her pink knit
cap firmly and pulled her chestnut ponytail out of her scarf.
Leaning cautiously against the weeping
willow Abby raised herself off the bench then with small crunching steps moved
down the embankment onto the ice directly below.
The lake had little snow cover and would be
easily traversed yet the only skating Abby had done in years was around the
small city rink at the park.
A rink
that would fit thrice into Bellen Bay and Caroline’s house was far around the
point and half way across the long Willow Lake.
Already so late in the day Abby pondered
if she had underestimated the effort involved in skating as far as her cousin’s
after so many years off the lake.
She set out into the bay to counter any mounting hesitation.
To skate across the lake may be more of
an undertaking than she had imagined yet standing on the shore would not get
her there any faster.
Abby balanced on one blade then
effortlessly switched to the other gliding over the frozen lake.
When she rounded the point to turn
toward her cousin’s she could see that the eastern sky across the lake was
already a dark hue of blue and the details of the trees along that shore were
becoming indefinable.
Above the sky
was grey while to the left in the western horizon remnants of soft sunlight
were disappearing fast.
Rather than hugging the shoreline,
Abby headed out toward the center of the lake.
The openness of the frozen lake and
the brisk air was a welcomed change from Abby’s father’s mess back at the house
on shore.
For Abby’s father
bachelorhood had become a liberty from household responsibility.
When she had arrived at her father’s
house on the lake, most every inch was covered with newspaper or clothing.
Before the house could be cleaned, Abby
spent a day simply organizing the mess.
All of the laundry needed to be done and there was not a clean dish in
the kitchen.
What little was in the
refrigerator had to be thrown out.
Her father had never been stellar at keeping house yet his skills had
deteriorated to almost nonexistent in the twenty years since her mother had
passed.
Abby’s father did not bide well
with her ordering him around.
Often
she had to seek him out in the studio when he was supposed to be helping her in
the house, and though he would perform the tasks she asked of him, she could
hear him grumbling under his breath.
Out on the ice there was no mess,
no father to chase down, and Abby did not dwell on why she was in Willow Lake
instead of the city.
In the catharsis of the skate, Abby
felt she could go the entire length of the lake.
When Abby reached Caroline’s,
yellow lights twinkled within the eastern tree line, headlights and shops
animated the village at the northern tip of the lake, and the last remnant of
day silhouetted the western tree line with a strip of tangerine sky.
* * *
* *
Caroline’s husband Brian greeted
Abby as she skated up to the lakeside.
“Took you long enough,” said
Brian.
He offered his arm out for
Abby.
With his help, she pulled
herself up from the ice onto the terrace to remove her skates.
“I’m sorry.
I had a late start.
I hope Caroline’s ok.”
“Quite alright.
Caroline has almost everything wrapped
up and she is excited to see you.
We both are,” said Brian.
“You are so sweet.
That must be what Caroline sees in you.”
Abby sat on a stone bench then unlaced
her skates.
The house stood on a
hill above her overlooking Willow Lake.
During the day, the house was hardly visible from the lake below.
She looked up at the lights of the
kitchen and could see Caroline and the five-year old twins trying to see out
the large glass doors.
Abby waved
as she crossed the weathered boardwalk between the terrace and the steps of the
house.
Through the surface of the
snow bordering the walk pruned shrubs shivered in their burlap wraps among the
parched straw colored ornamental foliage.
As Abby and Brian topped the steps
Lily and Andrew ran out of the kitchen door bundled in heavy winter
attire.
They scuttled toward Abby
then squeezed her legs tightly when they reached her.
“Hey!
Let’s get inside before we freeze to death,”
said Abby.
Abby led the group stumbling into
the kitchen where Caroline was preparing for the party.
Food in different stages of preparation
covered every counter.
The aroma of
cooked meats and spices filled the room and the sweet smell of a baking cake
lingered above the oven.
Caroline’s blonde hair was held
back with a headband and the oversized collar shirt she wore had flour on the
tails and cuffs.
Caroline embraced her cousin.
“Hey sweetheart,” said Caroline.
They kissed the others cheeks three
times, like they had learned years ago on their summer abroad in Holland.
“Back on the skates, huh?
How is it out there?
The edges were a bit creaky last
weekend.”
“Seems ok now, I’m sure this last
cold snap took care of that,” said Abby.
She removed her cap, scarf, and down vest and took the hot mug of coffee
Brian offered her, “Thank you, nice and hot.”
Lily ran toward the den, kicking a
few strewn wooden blocks in her wake, “Abby come with me!”
“No!
Come look at my room.
I got new bunks.
We can play sleepover,” said Andrew as
he cast off his wool hat and mittens and tossed them onto the floor.
Brian grabbed the mittens off the
floor, “Forget it, we’ve got to go.
You can see Abby later today.”
Brian turned an eye to Abby, “Sorry hon, we were just on the way out the
door, trying to give my darling wife a little uninterrupted time to prepare for
tonight’s festivities.”
“Oh God, I’m so sorry.
Happy Birthday Brian,” said Abby, “I
nearly forgot.”
“Don’t sweat it.
I know you’ve got a lot on your plate
right now.”
Brian leaned over and
kissed her on the cheek.
He assumed
things were tense at home with her father.