The Potter's Daughter (Literary Series) (15 page)

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.

* * *
* *

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.”