The Potter's Daughter (Literary Series) (33 page)

BOOK: The Potter's Daughter (Literary Series)
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Abby could now see Will inside the
coffin, next to him a photograph of an unsuspecting family twenty years passed,
her father, mother, Michael, and her propped up in a black wooden frame.
 
The room shrank as Abby glided to the
side of her father.

“That’s a nice suit,” said Abby in
a soft voice.
 
She reached in and
felt the lapel.

“Brian got it from the house.
 
It was set aside per Will’s
instructions.
 
Brian said he had a few
of them, I was surprised.”

Abby sighed, “He wore them when he
was young, Mom and he used to go to the city.”

“Oh, I never knew that,” said
Caroline.

“He looks good,” said Abby.

“Yes, he does.”

“He would hate that.”

“What?”

“People always say things like
that, ‘He looked good’.
 
Will would
hate that I said that,” said Abby.

“Well,” Caroline paused, “Well, he
does.
 
Look at him.
 
He looks great.”

“He does, doesn’t he,” said Abby.

“Are you ok?
 
Do you want a minute?”

“Yea, a minute.”

“I’ll be over hear hon,” Caroline
kissed Abby on the forehead and then squeezed her arm tight before walking to
the row of chairs where Brian was waiting for her.
 
Brian handed Caroline a packet of tissue
wrapped in plastic.
 
She quickly
removed two tissues and dabbed her eyes.

Abby placed both hands along the
smooth edge of the casket and looked long into the pillow.
 
She had not seen Will’s usually
disheveled hair neatly combed or cut.
 
Now he wore the style of a man she did not recognize.
 
Not that
Will
could not pull off a look so debonair, even in the coffin he was a handsome
man, still this was not his look.
 
This was not her Will, the Will in the photograph with the perpetual
boyish charm.
 
Abby did see before
her a peaceful Will and in that she took solace.
 
That solace alone must have subdued her,
for she could find no further feelings or thoughts at that moment.
 
There was no misting of the eyes, no
churning stomach, her jaw relaxed.
 
Abby raised her hands lightly from the coffin and placed them back
again.
 
She would have more time to
spend with Will at the funeral.
 
The
final goodbye to her father and the deliberation of what to do would not have
to come right now.

Abby turned away from the coffin to
face the room.
 
Brian and Caroline
stood and stepped forward to embrace her.
 
Abby felt the familiar peculiarity of all the adjoining rooms silencing
to a murmur again.
 
Not about to be
made the center of attention due to sympathy Abby wanted to quell any unneeded
tension before the tension arose.
 
An overt smile to Caroline and Brian and an open embrace relaxed the
tension in the rooms before uneasiness could mount.

Over Caroline’s shoulder Abby saw
Nathan for the first time.
 
He sat
against the wall with his hair pulled back and head hung low.
 
Abby excused herself and Caroline
whispered, “He has been taking this hard, he found Will and all.”
 
Abby walked over to where Nathan sat and
took the empty seat next to him.
 
Nathan kept his head hung low not noticing that Abby had sat down.
 
She placed her hand on his back and he
slowly lifted his head.
 
Nathan’s
glasses were misty and his face red, and his nose running.
 
In his hands was some crumpled up
tissue.

“Oh, Nathan.
 
You poor dear,” said Abby as she
gestured back to Caroline to bring over more tissues.

Nathan sniffled and smiled, “I’m
ok.
 
How are you?”

“Best as can be expected,” said
Abby.

“I have been praying for you,” said
Nathan.

“I’m sure you have.
 
You’re so sweet.”

Abby put her arm around Nathan and
pulled his head on her shoulder, “It’s alright.
 
Don’t cry.
 
Will’s in a better place.”
 
Abby could hear herself consoling Nathan
with the same words she had heard all evening.

“Do you think so?” asked Nathan.

“Sure.”

“Because I’m not so sure he was a
believer.
 
He liked to make fun on
my account.”

Abby thought about what Nathan said
and responded, “Will liked to have fun.
 
But he was a believer all right.
 
I don’t think I ever met anyone madder at God than him.
 
He had to believe in him to be that
mad.”

“He was mad?”

“Not when you knew him, but when
Mom was sick, and after she died.
 
He finally made his peace.”

“You think so?”

“I know so,” said Abby, realizing
that she and her father had shared something all along.

Nathan took tissues from the
package that Caroline gave him and the girl’s consoled him until his sobbing slowed.
 
Abby stood and once again embraced her
cousins and whispered into their ears, “His timing couldn’t be better.”
 
Caroline and Brian turned to see Mitch
at the parlor door shaking hands with Josh Colden from the lumberyard.
 
Brian stepped to the side, keeping his
arm around Caroline and she continued to keep her arm around Abby in turn.
 
Mitch matched eyes with Abby and the two
shared a subtle smile.
 
Mitch patted
Josh on the arm and approached Abby.
 
Mitch shook Brian’s hand and kissed Caroline’s cheek.
 
Then Caroline handed Abby off to Mitch
and the two embraced each other.

“How are you doing?” asked Mitch.

“I’m so glad you came.
 
Now let’s get out of here,” said Abby.

“Sure thing,” said Mitch.

 

* * *
* *

 

 

Chapter 68

The lake appeared pristine.
 
The overcast sky made the ice a subtle
blue among the grey shadows of the small snowdrifts.
 
Abby stood with her arms crossed, white
wine in hand, gazing out through the glass doors of Caroline’s kitchen.
 
The kitchen buzzed with people moving
about behind her.
 
Though there had
been a marathon of mingling, the lake took her attention when she passed by the
doors.
 
Abby had survived through
the funeral service earlier in the day as a matter of course.
 
The memorial service at Bennington had
gone much the same as the viewing, with an even greater number of people,
though Abby was not as surprised as before.
 
Her vision of Will as obstinate and
distant had overshadowed his pervasive charm that she knew now had such an
affect on others.
 
She did what she
felt her duty, to greet everyone and share their celebration for her father’s
life.
 
Now at a second reception at
Caroline’s, a smaller group of Willow Lake people gathered to pay their
condolences.
 
All of the greeting
and congeniality had a toll that Abby started to feel.

As Abby peered out across the lake,
she realized that she needed to see the house.
 
In the few days that Abby had been back
at the lake, she had not been to the house or the studio.
 
There had been no obstruction to a
visit.
 
There simply had been no
real reason for her to go.
 
Everything Abby needed was at her cousin’s house, the necessities of
living, a room for herself, and family for support.

Abby sighed and slowly turned from
the glass doors.
 
She scanned the
faces of everyone in the room and, with a smile, excused herself.
 
She made her way to the outer room
toward the stairs.
 
As Abby took the
first step of the staircase she saw Caroline talking to Emma Shaw.
 
Caroline raised her brow in Abby’s
direction and Abby nodded back, and then went up the stairs to her room.

In her room Abby slipped out of her
skirt and blouse and put on blue jeans and a sweater.
 
Then she pulled her skates out of the
travel bag, sat on the bed, and placed them next to her.
 
She crossed her arms and leaned forward,
slightly bowing her head.
 
A light
knock came at the door and Caroline entered, “Hey, I thought I better check to
see if you were surviving the marathon.”

Abby turned her head to the side,
grinned softly, and then said, “It keeps going doesn’t it?”

Caroline took a seat on the bed on
the other side of the skates, and then picked them up and held them.
 
“Thinking of going out on the ice?”

“Yea, I was.
 
Do you think that’s stupid?”

“You need some air.
 
You should go for it.
 
I’ll hold down the fort.
 
It’s about to wrap up anyway.”

“Thanks,” said Abby.
 
“You know I don’t even know why I
brought them.
 
They were by the door
when I left the city.
 
I don’t know
what I was thinking.”

“Well,” Caroline held the skates
out for Abby to take, “it’s a good thing you did.”

Abby chuckled and then said,
“Caroline.”

“Yea.”

“Mitch went to the IGA with
Brian.
 
He’ll be back soon.”

“Don’t worry about Mitch,” said
Caroline.

“Caroline.”

“Yea.”

“I don’t suppose you have a jacket
I can wear.
 
I don’t have a good one
for the lake.”

“Sure, let me get it for you.”

The two went to the hall and
Caroline took one of her jackets out of the closet as well as some gloves and a
hat.
 
“These will be better than
whatever you have.
 
Go out the front
door so you don’t have to explain yourself to anybody.
 
You can take the side deck around and
then down to the lake.”

“Thanks again,” said Abby, “for
everything.”

Abby did not bother to slip her
sneakers on.
 
She followed Caroline
downstairs and per her cousin’s advice slipped out the front door without
making eye contact with anyone.
 
The
crisp air washed against her as the door closed behind.
 
She felt liberated from the duties of
ceremony that had burdened her over the last few days.
 
Abby moved hurriedly with quick short
steps around the corner to get out of view from the atrium before putting the
jacket on, and then she scurried just as quickly down to the deck by the
lake.
 
Abby only then glanced up at
the house with some notion that she may have been followed before resting to
put her skates on.

For the first time since Abby had
received the call about
Will
she felt light and
rejuvenated.
 
Abby laced her skates
tight and put on her gloves and then eased onto the ice.
 
With a few strides Abby launched herself
out onto the surface of Willow Lake.
 
At first she skated out toward the center of the lake.
 
Her mind clear, only the sounds of each
skate cutting into the frozen mirror below her and faintly off to her left, a
quad runner pulling a skiff away from a shanty.
 
From the distance the skiff was floating
across the lake rather than being dragged on the ice.
 
Abby picked up speed and let her legs go
limber below her.
 
On the edge of
the lake the trees and houses were sleepy under the grey sky.
 
The tree line pulled the grey from the
sky, absorbing the dark though still early afternoon.
 
Once out on the lake Abby let herself
turn in the direction of her family home.
 
Abby’s arms were by her side, she put her gloved hands into the wide
pockets of the jacket, and she settled into a rhythmic motion, breathing
slowly, moving effortlessly.
 
She
was honed on the direction that she had skated so many times before as a child.

It was not until Abby came to the
outcropping of the point before Bellen cove that her heart began to race.
 
Around the point would be the house and
the studio, The Bellen studio.
 
Abby’s chest tightened and her mind raced with the name Bellen.
 
Abby was now the only Bellen.
 
Abby slowed then stopped.
 
Abby wanted to be prepared for what she
would see when she rounded the point.
 
Pulling her hands from her pockets Abby shook her arms to loosen her
body in an attempt to fight off the oncoming tension.

Abby skated on.
 
Her heart beat harder and her stomach
ached.
 
As Abby cleared the tall
pine on the point the first thing she could see was the willow.
 
Abby’s eyes widened and filled with
tears.
 
Abby skated forward
stiffly.
 
The willow spread
shattered across the ice.
 
A soft
blanket of snow lightly covered the tree, broken midway in two, with branches
scattered out into the cove.
 
Held
up like a large fan, the roots of the willow were pulled from the base of the
shore.

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