The Potter's Daughter (Literary Series) (28 page)

“So how do you feel?” asked Jules.

“I feel hardly anything right at
this second,” said Abby.
 
They both
started laughing again.
 
“Seriously,” said Abby, “I’m good, this is good.
 
But really, no more shots.”

“Ok, ok.
 
Scouts honor.
 
Look over there,” Jules gestured across
the room to the entrance.
 
“That
cute guy has to belong to you.
 
If
not he’s mine.”

At the entrance of the bar stood
Mitch in his jeans and canvas jacket, holding his duffel next to him.
 
He saw the girls watching him so he
raised his hand to wave.

“He’s mine alright,” said
Abby.
 
She got up from the booth and
walked in his direction.

The two met in the middle of the
floor and each raised their arms to the others waists.
 
They gave each other a quick kiss and
then Abby took Mitch’s hand and led him to the table where Jules was waiting
for her kiss on the cheek.

“Aren’t you lovely?” said Jules.

“You must be Jules,” said Mitch.

The girls sat and Mitch took a seat
next to Abby after putting his coat on a hook at the end of the booth.

“So here we are,” said Jules.

“So here we are,” said Mitch.
 
“I suppose I’ll get a beer.”
 
He gestured to the waiter that had
watched him walk over to the table.
 
Mitch glanced at the two shot glasses that Jules had slid to the end of
the table.
 
He exchanged glances
with the girls.
 
“What were those?”
asked Mitch.

“Wanna try one?” asked Jules.

“Forget I asked,” said Mitch.

When the waiter came to the table
Abby was relieved to see Mitch ordering a bottled beer.

Abby felt like she was showing
Mitch off.
 
Jules was chatting away
to Mitch and Abby watched how he held his bottle in his hand away from the
table.
 
She liked how he kept a half
smile on his face and maintained eye contact with Jules while she spoke to
him.
 
He was wearing a cream collar
shirt with a dark blue t-shirt underneath that seemed made for the dark motif
of the bar.
 
Abby thought that he
was charming, as did Jules.
 
He was
charming.
 
To be with the two girls
so politely fawning over him was not hard.

Mitch thought wise to order some
food for the table, and though the girls said that they were not hungry,
everyone ate plenty when the fried calamari and potato skins were brought to
the table.
 
Mitch too was pleased to
be with Abby.
 
He watched her as she
nibbled her food and sipped her beer, giggling at Jules’ wit.

After the appetizers were finished,
Abby suggested they order another round of drinks.
 
That’s when Jules excused herself for
the evening.

“Why don’t we all go then,” said
Abby.
 
“I am sure you want to change
after that train ride, and I’d like to freshen up before dinner.”

Mitch agreed and the three paid the
tab and made their way for the door.
 
Outside the sidewalk now was covered with an inch of snow and flakes
were coming down thick.

“Isn’t this beautiful?” said Jules.

“You want to catch a cab with us?”
asked Abby.

“No you go ahead, I’ll find my own
way.
 
See ya!” said Jules.
 
Jules turned and tromped off in the
snow.

“Will she be able to catch a cab?”
asked Mitch.

“She’s not going home yet.”

“Oh, I see.”

Mitch put his hand up over his brow
and peered in through the snow down the darkened street.
 
“ I’m not sure we’re getting a cab
either.”

“That’s ok, I’m not far.
 
And I have my slicks on.”

Mitch saw that Abby had changed her
shoes before leaving the bar.
 
She
was wearing blue duck shoes.

“Those look comfy,” said Mitch.

“They are.
 
C’mon, this way,” said Abby.

Abby took his arm above the elbow
and pulled him in front of her so that he could lead the way.
 
The night was velvety black and the
flakes appeared from nowhere just feet above their heads.

Abby wondered if Mitch realized
that she had forgotten that she had invited him to come see her this
weekend.
 
She thought about the
linguistic gymnastics she had done on the phone earlier and how transparently
clumsy they were.
 
Then Abby thought
that if Mitch did know, how charming that he had taken everything in stride.

* * *
* *

As they walked along the avenue
toward her apartment Abby pointed out shops that were attributed to her and
why.
 
She used this drycleaner as a
tailor, the other for skirts.
 
This
soap shop is where she got her soaps and bath oil yet when Mitch asked,
certainly not her shampoo, that would be downtown.
 
And when they were within a block of her
apartment she pointed out a sweet shop that had the best gelato and biscotti.
 
Mitch asked how their espresso was and
Abby replied that she did not know where to get a better cappuccino.
 
They decided they needed to have some
then.

The shop was charming as all sweet
shops are, done in a Victorian style and with white Christmas lights
surrounding the windows.
 
Mitch and
Abby sat at a cozy parlor table by the street window, ordered cappuccinos,
pistachio gelato, and split what was described on the menu as molten cake.
 
The fluttering feather flakes of snow
curtained their side and they leaned into each other so as not to have to talk
much more than above a whisper.

“You’re making me eat all of this
cake,” said Abby.

“I don’t think that’s the case,”
said Mitch.

“Have you eaten any?”

“I have.”

Mitch started to laugh at Abby.

“What’s so funny?” asked Abby.

Mitch put his finger to Abby’s chin
and turned her head toward the window.
 
Abby could see on her reflection, chocolate syrup from the molten cake
on her upper lip.
 
Abby tilted her
head back toward Mitch, the corners of her mouth upturned, her cheeks full and
rosy.
 
Mitch offered her his
napkin.
 
She reached her hand passed
the napkin and put her hand on the back of his head.
 
She then pulled him close to her so that
he could remove the syrup with his kiss.
 
They kissed softly.

Abby then touched her forehead to
Mitch’s and nuzzled her nose against his.
 
“You think you got it?” she whispered.

“I think I got it,” Mitch whispered
back.

“Let’s get out of here.”

“Let’s.”

They stood at the same time and
slid their jackets on without disengaging their gaze, each with an impish
grin.
 
Abby picked up her bag and
Mitch his duffel and then she reached for his hand and she led him out of the
shop into the snowy night.
 
As she
pulled him, Mitch playfully pretended at times to resist, causing her to look
back, snicker her nose, then extend her arm and tug.
 
Mitch feigned resistance by leaning
back, then he shuffled, and they would go forward for a few more steps like a
rubber band.
 
They did this all the
way through the door of Abby’s building where he let her pull him to her and
they began to shower each other with kisses as they made their way to her
apartment.
 
At Abby’s door Mitch
dropped his duffel and began to caress her body as she fumbled through her bag
for keys.
 
When the two locks were
finally undone the intertwined couple almost fell through the threshold.
 
Mitch pushed his duffel in with his foot
while Abby pulled the door closed.
 
Abby’s other hand was on Mitch’s collar, pulling down on his shirt over
his arm.
 
Their mouths now locked
deep in a long continuing kiss.

Parts of their clothing flew across
the living room as they moved through, Mitch leaning against the arm of the
couch, then Abby’s back to the wall.
 
All the while they continually caressed each other’s bodies and held
that long undisturbed kiss.

Abby put her lips to Mitch’s neck
and pressed her mouth against him, then whispered in his ear, “This way.”

Quickly Abby stepped away from him,
taking both of his hands, and pulled him to her bedroom.
 
In the dim light of the hallway, her
beauty awed Mitch.
 
Her hair now
down over her shadowed bare breasts, only her panties remained on.
 
Abby’s sultry gaze once again fixed on
him as she backed into the bedroom.
 
Seductively she slowly lowered her hands from his and slipped off her
bottoms, then backed up and slid into the blankets of the bed.
 
She lifted her soft gaze to Mitch
standing in his unzipped jeans.
 
His
stomach barely lit in her darkened bedroom, attractive, trim, and muscular.
 
He kept his gaze fixed to hers still,
and with one thumb eased the jeans down the trunks of his legs.
 
Slowly Mitch approached the bed and Abby
moved over on the sheet to make room for him and opened the blanket to invite
him in.

They had been frantic, and now,
lying naked on the soft sheets of Abby’s bed, they were tender.
 
Mitch leaned forward and kissed her
forehead gently.
 
Her eyes closed, a
tremor shot threw her body from the faintest of kisses, then another light
kiss, and another tremor.
 
Mitch
gave her many tender kisses in many places until Abby could handle no
more.
 
Then they held each other
tightly and fell into the first true sleep for either of them in the past few
nights.

* * *
* *

Before Mitch opened his eyes, he
had a smile on his face.
 
The sweet smell
of Abby on the pillow reminded him that he was not in his own bed.
 
There was another great smell looming in
the air as he awoke as well, coffee, and something else, pancakes.

“Really?” said Mitch in a voice
just loud enough to travel through the apartment.

“You up?” came a reply from the
other room.

Mitch stretched his arms and
started to get up when Abby entered the bedroom.

“No don’t get up,” said Abby.
 
Abby was wearing nothing except Mitch’s
collar shirt and a ponytail and carrying a tray with pancakes and coffee.

Mitch’s eyes lit up, Abby was
incredibly attractive, and the sight of her like this excited him.
 
“That’s amazing.”

“It’s just coffee and pancakes,”
said Abby.
 
She held the tray next
to the bed.

“Are those blueberry pancakes?”

“Yes they are.”

“Put that down.”

“They’ll get cold.”

“They’ll have to wait.”

Abby set the tray on the floor and
as soon as her fingers were free, Mitch pulled her by the waist onto the bed
and gave her a kiss.
 
Abby wrapped her
arms around him and rolled him on his side.
 
Soon the two were once again beneath the
blankets.

After breakfast they decided to go
out to the park and go skating at the pond.
 
Mitch told Abby that he had not brought
his skates and she told him not to worry since the rink rented skates.
 
Mitch could not argue with that so they
bundled up and rolled out of the apartment to go for a walk down to the park.

The snow that blanketed the city
the evening before had already turned to pools and slush.

“There aren’t that many people on
the street,” said Mitch.

“There are never as many as on a
weekday in this neighborhood.
 
Many
people here have country homes and for those that don’t Saturday is not a
workday,” said Abby.

“I guess since I have not lived in
the city in a while that had not crossed my mind.”

“Don’t worry about finding people,
I’m sure there will be plenty in the park.”

When they got to the park Mitch
found that Abby had been correct.
 
The difference between the street outside and the path in the park was
night and day.
 
Everyone that was
going to venture outside on a Saturday was here.

The pathways in the park had
already been cleared and salted and the cement had a soggy odor.
 
Traffic moved at a set pace through the
congested maze of paths as people with children crowded the playgrounds while
others with dogs of all sizes split off to the dog runs.
 
Part of the congestion was due to the
crowd build up at pathway intersections where street performers held court to
park denizens and tourists alike.
 
Mitch and Abby veered around these large groups peeking through to see
acrobats, a cappella groups, and musicians.

While walking down the wide arcade
toward the skating pond, they stopped to listen to an older Asian woman dressed
in dark sweat clothes plucking a long thin lute.
 
Behind her stood one of the mighty elms
of the arcade walkway and other small trees in a field of undisturbed
snow.
 
A hill rose in the back of
the field blocking the view of the pathway behind so that to all of those
watching this woman in the middle of the park, in the center of the city, an
illusion had been created that she stood alone.
 
The woman started to sing a slow sweet
song in her native language.
 
Abby
pulled herself close to Mitch and rested her head on his shoulder.
 
She of course could not understand the
words yet she understood the song.
 
Abby could tell the woman was singing about love and lovers.
 
By the way the song rose with the lute
Abby sensed the love was a new love: so strong, invigorated, perpetual.
 
The woman’s voice went soft again.
 
Her song became what Abby thought might
be an appeal to love threatened.
 
An
appeal that turned in song to defiance, true love is unstoppable.