Chapter 14

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They went through the foyer to the porch and looked out the window to the circular end of the drive.

“Step out the door and look to the side,” said Mitch.

Abby did and saw on either side of the double oak doors two four-foot high, three-foot circular urns with embossed ivy decoration.

“I think they’re Bellen’s,” said Mitch.

“They seem to be close, but I have never seen this design before.  I wish we could see the mark on the bottom.”

“Unfortunately they weigh half a ton.  We’re going to move them inside later, we’ll take a look then.”

“I can’t wait to see,” said Abby.  Mitch and Abby went back inside.

They went to the kitchen where Mitch filled an electric kettle with water and then put the plug into a wall socket next to the stainless steel stove.  From his lunch pail Mitch produced milk from a short blue thermos and even some honey.

“You were pretty sure I was going to stop by,” said Abby.

“Not in the least.”

“I hope you aren’t trying to impress me.”

“Well, yeah.”

“Good job then.”

Mitch put out two ceramic mugs and a box of Earl Grey.  “So you must think of Willow Lake pretty nostalgically.  I mean you grew up here and everything but it has to be pretty far removed from where you are.”

“It’s removed alright.”

“How are things in the city?”

“Things are fine, the job is good,” said Abby.  “It’s not here.”

Mitch raised his brow.  “This back-water you mean?”

“Yeah, that’s what I mean,” said Abby.  “No of course that’s not what I mean.  I mean it isn’t here.  Simply that.  Here everybody knows you.  Your not from here, I am.  Everybody knows my business, my past.  There, I blend.  I get to choose who I want to be, how I want to be.  I don’t get that here.”

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