Chapter 08

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“You remember Mitch?”

“Of course.  I’m old, not senile.  Hey there Mitch.”

“Hey there, Will,” Mitch replied.  “You need help cleaning up?”

“No,” said Will, his voice calm and softer.  “No, you kids go ahead.”

Mitch turned to Abby.

“I should probably get going anyway,” said Mitch.

“Thank you for bringing the skates by,” said Abby then quickly added, “And thank you for the conversation.  It was nice.”

“Me too, I mean thank you for the tea, and the conversation,” said Mitch.

Mitch turned and walked out the doorway.  “What a girl,” he thought as he made his way to his yellow pickup.  The conversation really had been refreshing and Mitch felt that he had connected with someone in a way he had not in a long time.  As Mitch got into the truck a smile crept across his face.  Abby was waving good-bye from the door of the studio.  Mitch waved to Abby, backed his truck out of the driveway, and kept smiling.

Abby walked back into the studio and discovered her father still on the floor.  Will had not moved from his kneeling position.  Walking over to the side room to grab a broom she said, “I don’t remember the last time I saw you smash an urn.  I’ve seen you repair worse.”

“Well I dropped it.  Is that what you want to hear?  Damn, it’s not the first time I dropped a piece of damn clay.”

“Colorful language,” said Abby as she started to sweep up the remnants of the urn strewn across the room.  “I bet you can’t even get up.”

“I can get up.”

Will lifted himself from the floor hobbling a little on his right leg as he did.

Abby walked toward him, “Let me help you.”

“I don’t need help!”

“I think that is exactly what you need.”

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