The Potter's Daughter (Literary Series) Read Online Free Page B

wrapped in sliced ham.   Abby
picked up a small plate and fork and allowed herself to become distracted.
    Especially enjoyable were the
meatballs, they were downright addictive.   Lightly grilled in the ginger teriyaki sauce they tasted like candy.
    “They’re delicious right?” said
Mitch.   He had walked up to Abby
from the side and she had not seen him.   Abby cleared her throat with a drink of wine.
    “They are.   I’m drowning my sorrows in them,” said
Abby.
    “Everything all right outside?”
asked Mitch.
    “It’s all trouble you don’t want
any part of,” said Abby.
    Mitch raised his beer up to his
chest, cocked his eyebrow, and with a comical Bogart impression said, “I don’t
mind a reasonable amount of trouble.”
    “Sam Spade, nice,” said Abby.
    “When I was a boy I wanted to be
Sam Spade,” said Mitch.   “As far as
I was concerned being a private detective was top of the heap.   Do you like Sam Spade?”
    “What curator wouldn’t be intrigued
by a golden falcon encrusted from beak to claw with rare jewels created by the
Knight Templar of Malta in 1539?”
    “Touché,” said Mitch.
    “Plus there’s Sam Spade, that’s one
of my favorite movies of all time.”
    “Cheers,” said Mitch.   “Cheers,” said Abby.
    “Is the real Maltese Falcon in a
museum somewhere?” asked Mitch.
    “Not at all,” said Abby, “but it
was based on a real sculpture called the Kniphausen Hawk made in 1697.   No romantic story like the Maltese
Falcon, but it was still covered in jewels.”
    “I’d rather have a good story over
the jewels,” said Mitch.
    “Agreed,” said Abby.
    Mitch finished his beer.   “Can I get you another glass of wine?”
    “I would love one.   However, after seeing that parking
fiasco I’m pretty sure I’m on driving duty,” said Abby.
    Across the room, Mitch and Abby
could see Will’s face glowing as he was describing something to the
Lumsdens’.   In an exaggerated
gesture Will was making a large circle with his hands from above his head to
his waist and then from his chest to the extent of his arms, all the time
holding a three quarter full wine glass.   His eyes were fixing to and from Hank and Mary Lumsden’s faces to judge their reaction.   Either they were totally enthralled by the story or waiting for the red
wine to come jetting out of the glass straight into there faces.
    “So you’re driving him home?” asked
Mitch.
    “I think it’s best,” said Abby.
    Trying yet again to use the voice
of Bogart, Mitch said, “You’re a good man, sister.”   Abby answered with her own Bogart
impression, “Don’t be too sure, I’m as crooked as I’m supposed to be.”
     
    * * *
* *
     
     

Chapter 7
    The buckwheat batter sizzled into
perfect round circles upon the hot skillet.   Caroline always made perfectly round
pancakes.   As a child, her parents
took the family to the Lakeside Diner every Sunday after church.   The cook used the skillet to flip the
cakes way up in the air astonishing all of the wide-eyed children in for Sunday
breakfast.   She had to use a spatula
to flip them, which frustrated her just a little.   Every time Caroline had tried to flip
pancakes with the skillet, they ended up hanging off the edge of the pan or
landed on the stove.
    The twins were singing along with a
man in an animal suit on the television when Caroline called to them to get
ready for breakfast.   Their song
switched from the sing along to an assailing yell as they ran toward the
kitchen to reap the strawberry jam and maple syrup that would be covering the
silver dollar pancakes their mother had made for them.
    Andrew and Lily climbed onto the
stools at the island counter and, paying no attention to their small forks,
began eating the little stacks on their plates.
    “Pancakes, how yummy!” said Mitch
as he walked into the kitchen with Brian.
    “Have some.   There’s plenty,” said Caroline.   She handed Mitch a small plate and
gestured toward the