The house was warm and Abby did not hesitate to take her jacket off as she entered the library where she found another note hanging on the curtain entrance to the theater that simply read, ‘IN HERE’.
“What is this?” asked Abby. The theater lights were an amber hue, the aroma of pine and popcorn made a peculiar combination. On a table between two of the cushioned chairs sat a large bucket of popcorn.
Mitch spoke from behind the back wall, “What’s it look like? We’re going to test this baby out. Sit down and I’ll dim the lights.”
“Ok then,” said Abby. She took her seat and set her jacket next to her, as she leaned back the chair went into a reclining position and at the bottom of the seat a footrest quickly shot out. “This is nice.”
Mitch came out from behind the back wall with a bottle of champagne and two flutes in one hand and a remote control in the other.
“What’s back there?” asked Abby.
“A kitchenette and a projection booth. Have some Milk Duds,” said Mitch. Mitch revealed a box under the remote control, “and take these if you will,” he handed her the two champagne flutes. Out of Mitch’s back pocket, he pulled a towel that he wrapped around the neck of the champagne.
“The trick is not to spray this all over the new furniture,” said Mitch. He twisted the top of the towel. ‘POP’, the cork released in his hand and he removed the towel to pour the champagne.
“Well this is class,” said Abby.
“The best way to launch,” said Mitch. He poured the two flutes full of champagne and then sat down in the chair opposite the table from Abby. He lifted the flute to her and toasted, “It’s magic time.”
They tapped their flutes together and Mitch hit the play button on the remote. Immediately the lights of the theater went dark and a projector started behind them. Up in the front of the theater the curtain slid to the side. The screen lit silver, then black, then with trumpets playing the old Warner Brothers shield momentarily filled the screen, backlit in the shades of grey only found in older films. The shield faded and was replaced by a large statue of an ominous black bird.
“You have got to be kidding,” said Abby. The title screen rippled onto the screen, ‘The Maltese Falcon’.
“No I’m not.”
As the rest of the titles faded on and off the screen, Abby started to laugh aloud.
Mitch laughed too, “What?”
“Here’s your art history lesson,” said Abby, quieting herself as the text of the prologue began scrolling up the screen.
“Oh yea, Knight Templar, Golden Falcon, pirates, got it. No truth to any of it, eh?” asked Mitch.
“Nope.”
As Bogart appeared on the screen, they clapped their hands together and cheered through his opening line, “Yea Sweetheart.”
Throughout the movie, they shared comments as each of the shady characters entered and exited the screen. In the middle of the movie when Spade took Cairo’s gun away from him both reached for their champagne flutes in the center of the table between them, as they did their hands brushed against one another. Neither of them pulled their hand away. Abby reached out and lightly began to caress Mitch’s hand. His fingers lightly responded, sending electricity up her arm and into her chest. A couple of times during the film Mitch looked at Abby and thought what a gorgeous woman sat beside him. They let their hands subtly roll within each other until the final scene when Bogart looked at Mary Astor crying in the elevator.
The words ‘The End’ faded on and then off the silver screen. Mitch lifted the remote and turned off the movie, triggering the curtain to close, and the lights to brighten to the amber setting that washed the room before the film.
“Isn’t that a great film?” said Abby.
“All class,” said Mitch, picking up the bottle of champagne to pour, only to see that they had emptied it. “This went quick too.”
Impressed with Mitch, Abby looked into his deep eyes. She lifted her feet up from the footrest and pulled her shins close to her. Mitch thought she looked beautiful crouched in the big cushion chair. Her chestnut hair radiated in the amber light and her eyes were sultry. He realized now that the flaw in the theater was that the big cushion chairs were separated by the coffee tables. She was so very far from him that to make any subtle move in her direction would be impossible. Mitch thought that he saw in her eyes an invitation. He was right. Abby wanted him to kiss her again. Mitch lightly sighed and stood up.
“I should pick this stuff up,” said Mitch. He picked up the two flutes, put them in the hand already holding the neck of the champagne bottle, and then reached for the popcorn bowl. Abby reached over and grabbed his wrist. If Mitch was not going to make the next move than she would.
“Put those down,” said Abby. As soon as Mitch set the flutes aside, Abby pulled him around to the front of her and then slid her arms up around his neck. “This was so sweet of you.”
In Mitch’s eyes, Abby glowed and now he had permission to recapture the sensation of the other night. He put his arms around her and leaned down, lightly pressing his lips to hers. Abby had been waiting for him and pulled him tight to her as she gently kissed him. He tasted sweet from the champagne and she felt like devouring him. The longer they kissed, the more intense they pressed their lips together.
Abby’s whole body filled with adrenaline. She had to have him closer. She attempted to bring him into the chair. He could feel adrenaline rushing through him as well. This was not why he had asked her here yet he was compelled to lean forward by her unsaid invitation. Abby locked her eyes to his. His fingers caressed her forearms, his hands moving into hers. He knelt on the floor and eased her off the chair. She knelt beside him and they drew together in a tight embrace. Abby’s body shivered as Mitch ran his fingers down the center of her back. He then kissed her ear and the nape of her neck, sucking gently with several soft kisses down to her shoulder. With these wonderful kisses, Abby tilted her head back and closed her eyes. She clasped tightly to his upper back where she could feel the muscles below his shoulder blades moving in unison with the massaging of his hand upon her breast. To him she felt delicate and to her he felt so strong. She grabbed his head with both of her hands and let her fingers work through his hair. She pulled her face across his lips, letting him cover her in kisses, until her lips were upon his. They eased down to the carpeted floor and went with their passions.
* * * * *
Chapter 30
“Let me get this place straightened up and we can get out of here,” said Mitch. Abby thought he sounded like he was apologizing. Abby said nothing, relaxed her hands, and let Mitch’s hands slip away. He raised his eyebrows before he looked away, an unspoken request for understanding.
Mitch took the bottle and popcorn bowl back to the kitchenette. Abby stretched her arms high above her head. The movement of blood through her body had sobered, cooled from the moment before. She rose to the cushioned chair and stretched again.
“I was thinking we could walk off some of this popcorn,” said Mitch from the back room. “Sounds great,” said Abby. She was glad he had brought up the idea. Their time together had her reeling inside and she needed to displace the energy trapped inside of her.
The two cleaned up silently, afraid to ignite more sparks while still inside. After shutting down the theater, they stepped out the foyer to the double oak doors then into the crispness of the winter afternoon. Mitch suggested a walk down to the lake so Abby took the lead down the driveway. They each had both hands in their coat pockets.
There was no discernible sun. Bright white cumulous clouds filled the sky trading light with the snow-covered ground. When they rounded the bend of the driveway they could see across the lake. Cars moved along the ice road and the lake was dotted with quad runners and snowmobiles.
At the bottom of the drive, they crossed Willow Lake road and Mitch launched himself over the snow bank onto a large rock among the field of rocks on the waters edge of South Cove. Once there he reached down to Abby and he
lped her up. They walked on the rocks, hopping from one to the other, skirting the shore as they went. When they came to a boulder that jutted out into the ice like a cliff edge they walked to the end and stood.
They had been silent on their trek over the rocks and were silent now. Mitch looked across the lake at the shanties and snowmobiles scurrying between them and then over to Abby. She too peered out in the direction of the lake yet he could tell that whatever she was seeing was not on the ice, or anywhere in front of her, at least not now.
“What do you see?” asked Mitch.
“It really doesn’t change,” said Abby.
“I suppose not,” Mitch assumed Abby referred to the vista. “People have been doing the same things out here for years.”
“Not that,” said Abby, “the cove itself.”
“What do you mean?”
“I have imagined this cove a lot over the years. Sometimes this place is lit up, most of the time it’s menacing, ugly,” Abby lowered her chin and looked down at the boulder they were standing on. “When I think of this place, there are a lot of ghosts. Now that I am standing out here, it’s the same as it ever was. Like nothing has ever taken place out here. There are no ghosts.”
“Ghosts are only where we put them,” said Mitch. He now remembered, “Your brother, Michael, this is where he had his accident, where he died.”
“Twelve years ago Michael’s jeep hit a tree over there somewhere,” Abby pointed across the road, “and then into the rocks.” Her hand dropped an inch as her voice trailed off.
“I’m sorry,” said Mitch.
“Don’t be, he was drunk. It was a long time ago,” said Abby. “It’s ironic though.”
“What is?” asked Mitch.
“We had a lot of good times out here when we were kids. We played on this very spot.”
“Right here, eh?”
“Yea,” Abby lifted her foot and stepped back down on the boulder, “My brother and I used to fish down here. The fishing isn’t bad by the rocks.”
“I can’t quite picture you fishing.”
“Oh yea. I was a bit of a tomboy, and quite a fisherman. This was our secret fishing spot.”
“Well it can’t be that secret. I’m sure everyone on the lake knows about it.”
“Don’t be so sure,” said Abby. “If word got out, South Cove could be overrun.”
“Well, your secret is safe with me.”
“How do I know that?” Abby felt playful, “How do I know you won’t go marching into the village and tell everyone? Or worse, if word got to the city.”
“Well, you can rest assured that I won’t be going to the city. That’s the last place I need to be.”
“What do you mean, the last place? That’s the second time you said that. I didn’t think you were serious before when you said you never went to the city. Are you hiding out or something?”
“Deep cover.”
“Like witness protection?”
“Something like that.”
“How very interesting,” said Abby. “You are going to at least come visit me aren’t you?”
“The farthest I go from the village is Fremont, I like it out here where it’s peaceful.”
“I thought maybe we would meet up at O’Malley’s after a day in the museum. You said you liked that bar.”
“I do, I mean I did… I do,” Mitch was confusing Abby. Mitch suddenly was serious. “I just don’t do the city anymore. There is a reason I am out here,” said Mitch, “your cousin did me a big favor bringing me here. At a time when I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”
“I know the two of you knew each other from college. You weren’t a couple, I would have known.”
“No, nothing like that. But we were close. And when I needed some help, after college, she was there.”
“What kind of help?” Abby could tell that Mitch was trying to say something and the words were not coming.
Two birds flew overhead, one chasing the other. Mitch had both hands in his pockets again. He turned toward the lake, toward the trees away from Abby, and then back again.
“After college,” said Mitch, “I spread myself a little thin. I told you about going to Prague. Well, I never really got my head together when I came back. I went to work in the city at a job that I couldn’t stand. Had an apartment and did all of the stuff you’re supposed to, but nothing was adding up.”
“That sounds like a lot of people,” said Abby.
“I suppose. Maybe I was just going out too much, but it all started falling apart. That’s when Caroline told me to come out here. After that, everything fell into place. I just don’t have a need to go back to the city. To complicate my life any more than it needs to be.”
Mitch had calmness when he spoke that told Abby he believed that things were simpler here. She certainly did not. Perhaps Mitch needed an excuse to push everyone away, to push her away.
“Give me the city,” said Abby. “Willow Lake is a neat little package for you, for me it’s a large piece of luggage.”
“That’s fair,” said Mitch, “if it’s true, but maybe it’s not Willow Lake that has all of that weight.”
Abby put her hand on Mitch’s shoulder and said, “Maybe it’s not the city that you are hiding from out here.”
“Who says I’m hiding?” said Mitch.
“Well, if what you’re saying is places are what you make them, then you have made this an oasis for yourself and that’s great. The world is still out there though. I’m not hiding from it. I’m avoiding it. It’s different.”
“Avoiding it, or running away from it?” asked Mitch.
“Semantics,” said Abby as she turned back toward the house. “I’m getting cold and I need to get back. Will needs his truck this afternoon.”
They silently made their way back over the rocks and across Willow Lake road. When they started back up the drive, both had their hands free and Mitch reached over to take Abby’s. She let her fingers slip into his. For a few moments she had been annoyed with Mitch yet as soon as she felt his thumb caress the back of her hand she melted. A warm sensation cycled through her body.
Abby felt that her body betrayed her by wanting to be with Mitch. She was not sure as to why he had more than once pointed out his distaste for the city. She wondered if there was more to why he had come out to the lake. She needed to sort out her feelings for Mitch and why his situation bothered her so much. Caroline would tell her what Mitch would not.
When they got back to the pickup truck, Mitch opened the door for Abby and she pulled her hand away. Where speaking had come easy before now things seemed awkward. They searched for words to fill the space where simply saying goodbye would do. Abby wanted to kiss him and pull him into the truck. At the same time, she wanted to just go. She felt that if she could just separate herself from him the building urges would calm.
Mitch wanted to say something grand or poetic. He wanted to reach out to Abby and hold her. Subconsciously he defeated himself, not even able to utter a word much less anything that would reflect the significance of his feelings.
The two were like school children, neither knew what to say, and the urges did not seem right no matter how strong. So Mitch just said he would see Abby later, and she said, “ok.” Mitch stood in the drive as Abby turned the truck around and they politely waved to each other before she drove away.
* * * * *
Chapter 31
The light of the afternoon sun filtered through the pines and maples along the road. The truck was old yet the heater had a strong fan that blew out toasty heat and the FM radio worked well. A woman singing filled the truck with a song about someone treating her wrong, yet the words were lost on Abby. She tapped to the music as her mind raced from Mitch to Will. Abby had decided to take her time to get to the village. She drove around Mount Frisia before heading north around the lake.
The awkwardness of Abby’s departure from Mitch was not lost on her and the thought crossed her mind that maybe she should t
ake this as a sign and cool her urges a bit. She had been spending a lot of time thinking about Mitch lately and perhaps subconsciously she was sublimating her actions with Mitch in preference to dealing with Will. Perhaps she should not be thinking about Mitch at all. A list of questions went through her head. What point was there to thinking about Mitch? If he did not want to go to the city, ever, and she did not want to stay out here, how could they ever make anything work? Was there an anything? Abby asked herself if she had been reading too much into their time together. If so, how was she defining that time? How was she defining that relationship? Those were really the cards on the table after all. They were each holding a hand at the same table in the same game. There was a relationship between them and the more she thought the less she could deny. A relationship was not something she was looking for yet she had found one just the same. Now she was unsure of what that relationship was.
The afternoon with Mitch went so well then ended so awkwardly. The movie was fun and what followed was passionate. Then things started to become not quite right. Mitch had certainly been into her. By the lake, Abby felt Mitch had become distant. Did he become distant because of her? Abby replayed the events in her mind. Was she pushing him away? Why had he been making advances and then, well then nothing. He had put together the movie with popcorn and champagne. Champagne, Abby thought that must mean something. The signals that Mitch sent to her were now confusing her the more she thought about them.
Abby picked up her cell phone to call Caroline so that she could unload all of the thoughts racing around her head. The cell had hardly any battery because Abby had not thought to charge the phone since she had been on the lake. Unsure the signal would be strong enough to let her dial out while she was driving, Abby pulled the truck over to the side of the road and dialed. Caroline picked up and Abby told her that she needed to see her. She could not say much more because the phone connection was weak. Once Abby told Caroline that she wanted to speak about Mitch, Caroline said to come right over. Abby told her that she was literally on the other side of the lake. So, the two decided to meet at the Stone tavern.
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