1930s: Abigail contemplates her life

In Willow Creek, life trudges on. William is working hard at the law firm, Amanda takes care of the household, and Abigail... feels lost. She's more tired than she used to be, moves more slowly, has a harder time going up and down the stairs and miss her daughters and grandchildren more than she wants to admit.

She had hoped that William, by now, would have children of his own, but she's learned not to ask. Not after last time when Amanda so obviously upset had to leave the room. It's not unheard of, having difficulties, Abigail suppose. But it is a shame. Amanda would make a good mother and it would breathe life into the house once more. It's so empty these days.

She visits the graveyard a lot. Talks to Joseph and tends to his grave. Visit their grandchildren. Reads. Knits. Take walks. She wishes she had more things to do. She misses Joseph most of all.

 



The news of Victoria Duncan's passage hit her harder than she thought, as did the news of her Edward Duncan's just a few months later as well. It's not that she had a great fondness for the Duncans, but they were the last two of her generation of people in Willow Creek. Of all the friends she had, Christine Bradshaw, Ashley Dougherty, the Sullivans... none are left. Only her. The old charity club has been taken over by others such as Emily and Ida, the reverends have come and gone. There is a new one again now. She can barely remember his name.

When she return home from the graveyard today, Amanda and William are playing chess while dinner is getting ready. Abigail could of course cook more, she's better at it than Amanda, but Amanda wants to do it, so she lets her. She sits down and knits some, leaving the young people to their own devices until dinner time.




After dinner, Abigail is surprised when William wants to talk to her alone. "I've been offered a new job," he tells her. "In San Sequoia."
"What on earth would you do there, you know no one there!" Abigail protests, but William just shrugs.
"It's closer to my sisters than here, and besides, I can't stay here indefinitely either. Dad made sure of that with his will."
Abigail studies her son. "You want to leave."
William nods. "But only if you want to come."
"Me? I'm too old to move, I'll just stay."
"Mom, you can't. You can't take care of the house on your own, or everything else. You just don't have the physique for it, or the energy. I can't just leave you here and hope for the best."

And that's when it dawns on Abigail, that not only does her son wants to leave, he feels she is a burden. Not a help, not a companion, but someone to take care of. Abigail certainly does not like that idea.

"Think about it, mom. We could set up the library according to dad's wishes together and then move. You'd be closer to Josephine and the kids."
"It's not exactly around the corner." It's not as if she can drive one of those new cars. She sighs. "I'll think about it."

The next morning she takes a long walk around town, only to notice how often she needs to stop and rest. Maybe she is getting old? She walks over to Ida's house, and sees her stepdaughter, who as always is happy to see her.
"Don't you think the house is empty now when the kids are all married and moved out?" she asks Ida, but she just smiles.
"Melanie is literary on the other side of the road, it's not like I don't see her and the kids all the time."

Abigail nods, then shares her news. "Should I go with them? I don't want to stand in William's way, but I hate being a burden."
"So why not come here?" Ida asks. "There is plenty of room. In fact you can all come, until the library is done. And who better to oversee the transformation than you? You must know best what father would have wanted. And what you want, after all you were a teacher once."
"I suppose you are right. Joseph wouldn't have considered a children's section. Somewhere children can learn, and browse books on their own, become independent readers."
"See! You're already planning it aren't you? Let me show you were you could stay in the meantime. And if you don't want to go to San Sequoia, then you just stay as long as you want."
"Nathaniel won't mind?"
"His mother lived in this house for years and years. I'm sure he'll have nothing to complain about."

Over the next few weeks, the house in the Crawdad Quarter undergoes a massive transformation. It starts with Abigail removing things she cares about, and the packing up of every they want to bring with them. Soon the house is more boxes than things, and above all books, piles of them. On the floor, on tables, the living room is overflowing as they all help to read through and consider what they want to take with them, and what stays in the library.

Once they've decided on which books to bring with them and which to donate and they've all their belongings are either shipped off to San Sequoia or delivered to Ida and Nathaniel. Nothing is left intact, not even the kitchen. Abigail, Amanda and William all oversee the transformation as walls are torn down, moved or painted to accommodate the new interior of the library.



Abigail especially oversees the construction of the children's wing, having read up on all the latest research on the area. She's especially inspired by the work and writing of Anne Carroll Moore, the superintendent of the Department of Work with Children at the New York Public Library, whose ideas on how to create welcoming library spaces for children she copies almost entirely.

When the entire library is finished, Abigail can't help but to feel a sense of purpose again, a sense of completion and pride. Walking through the rooms that has so long been her home, she loves what she sees. "We did good, Joseph," she whispers to herself before entering into the children's section, ready for a reading session with several eager kids.





(The library, for anyone who is interested, can be found on the gallery)