The Hollow (20 page)

After scooping out the rest of my ice cream, I closed the freezer door and headed to Uncle Bob's office. I laid the papers on his clean desk and then went to join the rest of the family in the main room. We stayed for another hour, and Uncle Bob walked us out to the van when we were ready to leave.

The ride home was quiet, and it passed quickly. I couldn't wait to climb those stairs to my room and finally get to sleep in my own bed for more than one night. All I wanted was to be home and stay there forever.

I didn't even complain about having to cany my own bags up when we finally got there. I happily banged my way up those stairs and threw off my shoes almost as quickly as I dumped open my suitcase. I think I actually felt myself falling to sleep as soon as my head hit the pillow and my body snuggled under the sheets.

God, it was good to be home.

* * *

On Sunday morning I woke up early and couldn't figure out why I had slept so well, until my sleep-induced stupor cleared and I saw that I was in my own bed. I'd never known how much I really loved my bedroom until I had been forced to leave it. I swore it would never happen again. At least, not until next Thanksgiving anyway.

As I stumbled out of bed to get dressed, I waded through the mound of dirty clothing that had exploded from my suitcase, and quickly realized that laundry would have to be number one on my priority list for the day. I sure hoped Mom was up to the task.

Gathering as much as I could carry, I hauled the dirty laundry downstairs, staggering under its weight. I figured that the least I could do was carry it down for her, since she was going to take care of it all. I dropped it off by the washer door and then went to raid the kitchen for some breakfast. Hauling laundry really works up an appetite.

After I inhaled two bowls of cereal, I went back upstairs and slouched over my work desk. I was a little tired, but I didn't feel like going back to bed. I didn't really know what to do.

Shuffling past a few stray papers, I grabbed an old perfume notebook and idly flipped through it. A tiny thought started wiggling at the back of my brain and I kept flipping, not reallyseeing the pages in front of me anymore but thinking about this new, shiny idea forming inside my head.

I got up to grab my perfume case from my overnight bag but stopped short.
Maybe I should go to the cemetery instead Caspian might be waiting for me there,
I thought. And I still hadn't thanked him for the gift.

Pride sparred with common sense, and I debated over just how good the odds were that
this
time I would actually find him. Common sense told me those odds weren't very good. Pride told me that
he
should come find
me.

So I sat back down at the worktable with my perfume case in hand. School started again on Monday, and I could cut through the cemetery on my way home. I would look for him then. All I had to do was make it through today.

I forced myself to focus on one of my unfinished perfume projects, and it was a growling stomach that finally broke through my concentration. I pushed my notes and bottles away as I stood up to stretch my legs. Wandering downstairs for a snack, I was just crossing into the kitchen when Mom called my name.

Yelling back that I was busy, I searched the fridge for something edible. All I came across were leftovers and lunch meat. Why couldn't I find anything to eat? We
never
had any food in the house. I was standing in front of the pantry when she called my name again, this time more insistently. Grabbing a bag of chips withone hand and a bag of pretzels with the other, I stomped my way into the living room.

"Busy, Mom, on my way upstairs. No time to talk."

She was sitting on the couch with her laptop propped up beside her, but she paused for a moment and looked up. "You have a phone call, Abbey."

"Who is it?" I asked, dropping my snacks onto the nearest chair and running over to pick up the phone.

"It's Uncle Bob."

My finger paused on the TALK button. "Uncle Bob?" I croaked. "Did he, uh, say, at all, why he wanted to talk to me?"

She shrugged, paying more attention to her screen than me. "Don't know. He just asked if you were available."

I swallowed down my fear, counted to ten, and pushed the button. "Hello? Uncle Bob?"

His booming voice echoed loudly through the receiver, and I held it about an inch away from my ear. "Hi, Abbey. How's it going for you?"

"Fine, Uncle Bob. It's going fine for me. How's it going for you?"

"Good, good," he boomed. "Listen, Abbey, I was calling to ask you something. I hope you won't mind. Well, I guess you won't mind, maybe, if I thought right."

Sometimes followina Uncle Bob's train of thouaht was easiersaid than done. It was a trait that everyone around me seemed to pick up sooner or later.

I furrowed my brow. "What is it, Uncle Bob? What did you want to ask me?"

"Well, see, it was about my office. I couldn't help but notice what you did in there-"

My heart sank to my feet.
Oh, no. Here it comes.
He was probably calling because I'd moved something important and now he couldn't find it.

"Look, Uncle Bob," I interrupted. "I'm really sorry about that. I just thought you would like it. I can come by and… I don't know… try to put it back somehow?" Yeah right, like I could put back dust and grime.
Way to go, Abbey. Good move.

"Are you kidding?" Uncle Bob spoke again, loud and clear. "I love it! You did such a great job that I was hoping maybe you would come do it again. Only sort through all the papers and stuff. Maybe even file a little? I would pay you, of course. Like an after-school job. What do you say?"

What did I say?
I was speechless. I thought he was calling to yell at me, and he was offering me a job instead? How cool was that?

My speechlessness didn't go unnoticed.

"Abbey? Are you still there? If you're worried about money, I can pay you ten dollars an hour. How's that?"

I was still completely stunned, but I found my voice. "Urn, yeah, sure, Uncle Bob. That all sounds good to me. When do you want me to start?"

I
think
he asked me if I wanted to start next week. I just kind of made agreeing noises every now and then. I couldn't believe this call was actually happening.

After I hung up the phone, Mom must have noticed the dazed look in my eyes when I grabbed my snacks. "What was
that
all about? Is everything okay with Uncle Bob?" she asked me.

I laughed loudly. "Yeah, it is. Everything's okay. I think… I think he just offered me a job."

Chapter Sixteen

A Visit

… a kind of buzzing stillness reigned throughout the schoolroom.

"The Legend of Sleepy Hollow"

On Monday morning I woke up to snow. As I lay in bed watching the sparkling flakes float down slowly to earth, I snuggled deeper into my warm nest of covers. I really did not want to get out of bed. Maybe I could talk Mom into bringing me some hot chocolate.

I started to doze off again, but Mom's voice jerked me out of my drowsy slumber. I sat straight up, losing the covers briefly, and regretted it instantly, as a shock of icy cold air blasted over me. Shivering, I snatched up the covers again and burrowed back down, ignoring Mom when she called a second time.

It was the banging on the stairs ten minutes later that was too hard to ignore. I rolled out of bed, threw on two sweatshirts and an extra pair of sweatpants over my pajamas, and jammed my feet into a thick pair of socks. I was not happy at the thought of having to leave my warm bed. I ran to the top of the stairs, but Mom was already halfway up them. She didn't look very happy either. "I was just about to come yank you out of bed myself, Abigail."

Oh crap, the full name.

"You only have forty-five minutes to get ready for school, and then I'm leaving."

"Sorry, Mom," I yawned. "I'm up now. Going to get dressed. Could you make me some hot chocolate for breakfast?" I threw a hopeful look over my shoulder, but she was shaking her head and muttering to herself as she started walking back down the stairs. "Okay, scratch that whole hot chocolate idea," I mumbled.

I flew to my bathroom and took a speed shower. I didn't wantto leave the cascading spray of hot water, but I knew that I was running short on time. Grumbling about hot showers and cold mornings, I dried off briskly and ran to my closet. Once there, I grabbed a long black sweater and a pair of red boots that I'd never worn before.

When I made it downstairs, I looked forlornly at the kitchen table, where a mug was sitting, stuffed with an instant hot chocolate packet. Not quite what I'd had in mind, but I guess it's the thought that counts, right? I glanced over at the clock on the oven. Two minutes to go. I didn't have time for hot chocolate of
any
kind. Reaching into one of the cabinets, I grabbed a granola bar and stuffed it in my bag, then snagged an apple from the fridge. I guess it would be breakfast on the run today.

A car horn honked impatiently from the driveway. With breakfast firmly in hand, I juggled my key and quickly locked the front door on my way out.

Ahhh, Mondays. Have to love them.

The snow was beautiful as I stepped outside, and it made a soft crunching noise. I hurried to the car, grateful for its heat, and bit into my apple as we pulled away. The crisp zing inside was tart and delicious, but I mourned the fact that it wasn't warm and soothing… like hot chocolate.

"Do you want me to pick you up after school today? The weather's getting colder." Mom said.

"No, thanks," I replied instantly. I had plans that involved a cemetery and, hopefully, a visit with Caspian. "It's not too cold. Besides, I like walking in the snow."

"Okay. See you when you get home, then."

The car came to a stop and I pushed the door open. Taking one last bite of my apple, I climbed out and waved. "Bye, Mom!"

She smiled as the door slammed shut behind me, and then she sped off. I looked up at the imposing gray structure looming in front of me, hoisted my book bag higher, and reluctantly started trudging toward it.

Where's a blizzard when you need one?

As I made my way into the school hallway, everyone else around me looked like they'd enjoyed climbing out of a nice cozy bed this morning and braving a cold world about as much as I had. Red noses and teary eyes shuffled in, one after the other. Streaks of muddy slush covered the wooden floors, and more than one glove had been abandoned, lost out of a jacket pocket, never to see its mate again.

Considering that this was the last place on earth I wanted to be right now, I felt oddly cheerful in this sea of misery.

The rest of the school day passed like many other school days had passed before it. Midterms were coming up in January right after Christmas break, so all the teachers spent their time explaining whatwe would review over the next couple of weeks.

When the last bell rang for the day, the snow had already stopped. Most of what had been on the ground was gone, with the exception of a few tiny patches that still glistened, tucked away in the shade. Shouts of joy filled the parking lot as the collective school body was finally released from its prison for another day. I slipped away from all the noise and headed toward the cemetery, fervently hoping that Caspian would be there.

Passing by the riverbank, I saw brown flowers at several grave sites while I followed the cemetery pathway. I couldn't tell if the flowers were dead because they had been here too long or if they were dead because of the recent cold snap. Either way, it was sad.

I almost stopped once or twice to get rid of them, but then thought better of it. The families might want to do that themselves. It was a funny thing. Some people wouldn't mind if a complete stranger got rid of the dead flowers on their loved one's grave, while others would be deeply offended.

I chose the least offensive path and moved on, uttering a small "Sorry" to each grave with brown flowers that I left behind.

A familiar hill came into view, and then the small iron fence that marked the Irving family plot. Watching for icy patches, I climbed up the stone steps and pushed my way through the gate. The stacks of coins were still near Washington living's grave, but now a brown glass bottle crudely marked ABSINTHE was lying onits side at the foot of the stone. Someone had also placed a bright red poinsettia on top of his marker that was dangerously close to tipping over. I stepped around the brown bottle and fixed the plant, brushing away stray pieces of dirt.

Crouching down next to the headstone, I traced the worn lettering as I had done so many times before. "Good day to you, Mr. Irving. Nice to see you again." A cold wind blew around me, and I stuck my hands in my pockets, sincerely regretting the fact that I had left my gloves at home. "I hope you had a nice Thanksgiving." I rocked back slightly on my heels. "We spent our entire holiday visiting the relatives. It was terrible."

I looked up at the sky. Grayish clouds were rolling in. Not the kind that meant a thunderstorm was on its way but the kind that meant more snow was on its way. Hopefully many, many feet of snow.

Silence enveloped me, and I shivered again in the cold. I knew I really should get going. It was all too obvious I wasn't going to find Caspian. Maybe I wouldn't ever see him again.

That thought filled me with a piercing ache, and I fought back tears. It had only been two weeks; it was way too soon to give up all hope. I was just being silly and overly dramatic. I bowed my head and waited for the catch in my throat to disappear before I spoke again. "We, um… got some snow today. First snow of the season. It looked beautiful glistening on the ground everywhere.

And someone left a poinsettia for you. Everything else is neat and tidy around here. Nikolas does a good job."

The grating noise of the gate being pushed open surprised me. I twisted around to see what had happened, and slipped. Catching myself before I hit the ground, I looked up.

It was Caspian.

I leapt to my feet, a little too excitedly, and almost ran to him. My
God,
he was gorgeous. Forcing myself to slow down, I silently repeated over and over again that I would
not
jump into his arms. I
would not.