The Hollow (25 page)

I was finally free for the holidays and ready for the relaxation to begin.

Over the next three days I slept in till noon, made dozens and dozens of cookies with Mom, and drank hot chocolate by the gallon. It was completely blissful.

Christmas Eve came before I knew it, and I spent most of the morning helping Mom box up cookies for all of our extended family members. Which probably explained why Mom always went a little cookie crazy every year. We had a
lot
of relatives.

After we finished packaging the last of them up, I went to my room to wrap some presents of my own. The name-a-star certificatehad arrived just in time, and I was thrilled to see that it came in a beautiful black frame. I added a little bit of gift wrap and a red bow and had it finished in no time. Next up were Mom's and Dad's gifts, and they didn't take very long to wrap either.

I dug deep into my creative side to find a unique way to wrap Caspian's gifts. After finding some dark blue wrapping paper, and adding some strategically placed tiny silver star stickers, I drew on a couple of swirling designs with a gray marker. The result was perfect.

Trying to find a red pen to write his name with, I dug around in my perfume supply box. I stopped for a minute when my eyes landed on the sample I'd made for Kristen. Uncapping the blue glass bottle, I poured a tiny amount into a tester vial and added it to the present pile.

I couldn't forget my best friend.

Once that task was complete, and I had found the red pen, my thoughts wandered back to the cemetery. I struggled with the decision of whether or not to go there, while I absentmindedly wrote names on each present. It
was
Christmas, after all. And it didn't really matter who said what, as long as everything was okay between us.

Indecision had me chewing my lip with worry, so I decided to distract myself with more cookies. Cookies had always worked before, and hopefully, they wouldn't let me down now.

I went downstairs to the kitchen and threw myself into the process of making another batch, but soon realized that being arm-deep in cookie dough left my mind plenty of time to wander and worry. Utterly disgusted with myself, and feeling extremely dejected, I gave up on the cookies, put the dough in the refrigerator, and trudged back up to my room to think about what I should do.

Then the perfect excuse hit me. Presents for Nikolas and Katy.

I knew instinctively what Katy would love, and I dug through my perfumes, impatiently looking for a scent that I hadn't used before. I came to an older mix, and after a quick check on the description label, I unscrewed the lid and took a deep whiff.

The scent, with hints of violet and honeysuckle, had been sitting for over a year and had aged very well. It was almost old-fashioned-smelling, and I knew right away that it was the perfect one to give to her. Then I sat back and pondered what to do for Nikolas.

I wasn't entirely sure that he would enjoy getting perfume as a Christmas gift. Plus, I didn't want him to get the wrong idea and think that I was giving him the hint that he needed a new scent. The smell of fresh cookies still lingered on the air, and it distracted me as I inhaled appreciatively.

Inspiration hit again, and I headed back downstairs. Just as I knew that Katy would love the perfume, I knew that Nikolas would love some freshly baked cookies. Choosing from the selection ofgingerbread, snickerdoodle, and Russian thumbprint cookies Mom and I had made earlier, I put them all into a brightly colored round tin. When it was stuffed full, I snapped the lid shut and added a bow.

It was time to play Santa.

I navigated the streets outside carefully, trying to avoid any patches of hidden ice. The snow was still falling, and a fine film stuck wetly to the ground. I slipped and slid every now and then, but I successfully managed not to drop my bag of loot along the way. It didn't take me long to get across town, and the Maxwells' house soon came into sight.

I stepped cautiously up the narrow stairs and stomped my feet once I'd reached the landing. There had always been a slight gap in the sheer white curtains that covered the front window overlooking the porch, and I peeked through it as I sat my bag down on a dry spot.

Both of the Maxwells were sitting on a small couch, and they appeared to be in deep conversation. I watched as Mr. M. gestured wildly with his hands while Mrs. M. shook her head. When I peered closer, I could see that her eyes were red, and she had a bunched-up tissue in her hand. Obviously this was not the best time to interrupt.

Quietly I dug into my present bag and withdrew their gift. Fluffing out the edges of the slightly crushed bow, I looked aroundfor the safest spot to put it. The door frame caught my eye. It was large, deep, and dry.

I wedged the present in so that it sat propped at an angle, and readjusted it once or twice before knocking softly on the door. Even if they didn't answer right away, I knew they would find it sooner or later. Picking up my bag and giving a final glance over my shoulder, I crept off the porch and headed toward the cemetery. On to my next destination.

I pulled my coat tighter around me as I walked, feeling the sting of the biting snow. I didn't realize how much of a difference it had made standing under a covered porch for those couple of minutes. It
was freezing
out here.

Instead of turning back, though, I trudged on, gripping my bag tightly. When I came to the large cemetery gates, I picked up my pace. I still had quite a walk in front of me, and the weather was getting worse. Taking the main path, I made my way past the Irving grave site and went farther on to the other side of the cemetery. The route was still fresh in my mind, and I followed the winding road, making several turns when I needed to.

With the cold breath of winter in the air, the forest around me was gray and ominous. There weren't any birds out this time, and most of the plants had withered away. It all looked so barren and empty; it was a vast difference from the last time I'd been here.

I turned my eyes ahead, continuing down the path in front ofme. I couldn't afford to stop now. Stuck in a snowstorm was
not
somewhere I wanted to be.

Spotting the large stone chimney, I ran the rest of the way and knocked loudly when I reached the front door. It swung open immediately, and Nikolas stood there looking concerned, with Katy by his side.

Their eyes lit up when they saw it was me, and they tried to wave me in, but I put up a hand. "I can't stay long. I just wanted to wish you guys a Merry Christmas and give you these." I pulled their gifts from my bag and thrust them into their hands.

A huge grin broke out on Nikolas's face as he passed the perfume back to Katy. She held the bottle up to the faint light behind her and examined it eagerly.

"It's perfume," I explained. "Remember I told you that I make perfume? This scent is for you, Katy. You just unscrew the top and hold your finger over it while tilting it upside down. That's how you get some out."

She unscrewed the lid and did as I'd instructed, then held her finger up to her nose to smell. "It's wonderful!" she exclaimed, a look of pure delight on her face. "I smell honeysuckle vines and wild violets. Two of my favorite things. You have quite a talent, Abbey. Thank you very much for my beautiful gift."

I nodded, impressed with her ability to pick out the individual scents.

Nikolas quickly turned the attention to his gift, by loudly popping off the tin top. Katy and I laughed at the expression of glee on his face when he saw what was inside. "Cookies! Did you, by chance, happen to make any of these, Abbey?"

I nodded again, in response to his question. "Yeah, I helped make them."

"They look delicious. Thank you, Abbey. It means even more to me knowing that you have put your time and attention into them."

I blushed, overcome by their words of praise. "It was nothing. Really. You've both been so nice to me that I just wanted to give you a small token of my thanks."

"Why don't you come in and warm up for a while?" suggested Katy. "I'll make us some tea."

I shook my head regretfully. "I'd love to, but I can't. I have one more stop to make, and then I have to get home for dinner. In fact, I'd better be on my way."

Katy leaned forward to give me a quick hug. "All right, dear. But come see us again for a visit after Christmas, okay? We have much to talk about."

"Okay." Nikolas stepped forward to give me a side hug, and I got lost for a moment in a memory of my grandfather and his bear hugs. I squeezed Nikolas tight, wishing even as I let him go that he was my grandpa. That would be a nice Christmas gift.

Katy disappeared for a minute and then returned. She had a small bundle in her hands. "I almost forgot. This is for you, dear. We weren't sure when we would see you again, so we've been holding on to it. Merry Christmas."

I accepted the bundle she held out to me and tucked it safely into my bag. "Thank you. Thank you both. And Merry Christmas to you, too. I'll definitely be back to see you after Christmas. Save some peppermint tea for me."

They laughed and waved as I started down the path that led away from their house. I threw one last grin over my shoulder and called out "Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!" but the wind tore my words away and scattered them to the trees around me. Looking up at the ever darkening sky, I hunkered into my coat, and set off to find my way back to the cemetery.

I was almost out of time.

When I finally made it back to the trail, I followed it until it brought me to a familiar tombstone, and I stopped short, struck again by the vivid reminder that my best friend was dead.

I grabbed Kristen's perfume vial, and then dropped my bag to the ground. Uncorking the vial, I held it carefully, trying not to spill any. Then I carried it over and knelt directly in front of the tombstone. I brushed away some snow caught in the etched lettering carved onto its surface before I spoke. "Hey, Kris, Merry Christmas Eve. I brought you a present." Dumping the perfumeonto the frozen ground, I watched it slowly eat through a thin layer of snow and ice.

The sweet scent of grapefruit, ginger, and vanilla rose up around me. "I have to go now," I said, "but I wanted to let you know that your mom and dad won't be alone on Christmas. They've agreed to come over for dinner. Oh, and I gave them their gift already. I had a star named for you."

I tucked the now empty vial near some fake flowers at the foot of her tombstone then stood up. "Bye, Kristen. See you tomorrow. I won't forget our tradition."

The wind roared again, and I turned away, stooping to pick up my bag as I went. The fastest way out of the cemetery was to pass the Irving family plot, so I chose that way, sneaking a quick peek as I walked by.

I noticed immediately that the metal gate was open, and wedged with a large rock to keep it in place. I climbed up the stairs, intrigued as to who would have left the gate that way. A quick scan of the enclosed area revealed that it hadn't been done by anyone intent on vandalizing the graves. Nothing was disturbed.

Instead, it appeared to have been done for
me…

A long, flat box was propped up next to Washington living's grave, and my name was boldly scrawled on it. Or rather, as I could tell when I got closer, my nickname was scrawled on it.

A bittersweet pang struck my heart while I gazed around me.

The package had definitely not been here when I'd passed by earlier. It must have been dropped off while I was at the cottage. Apparently the giver had decided not to stick around, though, because he was nowhere in sight.

Scooping it up, I shook off some snow and held it reverently. The words do not open till CHRISTMAS were written in big block letters under the name
Astrid,
with several stern exclamation points. I smiled and looked around me again before withdrawing Caspian's gifts from my bag.

Unwinding the long black scarf from my neck, I used that as an extra layer of protection for Caspian's small pile. I had no idea how long it would be before he found them, but I hoped they wouldn't get too wet. Placing them in exactly the same spot as he'd placed mine, I kissed one fingertip and touched it to the pile. If I didn't get to see him at all for Christmas, then this would have to be my silent message to him.

The cold snow started settling rapidly on my bare neck and quickly reminded me of where I was, so I tucked the gift from him into my bag and stepped away from the grave. "Merry Christmas, Caspian," I whispered to the wind. "I love you."

Chapter Twenty-one

A Tradition

If ever I should wish for a retreat, whither I might steal from the world and its distractions… I know of none more promising than this little valley.

"The Legend of Sleepy Hollow"

The snow made a cold companion while I hurried home. Dinner was beef stew with freshly baked bread, and it smelled heavenly. Mom and Dad seemed to be just as distracted as I was, and we all shuffled along one by one into the kitchen, where we filled up a soup mug and then wandered off to our own little corners. It was obviously a buffet night.

I carried my dinner and my bounty up to my room, eager to look at my gifts. The stew was still way too hot, so I set it down on the desk and put the bag of presents on my bed. I shrugged out of the wet jacket I still had on, hung it up on the back of my door, and kicked my soggy shoes off. After finding a warm pair of sweatpants and a long sleeve T-shirt, I was dry once again and quickly settled in.

Picking up Caspian's gift, and then the one from Nikolas and Katy, I laid them side by side and sank down onto the bed to look them over. Caspian's was hard to inspect because all I could see from the outside was just a plain brown box. The warning to wait until Christmas ate at my conscience, and I glanced at the clock. Four and a half more hours to go until midnight…

Technically,
if I waited till then, it would be Christmas morning and I could open it without violating the rules. It was a minor technicality, but it worked for me. I pushed Caspian's gift off to the side and distracted myself with Nikolas and Katy's bundle. At least I could open one gift early.

The bundle turned out to actually be some type of long red quilted material, and once I started unwinding it, the package inside got smaller and smaller. A beautiful china teacup was revealed when I pulled away the last of the fabric. It was small and dainty, with a fluted edge and handle, both rimmed in gold leafing. Tiny pink roses were scattered over the surface, and it looked like each one had been painted on by hand.

I picked it up and admired it from every angle. There appeared to be something stuffed inside the cup, so I tipped it over onto the bed. A smaller bunch of red material, a piece of wood, and a sheet of paper all came fluttering out. I examined the paper first, grinning excitedly when I saw a recipe for peppermint tea was handwritten on it. It touched my heart that they had put so much evident thought into this gift. They couldn't have picked anything more perfect to give me.

The small bundle of cloth was next, and I held it up and stretched it out a bit. I could tell immediately that it was a pair of knitted red gloves, and I turned back to the longer piece of cloth, belatedly realizing that it was a matching scarf. They were lovely,
and
had been made in my favorite color. Katy was a good guesser.

I donned the gloves and scarf and reached for the piece of wood. It fit into the palm of my hand and was an exact replica of the sign on the iron gates that read SLEEPY HOLLOW CEMETERY.

The details were
amazing.
Obviously hand carved, each letter was bold, and stood out with a shadowed background. The word "Caretakers" had been etched onto the back. I could tell that Nikolas had spent many hours laboring over it. Touched again by their kindness and generosity, I reminded myself to stop over to see them as soon as I could. Maybe I'd even bring some more cookies with me.

Getting up from the bed, I placed the teacup and wooden carving on my desk, and then reached for the stew. It was a bit awkward with the gloves on, but at that point I didn't really care. Exhaustion was setting in, and I just wanted to eat my dinner as quickly as I could.

After finishing the last couple of bites, I set the empty mug on the desk again and went to lie down next to Caspian's presents. My stomach was pleasantly full, and I felt drowsiness hit me like a jackhammer. It would be okay if I took a
little
nap. After all, I had almost four hours to kill…

When I woke up, the clock was blinking 12:48 and I was dangerously close to rolling over onto the box that Caspian had left me. I sat up groggily and pulled an extra blanket around my shoulders before peeling off the gloves I still wore. Glancing over at the clock again, I picked the cardboard box up. The time had finally come.

A nervous feeling hit my stomach, but I forced it back and ripped one end of the box open.

A thin spiral bound notebook and a tiny package wrapped in red paper were inside, and I slid out the tiny package first. It was similar in shape and size to the red fabric that my necklace had been wrapped in before, and I decided to open that one first. As I tore the paper off in one long strip, another necklace was revealed.

I gazed at it in awe and held it up to the light.

Made in the same fashion as the first one, this pendant had a drawing of the Headless Horseman on one side and a fat orange pumpkin on the other. The Horseman was a bold, black charcoal outline, beautiful and dramatic, while the pumpkin was fully colored and shaded in. It looked like it had been plucked from the nearest pumpkin patch.

Both drawings were flawless, and completely lifelike. To say that I was merely happy with it would have been a huge disservice. It was a perfect representation of the legend that I loved. I couldn't
believe
that he'd made me another necklace.

Jumping off the bed, I ran to put the necklace on. I turned from side to side to look at it in the mirror, marveling at its beauty. Then I remembered the notebook.

I ran back to the bed to return my attention to it, and tilted the box over. The notebook slid out, making a dull thumping noise as it hit the covers. A drawing of a pencil was on the cover, but the backwas made out of cardboard. I opened it up, and the first page was titled simply "The Sketchbook."

I was stunned when I flipped over to the next page.

Caspian had drawn a gorgeous picture of the cemetery with sharp jagged lines of tombstones accented against the softer curves of grass and trees. He had captured every minute detail, down to the inscriptions on the tombstones and the curled edges of stray leaves that had drifted down from the trees.

The paper crinkled slightly when I touched it, and I sat back in silence. Maybe I should have made him something too. This gift was so personal, so…
amazing.
What if he didn't like the telescope and book I'd gotten him? How could anything store-bought compare to the obvious time and effort he had spent creating this?

Worry and doubt set in, and I started flipping through the pages to distract myself. It looked like the whole notebook was filled with drawings. There was one of the bridge, and one of the river. Another one was of Washington living's grave, and the one after that was a picture of the tall iron gates guarding the cemetery entrance. They were all done in charcoal, ranging from simple black outlines to scenes with countless amounts of light and dark gray shadows.

I was startled when one of the last pages revealed a drawing of me, and I looked at it closer. Caspian had drawn mesitting next to Kristen's grave, looking out into the distance. A couple strands of hair blew slightly in a nonexistent breeze, and the sadness was clearly evident in my eyes. He had titled it "Abbey Kristen."

I slowly flipped over to the next page, unsure of what I would find.

There was another drawing of me there, this time at the river on prom night. Caspian had captured the rushing water perfectly, and me in my black dress, lying in the middle of it with my hair floating all around me. He had even drawn the black choker necklace I'd worn that night, and my eyes were blazing. This portrait was titled "Abbey's Pain."

The second-to-last page showed a picture of a storefront, downtown on Main Street. I hadn't given him very many details, but it was drawn exactly like the shop I'd picked out for my own. He'd also added a sign on top of the store that said abbey's hollow. This portrait was named "Abbey's Future."

A tear suddenly rolled down my cheek, and I wiped it away, trying very hard not to let it smear any of the lines on the page. Hesitation made me stop before I flipped to the last page, but I knew I couldn't
not
look at it. So I counted to three and held my breath as I turned to the drawing.

It was just me, my hands at my hips and my hair pushed off to one side, in jeans and a tank top. He had written "Abbey the Brave"at the bottom of the page, and I couldn't figure out why. Then I saw a slight gap between the waistband of my jeans and the bottom of my shirt. At first I thought I was imagining it.

But I wasn't.

Right where my left hip bone would be, Caspian had drawn a tattoo. The design looked like some type of triangle and circle pattern, a replica of his. I smiled and shook my head, feeling a warm glow settle over me. How was I going to tell him "Thank you" for
thisl

As I carefully closed the notebook, a letter fell out from the pages, and I picked it up, wondering how I'd missed it. Paying close attention to every word, I eagerly started reading.

Dear Abbey,

I hope you like the Christmas presents. I wanted to get you something that reminded you of me. I don't know where to go from here. I don't think this is working. What I want and what I can have are two very different things. I'm sorry. It just has to be this way.

Merry Christmas (I hope).

Love, Caspian

My heart stopped beating and sunk like a rock at those words. The warm glow faded, and I felt chilled to the very depths of mybeing. Was he breaking up with me? Did we even have something
to
break up? I lowered my head to my hands and thought about it calmly for a minute before the tears came. But then they really came.

Pushing the pictures over the edge of the bed, I removed the necklace and shoved it under my pillow. I buried myself under a mountain of covers and used my pillow to muffle my sobs as I cried myself to sleep.

It would definitely be a blue Christmas for me.

My eyes felt crusty and swollen when I woke up the next morning, and a glance in the mirror confirmed that they looked as bad as they felt. My nose was stuffed up too, so I crawled back into bed to lie under the covers for a couple more hours.

Mom was the first one to try to get me up, asking over and over again why I wasn't downstairs opening any presents yet. When the thought of free things didn't even faze me, I knew I had it bad.

Eventually I crawled out of bed and stumbled downstairs like a zombie. Mom's and Dad's faces were all happy and excited, and I went through the motions of unwrapping gifts, but I didn't really care what they'd gotten me.

As the pile of clothes, books, shoes, CDs, and perfume supplies srew, I felt worse and worse. I tried to put on a happy facewhen I gave them their gifts, and they both seemed genuinely excited to get them, especially Dad. But even that didn't last long, and I think Mom was starting to see it was all an act.

"Are you feeling sick, Abbey?" she asked me, taking her time to sort, fold, and arrange each piece of torn wrapping paper that she came across.

I nodded my head, too miserable to say anything else. With my red eyes and stuffy nose, I
looked
sick. And inside, I definitely
felt
sick. I made my way over to the window, leaned against the glass, and stared outside. It was a white Christmas after all. Mom continued to work around me, stopping once to feel my forehead with the back of her hand and mutter something about temperatures.

Dad had started cooking breakfast, and it didn't take long for a plate of extra, extra chocolate chip pancakes with a side of bacon and eggs to appear in front of me. I didn't feel hungry, or full, or anything else. I just felt blank and empty inside.

I picked at the pancakes so Dad's feelings wouldn't be hurt, but ignored everything else. After a couple minutes, though, I handed the plate off to Mom, told them both thanks for the gifts, and headed back upstairs. Today just felt like a stay-in-bed kind of day, and I wasn't going to fight it.

When I made it up to my room, I just lay there for a while. I couldn't get to sleep, and my thoughts seemed to roam from onetopic to the next. It was like I couldn't shut my brain off. Finally I pulled the sheets all the way over my head and tried to make a cocoon of sorts, to curl up and die in. My hand hit something cold and hard when I moved the pillow, and I grabbed at it, feeling a pit of dread fill up my stomach as I pulled whatever it was free.

As soon as my eyes recognized it, the floodgates opened again. Instantly more tears came, and I cried softly to myself as I sat there stroking the smooth glass. I turned it over and over again compulsively. And while I don't think it's actually possible to cry
while
you're asleep, I couldn't tell the difference. My tears felt like they would never end.

* * *

Hours later I felt a slow pull, that lazy urge that tells you it's time to get up because you've been sleeping for far too long. But I wanted to fight it. I wanted to stay where I was forever, and never move another muscle again.
Ever.

However, the pull was strong and I became more and more awake, even as I lay there with my eyes tightly closed. I could tell that it was later in the day because the light had shifted. Shadows played behind my eyes, and I opened them to a darkened room witha blinking alarm clock that let me know exactly how late it really was.

Sitting up slowly, I took in my surroundings. Everything looked different half cloaked in the dark, and I tried to shake off my grogginess. Something nagged at the back of my mind until I remembered what day it was. I didn't have very much time left.

I climbed wearily out of bed and pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweater as quickly as I could. But I had to stop several times to give myself a break. Every muscle in my body ached.
Who knew crying could take so much out of you?
I grabbed my gloves and scarf and slid them on while I took the stairs two at a time. I was really going to have to hurry to get back in time for dinner with the Maxwells.