The Hollow

by Jessica Verday

  I think I forgot to breathe while I slowly unwound several layers of red cloth. It kept getting smaller and smaller, until the last fold revealed the treasure inside.

  It was a necklace. He had given me a necklace.

  Very gently I picked it up. It appeared to be made out of tiny square glass plates, and the edges were soldered together all the way around. A small ring had been attached to the top, and a black satin ribbon was threaded through it. But the best part was what was underneath the glass's surface.

  On the front, with a background of midnight blue, was the name Astrid etched in deep red flowing cursive letters. I traced the graceful lines with my fingertip, and carefully turned it over, eager to see the other side.

  The back had the same brilliant blue background, but it was dotted with tiny white stars, and each one hung like a perfect diamond, dazzling against the nighttime canvas. It was absolutely exquisite. The most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

  Tying the ribbon around my neck, I jumped up from the bed and ran over to the mirror. The pendant lay in the hollow of my throat, and the black ribbon hugged my neck in a graceful V.

  I couldn't stop staring at it. This had to mean he felt something for me. There was no way you would give something so personal to someone you were "just friends" with.

  That thought filled me with a strange joy, and I gleefully danced around the room, only stopping when I came perilously close to knocking over my nightstand. I went to go look in the mirror one more time, and suddenly remembered the bath I was supposed to be taking.

  I made my way over to the bathroom, pulled the plug on the tub, and turned on the water, wiggling the knob until it reached the temperature I liked. Then I added a heaping scoopfiil of bath salts and shut the door behind me as I left the room to take the necklace off.

  I slowly untied the ribbon and held the small pendant in my hand. The metal edges were rough and bumpy, a stark contrast to the smooth plated glass. I was amazed at the perfect detailing. Where had he gotten it from? It was truly a masterpiece. A tiny work of art certainly worth more to me than any piece by Monet or van Gogh could ever be.

  The sound of running water reminded me of my forgotten bath again, and I put the necklace down on the bed and raced into the bathroom. I was about an inch away from having an overflowing tub, but I made it in time.

  I turned the faucet off and stripped out of my clothes before dipping a bare toe in. I shivered at the contact. It was so hot, it actually gave me chills. Giving myself time to adjust to the temperature, I sank in bit by bit and exhaled a happy sigh when I was fully immersed. This was heaven in a tub.

  Reaching for the orange burlap bag that held my bath salts, I added another spoonful to the bathwater. A yummy pumpkin pie scent immediately filled the bathroom, and I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. The rough edges of the salts brushed against my skin while they sank to the bottom, and I swirled my hands gently around me, creating tiny waves to help them dissolve faster. The water was warm and soothing, and I felt my body slowly start to relax.

  My mind drifted, and I found myself thinking about the last couple of months. So much had happened-good and bad. While I had come to terms with Kristen's death, in some sort of way, I was still troubled by everything I had learned from the diaries. And what about the plans for my shop? Would Kristen really want me to go through with them?

  Then I thought about Caspian, which immediately brought a smile to my face. I hadn't completely worked out when, or how, I was going to tell him what I felt, but I still had plenty of time to figure it out. The right moment would come. Eventually.

  I stayed in the tub until my fingers were pruney and I had relived that library kiss over and over again. Begrudgingly I climbed out and dried off, then marched over to survey my closet for something nice to wear. I ended up choosing a pink shirtdress that mom had bought for me last year for school. I would wear the dress for her, and my black combat boots for me. That was a good compromise.

  After I got dressed, I put the necklace from Caspian back on and tied a black scarf around my neck to cover it up. I really wasn't in the mood to explain to Mom and Dad where it had come from, but I certainly wasn't going to not wear it.

  Dragging my feet, I headed downstairs, looking forward to what was surely going to be the most boring night of my life.

  Mom had gone with my suggestion of meat loaf, and I gave Aunt Marjorie a polite smile when she arrived. Dinner was fairly normal, while Mom and Dad did most of the talking. Aunt Marjorie completely shocked me, though, as she was holding the peas, when she announced that she used to wear black combat boots too, and she really liked mine.

  The look of surprise on Mom's face was priceless, and I decided right then and there that Aunt Marjorie was officially my new favorite great-aunt.

  She spent the rest of the evening telling me stories about her rebellious younger years, and how she used to be a pilot. She still had her own plane and everything. I kept urging her to tell me story after story, until dinner had ended and several hours had passed without either of us realizing it. When she gathered up her coat, I was genuinely sorry to see her go, but I promised to visit soon. And she promised to take me up in her plane and teach me a thing or two about flying.

  Then she was officially my new favorite relative of all time.

  I'd had no idea someone that cool was related to me.

  I couldn't wait to go visit her.

  It felt like I had only shut my eyes for a couple of seconds when nine o'clock came the next morning. It certainly did not feel like I had just spent the last seven and a half hours in a comfortable bed, surrounded by soft pillows.

  But once I got in the shower, the hot water did wonders. I had a feeling that Caspian might be at the cemetery today, and I wanted to thank him for the beautiful necklace.

  I peeked out the window to gauge the weather, and saw the wind whipping through the trees, stirring up brightly colored maple leaves on the ground and making each one dance. I grabbed a red belted trench coat on my way out the door. I wasn't going to get caught in the cold this time.

  The air outside was crisp and clean, and I breathed deeply. Everything looked so shiny and new. It was like a whole different world out here. I felt light, and pretty, and completely happy. Nothing could ruin my good mood…

  … except wandering through a cemetery all morning, searching for someone who wasn't there.

  To make matters worse, I'd skipped breakfast again, so that meant I was beyond hungry. "Hungry" had been an hour and a half ago. Now it felt like I could eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner all piled on top of each other.

  I trudged along the cemetery path one last time, toward the river, with my hands tightly fisted in my pockets. One more sweep. I would make just one more sweep down by the bridge, and then I was totally out of here. Several hot fresh pizza slices were calling my name from the pizzeria downtown, and I didn't want to deny them.

  Disappointment weighed heavily on my mind as I scanned under the bridge, desperate for a glimpse of Caspian. He isn t here.

  I slowly made my way back up to the main cemetery path, but took a right when I normally would have taken a left. The path split, and I started walking toward the other half of the cemetery, telling myself that there was no particular reason why I was going this way. This path would lead me out of the cemetery and to the pizza… eventually. It wasn't like I was going to see if Caspian was over on this side. That was something I was definitely not doing.

  I almost had myself convinced, when I spotted someone. My heart sped up until I saw that it was Nikolas. Disappointment set back in. I opened my mouth to say something, but realized awkwardly that I didn't know what to say.

  I don't know if I made some type of weird noise with my mouth hanging open like that, or if he just sensed I was there somehow, but suddenly he turned and looked my way. A wide grin split his face and he put up one hand in a wave. I smiled back and quickened my pace.

  "Hello, Nikolas," I said once I got closer.
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  His hair was even more windblown than it had been before, but his eyes were still warm and friendly. He nodded his head in greeting. "Katy, look, we have a visitor. The young lady I told you about," Nikolas called out.

  I turned in the general direction where he seemed to be speaking. Farther down another path an older woman was placing a single flower along each gravestone. She looked our way, and I could see her wrinkled face light up with a smile. Her long strawberry-golden hair was tied back in gentle waves, and she was wearing an old-fashioned skirt that should have looked completely out of place, yet suited her perfectly. She bent to pick up her basket from the ground, and then lifted it high and started toward us.

  Nikolas reached out his hand to help her when she reached us. She gave it a quick squeeze, and Nikolas made the introductions. "This is Abigail-er, Abbey, sweet." He turned to me. "And this is my wife, Katy."

  "It's very nice to meet you," I said. Her eyes were just like his-friendly, and crinkly in the corners-but they were clear blue. Even brighter than my own blue eyes.

  "How lovely to meet you, Abbey," she replied. "Nikolas told me that you helped him tend to Mr. Irving. They so enjoyed the company. Would you care to join us for some tea this afternoon?" She looked at me hopefully.

  "Do you have any peppermint tea?" I asked, grinning at Nikolas. They both chuckled.

  "Ahh, yes, of course. It's our favorite kind," said Katy.

  "Then I would love to," I agreed.

  Katy passed the basket she held over to Nikolas. "If you will carry that for me, love, we'll lead the way." Then she gave him a questioning look, and he nodded once.

  Grabbing my hand, Katy tucked it into the crook of her elbow.

  I didn't know where we were headed-there weren't any houses close to this side of the cemetery-but she just started walking, and I tried to keep up. She was surprisingly fast for someone who was probably sixty years older than me.

  We walked for a while along that path. Every now and then it would wind sharply to one side or the other. The farther we walked, the more frequent the twists and turns became. The foliage also started to get denser. Trees seemed to stand closer together, with their branches interwoven tightly among each other, filtering the daylight so that it broke through only in small patches.

  The ground was overflowing with springy moss and sparse flowers. Wild ferns pushed their way onto the pathway, invading our space. They seemed to be reaching out to grasp the edges of our clothing as we passed by. I suppose the changes in the scenery should have made me a little apprehensive, but being with Nikolas and Katy put my mind at ease.

  I could hear the shrill chirping of birds, singing along to a scattered melody that only they knew. A sharp tap, tap, tap indicated a woodpecker was nearby, and as we passed a giant tree trunk, I caught sight of it. His head was fiery red, and he took a moment from his pecking to look back at me, as if astonished to see someone so near his claimed space.

  It was all so… amazing. I had spent plenty of time outside, and had certainly seen trees and plants and birds before, but this… this was completely different. Out here was wild and untouched. Nature as it was meant to be.

  What surprised me the most, though, was that I had never noticed this place. I thought Kristen and I had explored every inch of the cemetery grounds.

  All of a sudden Katy slowed, and indicated that we were going to cross a small wooden bridge that was just ahead. The rickety old slats of the bridge jumped and rattled beneath our feet as we crossed, causing a clip, clop sound to echo around us. It created an eerie ambiance, and I glanced behind me more than once to make sure I wasn't being followed by an actual horse. And perhaps a headless rider…?

  I looked down at the shallow stream below me and felt silly. The Horseman couldn't cross water. What was I thinking? Forcing a laugh as we stepped off the bridge, I breathed a not-so-silent sigh of relief. Nikolas was a step behind us, but he caught up quickly.

  My jaw dropped when I looked up and saw what was waiting in front of me. It was the most perfect straight-from-the-pages-of-a-storybook cottage I had ever seen.

  The walls were built with large, uneven rounded stones, while the roof looked like it had been laid with thatched shingles. Various plants grew abundantly underneath each leaded glass arched window. A trailing vine of purple flowers was creeping up the massive stone chimney on the left of the wooden front door.

  "Wisteria," I said softly to myself. I recognized it from the Irving estate. "Your home is absolutely beautiful!" I breathed in with awe. "I didn't know that anyone lived back here."

  Katy nodded. "Thank you for your compliment. I know my home appreciates it." There was a twinkle in her eye.

  "I'm glad your home enjoys compliments," I said with a smile. I took another moment to gaze at my beautiful surroundings, and Nikolas stepped around us to place the basket he had been carrying next to the front door. Then he gently pushed the door open, and held out his hand, waiting for Katy, who had stooped down to snap off a dead leaf from one of the wisteria vines. She placed her hand in his, and they crossed the threshold together, sharing a look that made me fiercely miss my own long-dead grandparents. "Please make yourself at home, Abbey," Katy called from inside the house.

  I took a deep breath and walked in, unsure of what I'd see. But it didn't disappoint. It was just as beautiful on the inside as it was on the outside.

  There were flowers absolutely everywhere. The house looked like it could have been a flower shop. Bunches of dried flowers hung from the exposed rafter beams and from the walls, while fresh flowers filled ancient glass bottles that covered every spare surface.

  The counters were neat and clean, uncluttered by snacks or junk food like the ones at my house. Not even so much as a loaf of bread was sitting out. An old spinning wheel hung on one of the white walls, but the obvious gathering place was a massive slate table, worn with age, set up in front of the brick fireplace.

  I stood there awkwardly, not really sure what to do now that I was actually inside the house, but Katy told me to have a seat and gestured toward the table. Pulling out an ornately carved wooden chair, I did as I was told.

  Nikolas puttered over to a metal teakettle hanging next to the fireplace, took it to the sink, and spoke quietly to Katy while he filled it with water. She took some leaves out of a bowl on the countertop and brought them over to him. Smoothing down his wild hair with one wrinkled hand, she gave him a look that made me feel like I was intruding on a very personal moment. I looked away and let my mind wander.

  I could totally see myself here. Surrounded by my bottles, and oils, and glass jars. Making my own peppermint tea, with someone who had white-blond hair and green eyes, and a smile that made me melt. We would set up a little work space underneath the window by the sink, and I would create my perfumes all day long with a perfect view of the garden outside. A fat lazy cat would lie in front of the fireplace, and in the afternoon Caspian and I would take our tea together. He would help me label scents, and fill bottles, and lift all the things that were too heavy for me, and we would talk about anything and everything while we worked side by side.

  The sudden metal clang of the teapot hitting the hook it would hang from in the fireplace interrupted my daydreams, and I mentally reigned myself in. Was I really rearranging someone else's house to fit my needs and planning out Caspian's future for him? What was wrong with me? What if he didn't want to live in a cozy cottage and fill bottles, or lift heavy things, or take afternoon tea breaks? What if he wanted to do something entirely different with his life?

  What if he didn't want… me?

  I was seriously freaking out, and getting way too ahead of myself, so I took a deep breath and tried to calm back down. I looked around and saw that Nikolas was making his way over to a rocking chair in the corner with a small knife and a piece of wood in his hand, while Katy wiped off the counter in front of her.

  Seeing them both here, in a place obviously well loved and suited to them, brought a dull ache to the midd
le of my stomach. They really did remind me of my grandparents.

  Since my grandparents had died within days of each other when I was six, I had only a handful of memories of them. But the overall feelings of love and tenderness had always been there. I could vaguely recall how much they'd seemed to truly enjoy each other's company. It was a far cry from the grandparents on my dad's side. They had been divorced longer than they'd been married, and didn't even like to hear each other's name mentioned.

  I fervently hoped that would never happen to me. I wanted a happy ending and a stone cottage in my future. I never wanted to end up hating the one person I had sworn to love until death parted us. I would rather not love anyone at all than have that happen to me.

  Thoughts of divorce and unhappily-ever-afters were certainly not adding to the cheerfulness of the afternoon, so I decided to try my hand at small talk. After all, it couldn't get any worse than sitting in a chair depressing myself with my own thoughts. I said the first thing that came to mind. "So, do you guys like the legend?"

  Katy and Nikolas both stared at me like I was speaking a foreign language.

  "The legend?" they asked innocently.

  "You know," I elaborated, "'The Legend of Sleepy Hollow'? Since you guys live here… I just wondered if you liked the legend."

  "Yes, we do enjoy the legend." Nikolas spoke before I had a chance to hang my head and apologize for how socially inadequate I obviously was at small talk. I glanced over at him, and he was concentrating on whittling away tiny slivers of wood.

  "Because we have lived here all of our lives, it is a story that is near and dear to us," agreed Katy, pulling out the chair next to me. She held a tangled pile of multicolored yarn, and I could see two shiny silver knitting needles poking out of the side. "What about you, dear?" she asked. "What do you think of it? You seem to have a strong connection to the Hollow."

  "Oh, it's one of my favorites," I said quickly. "I've lived here all my life too, and I think it's great that the town embraces history like it does. My parents are both on the town council, so I go to a lot of the meetings with them, and I get to see firsthand all of the work that goes into preserving Sleepy Hollow."