by Wolf, Bree
I couldn’t help but grin. “How about we both go halfway? You take the bed tonight, and tomorrow we switch. And so on. And so on.”
She didn’t look real happy. “Fine.” She exhaled audibly. “You know if this is the way you treat your guests, I’m not surprised you’re having so few.”
“Nice talk.” I shook my head at her. “Want me to send you back to your parents?”
Her mouth fell open. “Hey, cheap shot!” But she raised her hands in defeat. “All right, I surrender. Well played, I must say.”
“Okay then, let me move a few things.” I pushed her suitcase into the corner by the window and cleared a few things off my dresser and the nightstand to make room for hers. Experience had taught me that Abby never traveled light.
“Hey, you’re still reading this?” she asked, picking up a book from my nightstand. As she held it up to my face, I could see it was Shakespeare’s Hamlet.
“Yeah, I love that book. Why?”
“Girl, they force us to read this crap in school. You don’t have to make it too easy for them.” She pointed at me with an accusing finger. “And don’t ever say that again. It’s creepy.”
I laughed. “Have you never liked a book?”
A line appeared between her eyes. “Do magazines count?”
I shook my head in mock disbelief. “No, they don’t.” I said, stressing every word.
“Ooh, who gave you this?” she asked, again holding the book up to my face. Only now it was opened to page 56 and there at the top was the silver bookmark, which read Today & Tomorrow. I had completely forgotten about it.
“Eh, I don’t know,” I said honestly. “You’ve never seen it before either, have you?”
Frowning, she shook her head. “Why? It’s yours. And since you’ve never told me about what is going on with you and Mr. Non-Disclosure, how would I know about any of this?”
“There is no Mr. …Non-Disclosure,” I said, frowning at her choice of words.
“Really? Then where did this clip come from? Especially with an engraving as this.” She examined it more closely. “It basically screams ‘gift’. Wouldn’t you say?”
“You’re right,” I mumbled, looking at the bookmark from over her shoulder. It had never occurred to me before. Now, it seemed pretty obvious though. It was the kind of thing you didn’t buy for yourself, but that someone bought for you.
“C’mon, tell me,” Abby begged. “I promise I’ll keep it a secret.”
Feeling helpless, I shrugged my shoulders. “I really don’t know. I’ve already wondered about it myself.”
“That’s weird,” she said, stating the obvious. “Maybe it belonged to your mom. You know, maybe your dad gave it to her.”
I thought about it for a second but then shook my head. “No, I’d have seen it before. It’s like it appeared out of nowhere.” I didn’t mention that the first time I ever saw it was in 2007, which was about three years from now. That sentence in itself was surreal and completely absurd. Who knew if she’d be ready to believe me now?
“Maybe you should ask your grams.”
“No, if she knows nothing about it, she’d just think up some crazy story to explain it. And in her mind it would probably end in a burglary gone wrong. Or something even more absurd.”
Abby frowned. “A burglar who brings something?”
I nodded. “Yeah, for you and me that would seem too insane to even consider. But believe me, that woman is a master at ignoring the obvious. A minor detail such as this will be no match for her abilities.”
“Okay,” she said slowly. “Grandma freaky, duly noted.” A grin appeared on her face. “Don’t worry, my parents are worse. They used to drive me crazy on a daily basis. God, I’m glad I don’t live with them anymore.” She slumped down on the bed. “Why is it that parents–or grandparents–can’t be normal? I mean, we are, and it’s not that difficult.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “You consider yourself normal?”
She eyed me through eyes that were only narrow slits now. “You should too if you value your life.” That settled it.
***
On Christmas Eve, the plan was to get up early and drive to the village to get a Christmas tree. However, the only one actually sticking to it was its grand architect. Grandma was up hours before either one of us managed to so much as open an eye, let alone two. In the end, we had a quick lunch and then headed out after that.
“Do I have to go?” Abby whined. “I won’t be much help any way.” She shook her head in vehemence. “What am I saying? I won’t be any help at all.” She turned to me. “I’m not touching that thing. It’s too heavy for me any way. I’ll just break a nail. And besides, Christmas trees don’t like me, they always prick me. It’s not fair that you make me go. Maybe I should talk to your grandma. She’ll understand that a tiny person like me will do more harm than good. Who knows? Maybe it’ll fall on me, and I’ll be crushed. You won’t forgive yourself if that happens. My bones are very brittle.”
She went on and on and on and wouldn’t shut up until I promised her she wouldn’t have to touch the ‘thing’. Apparently, Christmas trees were pure evil and had only one goal, which was to crush people with brittle bones. They were always on the look-out.
Once assured that she wouldn’t be asked to help out, Abby again turned into the chatty, good-natured girl we all knew. The relatively short trip was pleasant enough although it took longer than anticipated because the road was blanketed by a film of ice here and there. At one point, we actually almost slid into an overgrown ditch. By the time we finally made it to the village, my grandma’s nerves were so tense that she was unable to enjoy the search for the just-right Christmas tree. In the end, it was Abby and Andy who found one that even my grandma was happy with. However, Abby refused to have any part in loading it onto the car.
Giving my brother a hand here and there, I watched how he expertly strapped the tree to the car roof. And after a few words of praise–some of them coming from Abby, which made him blush ever so slightly–we invited him to a hot beverage and walked over to the Christmas stalls, that sold all kinds of drinks and foods appreciated in the cold season. These stalls were aligned in two rows down Main Street leaving just enough room for two cars to squeeze through. However, in winter most people tended to walk, and some even pulled little sleighs behind them, filled with their purchases or occupied by their children. It was a beautiful scene.
I had a hot chocolate, and after feeling warmed up again, we all returned to the car. Getting in, I stopped.
Across the street by a stall selling pretzels stood my mystery guy.
And this time, I only hesitated for a second. Still keeping my eyes on him, I said, “I’ll meet you guys at home.”
“What’s going on?” Abby asked from the back seat.
“Nothing. I just saw someone I know. I’ll meet you at the house.” I closed the door without waiting for a reply.
Rounding the car and carefully picking my way across the street, I saw him turn and walk down Main Street.
Again, I wondered why he did what he did. I felt strangely reminded of a dog unable to say what it wanted but trying to guide its master to a place that would have the answers.
At first walking on the sidewalk I gained on him a little and thought I’d manage to catch up, but then he headed out of the village, walking down the path leading to the lake we used to skate on when we were little. However, after a girl had almost died after breaking through the ice, it had been fenced in and signs had been set up, prohibiting any ice-skating. The ice just wasn’t thick enough.
Out here, the unpaved roads were almost completely covered with ice. I slipped several times, landing on my butt and almost twisting my ankle.
However, looking up at him, I couldn’t help but wonder how he could walked as steady as he did as though the ice didn’t bother him at all. He didn’t slip nor look in any way bothered by the condition of the ground. He was completely sure-footed.
It made a
ll this seem even more surreal than ever.
He put a little more distance between us, but whenever I fell, he stopped and waited, looking back at me.
Even from farther away, I thought I could still detect that glimpse of impatience on his face; as though he was expecting me to be more nimble.
Busy with concentrating on staying on my feet and not losing sight of him, I hadn’t paid any attention to where we were going and was surprised to find myself at the lake. He stood there by the fence, right next to the sign that read No Ice-skating.
I stopped and waited, and for a while, we just looked at each other. Then, after a small eternity, I rediscovered my voice and asked the most pressing question on my mind. “Who are you?”
A smile spread over his face, lighting up his eyes, and all of a sudden I felt an unbelievably strong sense of recognition. It was as though a part of me had just recognized him.
My head, however, still couldn’t put a name with his face. I raked my brain, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t remember him, how I knew him or who he was to me.
To top things off, he didn’t say a word; didn’t give any explanation. Instead, he turned around and climbed over the fence, stepping onto the frozen lake.
“Don’t!” I called in alarm, carefully approaching the fence. “It’s not safe.”
Ignoring me, he walked a few steps onto the lake, completely unimpressed by the danger under his feet, before he turned around to look at me again.
His eyes found mine and held them captive.
I felt paralyzed, unable to move, to blink, even to breathe. My heart thudded in my chest, and I began to feel dizzy. And yet, all the while, a tingling warmth spread though my body that I had never known before. I felt safe and whole and complete as his dark eyes looked into mine as though they had done so countless times before, and it was almost as though he beckoned me forward.
“Some risks are worth taking,” he said in a voice that sent goose bumps down my back.
However, before I could reply or even contemplate replying, he turned around and walked away. Crossing the frozen lake, he headed toward the woods on the other side.
Once again, my body betrayed me, and I just stood there, staring after him. I saw him cross the lake safely and head into the woods framing the banks to the east. He didn’t turn around again but soon disappeared between the trees.
I didn’t know how long I waited there. Waited for what exactly? For him to return? For answers to suddenly reveal themselves? I felt reluctant to leave. For whatever reason. Only when the cold slowly crawled up my spine and a shiver settled on my body did I realize that my feet had long since turned to ice.
Finally pulling myself away, I headed home.
Chapter Twelve – Peaceful
Arriving home, completely frozen through, I was welcomed by a beautifully decorated Christmas tree and a delicious smell wafting over from the kitchen and filling the entire house. My grandma ran around, looking for last minute ingredients to her turkey and dressing. Breathing in, I also detected the aroma of mashed potatoes and apple pie.
In the meantime, Abby and Andy had set up the tree and started dressing it with lights and ornaments. Obviously, Abby had graciously agreed to make an exception to her I won’t touch that thing rule. They both looked happy, especially Andy, for whenever Abby wasn’t looking, his eyes lingered on her, shining even brighter than the sparkling lights on the tree.
“There you are,” Abby said when she saw me, sounding slightly annoyed. “What took you so long? Where the bloody hell have you been?”
As he noticed me, Andy’s face lost its glow. Apparently, he wasn’t all too happy with my sudden appearance.
“I just took a walk,” I mumbled, heading upstairs to change. The moment I stepped out of the bathroom though, Abby was there waiting for me.
I raised my eyebrows questioningly.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she chided. “You know exactly why I am here.”
“I don’t have a clue,” I said, knowing exactly why she was there. “Why don’t you give me a hint?”
“Funny,” she said, calling my bluff. “Who is he?”
“He who?” I asked, playing innocent. I really didn’t feel like talking to her; especially because I couldn’t really tell her anything. I should’ve known though that she wouldn’t just walk away. I’d never known her to.
“Okay, not funny anymore,” she said, crossing her arms. “Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. It’s up to you.”
I chuckled. “You sound like someone out of a bad cop movie.”
She just shrugged. “I don’t care. It’ll do the trick. So, dish. I saw the guy you went after. Just because I’m a little self-involved, doesn’t mean I don’t notice what’s going on around me.”
I smiled at her. That was Abby. Brutally honest, even about herself. It was a rare treat. Only few people were self-confident enough to tell the truth, no matter what about.
“Fine,” I said, giving up. “It’s a guy I’ve…been seeing around now and then.” I didn’t mention that now and then included future events. “But he always takes off quickly, and I didn’t really get to talk to him. So you see, there isn’t much to tell.”
“Maybe what you are not saying is more important.”
I frowned. “What are you talking about?”
She smiled at me. “I mean that you obviously like him.”
“I didn’t say I liked him,” I objected strongly.
“Duh.” She raised her eyebrows at me. “But you see, that’s the beauty of having me as your best friend,” she said, almost glowing with pride. “Just because you didn’t say it doesn’t mean I don’t know it. Doesn’t that make life a lot easier?”
“Easier or more annoying?” I mumbled.
“Now, don’t be all grumpy and come to dinner,” she said, still as cheerful as before. “You have to admit, slightly obsessive or not, your grams can cook. It smells delicious. I’m glad we’re only staying a few days or you’d probably have to roll me out of here.”
So we went downstairs, helped with the rest of the preparations and spent the rest of the night eating more than we ever had. Since Abby refrained from asking any more questions I couldn’t really answer, it actually turned out to be a wonderful evening. Comfortable. Quiet. Peaceful.
In a word: perfect.
The next morning, we only had a light breakfast because last night’s binge-eating didn’t leave much room for anything else. Neither one of us felt really hungry yet, and so we decided to go for a short walk before exchanging presents.
It was a beautiful day, and with the streets still iced over, we cut across country and tramped through the deep snow, oftentimes sinking in to our knees. It was wonderful and reminded us of our childhood. Feeling all carefree and exuberant, we had a snowball fight, built a snowman and made snow angels.
Now and then looking at my grandma, I could see how much she loved having us back here. Too occupied with our own lives, it had been a long time since either one of us had come for a visit and I promised her we’d be back soon.
Only when the cold and wet of the snow started seeping through our clothing and we started to shiver did we turn back, heading home. However, this time we took a different route, which led us by the frozen lake. I stopped for a moment looking over to the other side where I had stood the day before. For a second, I half-expected to see him. But there was no one there.
“Something wrong?” Abby asked.
I shook my head, putting on a smile. “It’s just so beautiful.”
She nodded. “Yeah, I love it here. We should come by more often.” She cast a glance at my grandma and said in a slightly louder voice, “But your grams probably wouldn’t want us here too often after all the trouble we’ve caused her.”
“Oh, no, girl. That’s silly,” my grandma assured her, hastening over. “I always welcome your company.”
Abby grinned at me, satisfied. “Then we are invited more often?”
“Anytime,” my grandma said, chuckling. “You’ll be lucky if I let you leave.”
That settled it. Both Abby and my grandmother were floating on air. The standing invitation suited them both. My grandma loved taking care of others, and the more people she could dote on, the happier she was. And after growing up with endlessly fighting parents, Abby enjoyed the peace and quiet of my grandma’s house more than anything.
The rest of the day passed in the same fashion. We exchanged presents under the Christmas tree, had some eggnog, and played board games. By any standards, it probably was a pretty boring day, but we loved it. We laughed and teased, told stories and shared memories; and it was long past midnight when we finally headed to bed.
At night, I woke once, hearing the cry of an owl somewhere in the distance. But snuggling back into my covers, I turned around and went back to sleep.
Once again, a voice echoed in my head, its soft tone and rhythmic melody soothing my tense nerves. Unfortunately, it was once more accompanied by a very insistent beeping sound, which drifted over from farther away. It was steady but unusually monotonous, as if following the rhythm of the speaker’s heartbeat. However, something about it was very unsettling, and a nagging sense of foreboding settled in my bones.
Book Four
Chapter Thirteen – Again
An annoying beeping sound reached my ear. After a while though, I realized that it was different from the one I kept hearing in my dreams. The intervals were not the same, and the sound was too irritating to endure a moment longer. I opened my eyes, staring at the ceiling, and by reflex, my hand reached out and turned off the alarm clock on my nightstand.
The moment my eyes focused on what they saw, my heart started beating faster. Trying to focus on what I’d expected to see, I closed them again. Just for a moment. However, when I opened them once more, the scenery was still the same, only not the one I remembered from the night before when I had gone to bed.
I took a deep breath.
It had happened again. Just by looking at the ceiling I could tell that I was back in my apartment and not in my grandma’s cottage any more. The only question was, which year was it this time? Had I traveled forward or backward? And what would await me outside my door?