"No, I haven't found the damn book yet," Abbie groans. "Have you had any luck?"
Jenny picks up a chicken leg and says, "I have seen so much of Benny Frank's handwriting I could probably forge his signature, but haven't found anything useful."
"I think I've figured out his alphabet," Abbie sighs, biting into a french fry. They are having their girls' night, and Jenny arrived with fried chicken dinners in tow. They spent some of the evening searching the house, and while they have found one secret crawlspace off the kitchen, they've turned up nothing else.
"Look at you, Brainiac; that's totally going to impress your man," Jenny declares. "Once we find a way to wake his ass up."
"If we can find that stupid book. And even if we find it, there's no guarantee it'll work," Abbie sighs, not even bothering to contradict her sister referring to Crane as "her man."
"That's the spirit," Jenny sarcastically replies.
Abbie pries a wing apart and sighs. "I'm just trying to not get my hopes up too high," she admits.
Jenny ponders her sister a moment and says, "Well, I'm letting myself get my hopes up. This guy… dead or not… he's been really good for you. I can't remember the last time I've seen you this happy."
"Between this house and Crane, I haven't had time to wallow in self-pity," Abbie admits. "Macey sent me an email the other day from Tucson. She loves it there."
"Oh good. Is she going to school?"
"Yeah, she'll be starting at U of A in the fall," Abbie answers. "She said she's super excited about it."
"Does she know what she wants to study?" Jenny asks.
"Um, she's not sure, but something in science. Maybe biology. She's super smart, so I'm sure she'll be great at whatever she chooses," Abbie replies.
"She's a great kid. The world is a better place because she's in it, and we have you to thank for the fact that she's still in it," Jenny says. She holds her breath, waiting for the inevitable "but".
"She's going to to amazing things," Abbie agrees, nodding as she refills both their wine glasses.
Jenny exhales and smiles. "Yes, she is. Now. Where is that cheesecake you promised me?"
xXx
It is well past midnight when the sisters finally go to bed. They do go upstairs for Crane's 10:43 walk, and Abbie confesses she stood in his path the week before. She doesn't tell her sister everything that she felt when he walked through her.
Jenny sleeps in the Blue Room – which is now pale taupe with deep red curtains. The futon has been joined by a nightstand and a lamp, but the room is still largely empty.
Abbie falls asleep almost immediately.
"Your hair is quite becoming, Lieutenant," Crane says when he sees her. Jenny had done her hair in a braid that wound from the front to the back, curving asymmetrically around her head. He shyly opens his arms in invitation, and Abbie tries not to rush into them, but fails.
She hasn't seen him since they met in the Dream Realm, four days ago.
"I apologize for my absence," he murmurs. "Our rendezvous took rather a lot of my energy."
She simply nods against his chest, telling him she understands. She looks up at him, picturing the true shade of blue in his eyes, kind of hating this dulled-down version she has to see here. Now that she knows what she's missing, this setting both literally and figuratively pales in comparison.
He slides his hands up her back, moving them up until he cups her face. He drops a kiss on her forehead and says, "I wish I had some helpful information for you, but thus far you have done exactly as I would have. I can think of nothing to suggest."
Abbie nods again and drops her head against his chest. She inhales, and frowns because she is unable to smell him.
"Do not give up hope, my treasure," Crane murmurs, kissing the top of her head. "I know you will persevere. I know you will succeed."
She looks up at him, her eyes questioning. He has such faith in me; there's no way I can let him down.
"This… connection we have," he explains. "It cannot be for no purpose. As Mr. Gage said, Fate does play a part." He studies her face a moment, then leans down and kisses her lips.
She sighs and melts, discovering the one thing that isn't dulled by this place. He is cold, but his kisses still send a jolt through her. Her hands come up into his hair again, and she smiles against his lips when she realizes it is still down.
"Oh…" he gasps, pulling away for a moment, his eyes searching her face. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't take adv—"
Abbie pulls his face down to hers, cutting off his unnecessary apology with her lips. His hands freely rove her body, cold but leaving heat in their path.
Crane pulls away again, tugging her to the bench. "You are too petite," he murmurs as they sit, then dives into her again. "And you really should wear more clothing to bed, because you are driving me completely mad," he adds, trailing down her neck.
She immediately makes a mental note to find where she put her booty shorts and that sheer camisole. No, not the booty shorts. The black thong. I'm gonna make him lose his damn mind. She shoves at his coat, wanting the thick wool out of her way. Her hands itch to know what he feels like, cold or not.
He leans back and quickly sheds the thick woolen garment, dropping it on the ground beside the bench. He resumes exactly where he left off, at her collarbone, unconsciously nudging the strap of her tank top aside to allow his lips to move lower still.
She drops her head back, encouraging him, wanting this, needing this. She feels his hand at her waist, so she takes it and guides it up under her shirt.
"You are playing with fire, Miss Mills," he says, but his hand finds her breast. He groans and moves down, shoving her shirt up and out of the way before closing his lips over her nipple.
Abbie's mouth forms a soundless O from the sensation of his cool lips and tongue laving her. It's strange, but good, and she bunches his shirt in her fists for a second before moving one down, searching for him.
Crane is faster, however, slipping his hand inside her shorts. His cold fingers make her buck against him.
Her hand slides down, over the front of his trousers, searching for the impressive length she felt in the Dream Realm. She finds her target, but the hardness is not there.
"I'm afraid it will not work here," he explains, clearly unhappy about this information, but it does not stop him from continuing to lavish her with attention.
Well, that's hardly fair. She moves her hand away, sliding it around to grab his rear instead.
"Abbie," he murmurs, his lips skimming back up to her neck while his fingers continue to do wicked things between her legs. "May I…"
She nods, not even really caring what he wants to ask.
He moves lower again, presses a kiss to the swell of her breast, lifts his head, and asks, "May I drink from the flower of your womanhood?" He stills his fingers.
She blinks a few times. Did he seriously just ask that question… that way? She nods more insistently, conveying that she already answered him.
"You did not know what I was going to ask," he counters, already pulling her shorts down as he moves to kneel on the ground, on top of his coat.
All she can do is shrug, having no way to tell him that she trusts him.
He settles between her thighs, but leans forward, kissing her stomach just below her belly button. "You are exquisite, Abigail," he whispers, then kisses her knee.
He gently pulls her to the edge of the bench, then makes a trail of kisses up her inner thigh. The feel of his beard alone is enough to make her squirm with pleasure. When his tongue makes contact, her mouth opens in a soundless cry. All she can think is Damn, he knows what he's doing. Then all thought leaves. She writhes, her fingers tangling in his hair.
Then he adds one of those sinful fingers, slipping it inside while his tongue curls around her button, and she nearly loses her mind. When he adds a second, she explodes.
xXx
Abbie lies awake in bed, pleasantly warm and sated. She's not even sure how to refer to what happened. Was it an erotic dream? A spirit encounter?
She decides to chalk it up under "miscellaneous".
Because that was no dream and he is definitely not a spirit, she thinks, remembering how his beard felt against the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, how he seemed to instinctively know exactly how to use that tongue of his to make her squirm and gasp. If she could have gasped.
Remembering how tender and sweet he was after, in the moments before she was pulled away.
She reaches down with an exploratory hand and finds that she is still wet and slightly swollen, and her inner thighs are, indeed, a tad sensitive.
Beard burn, she thinks, grinning stupidly. She moves her hand up to her breast and thinks about how his hands – instruments of sin, those – caressed and teased her until she was trapped between begging him to stop and begging for more.
She never really appreciated any man's hands before Crane. Now she can't not notice them. She closes her eyes again, and can still see him standing there in the Dream Realm's version of the Blue Room. How his hands fidgeted and fluttered, stroking his beard, tracing the edge of the windowsill, fiddling with the knob on that built-in cabinet…
Wait.
Abbie sits up straight in bed. That cabinet isn't there anymore. She just finished painting the room, and knows there is nothing built in to any of the walls.
She swings out of bed and hurries next door, where Jenny is sleeping on the futon.
"Abbie?" Jenny groggily asks, sitting halfway up. "What are you doing?"
"I just remembered something," Abbie answers, walking to the wall where the cabinet was in the Dream Realm.
"You remembered that you wanted to stroke the wall?" Jenny asks, watching as her sister runs her hand over the smooth surface.
"There was a built-in cabinet here once," Abbie explains, turning around. "I saw it in the Dream Realm. According to Crane, the room there was exactly like it was back in his day, except there was no furniture. The walls were blue and everything. And there was a cabinet right here." She smacks her palm flat against the wall. She cocks her head and then knocks on it. Then she moves to the adjacent wall and knocks on that one. It sounds different. She returns to the place where the cabinet was and hits it again. "It sounds hollow here." She balls up her fist and pounds on the wall with the side of it.
"You'll need an actual tool," Jenny recommends. "Like a hammer or mallet. Maybe a saw."
"Yeah," Abbie agrees, and dashes downstairs. When she returns, Jenny is up and thumping the wall as well.
"Here," Jenny points. "Give it a good smack right here."
She moves her hand, and Abbie swings. She hits the wall with her hammer, denting the wallboard.
"Oh, good, it's drywall," Jenny says. "If it was plaster, it would be more difficult."
"The fact that it's drywall and not the original plaster tells me that this is definitely the right place," Abbie replies, hitting the wall again, this time plunging the head of the hammer through.
Jenny sticks her fingers into the hole and pulls, ripping the drywall out. Abbie drops the hammer and joins her, pulling and flinging, not caring a thing about the mess.
There is a rectangular space framed into the wall. One shelf is still hanging askew.
But it's empty.
"Fuck," Abbie breathes. "Fuck." Frustrated, she picks up the hammer and swings, hard, right below the cabinet, venting her anger on the already-damaged wall. The bottom of the cabinet crumbles, completely rotted.
"Abbie," Jenny says, grabbing her sister's wrist before she swings again. She then pokes the remnants of some soft, spongy wood. "There's almost no bottom left. If it was in here, it might have fallen through."
They start pulling at the drywall again, ripping it away down to the floor.
A few minutes later, the sisters stare at a rectangle of burgundy leather for a moment before Abbie finally reaches down with a trembling hand.
"Please don't be rotted too," she whispers, gently wiping dust off of the cover. She sees a faded B.F. on the front and runs her fingers across it.
"Why would someone wall up a book?" Jenny asks.
"Maybe they didn't see it," Abbie theorizes. "Maybe it fell through before it was walled up. Who knows? And I don't really care right now." She opens it and scans the pages, looking for anything that would point to this being the journal. Then she gasps.
"Is this it?" Jenny asks.
"Captain I. Crane," Abbie answers, whispering, as she points at the name. "I think we have a winner. 'Six-inch laceration to the left pectoral. It is rather deep, but Mrs. Dixon has expertly dressed it. I have set preparations in place to revive him after the end of this ridiculous war.'" She looks at her sister, grins, then looks up and says, "Crane, baby, we found it."
xXx
They call Joe, and he arrives half an hour later with bagels and coffee. They huddle over the journal while they eat breakfast, taking notes and basically trying to figure out what to do.
Abbie stretches, then gets up to stretch and clean up a bit. She collects the napkins and paper cups, then walks to the trash can.
"Ab… it says you need to have a token. Like, something that was his," Jenny says, looking worried. "We're screwed."
Abbie bites her lower lip, then quietly says, "I have something."
"What?" Jenny and Joe say in unison, shocked.
"I have something," she repeats, louder. She ignores her sister's puzzled and suspicious look and goes to her room. She returns with the necklace a minute later. "He tried to give this to me when we met in the Dream Realm," she says. "I refused, saying it was too much." She ponders the beautiful pendant resting on her palm. "He must have slipped it into my pocket when we…"
"When you what?" Jenny asks, coming over to look at the necklace. "Holy shit, that thing must be worth a fortune! That sapphire is almost black!"
"That's one reason why I didn't want to accept it," Abbie explains. "The other reason was it was his mother's." Abbie holds it up, letting the sun shine through the dark blue stone.
"When you what?" Jenny repeats, noting how her sister did not answer her the first time.
Abbie sighs. "We may or may not have made out a little bit," she admits, firmly keeping the information about what they did in her dream last night locked inside her brain.
Jenny stares at her a second, blinks twice, then says, "Yeah, I probably would have done the same thing if I were in your place. Maybe more."
"We only had 30 minutes, and we did have some things to discuss," Abbie explains with a laugh, then sets the necklace on the table.
"Go, girl," Jenny says, grinning.
"Wow, that's really nice," Joe says, admiring the necklace but not touching it. "Is that silver or white gold?" he asks, noting the understated silver colored filigree surrounding it.
"I don't know," Abbie answers. "It's not tarnished, so it's probably white gold. I'll have to get it appraised and insured, probably."
"Definitely," Joe agrees.
"I just hope it will work. I mean, it was his mother's, not his," Jenny says.
"Well, it was in his pocket for 235 years, so…" Abbie points out. "Spent more time with him than her."
"Fair enough," Jenny allows. She picks up the book again.
"What else do we need?" Joe asks. He grabs a fresh piece of paper.
"A black candle," Jenny says, scanning the page.
"Seriously?" Abbie asks.
Jenny grins. "Not really. Doesn't have to be black. Just a candle. Probably for a point of focus or something." She pauses a moment and adds, "I think we should make sure it's real beeswax though. We need to think of things that would have been available to Franklin."
"Good call," Abbie agrees. "What else?"
"Well, it looks almost like a séance. And it has to be done at a meaningful time, whatever that means." Jenny furrows her brow.
"Full moon? Um, Halloween?" Joe suggests.
"Maybe," Abbie says, pacing now. She frowns, not wanting to wait until Halloween. When she realizes her hands are clasped behind her back and she is bent slightly forward, she stops. Jeez, I'm picking up his mannerisms now. She looks at her hands, wondering if her fingers were fidgeting. "The anniversary of his… almost-death, I guess, is coming up. I think that might be pretty meaningful."
Jenny picks up her phone. "What's that date?" she asks.
"July 28," Abbie answers. "What are you looking at?"
"Awesome," Jenny says. "The 28th is a full moon. Win-win."
"You have a moon phase app?" Abbie asks.
"It actually comes in handy in my line of work," Jenny says. "Don't ask."
"I wasn't going to," Abbie replies. "Okay. Okay. What else?"
"That's it," Jenny says. "We recite this… thing… over his body – which we still need to find – and focus our energy on the candle's flame. The candle needs to be over him."
"Do we, like, hold hands?" Joe asks.
"Yep."
"Are the three of us going to be enough? Should we ask Frank, Ash, and Seamus to come?" he asks.
"No," Abbie says. "We've asked enough of them, for one thing. Also… I'd just rather not. If Crane thinks we need more, he'll tell me, but I think the three of us will be enough."
"This seems too simple," Joe says, suspicious.
Jenny flips back to the previous page. "Let me double check. It says 'token of the subject' - that's the necklace. Candle, check. Time, check." She peers at the page. "Abbie, can you read this?"
Abbie takes the book and looks at the scrawled handwriting. "Looks like 'One who is connected'."
"What does that mean?" Joe asks. "Connected to what?"
"The spirit world?" Jenny suggests. "Maybe we need Frank or Seamus after all."
"Him," Abbie says. Joe and Jenny look over and see that her eyes are closed. She opens them. "Connected to Crane. I bet Franklin was going to have Katrina involved in reviving him."
"And when she died, he probably figured it wouldn't work," Jenny theorizes.
"Or when she married his best friend," Abbie says. "And his son would have been too young."
"What? She married his best friend?" Joe asks. "Wow."
"Yeah, kind of shady, right?" Jenny comments.
"How soon after he died did she shack up with him?" Joe asks.
"I don't know; it wasn't in Reverend Knapp's log book," Abbie says.
"Abbie," Jenny says, turning to her sister. "Is your connection with this guy strong enough to bring him back to the land of the living?"
Abbie thinks for exactly two seconds before answering, "It's strong."
It's the closest she's come to admitting the truth of her feelings.
xXx
Abbie and Jenny had already planned to go out to try and find Crane's resting place today, but what with finding the journal and the "meaningful time" approaching, they now need to find where he is. So after Joe left for work, they head out into the forest.
"This is a really good map," Jenny says, studying it as they walk. "Seamus is wasting his talent selling cars."
"Seamus is wasting none of his talents, believe me," Abbie counters. "How far is it?"
"Not very, from the looks of things. Hey, do you own all this land?"
"Um, yeah, I think so. The house came with several acres," Abbie answers.
"Look at you, fancy land owner," Jenny says. She goes quiet a second, then says, "I should have my trailer moved out here instead of paying for my spot in the trailer court."
"Be my guest," Abbie says, liking this compromise to her invitation to have Jenny move in. "We'd have to do something about getting you electricity and water – and no, you are not going to run extension cords from my house."
Jenny stops and gives her sister an exaggeratedly innocent look, then starts walking again, whistling "Be Our Guest" from Beauty and the Beast.
They quietly walk through the forest for several more minutes, then Jenny abruptly stops. "Does this look familiar?"
Abbie steps up beside her sister and her eyes widen. "Those are the trees," she says, her voice hushed. She slowly walks across the clearing, half expecting to see their bench sitting where it is in her dreams. "This is the place."
Jenny walks into the center. "It's cooler here."
"Yeah, I noticed that, too," Abbie agrees, looking around for any holes or caves. "Where are you, Crane?" she whispers, slowly walking around the perimeter while Jenny inspects the ground in the clearing, looking for hidden trap doors and the like.
When Abbie reaches the trees, her skin tingles and the hair on her arms stands up. She sets the battery-powered lantern she brought along down at the base of one of the trees and rubs her arms. "You're close," she whispers. "I know you are."
"Find something?" Jenny's voice makes Abbie jump.
"Not sure yet," she answers, turning. "I… I think he's close though." She walks around the white trees, looking at each one for some sort of clue. The last one has something scratched into the bark. "Jen. What does this look like to you?"
Jenny comes over. "Looks like a bird with long legs."
"A crane," Abbie clarifies. "It's a crane."
Jenny tilts her head. "Yeah. I think you're right. He's gotta be close."
Abbie chooses not to mention her tingling skin and keeps searching. She even goes back to the tree and presses the spot where the crane is carved. Just in case.
She is starting to get frustrated when she quite literally stumbles into a bush.
"You okay?" Jenny asks, jogging over.
"Yeah," Abbie answers, taking her sister's offered hand. "Wait." She releases Jenny's hand.
"What?"
"There's something here," she moves deeper into the bush. "There's a flat rock… a big one."
"Is there another crane on it?" Jenny asks.
"No, but there is a faded 'I.C.' etched into it. At least that's what it looks like," Abbie answers. "Get in here and help me move it.
Jenny walks around to the other side of the bush and crouches down across from her sister. "It's big, but not very thick, thankfully," she says, digging into the ground with her fingers to get a grip on the stone.
With some effort, they manage to shift it enough to reveal an opening beneath it.
"Let me grab the lantern," Jenny says, jogging away. She returns a minute later and crouches down, shining it down into the hole.
Abbie peers inside. "I can't see anything. I'm going in."
"Abbie, are you sure that's a good idea?" Jenny asks.
"No, but I'm going anyway. Stay up here so you can pull me out," Abbie answers, sitting at the edge of the hole. "I'll let you know when you can pass the lantern down," she says, then lowers herself in.
"Well?" Jenny calls.
"It's not too deep… probably 7 feet or so," Abbie says. "Drop the lantern and I'll try to catch it."
"Heads up," Jenny warns, then drops it. It thunks to the ground two feet from where Abbie is standing.
"Thanks. Good thing this is shock-proof," Abbie comments, picking the lantern up.
Jenny chuckles, now lying on the ground above and peering into the hole. "Is there anything in there?" Abbie doesn't answer right away. Jenny can see the light moving around, but her sister has gone quiet. "Abbie?"
"There's a big box down here," she finally says.
"A coffin?"
"Kind of," Abbie answers, not really wanting to think of it as such. She feels along the edges, looking for a clasp or something. "You in here, Crane?" she quietly asks, briefly setting her palm on top of the wood. "Jenny?" she calls up to her sister.
"Yeah?"
"Go back to the house and grab a ladder so I can get out of here again. I'm just going to try to open this box."
"Do you need a… a pry bar or anything?" Jenny asks.
"Nah… if we need tools, we'll need better lighting. We can try later if I can't get it now," Abbie answers. "I'll be fine. But don't dawdle."
"Right," Jenny replies. "You have your phone?"
"Of course."
"Good."
Abbie looks up as her sister walks away, then resumes her tour of what might be Crane's burial chamber. It's remarkably clean and dry, considering it's underground. She walks to one of the walls and touches it. It feels cool and rough, so she holds the lantern closer and discovers that it is stone.
"Benny Frank built you a damn underground crypt, Crane," she whispers, turning back to the box. It is wood, but has been treated with something to keep it from rotting. When she runs her hand over the surface, she finds it smooth and cool. She sets the lantern on top and moves her hands to the edges, looking for some way to open it.
"Aha," she says, finding a flat clasp. She brings the lantern over to take a closer look. It's a fairly simple mechanism, and is not rusted through. She traces the outline of a button set into it, presses it, and hears a click.
She bites her lip and holds her breath as she begins to lift the lid. "Please don't be a skeleton," she says.
Abbie gasps at the sight before her.
Lying in the box, as still as death, is Ichabod Crane. His bright blue eyes are closed, his long fingers laced together on his stomach.
He doesn't appear to be breathing.
But he doesn't have the waxy pallor of a dead body.
Cautiously, Abbie reaches out a trembling finger and touches his hand. She gasps again, drawing a shuddering breath, and covers his hands with hers. They are the same cool temperature as when she sees him in her dreams.
"Abbie?" Jenny calls.
"Yeah," Abbie answers, her voice shaky. She can hear the clanking of the ladder above.
"Well?"
"It's him," she says. "I'm… I'm looking at him right now."
"Oh shit; I'm coming down," Jenny replies, lowering the ladder into the hole. In seconds, she is beside her sister, staring down at Crane's handsome, peaceful face. "Well, hello there, tall, dark, and British."
"Jenny," Abbie whispers, only keeping a tenuous hold on her swirling emotions.
"Yeah."
"He's real. This is real."
"I know. It's a trip."
Abbie looks at her sister. "What are we doing?"
Jenny puts her arm around Abbie's shoulders. "We are going to come back here next week with Joe and a candle and that necklace, and we are going to wake up your boyfriend."
"He's not my—"
"Don't even."
Abbie sighs. "Yeah, I know."
"Okay. So. We know he's here. What else is down here?" Jenny asks.
"I haven't looked around that much," Abbie says. "Was busy making sure this wasn't just some random grave."
"Yeah, how disappointing would that have been?" Jenny agrees. She takes the lantern and looks around a bit. "There's something here, but I can't open it. It's like a drawer or door or something." She looks closer, and says, "Wonder if the key is on Ichy somewhere. Wanna root around in his pockets and see?" she asks, raising an eyebrow at her sister.
"Um, I think I'll pass right now," Abbie answers, walking over. "And I told you he doesn't like that nickname."
Jenny snorts and raises her hand to a curious notch in the stone. "Odd."
"Ever see anything like that?" Abbie asks.
"No. Well, I guess we hope that he'll be able to open it when he's awake," Jenny says.
"If we can wake him," Abbie mutters.
"We will. I refuse to accept failure," Jenny confidently replies. "Largely because I don't want to see you disappointed," she adds in a softer tone.
"Thanks," Abbie says. "Come on, let's see if there is anything else."
The sisters check the perimeter of the small chamber and find nothing else of interest. Finally, Jenny says, "I'm hungry. Let's get some lunch."
"Sounds good," Abbie agrees.
Jenny heads toward the ladder. "Let's go somewhere. You need to get out of here for a bit," she says as she climbs.
"Okay, but only if we get Vietnamese. I've been wanting some phở," Abbie calls. She pauses near Crane's box for a second. "Next week, Crane," she quietly says, then leans down and kisses his forehead. "Um… yeah, I probably should close this."
"You coming?" Jenny calls.
"Just closing the box," Abbie yells, then gently replaces the lid. She kisses her fingers, then presses them to the lid of the box before climbing up and out.
xXx
That night, Abbie calls Joe.
"Hey, Abbie, what's up?" he greets.
"You got a second?" she asks, looking over the list in front of her.
"Yeah, I just got home a few minutes ago. What's going on?"
"I need a favor," she says, doodling on the corner of the page in front of her.
"Sure, anything," he answers.
"Crane's going to need, you know, supplies, once we wake him up," she says. "Would you go to Walmart and pick up some basic necessities? Doesn't have to be tonight, obviously. Just before the 28th."
Joe pauses a second, then says, "Um, sure. But why me?"
"Because you're a guy. You might think of something I wouldn't."
He shrugs. "Fair enough. So, soap…?"
"Soap, deodorant, shampoo, that kind of thing. Whatever you white guys use to, you know, groom yourselves. Maybe some clothes?"
He nods, chuckling. "Yeah, I have no idea what this guy looks like, how am I supposed to buy him clothes?"
"He's tall and skinny," Abbie says. "A little taller than you," she says. "Just… get him some boxer briefs and some sweats and we'll sort it out later," she decides.
"Abbie, I appreciate your optimism, but…?" Joe starts, leaving the question hanging.
Abbie's mouth sets in a hard line and she says, "Keep the receipt then."
