There is a soft knock. "Hey," Abbie calls, poking her head inside the door to Crane's apartment before walking fully inside. Crane had buzzed her in a few moments before and was waiting expectantly.
"Abbie!" he exclaims, immediately lifting her off her feet and spinning her around once before very gently setting her down.
"Oh! What has gotten into you?" she asks, giggling as he exuberantly kisses her.
"I have exciting news," he says.
"Apparently so," she assesses, looking up at him. "You're practically vibrating."
He takes her coat and waits while she removes her boots and sets them in the shallow tray inside his door, the snow melting into dirty water and collecting in the bottom.
They are a week into the semester break, and winter has fully descended upon Sleepy Hollow, blanketing it in snow.
He hands her the cup of tea he had ready, and they move to the couch.
"So, what's your news?" Abbie asks.
"No, no, please. Tell me about your appointment first," he says, remembering she has just come from seeing the orthopedic surgeon about her knee.
She looks at him, practically jumping out of his skin like a child on Christmas morning, and shakes her head. "I think you'd better go first," she says, chuckling. "You look like you're going to pop."
"No, yours is more important," he presses.
"Ichabod, just tell me," she insists.
"You're sure?" he asks. She nods, and he grabs a sheet of paper from the coffee table and thrusts it at her.
Furrowing her brows, Abbie looks at the page. Letterhead from Merton College, Oxford. She quickly scans the letter and her heart drops into the pit of her stomach for a moment before rallying and returning to her chest, beating a bit faster than normal. "They want you to interview for a position," she softly says, as though she needs to speak the words aloud to confirm the reality of it. She looks up at his expectant, excited face. "This is your dream job, Ichabod." She knows this. They've talked idly about it; never expecting anything like this would ever come to fruition. He would love to teach at Oxford. She would love to be in the FBI. At least, one of us has a chance to realize one's dream.
"I know; I'm simply flabbergasted!" he exclaims. "I... I wasn't aware they knew I existed," he says. "I mean, yes, I did study there, but..."
Swallowing her selfish feelings, she hugs him. "That's really great," she says, her lips brushing his ear. "I'm so proud of you."
"Thank you," he answers, kissing her soundly. "I haven't responded yet, I..." his voice trails off, the words he wants to say becoming mired in a sea of doubt.
"Why not?" she asks. "You need to call them as soon as possible," she presses. "Christmas is next week."
"Well, for one thing, they are six hours ahead, so it is after ten p.m.," he starts, taking her hands in his, and rubbing his thumbs over her knuckles. "And, secondly, I should like to give this some thought before jumping."
Abbie can't help the sharp sting of disappointment that lances through her when he doesn't list her as a reason for his hesitation. He's probably just excited and not thinking clearly. Don't be That Girl. Be supportive. "But... this is Oxford," she says. "Oxford wants you, Ichabod."
"True," he agrees. "I... I am still waiting for the reality of it to sink in." He squeezes her hands, lifts them to his lips, and kisses them. "Now. What did the doctor say about your knee?"
Abbie extracts her hands to take a drink of her tea, buying a moment of time as she gathers her thoughts. "He's not sure," she says. "They took some x-rays and are going to get back to me about their findings. I may have to go back, but I don't know yet. They're supposed to call me tomorrow."
"Do let me know what they say," Crane says, now softly stroking the backs of her hands with his thumbs.
"I will," she says, lifting his hands in hers and kissing them. "What smells good?"
"Apart from me?" he cheekily asks, grinning. She playfully shoves him. "I have lasagna in the oven. I thought you might be hungry."
She smiles. "I am," she answers. "Please tell me you have good bread," she adds, looking up at him as he stands. She starts to stand as well, and he places a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"I do, and you stay put," he says, bending to kiss her upturned face. "Do you need anything? Tylenol, ibuprofen...?"
"I'm good, thanks," she answers, settling back against his comfortable couch with her tea. He caresses her cheek once, then strides to the kitchen to finish making dinner.
Abbie sits, contemplating her tea, staring down into the half-empty cup, gently swirling the contents, watching the stray leaves in the bottom float around and settle. Just how I like it. Extra sweet, even though Ichabod calls it heresy. He takes his with just a splash of milk which I think is weird. She smiles ruefully, wondering if she'd ever get him to try sweet tea. I'll have to take him down South sometime.
She looks over at the coffee table intending to reach for the TV remote, but her eyes fall on the letter from Oxford.
Or, perhaps not.
She sets her cup on the saucer – always a saucer, never a coaster, not for tea – and picks up the letter, reading it again.
He might actually leave. And, he didn't even ask...
You've only been dating three months. Why would he ask you to go with him?
You're also overreacting. It's not a job offer. It's an opportunity to interview for a position. He'd be up against God only knows how many other candidates.
He's the best though. They'd be stupid not to hire him. Not only is he brilliant, he's got name recognition. Abbie sets the letter aside, letting her head drop back against the cushions. She closes her eyes. He went there. His father went there and sends donations regularly.
He may as well start packing.
Crane pokes his head out of the kitchen. "Will you be staying over?" he asks.
"I don't know," Abbie truthfully answers, lifting her head. "I came straight from the doctor and don't have anything along." She has a toothbrush and some very basic hair products and tools here, and had been meaning to bring over a few more items to keep at his place, like some pajamas, a head scarf, and some lotion that smells good (his is basic and unscented). She hadn't yet gotten around to it.
"Oh," he answers, valiantly trying not to look too disappointed.
Abbie bends. "I could... run home and come back," she suggests.
"Only if you wish to do so, my dear. Do not let my petulance over the prospect of your absence influence your decision," he says, stepping into the living room, wiping his large hands on a towel.
"You were hardly being petulant, Ichabod," she says. "I don't live that far away and the weather is quiet, so it's not that big a deal." It would be nice if he would just ask me to stay if that's what he really wants.
"Whatever you decide is fine with me. Honest," he reiterates, bending to kiss her. He straightens and holds out his hand. "Dinner is ready."
She takes his hand and stands. "I would actually love a hot bath after dinner," she sighs.
"I think I could arrange for one to be waiting for you upon your return," he says. "Should you decide to return, that is."
Abbie manages a smile. "That would be nice," she says, following him to the kitchen.
xXx
"Hey, how's the knee?" Jenny asks.
Abbie started dialing her sister in the elevator on her way out of Crane's apartment. He suggested she take the time to run home while he cleaned up dinner and asked that she let him know when she was on her way back so he could start her bath water.
"Don't know yet. Will find out tomorrow probably. But, that's not important right now," Abbie says.
"What's wrong?"
"Ichabod might be going back to England," Abbie answers, willing her voice to be steady. Do not fall apart. You haven't been dating him long enough to be devastated over this.
"What? Why? Is he being deported?" Jenny asks, shocked.
"He got a letter from Oxford University. They want him to interview for a position that'll be open next fall," Abbie explains. She goes on to tell her sister the details, including how excited he was over the prospect.
"Take his Christmas present back," Jenny says. Abbie can hear her scowling.
"Not helping," Abbie says.
"Sorry. Look, you said it was just an interview, right?" Jenny asks.
"Yes."
"So, no guarantee he's leaving. Also, how long have you been dating? Two months? Three?"
"Three."
"And, you're expecting him to give up what you say is his dream job to stay here?"
"No! I'm not expecting that at all! I just... I guess it would have been nice to know I was at least in the overall equation somewhere, you know?"
"Would you go with him if he asked you?"
Abbie stares into the darkness ahead of her. The traffic light turns green, but she doesn't move. Behind her, a car honks. She startles and hits the accelerator. "I don't know," she answers.
"Then, why are you freaking out?"
"I'm not freaking out!" Abbie yells. "Okay, maybe I'm freaking out a little bit." She pulls into her parking lot. "Why am I freaking out?"
"Because you're stuck on this guy, and I don't blame you. He's great," Jenny answers.
"Again, not helping."
"Look. Let's try to be logical, shall we?" Abbie snorts a laugh, and Jenny joins her. "Yeah, I know, role reversal, right? Just… let me put my counselor hat on with you for a minute."
"Hit me with your logic, but make it quick if you can," Abbie says. "I'm home to grab some stuff, and then I need to go back over to his, so I'd like to have my brain in some kind of order before I get back there."
"You're staying over?" Jenny asks, slightly incredulous.
"Jenny. Focus."
"Right. Logic. Maybe... maybe he's waiting until he knows for sure. Like, he doesn't want to ask you and get you all worked up about going, only to learn later he hasn't gotten the job."
"That's… that's a pretty good point, but… is it so wrong to want to be wanted? Regardless of the outcome?" Abbie says.
"Then, why don't you just ask him? Ask him how he thinks this change would affect your relationship? You want to be considered, so make him consider you," Jenny bluntly says.
"It's not that easy. I don't want to make Ichabod do anything. I would like it to be his choice to ask," Abbie protests.
"It is that easy, Abs. You're only making it difficult because you don't want to deal," Jenny counters.
Abbie says nothing.
"I know what I'm talking about, you know. I'm not just another pretty face," Jenny reminds her. "I are a professional."
Abbie laughs despite herself, throwing things into a bag. "I know," she sighs.
"Also, think about this," Jenny continues, "it's possible he feels he can't ask you to uproot your life just for him. It has only been three months."
xXx
"Bram, Abbie and I have only been together three months," Crane says, putting away the last of the dishes from dinner. "It... it would be asking too much."
"She'd do it, you know," Abraham says. "I see the way she looks at you. She's as hung up on you as you are on her."
Crane sighs. "That isn't the point."
"What is the point exactly?"
"The point is..." Crane starts, falters, then starts again. "The point is I'd be tearing her away from everything and everyone she has here."
"No, you'd be asking her to leave. It would be her choice whether to stay or go."
Ichabod is silent, somewhat stunned as he ponders his friend's words. Perhaps that is what concerns me the most. What if she chooses to stay?
"You're not kidnapping the woman," Bram says. "Are you?"
"No!" Crane exclaims, snapping out of his worry. He moves into the living room to stand at the window. "I would never!"
"Just giving you shit. Damn, man, you have no sense of humor tonight."
"This is no time for levity," Crane retorts. "I need advice, not japes."
"Then, why are you calling me?" Bram asks.
"Because Katrina has been a positive influence on you and I had hoped to benefit from your newfound adult behavior."
"Didn't you just say 'this is no time for levity'?" Bram replies, imitating Crane's accent.
"I am being serious," Crane says. Katrina finally consented to go out with Abraham just before Thanksgiving. They've been seeing one another regularly since then, and Bram's former foolish ways have almost completely disappeared with the help of Crane, Abbie, and now, Katrina. "Bram, I don't have a lot of time. She's coming back soon."
"Okay, okay. Just... be cool. You don't even know you're going to get the job for sure, right?"
"Right." Crane stares out the window. Is that her car? No, that's a minivan. Besides, she said she'd call.
"I mean, they'd be stupid not to hire you, but that's not the point right now. So, go to the interview, and if it goes well, ask her after. If you tank, then no worries, right?"
"I suppose that does make some sense," Crane agrees.
Bram sighs on the other end. "Seriously though, I don't see the harm in simply asking her a 'what if' question, you know? You guys talk about all kinds of stuff, so why not this?
Especially this. "Well, I suppose I could find a way to broach the topic," he allows. His phone beeps and he pulls it away from his face, looking at the screen. "Abbie's calling."
"'Bye," Bram says.
"Hello," Crane greets Abbie.
"I'm on my way back," she replies.
"I will start your bath water," he says. "Nice and hot, the way you like it."
xXx
After Abbie emerges from the bathroom in cozy pajamas and hair already wrapped, Crane quietly tells her he plans to call Oxford the next morning to schedule the interview. Abbie nods and smiles, trying to remain supportive, but he notices the sadness in her eyes.
"Abbie, I… I don't feel it is my place to ask you to leave your home for me," he softly says, attempting to address the elephant in the room.
Abbie's eyes widen a bit. "Are you asking?" she inquires, her voice nearly a whisper.
Crane stills, trying to find the best way to continue, to let her know that he indeed would like nothing better.
Abbie misinterprets his hesitation and blinks back her disillusionment and hurt. She takes a deep breath and steadies her voice. "Isn't that… kind of putting the cart before the horse?" she asks, trying to push through her dismay and remember Jenny's words. "I mean… you don't even know if you're going to get the job."
"Yes, but… if I do…"
She puts her hand over his and gently squeezes. "Go to the interview first," she says. "We… we can't get all hung up on the 'what ifs' right now."
He opens his mouth to say more, but the only thing in his mind is come with me, and he knows he shouldn't ask that now, no matter how very much as he wants to do so.
Later, spooned behind Abbie in bed, Crane tries to be still, not wishing to disturb her rest. But, his mind is whirring. I do hope Abbie doesn't think I'm setting her aside for this opportunity. I only wish I knew how to convey that to her without sounding like I'm expecting her to follow me to London.
I would love it if she would – if I get the job – but I cannot expect her to drop everything for me.
If it weren't for her, I'd have absolutely no hesitation in accepting the job offer should it come. He inhales slowly and deeply, drawing her scent into his nostrils, letting the light citrus aroma of her favorite lotion envelop him. It is as familiar as his own name and as enticing as the rest of her.
If it weren't for her, I'd have no reason to stay here.
If it weren't for her, I'd still be an odd, lonely man with nothing to look forward to apart from finding inaccuracies on the History Channel and attending the occasional poker night with a bunch of self-important men.
What a drab existence I was leading before she fell into my life.
I only hope she can be patient with me until I know more about this job.
I should not dare to hope that I will be so lucky as to gain everything I wish, and yet... I cannot help hoping.
She feels so soft and warm in his arms. They are together more nights than they are apart these days, and when they are apart, his arms feel empty.
Curled in front of him, Abbie is also lost in thought. Jenny's advice floats back into Abbie's head: "Just wait and see."
It's only next week. The letter said they were planning to hold interviews on the 22nd. That means he'll probably be leaving the 21st. That's Monday. Interview is Tuesday, then home Wednesday. I'll know by Christmas.
Merry flipping Christmas.
Then, what? Then, we wait and see if he gets the offer. If he does, then what? I'm not sure I can expect him to ask me to go with him. His hesitation tonight showed me that. Abbie squeezes her eyes tightly, willing her breath to stay even. I'm not going to ask him to not accept the offer and stay here, because that wouldn't be fair.
Do I end things, knowing they'll go nowhere? Do we enjoy the time we have together, knowing it's only temporary and, oh, God, will just make things hurt more when he has to go?
She can hear Crane's even breathing behind her, but is not sure if he's sleeping or playing possum like she is. Is he thinking about the job? About me?
What was that other thing Jenny said? "Hope for the best, but plan for the worst." Not very optimistic, but it might be the safest option.
Abbie hears him sigh, and when his arm tightens around her, holding her closer than usual, she thinks maybe, just maybe, he is more conflicted about this job offer than he's letting on.