Notes: Hi All! This chapter is ridiculously late because after I read it, I thought it would flow better with the next set of chapters, which were almost complete, but I just couldn't find a minute to give them. This chapter was long so I had to split it, I will post chapter 26 today :-) I know you're all like mm hmm where have I heard that before, but I'm for serious this time. lol. Chapter 27 is nearly finished as well but I may divert my attention to this quick little one-shot I've been kicking around in my head. Thank you so much for reading, and commenting, all the love and feedback, all of it is useful, and I appreciate it.
The next day Abbie sat in front of Irving's desk trying her hardest to plead her case.
"Light duty Mills." He said setting a stack of folders aside.
"Captain," She stated leaning forward, "I was going to tell you within an appropriate time frame, to be honest I planned upon asking for a special assignment today. That being said, Jenny had no right disclosing my medical information."
"Appropriate time frame?" He repeated suggestively. "Like how appropriate, were you going to notify me when you told Crane?" He questioned in a sarcastic tone. Jenny was freaking dead.
Abbie's fingertips found the edge of his desk as she continued on through restrained irritation. "Sir, with all due respect Ramirez didn't go on light duty until midway through her second trimester, I was thinking perhaps"
"—Light. Duty. Mills." He repeated leaning back in his chair. "Or there's always disability." He offered.
"I'm not disabled, I'm pregnant." She snapped.
Irving rested his elbow on his desk donning a wide smile. "I know I still can't believe it, Uncle Frank, I'm so excited. What do you want, another boy, or a girl?"
"I want to work," Abbie said in a slow firm voice, "and you are not treating me as other employees who are similarly situated. That's discriminatory." She declared, looking on as he returned his attention to the papers he was organizing.
"Do you need the forms to file a complaint? I can have Judy bring them in." He offers unfazed by her protest. A scowl overtakes Abbie's face, she sits back, fingers clasped upon her lap. He looks are her tight lipped expression, and pauses from his task.
"Listen let's be honest, Ramirez's detail was light duty in and of itself. There was no danger there. Your job duties are something completely different. I know you don't want to risk the baby, and I know your don't want to cause risk to your fellow officers."
"Of course not." She agrees, "Which is why I was going to ask for special assignment. But I want to be useful. What I do not want is to sit around all day answering phones and taking messages."
"Somebody has to answer phones and take messages, we all can't kick in doors Mills." Irving sighs, and then eases up noting the disappointment across her face.
"Okay look, we have some cases that have gone cold. You can take them over, get with the detectives who were working them, see if there's anything they missed, any breaks you can uncover."
Abbie's heart pounded with excitement as an enormous smile stretched across her face. "Excellent, this is a wonderful idea! Thank you sir!" She said raising from her seat. "And I want you to know that I'm going to do my best to bring some resolution to these cases." She grinned, before starting out of his office.
"Mills."
"Yes." She answered turning around from the door.
"All of your investigating is to be done here. You come into the station in the morning, and you do not leave the station until it's time to go home. Further when you go home, go home. I don't want you on the streets tracking down any leads whatsoever. If you happen to come across a lead that requires following up, you will immediately delegate that responsibility to one of the detectives. If I get wind that you disobeyed any of these orders, I'm putting you on suspension, you're dismissed."
Abbie frowned in reaction to the conditions piled upon her new duty. "Yes sir." She replied tersely before heading out of the door. She already dialed Jenny by the time she reached her office.
"Are you serious?"
Jenny took a break from the application she was filling out. "I see you talked to Frank."
"You are an asshole, you know that?" Abbie said plopping down at her desk.
"So I've been told." Jenny sang.
"Do you have any idea what kind of space this puts him in with regard to Crane, what kind of space this puts me in, they're friends Jenny. What would possess you to tell him?" Her tone scornful as she spoke.
"Relax, I told him not to say anything, and besides, maybe it'll be good if he does." She mutters under her breath.
"Are you on drugs? Really, help me get to the level of high you have to be in order to think that would be a good idea."
"Bells, I know that you said he didn't think it was a good time and all, but he loves you and he will come around. I know that you're worried about his reaction, you said yourself you're afraid that if you tell him and he isn't happy, or he hesitates you would feel…"
"—Crushed." Abbie filled in. "I know what I said, and I know what you think, we've been through it, but I need to give him a minute, because the last time I talked to him it sounded to me like he needed one." Abbie pointed out.
"Jenny." She sighed into the phone, speaking through a level of exasperation and defeat that her sister wasn't accustomed to hearing in her voice.
"A lot of the times that people get hurt, it's because they're surprised by things that really shouldn't be a surprise at all. He told me how he felt, do you understand that…he told me."
"I hear you, I do." Jenny acknowledged immediately feeling horrible for her sister's predicament. "I'm just saying it's such a huge thing to keep secret, and it can't be good for you. I'm worried about you. If someone did tell him, it would alleviate a lot of your worries. You wouldn't have to worry about his initial reaction because you wouldn't see it, the only thing you would see would be his happiness after he had time to realize and appreciate the fact that the woman he loves is carrying his child. Bells, he will feel that way." She said encouragingly.
Abbie sat silent upon the phone contemplating everything her sister had said. Her lipstick covered mouth parted slightly as she thought.
"He would be furious," She decided. "He's already been through something similar with Katrina, and it hurt him deeply. It will quite possibly cause irreparable damage to our trust."
"Uh, you're pregnant and afraid to tell him. The trust between the two of you is already damaged." Jenny observed. "I love you but you're being stupid, your husband is house hunting with a-nother woman. If you want him you need to tell him that."
"It isn't like that."
Jenny laughed. "Is that what you're telling yourself?"
"He doesn't love her Jenny, there's nothing there." Abbie informed her. "He has a lot weighing on him right now, and I need to be understanding of that and allow him a moment to catch his breath."
"Did you have a chance to catch your breath?" Jenny quizzed.
"I gotta get back to work." Abbie stated growing weary of the circles the conversation was spinning in.
"No, I'll answer for you. You didn't have a moment to catch your breath. You guys killed Moloch, his wife and kid returned from the dead, and now you're pregnant. He is a grown ass man, you need to stop trying to protect him from everything, this is life. You know as well as anyone it isn't going to slow down or suddenly get easier, this is it, right now. There will never be a perfect time to tell him." She asserted.
"It isn't only him I'm trying to protect Jenny!" Abbie states, just barely keeping herself from yelling. She sighs calming herself, and lowering her voice. "Sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you."
"Fine." Jenny relented. "Give him a minute. Hell, give him an hour where the baby's concerned, but this whole ordeal of not allowing him to come home…Jeremy is clearly adapting well, so maybe all of those things that happened were just reflective of him coming to this new world. He certainly hasn't appeared afraid, or fearful when I've been around him."
"Or perhaps his development has something to do with his father's constant steady presence, and therapy." Abbie argued, causing Jenny to throw her hands up. Sensing her sister's frustration, Abbie let her know that she did understand her side of things as well.
"I hear you Jenny, and I hope you're right about J." She confessed. "But I just think he needs a little more time, see you when I get home."
A little over a week later.
Abbie pulled into the diner parking lot half-starved on a gray windy afternoon. She'd barely parked her car before Irving rang her phone.
"Are we going to do this every day, it's my lunch hour." She stated.
"Just making sure, I've noticed your lunch hour is getting longer and longer as the week progresses. I'm trusting you." Irving remarks, growing worried she's been hunting down leads.
"I'm not working leads." Abbie replies. "I'm eating, and as long as my lunch hour has been it still isn't long enough to compensate for how early I've been coming in." She adds. "But if you want me back there right on time it's no problem, I could always use the extra OT." She teases.
Irving chuckles lightly. "It's fine Mills, enjoy your lunch."
Abbie stepped through the parking lot pausing to smile at a pair of bright green hummingbirds that hopped and played along the cool breeze. Her stomach growled loudly, causing her to feel immediate guilt. She would have to remember to pack a mid-morning snack for the tomorrow. The oatmeal she had for breakfast had taken her as far as it was going to go, and the last hour at her desk she'd spent more time daydreaming about one of Abraham's burgers, than working. Her face was awash with disappointment when she realized the regular cook was back in the kitchen and Abraham was busing tables. He nodded hello when she walked in and continued clearing the booth he'd been working on. He grinned to himself listening in as the waitress took her order. After finishing his table he popped back into the kitchen to prepare her food the way he knew she liked it.
"You do realize we have other selections upon the menu." He quipped setting her plate in front of her.
"Whaaat," She giggled. She had been craving red meat like nobody's business, and ordered a burger nearly every time she came in which was starting to be every day at lunch break.
"I switched it up, I got a side salad instead of fries, and water." She added tapping her glass. "I didn't get a milkshake this time."
"Not yet anyway." He teased placing a hand on the other side of the booth. "May I?"
"Be my guest." She said, taking a sip of her drink. "Do you want to split some of this?"
"No, no." He declined raising a hand to wave of her offer. "Please proceed."
"I'm sorry I'm starving." She said taking a bite of her burger. Abraham couldn't keep the smile from enveloping his face as he watched her eyes roll into the back of her head and close shut.
"Mmmm." She moaned, puffy cheeked as she chewed her food. A smidgen of embarrassment crept through her when she opened her eyes to find him chuckling at her. She drug her tongue across the corner of her mouth to gather up the splash of mustard that settled there.
"You're judging me." She laughed. "Stop! Seriously this is so good. Mmmph. Where did you learn to do this by the way?" She questioned before taking another generous bite.
"This in particular, is something that I have learned here. Primarily from observing the way Murray prepares it, and adding a few ingredients of my own. However, I started cooking as a boy, I was seven years old to be exact." He remembered.
"Really? Hmm." She noted surprised.
He pulls his head back slightly. "What is it?"
"Nothing." She responded, stabbing a forkful of lettuce. "I just didn't see you as the type with an inclination toward the culinary arts." She stated.
"Because of my previous dealings as a warmonger." He asked sarcastically.
Abbie sat her cup down as she lifted her brows. "I did not say that." She contested, shaking her head at how defensive and guarded he was. "It simply didn't seem like something you would gravitate towards, just in talking to you."
"No I understand perfectly, you view me as the sort who would rip the legs off of a frog for fun, rather than for the creation of a delectable cuisine." He went on, causing Abbie to tilt her head to the side.
"Again, not what I meant." She said, stretching her eyes out. "I was simply saying from the little you've told me about your upbringing, it didn't seem like something you would have been taught."
He can tell now that she meant no harm in her statements and feels a bit foolish for falling into his feelings so quickly. He smiles thinking back upon that time.
"Yes, well in the early going it was very much to my father's dismay," He smiled. "But as with all things he adapted. It helped that in time I became a good enough shot, fox-hunting primarily, that his ego was adequately stroked."
Abbie smiled thinking of another 18th century fellow who'd mentioned he'd spent time fox hunting as well. She wondered if they did so together. "So tell me about it." She says.
"About my father?"
"Yeah." She answered. "About all of it, about you." She's been here enough to have heard a few of his stories, but they always seem to center around his older years, when he first joined the revolution. He never speaks of the time when he was young. A slight wince breaks through his features, as he decides whether or not he wants to share those parts of himself.
Nearly an hour later, Abbie has long shoved aside a mostly cleared plate and is listening to Abraham's stories with delight. Her eyes are brimming with luster, almost as if she can visualize everything he's telling her about.
"Wait, wait!" She exclaims. "You didn't tell me how you managed to get the splinters out. Abraham leans back against the booth, clasping his hand around his glass of pop.
"Actually, Ichabod removed them." He confessed causing Abbie to break down in jerky gasps, imagining Ichabod pulling splinters from his bare ass.
"Why are you laughing, it was terribly, terribly painful, til this day it was one of the most horrid experiences of my life, and as you well know, that is saying a great deal." Abraham frowns, as Abbie stands to head to the bathroom. She reaches over and squeezes his chin.
"Awww Bramble," She teases, gently shaking his chin. "I'm just kidding." She giggles. There's surprise and his eyes, and she immediately drops her hand, worried she'd overstepped a boundary by using his nickname. Her mind slips and she can't really decide what made her think her overly familiar actions would be welcome with someone she barely knows. But she doesn't quite feel that way, like she barely knows him. In fact she starting to feel that he's easier to understand than many of the people she's known a lot longer.
"I'm sorry, I know that's the name your…the name Elizabeth gave you, I didn't mean to overstep…"
"—No." He smiles up at her. "It has been quite some time since I have been called by that name, I didn't realize until just now how much I've missed it. It feels good. It makes me feel…rooted somehow." He decides.
She offers him a closed lipped grin, and pats him on the shoulder before continuing to the restroom. Abraham heads to the kitchen to dish up a serving of the bread pudding he prepared this morning. If she takes dessert, it's usually apple pie, but he's hopeful that she will step out of her comfort zone and give his pudding a whirl, especially since he prepared it with her in mind. When he returns to the table he notices one of her bags has slipped beneath the booth, and in reaching to retrieve it half of the contents empty out. His eyes glide across the leaflets and pill bottles as he plucks them from the floor. It doesn't take long for him to discover the recurring theme through all of the material. The pills are termed prenatal vitamins and though the word is unfamiliar to him he knows that natal is relating to birth, and pre is simply previous to or before.
"Prebirth vitamins." He mutters under his breath. He glimpses down at the leaflet entitled Your Pregnancy Week by Week. "Miss Mills is with child?" He states still looking over the pamphlet.
"The hell do you think you're doing." He hears her voice call from behind him.
"Miss Mills, I was merely—umm." He stumbled, as Abbie angrily snatched the tote from his hands.
"You have no right going through my stuff." She says gathering up her belongings feeling flustered, and violated. She digs into her purse and tosses a few bills on the table, before turning to go.
"Wait, please." He says grabbing her shoulder.
"It fell, I would never…I was only picking it up." He states. "Do not…leave. Please, sit, have dessert with me." He can see a sadness in her eyes that makes him feel all the more terrible. Her eye's meet his suspectingly as she covers much of her frame with the tote she's folded beneath her arms. It's jarring, the way he feels, how afraid he is that she'll go, realizing that if she chooses to, she may not return, and he doesn't know why, but her not returning is unacceptable to him. He has mixed feelings about it, her awareness with him, and he's ever mindful of what transpired the last time he allowed someone to get close to him. She is starting to know him in a way that no one had in years. He's terrified and saddened when he considers that if she leaves, it's plausible that no one ever will again.
"Please." He invites again. Holding a hand out in front of the table. Abbie returns to the booth with a heavy plunk. It feels different than it did a few moments ago. She'd been coming here, using this place, these conversations, almost as some sort of break from her real life. No one knew her here, no one expected anything from her, but all of the issues she made a habit of forgetting about while she sat in this booth had followed her, they'd found their way in.
Everything feels heavy now, the air, the room, everything except for her. A jarring hollowness builds through her insides, and it feels almost like she could up and float away. Jenny knows, Irving knows, but she'd made the argument to herself that they needed to. Abraham did not, and the loss of control she felt over him discovering she was pregnant troubled her. The only thing she could think about was Ichabod.
Abraham studied the faraway expression cover her face. "He's yet to know." He stated. Abbie sat back against the booth and shook her head.
"I was going to tell him…I am going to tell him, it's just…I'm not sure that he wants to know right now." Abbie sadly explains only to look over across at Abraham and sense an anger rising in him.
"It's okay we don't need to talk about it, I know he's not your favorite person." She states.
"No, no." Abraham protests, reaching out to give her hand a quick reassuring squeeze. "You've listened to me babble on about nonsense, surely I can grant you this. It's only…he is so unworthy."
"He isn't unworthy, he's just…"
"—If he has done something to make you feel that he is unable to hear of what should be a most magnificent blessing Abigail, then he is indeed unworthy." Abraham argues. She can see the irritation in his eyes. He gets this little look that she only sees when they speak of Ichabod, and she's noticed on several occasions but never spoken of it.
"You know the way you are whenever Katrina comes up? You take on this tone that kind of denotes indifference. You're never that way when we discuss Ichabod, there's always this underlying grievance, an issue with him." She says more-so with her hands and face than anything else.
"Because I take issue with him, he is a scoundrel, and deserving of my contempt." Abraham proclaimed dismissively.
"I think it's more than that. I think the reason why you don't hold the same detestation for Katrina that you do for Ichabod, is because she wasn't the one who broke your heart…he was." Abraham stared blankly at her for a moment. Throughout their talks there was always this little brightness in his eyes but now every inch of them grew dark. The silence should have been uncomfortable but having placed her assertions in the open helped her to feel oddly at ease through the tension. Abbie held her gaze to his, waiting for his rebuttal. She watched his get his emotions under control until he dismissed her statement with a small smirk.
"Are you going to eat, or merely gaze upon your pudding Miss Mills?" He finally asked.
"I." Abbie starts on a reply ready to press the issue, but forgets it when she notices a familiar black sedan pulling into the parking lot.
"She's back." She says quickly grabbing her plate and drink before scooting to the next empty booth. She quickly ran back to grab her back before returning to her seat directly behind Abraham.
"Miss Mills, what are you doing, get back over here this instant." He pleads.
"Not a chance. Today is the day, you're going to man up and say something to her." Abbie insisted.
"I absolutely will not." He retorts, quietly. "I have nothing to offer, and furthermore, I would never know where to begin."
"Tell her the truth. Tell her that you find her breathtaking, because you do, you stop breathing when she walks in, tell her that." Abbie haggled. "Tell her some of the things you've told me like how you love the way her eyes twinkle whenever she reads that poetry book of hers." She advises, before twisting around excitedly.
"Ooh tell her that you enjoy reading poetry as well."
"But I don't." He said through gritted teeth, watching the woman reach for the door.
"Then lie!" Abbie orders.
"Tell the truth, or lie, which is it?" Abraham asks nervously as the brunette enters the diner.
"Say whatever you need to say, just don't let her get away again." Abbie whispers, turning back around.
Abraham stands to his feet. "Hello Miss Pandora, fancy seeing you here once again."
She approached him offering a shy wave. "I believed you to be employed here, are you not?"
"No, or rather yes of course," He stumbles bringing his hand to his head. "This is actually a temporary station, simply for the time being."
Abbie loudly cleared her throat. "I mean..yes, I work here." He says, wanting to kick himself.
"Oh." She smiles. "Excuse me a moment." Pandora says heading to the counter to pick up her order.
"Ask her to join you." He barely hears Abbie eek out from behind him. He smiles like a madman when Pandora looks back catching his eye. He replies to Abbie through his strained smile.
"If she were interested in staying she would not have ordered carry away. Perhaps she has grown tired of the two of us gawking at her day after day."
"Or maybe she's waiting for you to give her a reason to stay." Abbie replies, just as Pandora returns.
"Well it was lovely seeing you." She said donning an ingratiating smile.
"Likewise." He smiles with a nod, but stops her just as she's about to leave. "Miss Pandora, I realize that you do not know me very well at all, and that this may seem a bit odd, but I was wondering if perhaps you might like to…." Pandora turns her eyes up to his bearing a hopeful smile that melts his heart. What of value could she possibly find in you? He wonders.
"To—to take a few extra napkins." He falters, and her smile slips for a moment before she forces herself to pull it back up. He looks down at her container.
"The wings can create quite an impossible mess." He adds, feeling like a complete lunatic.
"Oh, no thank you. I believe I have plenty." She replied quietly. "See you then." She said with a wave.
"Yes. See you." He states weakly.
Abbie was out of her booth before the door even closed, slapping him in the shoulder. "Would you like some more napkins?!" She repeated incredulously.
Abraham looked down at her with a defensive pout. "The wings are rather messy."
Abbie pops him again. "You're horrible at this."
Ichabod stood at the bottom of the stairs waiting as the boys ran up to Delton's room in search of his epinephrine pen and inhaler. Delton recalled his mom reminding him to get it this morning but somehow he forgot. Ichabod remembered as soon as they grew hungry because Abbie never allowed him to eat at restaurants without having it on hand. Once they were out of sight he crept into the kitchen and stealthily pulled the petty cash cookie jar away from the wall. He tugged the envelope from his jacket pocket and broke the mustard and white strap covering the hundred dollar bills and dumped them into the jar. He quickly followed the same method, separating the brown and white strap from the fifties he'd brought as well. He looked inside of the jar, reaching his hands inside to loosen the bills, and try to blend them with the other currency.
"Ahem." He heard from behind him sending him nearly a foot into the air. He turned toward the direction of the disturbance and raised a hand to his chest.
"Miss Jenny," He breathed somewhat relieved. He straightened himself out, and raised a finger. "This, I can assure you this is not as it appears to be—this is not as it looks." He stuttered, feeling like he'd been caught committing a crime.
Jenny placed to piece of chicken she'd been munching on back to her plate and licked the excess crust off of her thumb.
"Really because it looks to me like you're shoving wads of dough into Abbie's petty cash."
"I.." Ichabod mouth opens a few seconds before words find their way out. He was certain it would have looked as though he were taking money. "You are correct." He answered, brushing his disheveled hairs from his face.
"She's going to know." Jenny said taking another bite of food. "And she isn't gonna be happy about it."
"She need not know lest you tell her." Ichabod stated moving forward. "Is that." The oven timer went off. "Abbie's fried chicken."
"Mm hmm." Jenny said sucking the meat from a bone.
"But she never prepares fried chicken." Ichabod muttered under his breath. They begged incessantly, but in the entire time he'd been with her she'd only fried it three times. First she rarely allowed them to eat fried food and when she did she preferred picking up a bucket instead of frying it herself. As much as they tried to explain to her that hers was far and away the best fried chicken on the planet, she never seemed to really grasp it. It somehow managed to be flavorful, and spicy, juicy, crispy, and flaky all at the same time, eating it, for Ichabod was a celestial experience. He opened up the door to the oven and nearly shed a tear.
"Her homemade macaroni and cheese." A chill slipped down his spine. "Wait does this mean there are…" Did he allow himself to dream?
Jenny shook her head. "In the fridge." She smiled. "I don't see how you guys eat those things, yuck."
Ichabod walked over to the fridge and pulled out the container of greens, and a zip-lock full of cornbread. Abbie always used a mixture, collards, mustards, and upon last occasion she added a few fistfuls of kale greens to the pot. All of which she seasoned and delightfully flavored with turkey wings in replacement of the high fat content of pork. Ichabod peeled open the top, and closed his eye's inhaling the aroma. He'd asked her on one occasion why she never used boxed cornbread as it was much simpler, and he learned rather quickly that Jiffy was a bad word in this house. She insisted the only proper way to prepare it was from scratch, and set it to bake in a cast iron skillet. He could already taste it in his mouth moistened with juice drippings from his greens.
The boys came running downstairs having located Delton's epipen, and found him in the kitchen surrounded by platters of food.
"Smells good. Are we eating here?" Jeremy asked.
"Yes." Ichabod answered emphatically.
A little while later Jenny sat at the table reading, looking on as they finally appeared to be slowing down. She never really understood what Crane did with all of the food he ate, at times watching him eat bordered on grotesques. The boys finished up their food, and were excused to shoot a couple of hoops while Ichabod finished up.
He dropped his final chicken wing bone to his plate and sat back utterly stuffed. A lazy grin grew from his lips to his eyes.
"Absolute perfection, I adore your sister." He stated, with unrestrained conviction. Jenny burst into laughter listening to his greedy ass.
"You're a pig, and I know." She smiled. Ichabod watched as the smile faded, and grew to a sizable frown.
"What is it?" He asked, growing alarmed. "Where is she, is she not well?"
"She's fine." Jenny answered, wanting to say more, but not daring to. "I don't know where she is, we went for a walk earlier and then I went to my interview, when I came back she was gone. Knowing her she's using the free time to run a few errands or something. So how is everything going with you? Abbie says you and Katrina are looking at real estate, you guys buying a house together." She asked.
"I am purchasing a home for Katrina and Jeremy. Not actually with her. She will own it." He answered. "How was your interview?" He asked, changing the subject.
"I don't know, part of me thinks I might get a call, the other part thinks I fucking bombed. You know, there's a lot of things I'm really good at, I'm just not sure that those things will translate into assets that will help me with employment."
"I understand." He says feeling bad for her situation. "Come work with me." He offers.
"Ichy, that's really good of you, but I can't, I don't know the first thing about application development." She responds.
"We are doing more, in a sense. We are embarking upon a task we hope…no we are certain is going to revolutionize education. There is a great deal that you can do to help us realize our goals. Further I need to be surrounded by smart, capable, trustworthy, individuals. You are all of those things, and you are family, who can I trust more?"
Jenny felt sick. She wanted to tell him, he really had become a brother to her. "I don't know, I'm kind of trying to find my own way, can I think about it?" She asked.
"Take all of the time you need, a spot will remain forever available for you." He stated.
"Thanks Ichy." She nodded before standing to head out of the kitchen. "And just for future reference, Abbie only puts ones, and occasionally fives in the petty cash, so the hundred's and fifties are kind of a dead giveaway." She advised.
"Also," she stated walking over to the refrigerator and removing a medium sized container. "Blackberry cobbler," she smiled. "I hid it, I'm sorry." She laughed.
"Miss Jenny!" He exclaimed.
"What can I say I'm selfish, and your bony butt son tried to eat it all up yesterday." She smiled.
Ichabod pulled into the department store parking lot and turned around to remind the boys of what he'd instructed.
"You may each choose a few toys, however take care not to exceed the amount you've available to spend." This would be one of their first exercises in managing the funds they'd acquired from completing their chores. His tone turned bitter. "It is especially of import to bear in mind that tax will be added to your purchases and you will need to calculate the total fee accordingly. I am certain that you are both as outraged as I at the unconscionable levy placed upon goods, it is one of the most unmerited acquisitions of"
"—DAD!" The boys yelled from the backseat, having learned firsthand that once he started in on a tirade about taxes whole hours could vanish into thin air.
"Oh yes." He stated realizing he'd gotten sidetracked. "Shall we take our leave gentlemen?"
"Yeah!" They boys cheered still hopped up on the candy he'd gotten them when they stopped at the gas station. The store seemed pretty busy for the middle of a weekday, he quickly came to the realization that they were having a forty percent off sale. He stepped a few isles over peeking into the sporting goods section trying to give the boys a little freedom to make their selections. Jeremy drifted towards a new remote control car but quickly discovered that he didn't have enough money to purchase it. He instead picked up a cowboy package which included a hat, two toy pistols, and a rope.
"Cool!" He stated staring at the toys. He checked the price, delighted that he had enough and went to show Delton.
"D look at this one. Neat huh?" He asked. Delton smiled at him growing excited.
"Yeah that's pretty sweet. I should get one too, then we can play cops and robbers!" He exclaimed. "Did they have any others, show me where you got it."
Jeremy took his brother to the spot he'd found them. Delton was elated when he found a package with a sheriff's badge, a hat, and a toy pistol. He scooped it up and he and Jeremy headed to the next aisle over to show Ichabod.
"Dad I want this one." Delton chimed. Ichabod looked down at the toy, and immediately frowned. Abbie had stated before that Delton wasn't allowed to play with toy guns under any circumstances.
"Delton you know your mum and I do not believe that toy guns are suitable toys."
"Aww dad please, look it has a badge inside just like mom's, I was going to be the sheriff, and Jeremy's going to be the bad guy. We want to play cops and robbers."
"Delton." Ichabod cautioned.
"Plus you said yourself you had a real hunting gun when you were just a little older than us, please, we'll be extra, extra careful." They both promised. Ichabod looked down at the orange tipped black plastic gun and sighed. It was primarily Abbie's rule that Delton not play with toy guns, Ichabod wanted him to be able to learn everything he'd learned to do as a boy. Much of what he learned about tracking came from spending time hunting with his father. Perhaps under guided care, it wouldn't be an issue. He took the package from his son's hands.
"Give me a moment." He stated walking over to the toy isle to see if they had something that was more orange, and less black.
Jeremy reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out one of the pieces of sour gum he'd gotten from the gas station. His face shriveled and pruned up trying to combat the bitterness as he ate it.
"Oh my gosh D, did you eat your green gumball yet?"
"Uh-uh."
"You have to try it, it's so good, and sooo sour." Jeremy attested.
Delton reached into his pocket to retrieve the piece of candy, and the next thing he knew a large hand snatched the back of his hoody. Both boys froze eyes wide with fear, as the man locked his hand around Delton's arm.
"What do you have there?" He stated gripping his arm.
"Huh?" A bewildered Delton replied. "Um nothing. Just gum. Please, I didn't do anything."
"We'll see about that, come with me." He stated starting to pull Delton along with him.
"Unhand him!" Ichabod roared just as he returned to the aisle.
"Excuse me?"
"Remove your hand from my son, this instant." Ichabod threatened, approaching at full speed.
The man released Delton's arm, and turned completely to face Ichabod. Jeremy watches as the other security agent pulls out a walkie-talkie and calls for back up. He looks at his father and knows it won't be enough.
"Dad." He says nervously, sensing his anger. Ichabod is now standing in-between him, his brother and the man.
"Sir, I am with the loss prevention department, and we have reason to believe that your—did you say he was your son? Well that he's stolen or was attempting to steal merchandise.
"Poppycock." Ichabod spat. "My son is not a thief, he was not attempting to, nor stealing anything." He seethed. "What's more is I saw you watching him from the moment he entered this establishment." By now there's a small crowd of people gathering around including some of the requested backup.
"Sir, sir." The man stated holding his hands up in front of him. "I saw him reach his hands into his hoody."
"Are you suggesting that placing one's hands inside of one's pocket is now evidence of thievery?" Ichabod probed.
"I was just getting my gum dad, honest." Delton said, temporarily breaking out of his shock. Ichabod turned to look at his sons.
"Worry not Delton, I know." He stated, before returning his attention to the man in front of him. "Tell me, did you not notice his younger brother placing his hands into his pocket as he retrieved the same candy that Delton was in search of. Surely at some point he did, his lips are now green, and they most certainly were not when we first arrived."
"Sir, I understand that you're upset, but this is just a mix-up, I simply saw, uh"—Ichabod tilted his head to the side knowing exactly what the man was trying not to say.
"The African American one? Or the black one, is that the word in which you are searching for?"
"No, no, no. Sir."
"Yes. It. Is. At least have the decency to admit it. I want you to inform me of the specific reason for which you were watching my son. The reason why you were so quick to falsely accuse and apprehend him, while ignoring the actions of his brother, which you claim are the same actions upon which you've based your accusations." Ichabod demanded.
"I..I" The man stuttered.
"Tell me what is the difference between them that the one should be watched and suspected and not the other. It cannot be their manner of dress, as all can clearly see they are clothed in near identical fashion right down to the soles of their feet. The only difference betwixt the two is the color of their jackets, so what else did you find different that rendered my son culpable in your infantile brain?" Ichabod growled. He still wasn't over him putting his hands on Delton, and wanted nothing more than to lay him out. Ironically the only thing keeping him from doing so was the same reason he was ready to fight, his sons.
And older gentlemen cut cautiously in between them seeing that things were approaching a boiling point.
"Sir my name is Jim, I'm the manager of the Toy Department. It appears there's been some sort of a misunderstanding, I'm sure Dave was simply doing his job." Ichabod twisted his head and looked at the man with unfurled anger.
I demand to speak with the store director." Ichabod stated with pure ice in his eyes, and fire blazing through his veins. It was only after speaking with the director that some resolution came. When it was all said and done, Ichabod had threatened legal action, realizing that he was in the unique situation of having Jeremy there as almost a placebo. He persuaded them to pull the security footage, and he watched with the director pointing out how Delton was singled out from the moment they entered the store.
"Sir. I'm sorry. We try to follow certain guidelines to make sure that we are not operating in a discriminatory manner, clearly we have more work to do. How can we make this right?"
"To start you can mandate that your loss prevention team implements a method of discovering criminals based upon criteria that does not include their race. That is the only thing that will make any of this right. In fact," Ichabod said reaching into his pocket, "If you need pointers the chief of the Sleepy Hollow Police Department has developed an excellent training program for various levels of law enforcement. Perhaps your organization should give him a call."
"Thank you." He said taking the card. "We will, again sir I am deeply sorry about this." The man restates.
"Don't apologize to me, apologize to my son, both of them, your practices have done a great disservice to, and hurt the both of them. By subjectively profiling and discriminating against the one, you are creating a privilege within the other, and by such, furthering a doctrine of inequity that causes one to feel that he is less than he actually is, while making the other feel as though he is more."
The man turned to the boys seated in chairs along his office wall and apologize for the events that transpired.
"Mr. Crane, I have the toys the young men had earlier. I had the manager of the department send them up front, along with a few other things. Let us get those for you on the house."
"No. That is unnecessary, the completion of what we discussed will be satisfactory." Ichabod refused walking the boys from the office. Once inside of the car Delton and Jeremy eyed each other both of them still wondering a little bit if they were going to get their toys today. Delton spoke up first, as a hesitant Jeremy had a feeling they shouldn't bother.
"Um Dad, are we going to go somewhere else to get the toys because we wanted to play cops and robbers today." Delton chimed.
"No." Ichabod said dryly, just before putting the car into drive.
"But please dad, you said we could spend some of our allowance." Delton pleaded.
"You did say Dad," Jeremy added, protesting alongside his brother. Ichabod's stomach twisted, as he fought to wrangle the myriad of emotions whirling through him. He tightened his fingers around the steering wheel in a last ditch attempt to stop them from twitching, but to no avail. He lightly closed his eyes for a moment trying to gather himself as the boys begged to go to another toy store from the back seat.
"—NO!" Ichabod hollered, causing them to dig back against their seats. He threw the car in park, and turned to face them.
"No toy guns, no real guns, no guns whatsoever, is that understood?"
"But.." Delton started.
"Is that understood?" He boomed sternly when they didn't reply right away.
Thick tears streamed down Delton's face as he replied through gritted teeth. "Yes sir." He answered immediately turning his face toward the window. He kept his eyes cast outside of the car the entire way home.
Ichabod drove in silence feeling terrible for raising his voice, but he was viewing things from a new reality.
Delton was out of the car the second after Ichabod put it in park. He darted up the steps to the front door and made a bee line for his room with Jeremy close on his heels."
Abbie looked up from the basket of laundry she was folding as they whizzed by her. "Hey." She called, but they were already at the top of the stairs. She was on the bottom step when Ichabod came in wearing a face that looked like it held a thousand broken hearts, and she knew something was wrong.
"What happened?" She asked mouth open with alarm, he didn't reply but simply kept moving steadily toward her.
"Baby what's wrong?" She questioned again but he remained silent, keeping in step until he was directly in front of the stairs and she was in his arms. Ichabod leaned forward squeezing a worried Abbie to his body, needing the immediate comfort that her touch provided. He knew that he needed to go up to Delton's room, that he needed to talk to him about everything that happened, but first he had to gather his strength, and so much of it he found in her. At first Abbie begin to grow frantic because of how tightly he was holding her, but when she felt his warm, heavy, calming breaths against the crook of her neck she knew that neither he nor the boys were in any imminent danger. He wasn't ramping up, he was coming down from something, and as much as she wanted to know what that something was she understood that in this moment he needed something to hold on to, and she was it. She rolled her fingers up through his hair, waiting patiently for his nerves to settle.
"It's okay." She said rubbing her fingertips up his back. "It's okay." She repeated having no idea what it was but knowing whatever the case may be they would conquer it together. True to his word he hadn't seen her in a little over a week, discounting glimpses of her walking through the living room as he came to in fro in carriage of Delton. He tightened his hold around her in anticipation of having to let her go. A few quick squeezes later he released her, finally ready to speak.
"What happened?" A glossy eyed Abbie asked.
He told her the story of what occurred at the store, having to stop her on a few occasions from running up the stairs to Delton, before he had a chance to finish. She was needless to say terribly upset by it all. But Ichabod was most upset for an entirely different reason.
"I almost allowed him purchase a toy gun, because when I look at him I simply see my son, my sweet, brilliant boy who loves everyone, and would never, ever cause harm to another." Abbie's heart broke as she watched the tears filling Ichabod's eyes.
"But there are those who look upon him, and instead of viewing him as the innocent child he is, they think he is a criminal or evil, and I almost bought him a toy gun. He could have been killed, I almost purchased him something that could have gotten him killed." Abbie looked on as the weight of Ichabod's words sank into him. "Ergo I nearly killed him today." He stated, nothing more over a whisper, unable to hold back his tears."
"Don't say that." Abbie cried. "If some monster is untrained, and guns down an innocent child they are the killers, not the parents." She stated holding his head between her hands. "But…I know what you mean, and he just can't. He can't play in that way, because sadly as a black male people are already threatened by him." She stated, wiping her tears. "And I can't Ichabod, I already worry so much, and we can't risk that, we talked about this."
"I know." He stated pulling her back into his arms. "I'm sorry." He whispered, understanding in a new way why she had so vehemently refused to allow him to play with such toys before. Ichabod was so upset he couldn't stop shaking. He'd seen the news, read reports of how young, black, men and boys were being slain in the streets, many times by law enforcement or overzealous civilians. Just a few months ago he'd heard a story about a boy only a few years older being gunned down by police whilst playing with a toy gun. None of it made any sense to him, he still couldn't wrap his mind around how a child, who caused no physical harm or injury to anyone was shot and killed, while a grown man who slaughtered a dozen people in a movie theater was led away in cuffs, and given his day in court. Where was the justice in it, he wondered. Even with that knowledge that all of that had occurred, he somehow convinced himself that such happenings were more isolated then they truly were. Perhaps it was his hope in people, in the good of humanity, whatever the case, in doing so he failed to fully grasp that such a reality of it all. To realize how some others would view, weigh, and unfavorably rate his son based solely upon the color of his skin infuriated and frightened him to near unspeakable levels. He stood there fighting to control that anger, and fear, wondering how he would teach his son to survive as a black male in a country that made being such so much more difficult than it ought to be.
After a few minutes he and Abbie made their way up to Delton's room. He spoke first making sure Delton understood that he wasn't angry with him, but rather afraid for him. It sickened him to explain to his sons why everything happened in the store the way in which it did. They were so young and innocent, they didn't see the world that way, and he hated that they had to grow up a little more than he wanted them to that day. When he finished he sat on the bed next to the boys and listened as Abbie took over the conversation. He was in awe of how beautiful she was with them, talking to Delton and even Jeremy about some of the issues that they might encounter in the future, all the while making certain that they had an appreciation of their value, of how special and important and worthy they were. By the time she finished talking to them it was apparent the boys believed that they could change the world. He sat back listening as she imparted to them the same mentality and spirit that dwelled within her. She was a conqueror, and under her tutelage he knew that his sons would become the same. They both held their heads a little higher when she was done speaking. She dried their tears, kissed their faces, and informed them that what happened earlier would not claim this day. "We are going to start this day anew, and make it our own." She promised. Still, the only thing Ichabod could think about was their safety, and he would do anything necessary to ensure it. Paranoia running rampant he briefly considered hiring a security team to keep them safe when he couldn't be present, whatever it took. He knew deep down he couldn't, that he couldn't protect them from everything, and Abbie would never allow it anyhow.
Later that day.
He wasn't leaving that night, Abbie knew it just to look at him. They'd spent all afternoon with the boys. Some of that time spent playing outside, but now they'd moved things into the basement playing cards and board-games. Abbie watched as Ichabod stepped away to inform Katrina of the change in plans. He realized they were supposed to get a move on first thing in the morning, but he assured her that he would arrive with plenty of time to spare.
"But that was the entire purpose of Jeremy spending the night with Miss Mills was it not. So that we could squeeze in as many home viewings as possible." She argued, stepping back and turning to look at the candlelit meal she'd prepared.
"I assure you that we will view every home upon your list." Ichabod promised.
"Also I thought we were to discuss Jeremy's progress in therapy this evening." She complained, hoping that he might change his mind.
"I understand that, and we shall, though I simply cannot this evening." He said cupping a hand over his ear to hear her through the noise of the kids playing in the background.
He glanced over at Abbie, and quickly did a double take after catching Abbie glaring at him out of the corner of her eye.
"Katrina I shall see you first thing in the morrow, have a pleasant evening." He said hanging up the phone. He returned to the family room, and reclaimed his seat on the floor in between Abbie and Jeremy, rapidly scooping up his colorful hand of cards. At first he was seated next to Delton, but Abbie made them change seats after she suspected them of cheating during the third round of UNO.
"If you gotta go, you gotta go." Abbie said faking indifference as she organized the cards in her hand.
"I am precisely where I should be." He replied, knowing she wasn't as unbothered as she pretended to be. "Now, whose turn is it to go first?" He smiled.
Twenty minutes later Ichabod belted out "UNO" with sheer delight. He was threatening to win for the third time in a row. No poker face in sight, he was positively giddy watching everyone play in anticipation of his turn. He flashed a cocky smile at Abbie, already aware that her last remaining card was red, whilst the current color was yellow.
"Do you need to draw a card?" He teased, sliding the deck closer to her. Abbie slapped his hand off the deck and pulled her card.
"Ha." She yelled, slapping down a draw four. "What's up now?!" She boasted leaning in his face.
"Oh wait do you need help drawing your cards, let me help you out with that." She said sliding him four cards from the top of the deck. "Annnnd the color is red." She smiled, doing a little happy dance in her seat.
Ichabod's ears burned of embarrassment, he was certain he'd won, and Abbie would never let him live this defeat down due to his braggadocios behavior. He had to win. He looked to the boys.
"Is there none among you with a wild card, or perhaps a draw two, or four, a reverse, anything?" He felt the sting of Abbie's palm slapping against his shoulder.
"Stop talking across the table, that's cheating." She warned.
"Ouch! There is no table!" He commented, noting that they were all crossed legged upon the floor.
"You know what I mean." Abbie stated before breaking into song. "I'm gonna win-in, I'm gonna win-in, cause girls ru-le, that's right we ru-le." She sang snapping her fingers.
"Uno Miss Abbie." Jeremy said quietly, across from her.
"Oh Jeremy sweetie, you have to wait until you get down to one card to call Uno." Abbie explained gently.
"I know, you never called Uno, that means that you must draw two cards correct?"
Ichabod's eyes nearly danced out of their sockets. "HUZZAH! He shouted as Abbie's mouth fell open. "Well done Jeremy, well done indeed." He cheered.
"NOOOOOOO!" Abbie shrieked, burying her head in her hands as the three of them high-fived each other. She couldn't believe she'd gotten so busy talking junk to Ichabod she forgot to follow the basic rules of the game. It was okay, it was just two cards, all she needed was to play smart, and she could still win this thing. That was what she hoped but somehow within the next two minutes Ichabod managed to claim Uno and go out. She tried to be the bigger person—a little, she said good game, even though her face was torn all the way up when she said it. But Ichabod, being Ichabod couldn't just take his victory, he came for her soul. He was so hyped up he actually stood his leggy ass over her talking shit.
"I believe the correct statement is girls drool, and boys rule!" He exclaimed to a round of cheers.
She hated him. And she was done playing UNO and everything else with him because he was a giant fucking asshole, and a poor sport. Seriously who doesn't even let the kids win, she thought. Okay, okay I was playing to win too, but that's beside the point. She folded her arms across her chest huffing out air, while the kids cracked up at their father's antics. Abbie started gathering up the cards, stuffing them back into the box, while the boys fell over holding their ribs in laughter because of how irritated she'd gotten.
She stood up, and pushed Ichabod out of the way in an attempt to put the game away but he grabbed her.
"Abbie." He tried to say seriously, but couldn't quite hold in his laughter.
"Get off of me." She smirked, casually brushing his hand away.
"Oh Apple, be not discouraged, for there is always tomorrow." He eked out through barely stifled laughter, pausing just enough to hear her tell him to go to hell on her way up the stairs. She did eventually forgive him. After they'd had their fun he followed her upstairs to the kitchen and found her looking for something to get around for dinner.
"Nope." She said stepping back and folding her arms when he tried to touch her. Ichabod couldn't help but smile, she was constantly beating him in sport, it made him relish in victory all the more. She hated losing. He held his hands up as if he had no intention of touching her, but wrapped them around her from behind as soon as she turned her back to him.
"Let go." She requested. He leaned his head against hers.
"Only after I am forgiven."
"Forgiven?" She laughed. "You're not even sorry, I can literally hear you smiling." She grinned.
"I am sorry…sorry that boys rule, and girls drool." He teased, gripping her tighter as she struggled a little to break free. He leaned back, resting them against the counter.
"Fine if forgiveness is too much to ask for I will settle for your admittance that I am unquestionably the most superior UNO player in the history of the game's establishment, in lieu of that, I shall settle upon a kiss, and your captivating company with the boys and I over pizza."
Abbie softly chuckled. "Fine let go." She turned around looking up at his grinning face.
"I'm waiting." He stated smugly.
Abbie started out in a dry ho-hum manner. "Ichabod Crane you are the.."
"—Oh no, no, no. With feeling, and sincerity, I want to feel that you truly mean it." He interrupted bearing a smug grin, and her heart pounded mercilessly as she looked up at his handsome features.
"Ichabod Crane, I want you to know from the absolute bottom of my heart that I have found it to be true without mistake or question, that you…." He grinned widely and raised his chin waiting for her to bestow upon him the requested praises.
"Ain't shit." She stood to her tip toes, and pulled his pouting lips to hers before he had a chance to protest.
"There's your kiss, because I'm not saying that other crap." She mumbled against his lips. Ichabod laughed lightly feeling his heart swell, as he held her in his embrace. She was the only one who could make an insult feel so good. He leaned forward and pulled her into a smoldering kiss, the way he kissed her when he wanted to tell her how much he loved her without saying a word. By the time they broke her ears were ringing, and the only thing she heard were their muted heavy breaths. She was wobbly and his arms tightening around her let her know that he was aware of it. She slowly opened her eyes, taking shelter in his grasp as the room stopped spinning.
His long digits curled into a possessive grasp around her curvy hips. "And yet I have your heart." He said with a quiet confidence.
Abbie sighed, blushing. "And yet, you have my everything." She whispered, sliding her fingertips to his shoulders.
"What is this?" She asked softly, looking up to his eyes. She needed to know that her oldest friend was still her truest, she needed to know that he wasn't still angry with her.
"A truce." He said, quickly adding, "For the day" when he saw the way her face lit up. "Allowing the both of us to spend time together in the company of our son." He can see from the expression upon her face that she is unhappy about it.
Abbie pressed her hands against his abdomen and gently pushed away. "And then what, back to the silent treatment." She asks. "Doesn't seem fair."
"War is not fair." He reminded her, reaching his hands around her and pulling her back. "What comes of the morrow, and every day thereafter is based solely upon you."
She hears him but she doesn't agree. There's so much that she could say. She could tell him how wounded she is that he won't see her, that it makes her to feel that if their bond can't be the way that he wants it to be, then it can't be at all. She could tell him that a part of her feels that had she allowed him into her bed last week he wouldn't have stopped speaking to her at all, and honestly that's what hurts the most. She could tell him that in spite of feeling this way, she loves him more than ever, and still can't figure out how to make her heart be still when he's standing this close, and smelling so good. She could tell him that she's had her fill of war, and even if she hadn't she would never consider waging one against him. But she doesn't say anything. This is something she learned at a young age how to do, to be quiet when there were things she wished to say. The older she got the more she realized that it was just as important as making sure her voice was heard and valued. There were others now, four bright, innocent, eyes, along with equally numbered, deceptively percipient ears just down the stairs, and hers was a voice that along with Ichabod's they would come to hear inside of their heads. She tries to remain mindful of that, just as she's mindful that their little bellies are probably as hungry as hers is, and anything she says of substance will compel a conversation that will place their nourishment on hold. A conversation that hadn't changed since the first time she and Ichabod had it, a dance that had already been set, turn for turn, to a song that never seemed to change its tune. She pushes her feelings down and finds the grace to move past them for the moment. They've been happy today, she wants that to continue.
"This truce you speak of," She cooed slinking her bones against him. "How big of a truce are we talking about?"
Ichabod's brow inched upward. "Not that big." He teased, causing them both to chuckle at his goofiness. Her stomach growled reminding her of her growing hunger, and his hand quickly slides across her belly sending her abdominal muscles jumping from his touch.
"You're half starved." He remarked at hearing the noise. Her heart thumps, even though she's almost positive he won't be able to notice a difference. At least she hopes. At six weeks, she's already feeling horribly bloated to the point that she took off her jeans thirty seconds after she put them on this morning and opted to go with tights.
"Is there something that you would like to discuss?" He questions rubbing his hands up her shoulders.
She flat-lines. "No." she responds, pulse racing. "Why do you ask?"
"You seem…distracted." He states.
"No, just hungry, tired." She replies.
He brushes a thumb across her cheek, before laying a small kiss over her lips. He gave a quick nod toward the door, hands locked around her hips.
"Gather your shoes and purse, and I shall collect the boys." He states with a swift swat across her bottom.
Abbie rose to her tip toes and pecked his lips. "Okay." She smiles gently, leaving him to get her things.