CHAPTER 18

A BIT OF EVERYTHING

"Melanie, you are wakeful?" Ichabod's light rasping on the door brought me from my sleep as the dawn of Friday morning appeared out my window.

"Yes, I'll be down in a moment," I said running a brush through my hair. Draping my robe over my shoulders, I bustled down the stairs and saw Ichabod sitting in the parlor with a cup of tea in his hand staring wondrously into the fire as if entranced by the dancing of the flames.

"Oh dear. You didn't sleep a wink last night did you?" I asked walking into the parlor.

He stared up at me and smiled. Dark circles dented under his eyes and his face was an ailing white. "I'll be fine."

"No you won't," I argued sitting down next to him. "Not if you don't sleep. It's been two days. Your body needs rest, Ichabod. I know it's difficult right now, but if you would have told me, we could have found a solution. I know it's awkward, but I don't think that matters anymore – not to me."

Ichabod looked at me through exhausted eyes and pain gleamed in his irises. "I feel like a boy again; terrified to close my eyes. Terrified of the dark, of the unexpected lurking in the shadows." He whispered trembling.

I couldn't compose myself any longer and a single tear rolled down my cheek. It pained me to see Ichabod this way and I embraced his quivering body. "Then I'll be your light." I whispered in his ear and he gently wrapped his arms around me. "Thank you, Melanie." He whispered so scarcely that I could hardly make out his words.

"The celebration is tonight," I finally reminded him. "John will have the carriage out front about four O' clock."

"I know," Ichabod nodded. "We'll need to find you something to wear."

"What?" I stared him. Perhaps he's really lacking in sleep, I thought.

"Follow me," he whispered and briskly walked up the stairs. I followed closely and he led me to the master suite. "Here," he said pulling open a sliding door revealing countless gowns of all styles, designs, and colors. I didn't think I had seen so many gowns at one time before. "Pick something you like," he extended his arm towards them.

" I couldn't possibly…"

"Something you like," he pressed and I hesitantly walked to the gowns, brushing my fingers delicately over the soft velvets and silks. At the far back of the closet, gold silk caught my eye. I pulled the winter waltzing gown from where it was smothered by other dresses and gowns and my eyes danced magically. "This one?" I asked in awe.

"If it suits you," Ichabod smiled and I could only nod. It perhaps was the simplest gown of them all, but to me holding the gold silk was better than holding gold itself.

"Ichabod?" I asked laying the gown over the back of a chair. "I'll stay here, if you want to sleep for awhile. I'll wake you a couple of hours before we have to leave so we can prepare."

"That would be most kind of you," he said and laid down on top of the green velvet. Before there was time to say anything else, sleep took over his mind.

I picked a random book from the bookcase and sat in the same chair as I had before. Opening the cover to the first page, I tried to concentrate on the words printed across the page, but that proved impossible. I sat there staring at Ichabod and my mind raced far away to places I could only visit in my dreams.

I sat there wondering if anything happened for a reason, and wondered why things had to be the way they were. I wondered why the sky was blue, why the grass was green, why birds chirped, and why I loved Ichabod to the point where it drove me insane. I also wondered if Ichabod loved Katrina just like I wondered if Ichabod loved me. I sat like that for hours and hours – wondering and thinking and running along beside my mind until I sauntered back to reality and had to wake Ichabod.

I shook him gently and whispered his name heaving him from his deep slumber. He gently rubbed his eyes and sat up. The small amount of color had returned to his face and the black circles under his eyes and lightened considerably. "I was afraid you wouldn't wake up," I told him.

"I was afraid I wouldn't either," he grinned that half smile that would have sent me to my knees if I had not been sitting down.

"You look better." I pointed out.

"I feel better, thank you," he said and a few moments later, he ran his fingers lightly through my hair. My heart began to pound faster and faster and I was drawn to him at the thought of his lips on mine. I leaned closer as did he holding my cheek, our mouths angling to kiss. But then abruptly, he pulled back and dropped his hand. "I suppose it's time to prepare for the celebration," he said quickly rising to his feet.

I nodded. "Yes, of course." I stood up, gently grabbed the gown from the back of the chair and left to my room.

I stood yanking at the strings on the back of the corset that hugged my body. Heat of frustration surged through me as I tried to tighten the damn thing. I had been struggling with it for half an hour and every time I'd get the strings slightly tight enough, I'd attempt tie them and they would loosen again. I had almost given up, when Ichabod knocked on my door. "You're coming, Melanie?"

I almost cursed out loud. Here I was in a torturing epic with this dreadful undergarment while Ichabod stood outside my door asking if I was coming. "Actually, I'm experiencing some difficulties," I said struggling with the strings for the countless time.

"Difficulties?" Ichabod asked opening the door, and upon seeing me in nothing but the minimal corset, he quickly shut the door mumbling his apologies.

"It's really okay," I shouted. "I'm beginning to think dressing me is a two person job." I laughed lightly. "Seriously, I really could use your assistance."

Ichabod slowly opened the door averting his eyes towards the ground. He was donned in a black tuxedo and bow tie and his hair was gently combed back. For a moment, I forgot what I had asked of him and just stared at him as if I had just seen him for the first time. "These cords," I finally said softly motioning to the laces on the back of the garment. He looked up at me, his cheeks slightly flushed with embarrassment. I turned around and gripped the bedpost as I anticipated the sudden suffocation that the corset would induce.

Ichabod grasped the cords and lightly tugged at them having little success in creating the rib crunching sensation a corset was suppose to endure. "If you want the proper effect," I said matter-of-factly, "You're going to have to pull harder than that." I gripped the bedpost with white knuckles. "Go on," I said. "Harder."

Ichabod pulled harder and harder and I could finally feel my breath being forced out of my body, my ribs and hips crushing in the restraint, and my bosom growing tight against the thick material. I gasped as I felt my life being squeezed from me, and could hardly breath as he tied the laces. "You're okay?" he asked his eyes full of concern. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

I painfully shook my head. "No," I gasped for air. "It just takes a moment getting used to."

Ichabod walked to the door. "Well then, I'll leave you to your…adjustments," he cleared his throat and left me to dress.

I slipped into the gown, which was extremely easier than the corset, and viewed myself in the mirror. The gown was, was…indescribable. It shimmered when the light hit it, and I knew tonight, with Ichabod, I'd feel more elegant than royalty. I curled my hair into loose ringlets and slipped into my black slippers. My heart was pounding uncontrollably and I wondered how I would possibly survive a three-hour carriage ride with Ichabod. Alone. I ran down the hall, the gown swooshing as I went. I stopped dead in my tracks when I reached the top of the stairs. Ichabod was standing with his back towards me at the foot of the staircase waiting. When he heard the swoosh of my gown as I started to descend the stairs, he turned and looked at me in that same way I looked at him when I first saw him in his tuxedo – eyes dancing in complete love-struck awe. My knees melted into the ground and I couldn't take one more step. I trembled gripping the banister with a grip that would challenge death itself. It was that grip that allowed me to continue down the stairs. When I reached the bottom, I stood before Ichabod and we just stared at each other like life had no ending, like we were both perfectly content lost in each other's eyes for the rest of eternity.

Finally, he smiled. "Shall we?" he whispered offering me his arm. "Yes," was all I managed to say as I placed my hand in crook of his elbow, and together we walked out the door.

John, a top hat resting on his head, waited patiently outside the manor with a gleaming carriage drawn with two symmetrical black shinning drafts. He rushed to the coach side when he saw us, his eyes gleaming with astonishment. "Miss Olsen?"

"Yes, Miss Olsen will be accompanying me this evening," Ichabod explained reaching for the handle on the carriage door, but John's hand beat him to it, and he politely opened it, giving me a hand inside. Ichabod came in after me, and I smiled warmly at him. I noticed the dark rage of jealously in John's eyes as I thanked him, and he seemed to be slightly hesitant shutting the door.

In the next moment, the carriage surged ahead, rocking vigorously with the horses' gait. Not a word was spoken between Ichabod and I – there was nothing to say as we traveled along side the Hudson River north to Beacon, and soon the slight bouncing of the carriage lulled my eyes to drift shut no matter how many times I snapped them open again. I looked over at Ichabod, eyes shut, soundly asleep. I leaned my head against his shoulder, and let the tender thoughts of love and happiness entrance my mind, and it was at that moment, I knew my heart had finally found a home.