Am I the only one who sees Viola Davis as Mrs. Ann? Lol Thank you to Simplytheworst and VocalVixen for the ideas in this chapters. :) Warning: There is mention of the n-word and mentions of lyching. Also, I just created my own website called storiesbyannierra. If you enjoy my fanfic, then perhaps you may like my other writing as well. You can also follow my site's Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram accounts by the same name. Thank you all so much for reading my Ichabbie fanfic from the very beginning. Your support means a lot. :) The chapter may sound like an ending near the end, but there is more to come. Also, I will be updating Hall Pass really soon. It's not typical Ichabbie, I know, but I hope you'll also be a part of that story with me. :)
There was a knock on the door as Abbie stuffed the scarf in her suitcase. More than likely it was Mrs. Ann.
"Come in."
"Hey, sugar. I thought you might be hungry. How you feeling? Everyone's been worried about you downstairs." She walked in with a plate wrapped in foil. She put it on the nightstand.
Abbie sat on the bed. "I'm fine now. Thank you for being there."
She smiled. "You are just like me sometimes. Too prideful for your own damn good."
"I can't you let you spoil me. You've already done more than enough, which I really appreciate."
"Let someone else take care of you, honey. It's okay. I've had to learn that, too." She found a spot beside her. "That was your first time, wasn't it?"
Abbie swallowed, trying get rid of the swinging bodies and the small bundle below their feet. They stayed with her.
"I know, baby, I know. Come here." She patted her lap.
Abbie laid her head on Mrs. Ann's thighs while she brushed back her hair and hummed.
"My Mama used to do this. You remind me of her."
"She raised a strong, smart, and beautiful daughter."
"Thank you. I don't know how I would've made it this weekend without you, Mrs. Ann."
"I'm here for what you need, Abigail."
She let herself get taken care of.
Abbie and Mrs. Ann joined the rest of the family members and family friends downstairs. People still arrived. As Abbie rewarmed her plate in the oven, Stella, Carter, and Mr. Sam gave her hugs and asked how she was. She was a little embarrassed by all the attention, told them she was slowly trying to process it. They understood.
While her food cooled, she called Jenny.
"How was today? How are you feeling?"
"It was...alot. I'm pretty overwhelmed."
She wouldn't tell her sister about "them." Jenny didn't need to be worried about her.
"I'm sorry."
Suddenly, Abbie wanted to return to their crammed apartment that smelled like sugar and seasonings. She wanted to hug her sister as tightly as she could and gorge herself on her peppered meatloaf and sweet bread.
"Me, too. How was your day?"
"Pretty quiet. Corbin called to check in."
"Did he say when you can go back to the shop?"
"He said to lay low for a couple of weeks."
Jenny baked from home and sold cakes and cookies when this happened. Corbin had another worker, Eric, pick up and deliver her goods to the shop. He also sent him with Jenny's pay for the week. Each time Jenny baked, she had tons of leftovers. She sold them to their neighbors, who greedily bought all she had.
"You're going to make me puffy again."
The downside of Jenny baking was the temptation. Once Abbie tasted one cookie or a small piece of cake, that was it. She ate so much that she gained started to gain weight. Abbie joked that it was puffiness instead of new fat.
Both of them giggled.
"I miss you, Jenny."
"I miss you, too."
"Be home tomorrow, okay?"
"Okay."
They said goodbye and hung up.
Jenny was all Abbie needed right now.
When she sat down, the chatter at the table hushed.
"Why so quiet?"
No one looked at her.
"We were talking about May is all," Mrs. Ann said.
"You don't have to stop because I'm here."
Yes, she was traumatized, but she had to know her story. She had to acknowledge her, to say her name.
"We don't want—"
"Tell me about May, Mrs. Ann. Please."
She sighed, shook her head. "They were together for five months. She was pregnant for four of them. Some people at the store had been watching their encounters. They looked a little too friendly. Word got around. A group of whites took them from their homes last night, and…They brought their bodies here to our neighborhood afterwards to make them an example. "
Abbie wasn't hungry anymore. She saw their bodies again, the ropes, the tree, their b—. She excused herself to the bathroom. Mrs. Ann stood in the doorway as she rinsed her face in the sink and touched her stomach to keep it still.
"I'm fine."
"What did we just talk about, honey?"
She breathed deep, used the toilet lid as a seat. "It's a lot to take in. That's all."
Mrs. Ann stepped in and closed the door. She lowered herself in front of Abbie, lifted her chin, like Mama used to do.
"Can I ask you a question, Abigail?"
Her tummy would not cooperate. Her palms dampened. Her breath quickened. She nodded.
"Are you involved with a white man back home?"
Mama's intuition was sharp. She knew when something was wrong. Abbie never lied to her. Mrs. Ann had that sharpness, too. Lying to her wasn't right, especially after she's been nothing but kind to her. Abbie wasn't involved per se, but her and Crane did interact.
"Not so much like May. We do work together. Mostly, we talk when work is over for the day. He's given me things: a scarf, a book, a handkerchief. There's nothing going on."
"Abigail."
"I know. It's not safe. There are consequences. I don't have any more intentions to engage with him, even more so after….I can't. Plus, I have my sister to worry about."
Mrs. Ann hugged her. "Oh, sugar, if this world were different, then you two could be what you wanted to be. But we know it ain't. Not one bit." She let her go. "You don't need to be nowhere near him outside of work. Since I'm not your mama, I can't tell you what to do. I just don't want you or your sister in any trouble. You hear, Abbigail?"
She nodded again.
"Now, let's get something in your belly. You have to eat."
After filling herself with fried foods and pecan pie, playing a round of spades, and dancing in the living room, she laid in bed. She was extremely sad about May, her family, her lover, and their love child. That sadness, their grief swirled in her bones. There was nothing she could do. Nothing. She couldn't imagine the weight of their loss. Was her mother brought to her knees and weeping when the mob forcibly took her daughter from her home? Was her father begging and begging for them to take him instead? What about her siblings, if she had any? Did they shake with stones of fear as they watched their sister being snatched away? What about her lover's parents? What did they do? Did both pair of parents cry out and stand in front of their children's bodies and a secret grandchild they'd never know? Abbie could only guess how much that severed them.
She wanted to sleep, to forget. Each time she closed her eyes, their battered forms stood in front of her. There was no escape.
Abbie heard another knock and opened her door.
"Hey, sugar. How do you feel?"
"I can't sleep." She shut the door.
Mrs. Ann nodded, pulled her to the bed. Like earlier, they took their spots, and Mrs. Ann said, "Come here."
Abbie put her head in her lap. Her fingers in her hair lulled her.
"It'll be a while before you can sleep the same again. It took me a minute, too. I couldn't do anything but try to adjust. I spoke to my husband a lot. He told me about happy times. You don't plan on telling your sister, do you?"
"No."
"She younger than you?"
"Yeah. Only by two years. I still protect her when I can."
"I understand. You come to me if you need me."
Abbie nodded.
"Sam always sung to me when I couldn't sleep. Would you mind?"
"Not at all."
She sung about the sun and the stars and the moon. About rain and oak trees. The song seemed endless. Then Abbie found herself dozing off.
They woke at 2a.m. to catch their train. Ella and Carter cooked them a big breakfast before they left and gave them hug after hug before they finally bordered the train. They told Abbie she could come back anytime. Not to mention they sent all three of them off with food and other goodies for a couple of days.
She made small talk with Mrs. Ann, but most of the trip was spent trying to sleep. After Mrs. Ann left her room, she couldn't rest the same. May came back.
Mrs. Ann wrapped her tight in her arms outside Abbie's apartment.
"Come by if you need anything, darling. Even if it's for a visit."
"I will. Thank you, Mrs. Ann." She hugged her again and then Mr. Sam.
"Don't forget about us," he said.
"I won't."
He nodded, and they went upstairs to their apartment.
When Abbie walked in, she found Jenny in the kitchen, mixing a sweet. Dad's record player was on. Jenny danced and sung. Swayed her hips and bobbed her head. Abbie missed such a sight.
"I'm back."
Jenny jumped, hurried to lower the music. "Damn, can you warn me?"
"Come here."
They held each other.
"I've missed you," Jenny said.
"I've missed you, too."
It was nice to finally be home.
They sat at the kitchen table, over caramel cookies and milk. Abbie talked to Jenny about her stay: the food she ate, the family members she met, the fun she had, the funeral. She didn't mention May or bring up Crane again. They weren't going to argue on her night back. Jenny wished she could have gone to Georgia under better circumstances. Abbie agreed. After they finished catching up, Abbie showered, unpacked, and headed for bed while Jenny baked the rest of her sweets for pickup tomorrow morning.
She tried to fall asleep in her own bed, but she couldn't. May and her beloved showed up again. She sighed, left her room, and knocked on Jenny's door.
"Are you okay?" she said.
"Can I sleep with you?"
She nodded and let her inside. They snuggled under the covers, held hands.
"What's wrong?"
"Stella's funeral has really got to me. Can I stay here for a few nights?"
That was half the truth, she knew. Telling Jenny about May would scare her and make her concerned about Abbie even more.
"Of course."
When their parents died and when Jenny returned home that night, they shared a bed for weeks. They were all the comfort they had.
Abbie felt like she could relax, like she wouldn't see them when she slept, like bad things wouldn't happen to her and Jenny.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"No."
She kissed her forehead. "Sleep without a care then."
She did.
"What time is Eric coming by?" Abbie gulped the rest of her juice.
He was a black man, an accounting major, and helped Corbin with the bakery's annual report, filing taxes, payroll, etc.
Jenny pushed her cereal bowl away. "He should be here in about an hour."
There was a knock.
"I'm not expecting anyone. Could that be him?"
They both went to the door. Jenny opened it.
"Eric? You're here early. Is everything okay?"
"Something happened at the shop. It's been vandalized."
Abbie thought her breakfast would come up. "Are Joe and Corbin okay?"
Eric nodded.
Jenny hurried to grab their coats.
"No one tried to hurt you either?"
Abbie checked him over for any bruises. He didn't have any.
"I'm fine."
They slung on their coats, grabbed the desserts, locked up, and hopped in Eric's car. Abbie didn't speak to Jenny on the ride over. She grabbed her sister's hand and felt the rumbling anxiety in her chest. The only reason his shop was vandalized was because of what happened when that white lady came in that day. She patted Jenny's hand in hopes that it would be okay, that it wasn't as bad as it sounded.
But it was just as bad. The display window was broken. Corbin swept a brick onto a dust pan as Joe held out a trash bag. There were other bricks on the floor. One of them even broke the glass in the display case near the register. They carefully walked inside. Jenny followed Eric to the back to get another broom and dust pan and set the pastries down.
"What happened, Corbin?" Abbie stood in front of him.
He didn't look at her. "I'm taking care of it, kid. You and Jenny don't need to be here."
She took the broom from him.
"Tell me."
He sighed, wiped his beard. "We were in the back when we heard the commotion. There was note attached to the brick."
"What did it say?"
"I'm taking care of it."
"Corbin."
He sighed again, pulled the note from his back pocket, and handed it to her.
"Get out of town nigger lover or else," it said.
He took it from her. Numbness covered her feet, legs, arms, shoulders. Stella. May. Now, Corbin and his shop. There would never be peace. What could she say? What could he say?
"This is not you or Jenny's fault, Abbie."
She didn't believe him. "You three could've been killed."
"Your job is not to protect me, Joe, or Eric. I promised your parents I'd watch after you two. That's what I intend to do. Don't worry about us. I'm more concerned with you and your sister."
"Jenny won't be able to come back to the shop, will she?"
"No. It's only for safety. Don't worry about her job. I'll be certain she's taken care of. She'll just have to work from home. I'll make sure Joe and Eric are safe, too. I'm going to close the shop for a couple of days, at least until we can prepare the damage. I'll sell from my cart."
She was relieved to know Jenny would still have income, but she didn't like that everyone had to be on their guard even more. In fact, she wanted Corbin to close the shop completely and thought to tell him as much. There wouldn't be a point though. He was stubborn. He wasn't about to let anyone run him around.
"Thank you, Corbin. Be careful."
He patted her shoulder. "We will, kid. We will."
She had forty-five minutes to get to work. Until then, she stayed to clean up. They weren't expecting a customer to walk in, since the display window was ruined. Normally, that was a sign to steer clear. Someone didn't get the warning.
"My goodness. What on earth occurred?"
Abbie looked up to Crane, with his mouth agape and head twisting in all sorts of directions. She didn't really know how she'd handle seeing him again when she returned. He'd want to talk to her, ask her about Georgia and its ripe peaches and its Southern charm and cuisines. She figured she'd tell him once and for all that they couldn't be friends, that this would be the last discussion they had.
Corbin gave him a run down. "Is everyone alright? I'm terribly sorry this has happened to your shop, sir. If there is anything I can do to help, please do not hesitant to ask."
"Well, in that case, grab a broom. Some by the register."
She met his eyes. He briefly nodded and smiled. She didn't respond and just swept. Jenny returned with more trash bags. She stopped walking when she noticed Crane, who gave her the same greeting. Jenny also ignored him and flicked her eyes toward Abbie. Her attention was still on her broom.
Abbie was able to still leave for work on time. She said goodbye to everyone in the front, except Crane. Jenny wouldn't bother to acknowledge at her when she walked toward her. Abbie huffed and turned her back.
She stood outside for the trolley. At first, she was alone. That was until she saw Crane stand beside her. He tried to smile at her again, and his eyes glanced at her bare neck, where his scarf should've been. She turned her head in the other direction. Yet, his eyes still curled into her skin, even as the trolley pulled up, even as she hopped on, even as he couldn't see her the further she went.
Of course, she avoided him as much as she could at work. If they crossed paths, she kept her eyes down and hurried off. After her parents and what happened with Jenny, Stella, May, and Corbin's shop, there was no way her and Crane could even think about a friendship. It wasn't possible with the world they lived in. She could die. He could even die. Her sister could die. There were so many glaring reminders.
When the library closed and it was only the two of them, Abbie sensed him staring at her again, asking what his lips wanted to: why wasn't she speaking to him?
She didn't look at him. "Crane. We can't be friends or acquaintances. We saw what happened."
Her mind flitted to May and Stella again. The shop.
"You are correct. As I stated before, I would never want to put you, or your sister even, in harm's way. I won't ever deny your safety for my own selfishness. Unfortunately, it seems as though our communication must forcibly end. I did rather enjoy our discussions." He paused. "You may keep my book."
She finally looked at him. "I wish things were different, Ichabod."
"As do I, Abbie. As do I."
She kept her gaze on him, remembering the dark navy in his jacket, his dancing fingers, his lean posture, his thin lips, his brown beard and kind blue eyes, his honey voice. She thought of what she wanted them to be if they had the chance. They'd probably argue a lot of over Romeo and Juliet, compete in chess, one-up the other with witty responses.
"We would've been quite the pair." She smirked and heard the trolley.
He smiled at her. "I'd say so."
Dinner wasn't on the table when she got home. She sighed, knowing Jenny was mad again. Other than convince her nothing was going on with Crane, there was nothing else Abbie could do. Jenny didn't have a choice but to trust her.
After she ate and showered, she knocked on Jenny's door. They didn't speak when she opened it. Jenny stood aside to let her come in. They didn't hold hands under the covers. Jenny didn't kiss her forehead and tell her to sleep well. All she did was turn her back. Abbie got half of sleep that night.