Epilogue
Afew weeks passed and the Hadwin parlor was almost a parlor again, if you allowed for the fact that the rug had a permanent population now of blackmarket unbonded strays slowly finding their way.
Mose lay long across the back of the settee like a folded coat.
Lou and Bess had claimed the wood basket together and refused to be parted.
Iris was on the windowsill watching the lane.
Of the thirty-eight strays Edgar had brought in from the lawn that night, fourteen had already gone home with witches and warlocks who needed and wanted them.
The papers Lazlo had been keeping in his coat had opened a great many doors.
Rhoda had been writing letters since the morning the vault had given up its records.
Some of the bonds had taken at once. Some were still being mended.
The rest of the strays were here on the rug, in no hurry to be anywhere, and welcome to stay.
Rhoda Hadwin sat in her wing chair by the fire with Quill across her lap and a clipboard balanced on the arm.
Honey perched on the worn red ottoman at her feet with the registration book open across her knees and the good ink uncapped on the small side table.
In Rhoda's lap, looking up at her with two careful yellow eyes, was a thin grey queen.
"Slow, sweetheart," Rhoda said. "There's no rush."
The grey queen drew in a breath. "Smoke."
Honey wrote it down. From the porch railing outside the open front window came an indignant squawk.
"Sugar," Dean Martin announced. "Incoming."
"Oh my, I wonder." Honey set the book on the ottoman and stood up.
Roam O'Reilly came up the front porch steps two at a time. He came through the front door with the brass bells barely rocking on their cord, crossed the front hall, and came into the parlor. The cataloguing flick of the panther's blue eyes swept the room but didn't, this morning, stop.
"Mornin', where's Edgar?" Roam furrowed his brow.
"Out back." Honey squinted. "Morning to you, too. What is going on?"
"Nothin'," He looked at Honey for a half a second and his eyes were already going past her toward the back of the house. "I'll be back."
"...Roam?" She huffed but he was already gone.
He was through the dining room. The back door clicked shut.
Honey stood with one hand on the back of the settee.
"Well, that was weird, right?" Honey asked her mother.
Rhoda didn't look up from Smoke. Her thumb moved gently across the grey queen's small head. The smile coming up at the corner of her mouth was a smile she'd been holding in her pocket since breakfast.
"Oh, he's probably just got some new thing to talk to your dad about. Don't fret. We have work."
Honey lowered herself onto the ottoman and got back to their task.
Out back, Edgar was on his knees in the dirt with his hands at the base of a tomato plant.
A roll of twine lay on the ground beside him.
A wooden stake stood pushed in next to the plant, and Edgar was tying off the main stem to the stake.
He heard the back door close and Roam's boots cross the porch boards.
"Edgar." Roam breathed out.
Edgar finished his knot. He cut the twine with his pocket knife, pushed off his knee, brushed the dirt off his hands on the front of his work pants, and turned around in the row. "Mornin', Roam. What can I do you for?"
Roam stood at the head of the row with his shoulders square and his hands at his sides. "Edgar. I have to ask you a question."
Edgar Hadwin smiled. It was the smile of a father. "Go on, son."
"Sir. Edgar. I'd like, with your blessing, to ask Honey to be my wife."
Edgar drew in a breath and let it out. He crossed the row in two steps and put his hand on Roam's shoulder. He held it there. "I thought you'd never ask."
"…sir." Roam wrinkled his brow.
"You take care of my girl. You let her take care of you. That's the whole of it."
"Yes, sir." Roam paused. "Is that a yes, sir?"
Edgar chuckled, "Yes! You got the ring?"
Roam laid his hand once on his coat pocket. He didn't take it out.
"That'll do." Edgar squeezed his shoulder once and let go.
"Yes, sir. Thank you." Roam turned back to the house.
Edgar watched the back door of his own house close behind a young man who'd soon become the son he never knew he wanted or needed.
That night. The porch lantern was lit. The November stars were sharp.
The wraparound boards had been swept that afternoon, and the wisteria along the railing had gone dark and woody for the season.
From the lawn below the porch came no callers and no cats, just the wind off the oaks.
Honey Hadwin stood at the porch railing with her sweater pulled tight around her shoulders.
Roam O'Reilly stood beside her, a shoulder's width away, his blue eyes drifting across the tree line in the dark as they always did.
He hadn't spoken since dinner.
"Roam."
"Honey."
"You haven't said three words practically all day." Honey twisted her curls in her fingers, "is there something wrong?"
"I haven't." Roam said. "No. Nothing is wrong."
"You were smilin' at the table." Honey said.
"I was."
"At your plate." Honey laughed.
"At my plate." Roam questioned.
"Yes, Roam O'Reilly. What is going on?"
He turned to her. The blue of his eyes in the porch light was the watchful blue, and underneath it tonight was something Honey hadn't seen there before.
Something he'd been carrying all day. He reached into the inside pocket of his coat.
He brought out the small thing. The Claddagh ring caught the porch light.
Two small hands cradling a heart. A crown above. The gold worn soft at the band.
"Honey Hadwin."
"Yes." She squealed.
"…I haven't asked yet." He laughed.
"I know but I'm saying yes." She nodded.
"Sweetheart, will you let me…"
"I'm sorry. Yes. Please go ahead." Honey smiled.
Roam laughed once more, low in his chest. He took her left hand. "Heart in," he said.
"Heart in." She said.
He slid the Claddagh onto her finger with the heart pointing toward her own, taken, in love. He took her face in his hands and kissed her deeply. "Honey Hadwin," he whispered. "I've loved you since the first day I saw you. You are my witch."
"I love you, Roam O'Reilly." Honey kissed him back.
They walked the length of the wraparound porch hand in hand, and they came around to the green front door of the Hadwin house with its brass knocker and the three little bells inside, and Roam lifted the brass knocker.
"Roam," Honey whispered. "This is my house."
"I know." He smiled.
"I live here. We can just go inside."
"Not yet."
She started to laugh and then she stopped, because Roam was looking at her the way that made her quiet.
"A lot of people have crossed this door this season," he said. "I figured your mother could open it one more time."
Honey put her free hand on his arm. He knocked.
Once. Twice. The third was a slow knock; she didn't know how he kept his hand steady.
The latch turned and the door opened. Rhoda stood on the threshold with Edgar behind her with his hands in his pockets and his eyes on his daughter.
The light spilled warm out into the porch.
Rhoda looked at her daughter and Honey held out her hand. The Claddagh caught the porch lantern.
"Mom…"
Rhoda Hadwin's hands flew up to her mouth. Edgar's smile broke across his face like sun coming over a field.
"OH, YES!"
She came out onto the porch and got her arms around her daughter, and then Roam, and Edgar gathered the whole of them in his arms, and they stayed that way for a long warm moment in the porch lantern's light.
"Come in," Rhoda said into her daughter's hair. "Come in, come in, come in. We're going to have pie."
"We're going to have pie at midnight?" Honey laughed.
"We're going to have pie at midnight." Rhoda said.
They went inside in a small happy procession, Roam with his arm around Honey, Edgar with his arm around his wife.
The front hall light spilled warm across the porch boards.
Behind them, the door swung closed. Before they got halfway down the hall, three small knocks came, polite and unhurried. They all stopped.
"Honestly." Honey said, as Edgar walked back to the big oak door. He only hesitated once before pulling it open.
The woman on the porch was small. Her warm brown skin caught the porch lantern. Her wavy black hair was loose at her shoulders. The man behind her was tall, his western-style oilskin hat tipped back on his head, one hand at the small of her back.
"Edgar Hadwin." The woman's voice was warm and Cajun, and Rhoda was already crossing the front hall.
"Vera. Porter." Rhoda whispered.
"Rhoda, cher." Vera held out her hands. "I got your letter, and had to see for myself."
Rhoda took Vera's hands and pulled her up onto the threshold and into a hug.
Porter waited with his hat in his hand. Vera let Rhoda hold her a moment longer than she might have, and stepped back.
Her ebony eyes went past Rhoda. To Honey at her father's shoulder.
To the Claddagh catching the porch lantern on Honey's left hand.
To Roam, one shoulder's width behind her.
Vera's smile spread slow.
"Well, cher. I see we come on a fine night indeed."
"How did you…" Honey began.
Vera laughed, low and sweet. "I'm a gazer, sweetheart. I been watchin' your line for a long while."
Porter stepped forward and held out his big calloused hand to Roam. "Son. Congratulations. You'll do."
Roam took the hand. "Thank you, sir."
"Y'all come in." Rhoda said. "We're havin' pie."
"Well then." Vera said. "We're right on time."
She crossed the threshold of FACTS & FIBS, and Porter came after her, and Edgar closed the door.
THE END.