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 thatafternoon, 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.
