Even though I was feeling night and day better than I had a week ago, I was still a little slower than usual and Finn was like my shadow, fretting over any and everything I did.

  “Mom, I think you should sit while you stir that,” he said, giving me an expression of worry.

  “I’m fine, Finn,” I said for the nth time today.

  Before he could argue, a knocking on the front door echoed from the porch, and Finn and I glanced over towards the kitchen window.

  “Someone’s here,” Finn said as he launched himself off the kitchen stool and walked over to the window to get a better visual of who the visitor might be.

  Whoever was here, they were at least two hours early.

  I glanced over at my son when his whole face lit up with excitement, and I had a pretty good idea who it was even before his excited cry of, “It’s Andre and Ouire!”

  Finn rocketed out of the kitchen, and I could hear the clatter of his feet as he hurried across the old, farmhouse floors to let Andre in. I shook my head but had to smile. It was nice to see him getting so excited about things again. I’d worried that all this magic business would be too much for him, that it would force him to grow up too fast. Monsters and curses and faerie civil wars were all well and good as adult problems, but they had no place in a thirteen-year-old boy’s life.

  He should have been worrying about seeing his friends, and girls and homework. Not worrying about healing people, or whether or not his mom was going to be eaten by an insane vampire and end up in the hospital for a week, and anemic for a month after that.

  I winced at the memory. Finn was right; I hadn’t been careful enough where my own safety was concerned. I needed to do better, for his sake. And I would.

  Those were heavy thoughts, but the memory of my son with his head on my chest as he told me he loved me kept me smiling, something warm and golden glowing in my chest.

  A minute or so after Finn went galloping across the foyer like an entire herd of wild horses, Andre gave a light tap with one knuckle on the doorframe of the kitchen.

  “Knock, knock,” he said, and I turned around and gave him a smile. “I know I’m early, but I rather hoped you might be able to use another set of hands?” I noticed one of those hands was hidden behind his back.

  “Mom can always use more hands,” Finn said as he walked in behind Andre.

  “Hi, Andre, and yes, I can definitely use the help.”

  Finn offered Andre something to drink, and he heartily agreed to a glass of Martinelli’s and then Finn disappeared with Ouire into the living room, no doubt to start working on another trick. And for the first time, I was okay with that.

  “I, uh, brought you a little gift,” Andre said, pulling my attention back to him. It was then that Andre pulled his hand from behind his back to reveal a glass vase full of pine boughs, white Casablanca lilies and scarlet red berries in between them. The creamy white of the petals and warmth of the berries brightened the room immediately.

  “Oh, how beautiful,” I gasped. “Lilies are my favorite. How did you know?”

  He winked at me. “I’m afraid a magician never reveals his secrets.”

  Once he’d set the vase on the kitchen table, Andre walked up to me and gave me his customary greeting of a kiss on either cheek. This wasn’t the first time I’d seen him since I’d awakened in my bed a week ago—he’d come by a couple times since then to check on me and to tutor Finn. But every time I saw him, it felt as fresh as the first time and those silly butterflies never left my stomach.

  “How are you feeling?”

  I continued to stir the gravy as I glanced over my shoulder to smile at him. “I’m actually feeling pretty good. A little stiff, maybe, but otherwise fine. You are quite the healer.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t take much credit,” Andre said with a rueful little laugh. “Your friend Wanda and Finn did the lion’s share of the work. Your son really does have the most remarkable talent for healing.”

  “Yes, he really does.”

  Andre’s smile brought little creases to the corners of his eyes. “Finn is a very special boy. I haven’t seen anything like him, ever. And that, in part, is because of you, I think.”

  Surprised, I looked up at him. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, this. All this.” Andre waved a hand that somehow encompassed me, the entire house, and Haven Hollow beyond. “A magician’s magic is based in hope. Finn is most likely thriving the way he is because of the positive environment you’ve fostered for him all these years.”

  “Oh, well I don’t know about that,” I started but then lost my train of thought as Andre reached out slowly, as if he wasn’t sure it was allowed, but finally wrapped his hand around mine and gave it a squeeze.

  “It is very hard to lose hope when you’re around, Poppy Morton.”

  I gave him a smile as the memory of the faerie circle danced through my head and more specifically, the way we’d fit together, the way we’d moved through the throng of fellow revelers like they weren’t there at all. And I remembered those ribbons of red magic, winding around us, tangling our hands together as though binding us. Those ribbons hadn’t had anything to do with witches or fairies, though—of that I was certain, though I didn’t know how I was certain. But somehow I was just struck with the feeling that those binding red ribbons were something that only the two of us had experienced.

  Andre’s thumb rubbed back and forth across my knuckles, sending little tingles of sensation dancing up my arm. He was watching the motion, with a soft expression on his face. He looked back up at me and his eyes were warm.

  “I must admit, there was another reason I came a bit early today,” he started and seemed hesitant. “I… hoped I might talk to you about something.”

  “Okay,” I started, feeling concern welling up within me. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes,” he nodded immediately and dropped my hand as he walked over to the windows that overlooked the long driveway and the line of Aspen trees. He put his hands in his slacks and stood there with his back to me for a little while.

  When he finally turned around, there was tension in his broad shoulders. “I’m afraid I have to return to Portland for a little while,” he said.

  “Oh,” I answered as my heart dropped.

  “I have… a bit of unfinished business.”

  I nodded, not wanting to pry but at the same time, a million questions pounded through my head. Was he planning on returning? Was this a final goodbye? Had he changed his mind about settling in Haven Hollow?

  “Then the house we toured,” I started.

  He shook his head. “Much though I really loved it… I’m afraid I’m not at a point yet where I can… move here.”

  “Oh,” I said again, not really sure what else to say. And it didn’t help that my stomach had dropped down to my toes though I wasn’t sure why.

  So what if Andre had changed his mind and decided settling down wasn’t for him? So what if he was going to hit the road again and go back to his old life? So what if Haven Hollow wasn’t his life’s path?

  So what?

  “I do plan on returning,” he said quickly, taking a few steps towards me. “I won’t be gone for long… I hope.”

  If it were like it was last time, he’d be gone for five or so months, then he’d pop back into our lives and then he’d be gone again. And much though I liked Andre, and I respected his need to follow his own life path, that didn’t mean I was okay with him bailing on my son.

  “Then tutoring Finn?” I started.

  “Will have to be put on pause just until I can get things sorted in Portland,” Andre answered.

  I nodded, and though I felt a stab of motherly anger, I held it in check. Finn was old enough now to understand that sometimes people didn’t follow through on what they said they’d do—that sometimes people could be disappointing. It was a lesson he’d have to learn in the same way I’d had to learn it—over and over again, with every man I’d ever dated.

  Except for Marty.

  “But that wasn’t the only subject I wanted to discuss,” Andre said as he closed the distance between us and I found him standing right in front of me—dressed in his black, cashmere sweater and his dark slacks and his perfect face and body and me dressed in an apron, that was covered with flour, my hair spilling out of my ponytail. I glanced down at his perfectly buffed leather shoes, so different to my fluffy, pink house slippers.

  And that was when it hit me—we were worlds apart. Andre had lived an exciting life of a bachelor magician, traveling here and there—going wherever his adventurous personality took him. And I was just a forty-something, single mom, struggling to raise her boy in a tiny town that no one had ever heard of.

  We were just… so different.

  “Poppy?” Andre started and then seemed to swallow his words, the little crease between his eyebrows deepening.

  And that was when it hit me—he knew how I felt about him and he couldn’t return the feelings. Or, if he could, his feelings for me weren’t strong enough to actually keep him here. And by the pained expression in his eyes, he was struggling with a way to tell me as much. Struggling because he had a big heart, and he didn’t want to hurt me.

  “It’s okay, Andre,” I said with a forced smile as I begged myself not to cry.

  There was never anything between the two of you to begin with, I yelled at myself. You were only ever just friends, and it doesn’t matter if he leaves your life just as quickly as he entered it.

  Andre frowned. “No, I don’t think you—”

  But I couldn’t stomach the idea of having to listen to whatever he was trying to tell me. It was enough that it just was—I didn’t want to actually hear the words. I wanted to have the memories of my time with Andre and I wanted to keep them unpolluted by reality—just fond remembrances of a man who could have been mine in another life—if the stars had lined up for us both.

  “It’s okay,” I said again and this time, offered him a more assertive smile as if to say I didn’t want to further the discussion. “I understand that you have your own life in Portland and Finn will understand that too. You don’t owe either one of us anything.”

  “It’s not about owing you something, Poppy,” he started but at the sting of tears in my eyes, I whirled around to stir the gravy before it started burning. Breathing in deeply, I closed my eyes and forced myself to get control of myself. Then I opened them once again, breathed out, and then placed the gravy on the backburner as I opened the oven to check on the turkey. Lifting up the aluminum foil that covered the legs, I noticed it was browning perfectly.

  “Poppy,” Andre started again, this time even more hesitantly. “I don’t think you understand what I’m trying to say.”

  But then the doorbell rang, and I’d never been more grateful for an interruption. I heard Finn scamper to the door and then his high-pitched announcement that it was Marty.

  I looked at Andre and offered him an apologetic smile that said I was sorry he’d been interrupted, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it and this was definitely the end of this conversation. He nodded as if to say he understood.

  “Perhaps we can continue this conversation another time then?” he asked.

  I nodded, even though I had no intention of continuing it, and wiped my hands on my apron as I started from the kitchen to greet my boyfriend who, truth be told, I’d never been happier to see. Marty turned his smile from Finn to me and then gathered me into a big bear hug before he noticed Andre who was now standing in the threshold of the kitchen.

  “You must be the magician I’ve heard so much about!” Marty offered with his big, boyish smile. “Hi, I’m Marty.”

  I turned around. “That’s right—you two haven’t yet met.”

  “Not formally, no,” Andre said and immediately offered his hand. There was something formal about the way he held himself and his smile. Not unfriendly, just proper. “It’s very nice to finally meet you, Marty.”

  They shook hands then and even though something inside of me was still wilting over the conversation with Andre in the kitchen, I forced those feelings back and painted on a happy expression as my guests started to arrive.

  ***

  Three hours later and all of us were gathered around my dining table sitting in all sorts of mismatched chairs. We’d just finished our dinner which was truly extraordinary. Everyone had brought a little something and to say I was stuffed was an understatement.

  “Should we break out the pies?” Roy asked, clearly eager to get on to the dessert round.

  “I say we break out the liquor,” Wanda answered.

  “Or the O negative,” Lorcan quipped and reached for her wrist, bringing it to his nose as he inhaled and closed his eyes. “Ah, that bouquet is unparallel.”

  “Gross!” Finn yelled and then rolled his eyes at Taliyah’s two sons who were seated beside him. It was the first time they’d ever met, and they’d become instant friends. And I was happy for that—the more friends Finn cultivated, the better as far as I was concerned. Yes, he might be on his way to becoming a very powerful magician, but I also wanted him to be a thirteen-year-old boy.

  As to Taliyah, she seemed to be completely healed from her ordeal with the fae, even if she was a little quieter than usual. Maverick was seated beside her and kept looking over at her as though trying to ascertain whether she needed anything. If I hadn’t known better, I would have assumed the two of them were… involved.

  “Do we need to remind you this is a family occasion?” Maverick muttered to Lorcan as Olga giggled beside him.

  “Perhaps we should take this to one of Poppy’s empty rooms,” Lorcan nearly sang into Wanda’s ear, who pulled away from him and pretended offense.

  “Will you quit it, you undead corpse?” she demanded, to which everyone laughed at Lorcan’s put-out expression.

  It was then that Marty cleared his throat loudly, pulling everyone’s attention to him.

  “Actually, I brought a few bottles of champagne,” Marty announced as he stood up from his seat beside me and motioned to Henner and RJ who both stood up and reached over to the buffet table to retrieve a packaged set of plastic champagne flutes.

  “I wanted to make a little toast for Thanksgiving,” Marty continued as Wanda glanced across the table at me, a questioning frown marring her otherwise perfect face.

  I just shrugged.

  After Henner had successfully handed out the champagne flutes and RJ had dutifully filled each one (Wanda had requested two) with champagne, Marty held his glass up and faced each and every one of us with a smile.

  “As Thanksgiving is a time to give thanks, I’d like to say I’m grateful for each and every one of you,” Marty started and everyone held up their glasses and cheersed.

  “And we’re grateful for all this incredible food!” Roy added and then looked hungrily at the pies and cakes which were spread out on the kitchen counter.

  “Yes, that too,” Marty said and cleared his throat as if to say he wasn’t quite finished. “I’d especially like to say I’m so grateful to a certain lovely lady who has brightened my life from the day I first arrived on her doorstep to welcome her to Haven Hollow.” He looked down at me and smiled. “And thought I’d fall right through the rotted wood,” he added with a laugh.

  I laughed right alongside him. “I actually thought Ophelia would kill you before the rotted porch did.”

  Everyone laughed at that.

  “Let’s get to the pie!” Finn called out and Libby, who had designated herself as Finn’s second mother, had to lean over to quiet him.

  “Yes, I will hurry this along,” Marty said with a laugh as he looked at Finn and then returned his attention to me. “I just wanted to say that I have loved you, Poppy Morton, from the moment I first met you.”

  I felt my heart drop as an indescribable feeling of panic started to overtake me, though I didn’t know why. It felt like slow motion as I watched Marty place his flute of champagne on the table top and then he reached inside his pocket and produced a velvet covered box. And suddenly my heart was in my throat and I couldn’t breathe around it.

  “You have made me the happiest I’ve ever been,” Marty continued as silence echoed around the table, a few shocked intakes of breath the only sounds.

  I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but hear the pounding of my heart as it echoed in my ears and I watched Marty drop down to one knee before me at the same time that he popped open the top of the velvet box and a diamond ring sparkled at me.

  “It’s about time!” Bailey yelled out from where she sat beside Darla and her new boyfriend, Syd.

  “Would you do me the honor of being my wife?” Marty finished, his eyes never leaving mine. It felt like time stood still as my gaze shifted from the earnest desire in Marty’s eyes to the absolute shock in Wanda’s, to the complete disbelief in Roy’s, to the tears of happiness in Libby’s, to the ecstatic grin on Finn’s face. But then my eyes shifted to the far end of the table, even though I told myself not to look at him. But I couldn’t seem to help it. I just… couldn’t stop myself.

  Maybe I was just imagining it, but in that split second that I looked at Andre, it seemed all the color had drained from his face and there was something in his eyes I couldn’t read. He didn’t appear surprised, but he also didn’t appear upset necessarily. He just… was. That was it—there was no expression on his face at all.

  “Poppy?” Marty said, pulling my attention back to him and I realized he was waiting for me to respond, waiting for me to answer the most important question he’d ever asked anyone. The silence surrounding me was oppressive, and I suddenly felt like I was going to pass out. Or throw up. Or both. At the same time.

  All those faces, all those pairs of eyes were on me—all waiting for me to answer—all waiting for me to either make Marty’s night, his year, his life, or dash his hopes to nothing. And at the thought of hurting him—of telling him ‘no’ in front of everyone…

  I looked up into Marty’s blue eyes and the hope I saw there. He was such a good man—such a good friend—one of my closest. And he was an incredible boyfriend, and I knew he’d make a wonderful husband—a kind, attentive, loving husband.