"I speak for her," said James. "My father and I speak for her. And what is it you want to say to me on her account? The girl's our kinswoman."
"Ah, and ours as well," said Hananel. "What do you think I want to say? Why do you think I dragged myself through this downpour? I came here this day with an offer of marriage for the girl on behalf of my grandson, Reuben, who sits here to my right, and who is well known to you, as I am known to you. And I speak now of marriage for my son and this girl. Her evil father has abandoned her before the elders of this village and in plain sight of everyone present, including myself and my grandson, and so if you speak for her, then speak for her now to me."
Joseph laughed.
No one else said a word, or moved, or even breathed very deeply. But Joseph laughed. He looked at the ceiling. His hair was dried now and very white and his eyes were moist in the glimmer from the coals. He laughed as if he was dreaming.
"Ah, Hananel," he said. "How I have missed you, and I didn't even know it."
"Yes, and I've missed you too, Joseph," said Hananel. "Now before any of you clever men say so, allow me to say so: the girl is innocent; she was innocent yesterday; she is innocent today. And the girl is very young."
"Amen," I said.
"But she's not poor," said James without missing a heartbeat. "She has her money from her mother, and she'll have a proper marriage contract hammered out here in this room before she'll be betrothed to anyone or married to anyone, and she will be a bride from this door on her wedding night."
Hananel nodded. "Get the ink and the parchment," he said. "Ah, listen to this rain. What chance is there that I'll sleep under my own roof tonight?"
"You're welcome to sleep under our roof, my lord," I said, with James murmuring his fierce assent. Everyone took it up, the welcomes. My mother and Old Bruria were setting out pottage for us, and warm bread.
From somewhere deep in the house, somewhere above the first story, I could hear the murmur of women's voices. Even beneath the constant hammer of the rain. I saw Mara come back in when I had not even seen her go out. So Avigail knew of all this, my precious and anguished Avigail.
Aunt Esther brought the parchment, several loose sheets, and the ink and the pen.
"Write it up, write it all up," said Hananel airily. "Write up that everything pertaining to her inheritance from her mother is hers, according to every record public, private, written, and unwritten, known to tradition and unrecorded except by common consent, or according to the girl's own avowal, and in spite of the denials of her father. Write it up."
"My lord," my mother said. "This is all we have to offer you, I fear, only a little pottage but the bread is fresh and just warmed."
"It's a banquet, my child," he said, bowing his head gravely. "I knew your father and loved him. This is good bread." He beamed up at her, and then glared at James. "And what are you writing?"
"Why, I'm writing just exactly what you said."
And so it began.
It lasted an hour.
They talked, back and forth, of all the usual conditions and proprieties. James haggled mercilessly over every single point. The girl's property was hers in perpetuity and should her husband ever, no matter what anyone said, put her aside, her property would be returned to her and with such damages as her kinsmen would demand, and so forth and so on, as it was always done, back and forth, back and forth. Yet James drove every point home. Now and then Cleopas gave him a nod, or held up a cautious finger, but in general it was James who saw to it, until it was written out. And signed.
"Now, I beg you, my lords, to allow this bride to be married immediately," declared Hananel with a weary shrug. His voice was slurred now from the wine, and he pinched his nose as if his eyes ached. "In view of what the child has suffered, in view of the disposition of her father, let this happen at once. In three days' time or sooner, I insist, for the girl's sake. I will immediately seek to prepare my house."
"No, my lord," I said. "That won't do."
James gave me a sharp look, full of apprehension and distrust. But not a single woman in the room looked at me. It was plain enough to them what I meant when I spoke.
"In several months' time," I said, "at Purim, Avigail will be ready for the bridegroom to come for her at this threshold, properly arrayed for her new husband and beneath the canopy, with all our kinsmen to salute you and sing for you, and proceed with you and dance with you, and she will then be yours."
James stared at me wrathfully. My uncle raised his eyebrows but didn't speak. Joseph watched in quiet.
But my mother nodded. The other women nodded.
"That's over three months' time," Reuben said with a sigh.
"Yes, my lord," I said. "And right after Purim, after we've all heard the Scroll of Esther, as we should."
Hananel studied me, and then nodded. "This is good. We are agreed."
"But now, if I might," asked Reuben. "If I might for just a moment see the girl, speak to her, present to her this gift."
"What is this gift?" demanded James.