Most days, Thing kept busy enough to not dwell on the ache his beloved Lady Fingers’s absence left in him. He thought of her every day, of course, but there were bad days when he agonised over the fear of never being with her again, over the pain of not being with her right then. But this day was a good day: his thoughts leaned more towards the good memories he already had. Indeed, he was reminiscing over the first time he had been brave enough to ask to hold her hand when he heard the squeal of tires on asphalt.

“This is it, fellas!”

“Are you sure? Oh-oh-one Cemetery Lane?”

“Get the equipment! Have ya got the equipment?”

Thing cracked open the mailbox and snuck a peek at the front of the Addams house. A small crowd had gathered by Gate, lugging with them cameras of varying size and notepads of varying thickness. Gingerly shutting the mailbox and hurrying back into the main house, Thing wondered what the Addamses had done now to attract the news’s attention.

When Thing relayed the update to his old friend, Gomez seemed just as confused.

“Could it be aliens again?” he thought aloud.

“Oh,” mused Morticia, “but the government does like to keep those concerns quiet.”

“You’re right, querida. Perhaps something to do with the family fortune? Though I had paid extra attention to my stocks this morning…”

Smiling, Morticia patted his cheek. “Yes, darling, you do rather resemble our children unwrapping their birthday presents when a market crash is said to be impending.”

Exasperated, Thing shook his wrist as Gomez grinned and turned to capture his wife’s mouth in a kiss. Mercifully, Lurch arrived in the living room at that moment and groaned.

“Journalist at the door,” he informed them. “Kennington News.”

Morticia frowned. “Kennington? That’s on the other side of the Atlantic.”

Pocketing his cigar, Gomez started in the direction of the front door. “Better not keep them waiting any longer then,” he said. “We’re already four hours behind the UK, you know!”

Thing followed after his friend, although he kept the lid of the box by the door closed; he preferred to only come out when needed—it was much warmer inside his boxes—but he could still hear everything from within.

“Mr. Addams?” greeted an unfamiliar voice. “Is it true that Princess Millicent will soon be tied to this house?”

“Aunt Millie? Well, she knows she’s always welcome here! She was an Addams before she was a von Schlepp, you know.”

“Jot that down, Georgie… But no, what we mean is— Well, her mysterious handmaiden, Lady F. There’s no footage of her to be found, no comment from her to be heard. But we’ve learned Lady F is engaged to be married! We’ve managed to track down the mysterious fiancé to this house, and well— Well— The people want to know more, sir!”

A new voice, younger but just as unfamiliar, spoke up: “Yes, sir, Mister. We’d love to meet the lucky man.”

“Georgie, do shush. Mr. Addams, we’d love to meet the lucky man. Is he an employee of this house?”

“An employee?” said Gomez. “He’s an old family friend, been around since I was a child. But he’s always helping around the house, and you know that, with him, you’re in safe hand.”

“D’ya mean ‘hands’, Mister?”

“Georgie, shush! So, Mr. Addams, you confirm there is a fiancé? Princess Millicent wouldn’t say much; if I didn’t know better, I’d think she’d mentioned the engagement accidentally, but surely not. She knows we’d be hooked on any information about her ever-present but never-sighted handmaiden!”

Thing’s blood ran cold.

Princess Millicent… Had she used his relationship with Lady Fingers as paparazzi fodder? Was that what he meant to her? To Lady Fingers?

Heartbroken, Thing slunk away from the rest of Gomez’s conversation with the reporters and pushed open the box by the peacock chair. He draped himself over the edge and shuddered in despair.

“Thing?” said Morticia, worry crumpling her silken voice. When he didn’t reply, she put down her knitting and looked at him more closely. “Dear, you look like you’ve touched a ghost! What’s happened?”

He finished catching her up on what he learned just as Gomez returned.

“Thing, old friend, you’ll never believe it!” he exclaimed. “Those fellows want to interview you. They’ve just gone to get their filming equipment, but I’ve invited them to come right back and—”

“Oh, Gomez,” interjected Morticia. “Thing heard what they were saying, and he is simply not comfortable talking to them about all this.”

Gomez halted in his tracks, and Morticia filled him in. He hurried to Thing’s side right after, eyes wide.

“It couldn’t be!” he said to his old friend. “Lady Fingers adores you—anybody with or without eyes could see it. Even if she betrayed you, it must have been out of love!”

“And perhaps she didn’t betray you,” added Morticia. “Reporters never do like giving away their true sources. You mustn’t lose hope until you’ve spoken to your fiancée yourself.”

Gomez turned sharply towards his wife. “Querida, what sage advice.” He grabbed her hand and pulled it towards his mouth. “Your shrewd worldliness, your astute mind—it drives me wild.”

Morticia watched him kiss up to her shoulder before she spoke. “Darling, Thing needs some time with his love, not ours.”

With a heavy sigh, Gomez straightened. “Yes, of course… Sorry, old friend.”

Thing waved it off.

After giving him a grateful smile, Gomez reached over and tugged on the noose.

“You rang?” groaned Lurch behind Morticia’s chair.

“Those journalists will be here soon,” he said. “Tell them something came up and they’ll have to come back another time, will you, Lurch? And afterwards, please ask Fester to keep the children occupied so that Thing and Lady Fingers can have this room to themselves.”

Groaning, he shook his head and ambled off.

“We’ll have to get Lady Fingers down here first,” remarked Morticia. “Why don’t you ring Princess Millicent while I go talk to Mamá? We’ll need someone to distract the paparazzi once they start getting antsy.”

Gomez smiled in agreement. “Querida.”

Morticia gifted him with a smile of her own as she stood and left for the kitchen. Thing took the time to grab the telephone for Gomez.

“Thank you, Thing,” he said as he took it from him. Beginning to dial, he arched an eyebrow at him. “You should get started on thinking about what to say to Lady Fingers when she gets here. You have to be prepared to say your piece but ready to hear hers, you know.”

Thing nodded and reentered his box for a bit of privacy. But he didn’t know what he wanted to say, or what he should say, or whether there was any hope of reconciling the two. He just knew that he loved Lady Fingers and he wouldn’t be able to bear it if she didn’t love him like he thought she did.

He hadn’t figured out anything past that when a familiar-sounding set of knuckles rapped on his box.

Thing winced as the light of the living room shone down on him, but his spirits lifted at the sight of Gomez’s grin.

“They should be here soon,” he informed him, and Thing’s fingers danced in immense gratitude.

“Oh, Gomez!” cried Morticia as she swept back into the room. “Mamá refuses to help. She says she’s being overworked in the kitchen and with her spells as it is.”

Gomez pursed his lips in consideration. “The children have been hungrier and hungrier lately,” he conceded. “But I’ll have to talk to her; she’s the one who insists anyone with two or more hands takes up too much control in her kitchen and isn’t allowed to help!”

“But what of right now?” she questioned. “Who will keep that crowd outside distracted? It won’t be long before they start peeking into windows and climbing down the chimney.”

“You know Cousin Itt is awfully territorial of that chimney,” said Gomez. “He’ll keep them out of there at least. As for the rest of us, I think we’ll be just fine if we keep to the house. Nobody outside!”

“And Princess Millicent?” asked Morticia. “How will she and Lady Fingers get inside?”

He grinned. “Don’t worry, cara mia. I told her to come through Pugsley’s tunnel.”

At last, the worried crease in Morticia’s brow smoothed. “Oh, mon cher, you think of everything…”

Gomez’s face lit up as he took her hand and tugged her against him. “Tish, that’s F—”

“Filthy!” came a new, though known, voice. “Absolutely filthy! Asking a princess, an oil tycoon, to crawl through a muddy tunnel…”

They all turned towards Princess Millicent, watching her trudge over and dust herself off. Before Thing could remind Gomez and Morticia to treat the newcomer like royalty, Princess Millicent’s countenance softened.

“As unpleasant as that was, I recognise I’ve promised to help resolve a problem I caused,” she said. “A princess is a woman of her word.”

“An oil tycoon is less so,” offered Gomez helpfully.

“True,” she said, “but regardless, I’m happy to help Lady Fingers. We’ve become quite good friends.”

“Where is your handmaiden, Your Highness?” asked Morticia, eyeing the ornate container the princess placed beside Thing’s box. “It will have to be all hands on deck to help this couple.”

“Unfortunately, there was some trouble with our luggage that she has to iron out,” answered Princess Millicent. “She will be here soon, I’m sure. But now, where is that fiancé of hers?”

Thing waved demurely, and the princess graced him with a small, sincere smile.

“I hope you’ve been well,” she said.

Thing gestured that the feeling was mutual.

“I know we didn’t get off to the best start, but I have been trying to teach myself not to judge anyone so harshly. In your case, it certainly helps that my closest companion is always talking about you, too!”

Thing froze, his knuckles popping rigidly into place.

So it was true. Lady Fingers had been gossiping about him. He had never thought she could be so—so—so underhanded!

Thing didn’t hear the rest of what Princess Millicent said as he sunk further and further back into his box.

“I look forward to your marriage, so that I might get to know all these fine qualities she lists firstha— Hey!”

The lid fell shut as he scurried away from prying eyes. His network of boxes suddenly felt cold and dark, but he would take it.

He just needed to be alone.

Alone.

That’s what he was, wasn’t it? Completely, utterly alone.

He shot out of the mailbox, paying no mind to the pain that lanced up his nerves at the jarring landing on the concrete.

He just needed to be alone.

He ran down the sidewalk as quickly as his fingers could carry him, not caring where he went or who saw him.

He just needed to be alone.

One journalist shrieked as he passed, and another jumped into the arms of the closest other person.

“Georgie, what are you—? Great Scott, what is—?!”

“A hand! A hand! Came right from the house!”

“Are you getting this on camera?”

“Let’s get out of here!”

“And never speak of it again!”

The shouts grew in number and in volume, but Thing tuned them out.

He just needed to be alone.

He just needed—

“Thing?”

His fingertips screeched to a halt. Morse Code? On the sidewalk? But who…?

Then he spotted her, just a metre away.

“Lady Fingers,” he tapped back, managing to not stutter even with his fingers shaking like leaf stems.

“Where are you going?” she asked, switching to American Sign Language now that they were facing each other.

He hesitated before answering in kind. “Away from here. Away from them.”

“The Addamses?”

“The paparazzi.”

“Oh, yes,” she sympathised. “Her Highness Princess Millicent felt so guilty about letting it slip that I was engaged. She must have apologised profusely upon seeing you.”

Thing shook his wrist, and Lady Fingers seemed surprised.

“I suppose she still has her pride to maintain,” she conceded. “She apologised profusely to me at least.”

“You?” said Thing, too shocked to think it through. “It bothered you too?”

“Naturally!” she replied. “I’m a very private woman, you know; I don’t like it when people get too heavy-handed.”

He flopped to the ground at this revelation.

“Thing?” prompted Lady Fingers, approaching him warily. “What’s happened?”

He thought back to what Morticia had said, about prioritising what his beloved had to say over any other impression. And look at him! He’d been ready to run away, to wallow in heartbreak, maybe to break things off entirely without even seeing Lady Fingers for himself! How could he have messed up so badly single-handedly?

Well, he could make up for it single-handedly too!

Thing leaped to his fingers.

“Lady Fingers, marry me.”

She startled. “But Thing, you’ve already proposed to me. I’ve already said yes!”

“No,” he said, hurrying to her side. “Marry me today. Right now.”

He held out his palm to her, and she didn’t hesitate before lacing her fingers through his.

•••

Finding someone willing to officiate elopers was easier than expected; finding someone who kept their wits when they actually saw these particular elopers was the difficult part. At last, Thing—already the luckiest hand alive it felt—had found a pastor who had simply pressed the back of his hand against his forehead and whispered, “Just get it over with, Reggie, and then you can call an emergency MUFON meeting.”

Thing hadn’t known what that meant, but he had stopped caring when Lady Fingers had pulled him towards the altar.

Presently, as they strolled back to the Addams house, Thing couldn’t help but admire the way sunlight glinted off the band on his finger. He was of the same mind as the rest of his household that the Sun could be quite the nuisance, quite the pain, but it was definitely good for some things.

His fiancée—no, his wife—paused, and he dutifully followed suit and tilted his fingertips towards her to show he was listening.

“What are you thinking about, my husband?”

Out of excitement, his fingers wiggled of their own accord. Her husband. Oh, the Universe had truly dealt him a good hand.

“I’m happier than I ever could have imagined,” he told her. “I think I’d even be ready to do an interview with those reporters now.”

Lady Fingers flapped her fingers in laughter. “Too bad we know what those news people are like: they’ve probably already forgotten the whole thing.”

Chuckling, they resumed their walk, but only a few minutes later did they stop again.

“Hey! Hey, you there! You two, on the sidewalk!”

Thing looked around and spotted a young boy, perhaps a few years older than little Pugsley, peeking over a fence. Thing waved, and the boy’s face split in a wide grin.

“You’re so cool,” he said. “I’ve been a fan since I first saw you on the news, like, eighty minutes ago.”

Thing curled his fingers inwards, flattered and not a little bashful at the reminder that the crowd outside the house had gotten him on camera.

The boy pulled himself up even further on the fence, allowing Thing a glimpse of his empty right sleeve. “Is that your girlfriend?” he asked.

Thing flashed his wedding ring, and the boy smiled.

“Oh, your wife,” he said. “That’s so cool too. All the girls at my school think I’m a freak.”

Trusting Lady Fingers to follow if she wished, Thing climbed up the fence and sat down by the boy’s eager face. He held up one finger, and the boy went cross-eyed for a moment before understanding passed over his expression.

“You’re right,” he said. “There is one girl… I don’t wanna marry her, but I guess it’d be nice to have a friend.”

Thing nodded his wrist just as Lady Fingers pulled herself up beside him. The boy’s gaze jumped between them.

“But don’t you get nervous?” he asked. “What if somebody just seems nice from far away, but they’ll call you a freak if you get too close?”

Thing flexed his fingers. You couldn’t know something like that without speaking to a person directly—he’d learned that himself. But before he could think of a way to convey that to the boy, Lady Fingers jumped onto his shoulder.

“Whoa!” he laughed. “This is so, so cool!”

She crawled down to the boy’s wrist, then held on and bent her knuckles a few times. He seemed to catch on and lifted his arm up.

“We’re the same side!” he giggled. “Oh, wow!”

She stretched out her pointer finger, and following her example, Thing hopped up and down on the fence with his index extended upwards. A small smile appeared on the boy’s lips as he mimicked them, pointing to the sky.

“Okay, okay, I get it. I will.”

Thing gave him an enthusiastic thumbs-up as Lady Fingers jumped back onto the fence.

“Thank you,” said the boy.

Thing gestured towards his wife, but the boy fixed him with a steady gaze.

“You both,” he insisted, “thank you. It was very cool to meet you.”

Waving, the newlyweds returned to the sidewalk and continued on their way. The Sun had just begun to tint the sky orange when they arrived at 001 Cemetery Lane.

Thing showed Lady Fingers into the mailbox, but he pushed open the lid of the box by the peacock chair while she came out of her own ornate box beside it.

“Thing!” exclaimed Morticia, dropping her knitting needles into her lap out of shock. “You’re back! And Lady Fingers, you’re with him! And what’s this I see on your fingers? Are those—?”

Her eyes narrowed, but before she could finish her sentence, Gomez came crashing into the living room.

“Did I hear you correctly, cara mia? Oh, Thing, old friend!” he cried. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Morticia nodded. “We’ve been worried sick. Gomez was trying to gather as much of the family fortune as he could to get that Sam Diamond back.”

“Well, he did such a good job last time Thing went missing…”

“And Her Highness was—”

“I was calling in every contact I have in this town,” cut in the princess herself as she strode into the room, her skirt swishing by her legs. “I’m so glad you two have returned home safely.”

Morticia smiled down at Thing. “I knew you’d come back to us.”

He fluttered his fingers at her, but before he could say anything else, Princess Millicent approached him.

“I wish to apologise for the misunderstanding that so upset you,” she said, pressing her palm to her heart. “When I said Lady Fingers told me all about you, I only meant in the way female friends tend to confide in each other regarding the men in their lives. She has never betrayed your confidence.”

He turned to his wife and drooped his fingers, but she only wagged hers back, exasperated but endeared.

“I’m surprised at you, Aunt Millie,” commented Gomez. “As a prominent public figure, you should know delicate situations like this have no place for offhand remarks!”

“Well,” said Morticia, “speaking of ‘offhand’, I think these two have some news for us.”

They all turned to the couple, and this time Lady Fingers flashed her wedding ring.

“Oh!” gasped the princess, her hand now clutching at her heart. “Oh, goodness!”

Gomez grinned at Thing. “Nice going, old friend.”

Morticia gave both her husband and their royal guest a meaningful look before curling the corners of her mouth towards the newlyweds. “Congratulations, you two.”

Thing reached over to his bride, who flushed a lovely shade of pink as she took his hand.

“Yes, of course, congratulations,” said Princess Millicent. “I’ll have to discard all the grand wedding plans I had prepared, but I suppose this is a more…hands-on…approach.”

Gomez shrugged and pulled the cigar out of his mouth. “Well, for Thing, hands-on is the only way he can get things done.”

The princess shook her head. “It’s only that…nobles never rush into these things,” she said, concern rather than conceit tinging her voice. “You two haven’t a living situation planned out at all, you do well to remember!”

Thing squeezed Lady Fingers’s hand, but she didn’t respond to the comfort.

“My travels are unavoidable,” continued Princess Millicent, “and I’ll be so busy on them I can take one and only one assistant. But I’d never dream of keeping you away from your love any longer, dear Lady Fingers.”

The handmaiden let go of Thing to address her employer. “I’m ready to settle down,” she signed. “You’ve given me so much, and you’ll always be one of my closest friends, Your Highness, but I think this is the start of the next chapter in my life.”

There were tears in Princess Millicent’s eyes, but she nodded with a smile. “Then I only worry about how you’ll get by,” she said. “I know you won’t accept charity, but it’s a terrible commonality for newlyweds to have to live from hand to mouth.”

“That won’t be a problem for these two,” reassured Morticia. “They haven’t got any mouths!”

Suddenly, the elder Mrs. Addams stomped into the room. “Well, supper’s ready,” she informed them, grouchier than usual. “But I’ve been slaving away over that pot all day, so somebody else better set the table.”

“But Mamá!” said Gomez. “You always say anyone with two or more hands can’t help.”

“In the kitchen,” she corrected her son, wagging her finger. “Always getting in my way…”

Morticia gasped and stood from her chair. “That’s it, Gomez!”

He turned to her, brow furrowed. “What’s it? That’s what?”

“Mamá, how would you like the help of one—and only one—hand?”

As she caught on, Princess Millicent smiled. “Oh, a kitchen handmaiden!”

Finally understanding, Thing watched in suspense as Eudora frowned at them.

“And where would we find one of those?” she demanded.

Princess Millicent’s smile widened as she ushered Lady Fingers into her box, then closed it and picked it up. “Might I introduce you to Mrs. Thing?”

•••

Later, after all the eating and all the congratulations, after celebrating with music and games in the living room and answering the children’s many questions, Thing showed his wife the box in the house that gave them the best view of the night sky. As the newlyweds held each other and stared up at the stars, Thing’s thoughts wandered to that boy behind the fence.

He let go of Lady Fingers and turned to her.

“I wonder,” he signed, “why that boy hadn’t been scared off like everyone else when they saw me.”

She leaned in closer and brushed her fingertips against his. “It must simply be that not all hope is lost,” she mused. “There are still people who can recognise a good man out there.”

Thing blushed. “Me?”

“Of course: you’ve got it all,” she said. “Kind, selfless, and so very handsome.”