I thought we were done with the conversation for
tonight. We’ve both said more to each other than we have all
year. Meaningful stuff. Stuff that’s not about work or about my
class. Personal stuff.
“A daughter who’s like everyone else?”
Dad surprises me again and grins. “Where would be
the fun in that?”
“I don’t know that fun is the right word.”
“It’s the right one.” He draws deeply on his pipe and
exhales. “Don’t worry. You haven’t given me any gray hairs.
These are all from work. Maybe a few from your mother.”
My jaw drops open an inch. “Did you just make a
joke?”
Dad never jokes. He might use some dry humor here
and there, very seldom, but he doesn’t joke. I guess I’d say
that he doesn’t believe in using more words than he has to in
order to get through the day.
“I am capable, you know.” Dad pulls on his pipe again.
Exhales again.
Honestly, I wasn’t sure.
We go back to sitting quietly in the companionable
silence that we’re much more used to sharing, even if it is
different now. Unexpectedly different. Good different.
Chapter 26
Adley
Coming back to the park is weird without Tildy. She’s with
Mandy this week. John and my sister both seem to be settling
into their own lives. They’re much happier now. It’s funny, not
in the ha-ha kind of sense, just maybe slightly strange, that
they can be friendly with each other now. They have Tildy to