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