“Oh, you don’t think so?” He looked at me, and there was more than a hint of amusement in his eyes. “I assure you, it’s the first thing I think about in the morning, and the last before I lay myself down to sleep.”

“Really?”

“I have five children, Amanda, and every one of them is healthy and strong. And as far as I know, you’re all happy. It’s probably dumb luck that you’ve all turned out so well, but I’m not going to tempt any fates by wishing for something else.”

I thought about that for a moment. It had never occurred to me to wish for something I already had. “Is it scary being a parent?” I asked.

“The most terrifying thing in the world.”

I don’t know what I thought he might say, but it wasn’t that. But then I realized-he was speaking to me as an adult. I don’t know if he’d ever really done so before. He was still my father, and I was still his daughter, but I’d crossed some mysterious threshold.

It was thrilling and sad at the same time.

We sat together for a few minutes more, pointing out constellations and not saying anything of import. And then, just when I was about to head back inside, he said, “Your mother said that you had a gentleman caller this afternoon.”

“And four of his female cousins,” I quipped.

He looked over at me with arched brows, a silent scolding for making light of the topic.

“Yes,” I said. “I did.”

“Did you like him?”

“Yes.” I felt myself grow a bit light, as if my insides had gone fizzy. “I did.”

He digested that, then said, “I’m going to have to get a very large stick.”

“What?”

“I used to say to your mother that when you were old enough to be courted, I was going to have to beat away the gentlemen.”

There was something almost sweet about that. “Really?”

“Well, not when you were very small. Then you were such a nightmare I despaired of anyone ever wanting you.”

“Father!”