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There goes the last of my headache.

I climb out and scoop her into my arms, planting kisses across her face until she starts laughing.

“Guess what Miss Morgan said?” she asks excitedly.

I close my eyes for half a second.

Of course.

“What did Miss Morgan say, Pen?”

“She said we can bring something special for show-and-tell on Friday.” Aspen points over my shoulder. “Can I bring Gramps?”

Dad, standing on the porch behind us, presses a hand to his chest.

“Something special, huh?” he asks.

“You’re old,” Aspen explains. “That’s special.”

Dad stares at her while I burst out laughing.

“You wound me, Penny.”

Aspen giggles and wriggles out of my arms to run back inside for her things.

“Thanks again for last night,” I tell Dad, pulling him into a hug. “Turns out I needed the break.”

“Anytime, son,” he replies, clapping me on the back.

Mom follows Aspen outside carrying her overnight bag.

“You’re still going to parent-teacher night tomorrow, aren’t you?” she asks.

“Yeah. I’m leaving the shop early.”

“Good. Aspen really likes Miss Morgan.”

“So I’ve heard.” I raise my eyebrows as I take the bag from her.

Once Aspen is buckled into the truck, I climb behind the wheel and honk once as we head down the driveway.

She spends the entire drive home teaching me everything she learned about whales.

Apparently, Gramps isn’t the only old thing she finds special.

* * *

When we get home, I make steak, fries and vegetables for dinner. We eat on the back porch while Aspen tells me more about whale watching, and I fill her in on the far less exciting details of my night.

After dinner and a bath, she starts rubbing her eyes. That’s my cue to get her into bed before she becomes overtired—and neither of us needs that tonight.

“Daddy?” Aspen asks as I tuck her in.

“Yeah, Pen?”

“You’re gonna like Miss Morgan.” She smiles like it’s a fact rather than an opinion.

I pull the blanket beneath her chin. “You think so?”