“Perfect,” I said. “We’ll help you update your profile on all the online dating sites. Before you know it, your dance card is going to be so full you’ll forget all about Polly. It’s really sweet of you to worry about her, Dad, but she’ll be fine. I’m taking good care of her, and all the other teachers are looking out for her, too.”

Our father drained his beer, held the empty can out to Carol.

Carol started to argue, shrugged, got up to get him another beer.

“Good girl,” our dad said to Carol. He turned back to me. “Here’s the rub—our Polly can’t just up and have a baby by herself. She needs one of those Lacoste coaches.”

“Lamaze,” I said.

Our father took a long sip of his new beer. “Upon further reflection, in a pinch I might have wrangled a nappy or three back in the day.”

“Okay, so let’s do the math,” Carol said. “With six of us, that’s a helluva lot of nappies you didn’t wrangle.”

Our father threaded his hands behind his head, arched his back in a catlike stretch. When he finished, he unzipped his pink Bark & Roll Forever fleece halfway.

“Well, then,” he said, “let’s just say it’s a chance to do it all over again and make things right.”

“Dad,” I said.

He went in for the kill. “I talked to your mother last night. Sure as God made little green apples, she thinks it’s the right thing to do.”

The kitchen door swung open again. If this kept up, we were going to have to consider adding a revolving door to the renovation list.

An orange and red sugar maple leaf skittered across the speckled linoleum floor. Polly and Johnny came in right behind the leaf. Polly was laughing, her head thrown back and her freckles camouflaged by her bright pink cheeks. Johnny was laughing, too, which was definitely a first since he’d descended on us.

My father was already on his feet. “There she is. What can I get you to drink, darlin’?”

“Seriously?” Carol said.

“No thanks, I’m all set, Dad,” Johnny said. I couldn’t be sure, but it seemed like he might have shrugged off his profound pouting long enough to attempt a joke. Not a particularly good one, but still.

Polly held up her water bottle. “I’m all set, too, thanks.”

“Casserole’s in the oven,” I said. “Turkey tetrazzini or paparazzi or something like that.”

Nobody laughed at my joke either.

Our Dad crossed the kitchen floor to Polly, grabbed her by the hand and twirled her around, water bottle and all. “How about I take you out for a nice meal instead, darlin’?”

“Back off, Dad,” Johnny said. “Poppy and I just finished grabbing subs at Maria’s.”

“Poppy?” Carol said.

“Yeah, Poppy,” Johnny said. “You wanna make something out of it?”