Penny glances at me, a hint of a smile there before she reins it in. “I can imagine alarms are powerful motivators.”
“What’s your name?”
“My name’s Penelope, but most people call me Penny.”
Elle beams. “Penguins start with a p-e-n, too.”
“They do, clever girl. I’m honored to share letters with them. And what’s your name?”
“I’m just Elle.”
“Nice to meet you, just Elle. I like your dress.”
“Thanks!” She twirls with the brightest smile I’ve seen in a while, clearly delighted that her fashion choice of the day has been endorsed, then darts back toward the swings without warning.
“I like her, Daddy!” she shouts over her shoulder.
Penny laughs, and it’s that same musical sound I heard in Flora’s yesterday.
“I’m glad I passed inspection,” she says, straightening fully now. “Think the penguin-adjacent name was the clincher.”
“She takes penguins very seriously.”
“As she should.”
A beat settles between us, and I fill it without thinking.
“So did Rose take pity on you and give you a job in the end?”
“No, but I met Gwen at Neverland yesterday afternoon,” she says, brushing some mulch from her leggings. “Got a trial shift tonight. Apparently, I make an excellent first impression, but we’ll see.”
“You’ll be fine.”
Her eyebrows lift slightly, a small, amused smile curving her lips. “You sound pretty confident about someone you’ve just met.”
I shrug lightly, not fully meeting her playful challenge. “I’ve seen worse under pressure.”
“That’s reassuring.” She huffs lightly. “Slightly.”
Gus noses her hand again, and she gives him one last scratch before stepping back.
“Well, I’ll let you three get back to your morning,” she says.
Something shifts low in my chest, and I give her a nod, but it comes a beat late.
“Daddy!” Elle yells. “Push!”
I glance toward the swings, then back at Penny. She gives a small salute with two fingers and slips her earbud back in, jogging off along the path without looking back.
Gus watches her go, but I don’t. Not obviously, anyway.
But when I step behind Elle’s swing and give her a steady push, her laugh rings out sharp and bright in the cold air, and I find myself thinking about the way Penny crouched to speak to her. The way she listened, and the way she didn’t try to impress anyone.
Just spoke to my daughter like a real person, like she was worth listening to.
“Higher!”
I oblige.
