"Hello."
                          
He laughed, and the faint lines at the corners of his eyes deepened. Something about him was different — more carefree. 
                          
"I got a dog," he blurted. 
                          
Eileen clamped a hand over her mouth and suppressed a squeal. Now that they were close, she clasped his arms tightly and flashed a giant grin. 
                          
"A dog? Harry, you got a dog?"
                          
He nodded. 
                          
"Oh, that's wonderful!" she exclaimed. Her hands flew to her chest. If she were any more excited, the positive energy would surely burst and short-circuit the entire town. "Where? What breed? Is it a boy? A girl?"
                          
"It's a male Bernese," he chuckled. "I ran into this guy on the beach, and he just... gave him to me. Right there, on the spot. I've been running around all day trying to find the right stuff for him."
                          
"Harry, I'm so happy for —" 
                          
"Eileen?" came a voice from upstairs. 
                          
She jumped slightly, forgetting that they were still in a public place. She craned her neck upwards to call out a response, aware of Harry's tentative presence beside her.  
                          
"Down here, Pappa!"
                          
From the top of the stairs emerged a man with thick blonde hair and tanned skin. He was rather tall, like Eileen, with a prominent jaw and fine features. When his eyes landed on her, he beamed a radiant grin that was also similar to her own. 
                          
"Ah, där är du!"
                          
Harry squinted in confusion. 
                          
"Swedish," Eileen whispered. She turned to embrace her father once his feet hit the ground floor. His arms wrapped around her tightly, and when they pulled apart, he met Harry's gaze and went to shake his hand. 
                          
"Ove Harris," he declared. He had a booming voice, accent thick and far more prominent than anything he'd heard from Eileen. It was funny that she'd never mentioned it before. 
                          
"I'm Harry. It's a pleasure to meet you."
                          
"Likewise," he grinned. "Are you here to take my daughter out?"
                          
He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out; for whatever reason, he couldn't seem to find his voice. Why had he come here, really? Was it just to tell her about Sam? Could he have waited until tomorrow?  And given a few more minutes with her, would he have indeed asked her to have dinner with him after her shift? 
                          
Ove laughed and gave him a clap on the back. 
                          
"What is it with you young people? Always so embarrassed about everything."
                          
His soft blue eyes shifted to Eileen, who even despite her embarrassment, regarded him warmly. She looked quite tired. Beautiful as ever — but tired. He could tell she was in desperate need of a break by the way her shoulders were slumped, as she shifted her weight from each foot. Most of her hair had fallen from her half-secured bun, and it was frizzy. Yet, there was something in her eyes that was excited; something that yearned. 
                          
He pulled her close and gave her a big kiss on the head.
                          
"You can head out early if you'd like, Tulip. I'll cover those last two tables."
                          
"Are you sure?"
                          
"Positive!" he grinned. "Do you need help with your apron again?" She flushed and nodded reluctantly. Before she could turn to let him unfasten the knot, he gave Harry a sly glance and patted her once on the shoulder. "Harry, could you help her please? I've got to take care of those gentlemen before they get impatient."