after the party. jim checks on a sleeping dylan and tucks the covers over her gently.
dylan, stirring: hi, dad.
jim, whispering: hi, dylan.
dylan: who showed up?
jim: i'll tell you in the morning
dylan, mischievously: i know... mrs. reynolds!
jim, surprised: were you creeping?
jim: goodnight, dylan
dylan: good night, dad.