Granville Island.

“Isn’t there an outdoor market where they throw fish at people?” Amber asks hesitantly.

You smile. “No, you’re thinking of Pike Place Market in Seattle. But there is something like that here in Vancouver, too—only better, I think. Granville Island. Great place to spend an afternoon. Let’s go.”

You and Amber spend a lovely few hours wandering around Granville Island. At one of the jewelry shops she falls in love with a pair of earrings—large dangling silver disks with an intricate Celtic pattern on them. They aren’t the sort of thing she usually wears, but she’s absolutely delighted when you buy them for her. “As soon as we get back to the room, I’m going to put them on,” she says eagerly, making you grin for joy at her pleasure in the gift.

Her favorite place on the Island is the Eagle Spirit Gallery; it’s her first exposure to the art of the Haida and other Northwest Coast peoples. It suddenly occurs to you that in bringing her here on a private jet, you cost Amber the opportunity to see “The Spirit of Haida Gwaii.” Surely you can get her into the terminal to see it. Given her fascination, you’ll have to add the Museum of Anthropology to your to-do list, not least so she can see Bill Reid’s other great sculpture (that you know of), “Raven and the First Men.”

You grab a couple wraps for a dinner of sorts (what with the travel, your schedule is off-shifted) and eat as you walk, then stroll hand in hand well into the evening. When Amber starts tiring rather abruptly, you make your way back to the car and drive back to the hotel. She’s starting to stumble by the time you make it up to your suite. “I’m sorry,” she says forlornly. “I wanted . . . but I think I’m too tired . . .”

“The day just caught up with you all at once,” you respond, stroking her gently. “Here, let’s get you to bed.” You put her to bed, then get ready and climb in next to her. You fall into a deep sleep with Amber snuggled contentedly in your arms.