{"id":21118,"date":"2026-09-30T04:41:42","date_gmt":"2026-09-30T04:41:42","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/readingmydairy.com\/?p=21118"},"modified":"2026-09-30T04:41:42","modified_gmt":"2026-09-30T04:41:42","slug":"my-husband-lost-his-phone-until-a-stranger-revealed-where-he-found-it","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/readingmydairy.com\/?p=21118","title":{"rendered":"My Husband Lost His Phone Until A Stranger Revealed Where He Found It"},"content":{"rendered":"

Julian has always been the kind of person who notices the things most people miss.<\/strong><\/h1>\n

Not birthdays.<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

Not anniversaries.<\/p>\n

Anybody can save those dates in a phone and let an app remind them.<\/p>\n

Julian notices the smaller things.<\/p>\n

The things you never think to ask someone to remember.<\/p>\n

He can tell I\u2019ve had a terrible day before I say anything.<\/p>\n

I\u2019ll walk through the door, set my keys down, and he\u2019ll look at me from across the kitchen.<\/p>\n

\u201cBad day?\u201d<\/p>\n

I used to ask how he knew.<\/p>\n

He\u2019d shrug.<\/p>\n

\u201cYour shoulders.\u201d<\/p>\n

Or sometimes,<\/p>\n

\u201cThe way you put your keys down.\u201d<\/p>\n

He knows I reach for kettle-cooked salt-and-vinegar chips whenever I\u2019m stressed.<\/p>\n

So when I have an important deadline, a bag somehow appears beside my laptop.<\/p>\n

I never see him put it there.<\/p>\n

And he remembers March 14th.<\/p>\n

The day my grandmother died.<\/p>\n

Her name was Ruth.<\/p>\n

For several years of my childhood, Grandma Ruth was essentially the person who raised me.<\/p>\n

My parents had separated.<\/p>\n

Mom was working two jobs.<\/p>\n

So from age seven until I was twelve, I lived in Grandma\u2019s small yellow house on Poplar Street.<\/p>\n

She grew tomatoes in the backyard.<\/p>\n

Old country songs were almost always playing somewhere in the house.<\/p>\n

She could whistle through two fingers louder than anyone I had ever met.<\/p>\n

And she cheated shamelessly at Scrabble while insisting she had never broken a rule in her life.<\/p>\n

Grandma died nine years ago.<\/p>\n

March 14th.<\/p>\n

For the first few years after she passed, every March was difficult.<\/p>\n

I talked about her constantly.<\/p>\n

Sometimes I cried.<\/p>\n

Sometimes I told Julian stories he had already heard several times.<\/p>\n

Eventually, though, I stopped mentioning the date.<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t want every March to become a month of sadness.<\/p>\n

And I didn\u2019t want Julian to feel responsible for carrying it with me.<\/p>\n

Then, three years ago, March 14th arrived.<\/p>\n

Julian came home holding one sunflower wrapped in brown paper.<\/p>\n

Just one.<\/p>\n

He handed it to me in the kitchen.<\/p>\n

I stared at the flower.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s this?\u201d<\/p>\n

He looked almost confused by the question.<\/p>\n

\u201cI heard you talking to your cousin at Christmas a couple years ago,\u201d he said. \u201cYou said your grandmother hated roses.\u201d<\/p>\n

I stared at him.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe did.\u201d<\/p>\n

My voice started shaking.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe thought roses were too dramatic. She called them show-offs.\u201d<\/p>\n

Julian smiled.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd sunflowers?\u201d<\/p>\n

I laughed through tears.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe said sunflowers were honest. They just turn toward the sun and don\u2019t pretend to be anything else.\u201d<\/p>\n

He held the flower out again.<\/p>\n

\u201cI figured she would approve.\u201d<\/p>\n

I cried so hard I ended up sitting on the kitchen floor.<\/p>\n

That is Julian.<\/p>\n

Warm.<\/p>\n

Patient.<\/p>\n

Attentive in a way that has always made me feel safe.<\/p>\n

Like coming home at night and seeing the porch light already turned on.<\/p>\n

We met when we were twenty-three.<\/p>\n

In a grocery store.<\/p>\n

Very romantic.<\/p>\n

I was standing in the dairy aisle trying to choose milk when I reached for a carton of two percent.<\/p>\n

Someone else reached for the same carton at exactly the same time.<\/p>\n

Our hands touched.<\/p>\n

I looked up.<\/p>\n

Tall man.<\/p>\n

Messy brown hair.<\/p>\n

Glasses.<\/p>\n

A shopping basket containing an embarrassing number of frozen pizzas.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh,\u201d he said. \u201cSorry. You take it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, you take it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou were first.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, you were.\u201d<\/p>\n

He laughed.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou saw me?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou were reading yogurt labels for three minutes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThey\u2019re confusing.\u201d<\/p>\n

I raised an eyebrow.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy does some yogurt have fruit mixed in and other yogurt hide all the fruit at the bottom? Who decided that?\u201d<\/p>\n

I laughed.<\/p>\n

Ten minutes later, we were sitting in the caf\u00e9 across the street.<\/p>\n

Neither of us ever bought the milk.<\/p>\n

Twelve years later, we were married and still choosing each other.<\/p>\n

Our life had become almost wonderfully predictable.<\/p>\n

Julian left for work at 7:30 every morning.<\/p>\n

He worked as an accountant downtown.<\/p>\n

Coffee in a travel mug.<\/p>\n

One sugar.<\/p>\n

A little milk.<\/p>\n

Forehead kiss before leaving.<\/p>\n

If work wasn\u2019t too busy, he called me around lunch.<\/p>\n

\u201cJust wanted to hear your voice.\u201d<\/p>\n

Every Thursday after work, he went to the gym.<\/strong><\/h1>\n

That routine had been going on for about a year.<\/p>\n

And every evening when he came home, he walked straight past me toward whatever was cooking.<\/p>\n

He lifted the lid off every pot.<\/p>\n

Sniffed.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s this?\u201d<\/p>\n

Then, finally, he kissed me hello.<\/p>\n

I always teased him.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou might be the most predictable person alive.\u201d<\/p>\n

Julian considered that a compliment.<\/p>\n

\u201cPredictable means dependable.\u201d<\/p>\n

That was why Thursday felt so strange.<\/p>\n

The front door opened shortly after six.<\/p>\n

\u201cDani?\u201d<\/p>\n

Julian\u2019s voice echoed through the hall.<\/p>\n

Too loud.<\/p>\n

Too rushed.<\/p>\n

I stepped out of the kitchen with a dish towel in my hands.<\/p>\n

I had been making chicken soup.<\/p>\n

The second I saw him, I knew something was wrong.<\/p>\n

His tie was loose.<\/p>\n

His hair looked like he had been pulling at it.<\/p>\n

And he kept checking his pockets.<\/p>\n

Jacket.<\/p>\n

Pants.<\/p>\n

Back pockets.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy phone is gone.\u201d<\/p>\n

I blinked.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou lost something?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n

I almost laughed.<\/p>\n

In twelve years, Julian had barely misplaced a pen.<\/p>\n

He looked genuinely panicked.<\/p>\n

\u201cI had it when I left the office. I think. I put it in my jacket pocket. Then I changed at the gym, drove home, and somewhere between all of that\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

He spread his hands.<\/p>\n

Gone.<\/p>\n

For the next hour, we searched everything.<\/p>\n

His briefcase.<\/p>\n

Every pocket.<\/p>\n

Every folder.<\/p>\n

His gym bag.<\/p>\n

Shoes.<\/p>\n

Dirty clothes.<\/p>\n

The car.<\/p>\n

Under the seats.<\/p>\n

Inside the glove compartment.<\/p>\n

Cup holders.<\/p>\n

Door pockets.<\/p>\n

Trunk.<\/p>\n

I even checked grocery bags left from the previous night, despite there being absolutely no reason his phone should have been inside them.<\/p>\n

Nothing.<\/p>\n

We tried locating the phone through my laptop.<\/p>\n

The map loaded.<\/p>\n

Then displayed:<\/p>\n

Location unavailable.<\/p>\n

Device offline.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe battery probably died,\u201d Julian said. \u201cIt was around twelve percent when I left work.\u201d<\/p>\n

He leaned over the kitchen counter with his head lowered.<\/p>\n

\u201cI have years of client contacts on there.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe can replace the phone.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt isn\u2019t even just that.\u201d<\/p>\n

He rubbed his forehead.<\/p>\n

\u201cI hate losing things.\u201d<\/p>\n

I put both hands on his shoulders.<\/p>\n

The muscles were hard with tension.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re always saying most people are decent.\u201d<\/p>\n

He sighed.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo maybe a decent person found it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIf anyone could lose a phone and have the nicest person in town find it, it would be you.\u201d<\/p>\n

That finally got a small laugh out of him.<\/p>\n

By bedtime, he had mostly accepted the phone was gone.<\/p>\n

He ordered a replacement.<\/p>\n

His office IT department arranged a temporary device for the morning.<\/p>\n

Still, lying in bed that night, he sighed.<\/p>\n

\u201cI feel stupid.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFor losing a phone?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFor caring this much.\u201d<\/p>\n

I squeezed his hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re allowed to care.\u201d<\/p>\n

He kissed my forehead.<\/p>\n

\u201cGoodnight, Dani.\u201d<\/p>\n

After he fell asleep, I stayed awake for a while.<\/p>\n

That was when I remembered something.<\/p>\n

At dinner, when Julian removed his watch, I had noticed a streak of green across the back of his wrist.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat happened there?\u201d<\/p>\n

He glanced down.<\/p>\n

\u201cMarker.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMarker?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhiteboard presentation at work. Green marker leaked.\u201d<\/p>\n

I accepted the explanation immediately.<\/p>\n

Why wouldn\u2019t I?<\/p>\n

The next morning felt completely normal.<\/p>\n

Julian left early to pick up the temporary phone.<\/p>\n

I cleaned the kitchen.<\/p>\n

Watered the herbs outside.<\/p>\n

Started folding laundry on the couch.<\/p>\n

Around 9:30, my phone rang.<\/p>\n

The screen said:<\/p>\n

Julian.<\/p>\n

His smiling face appeared beside the name.<\/p>\n

I answered immediately.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou found it!\u201d<\/p>\n

Silence.<\/p>\n

Then a voice I had never heard before said,<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry, ma\u2019am. I don\u2019t believe we\u2019ve met.\u201d<\/p>\n

I sat upright.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy name is Charlie.\u201d<\/p>\n

He sounded older.<\/p>\n

Calm.<\/p>\n

A slight Southern accent.<\/p>\n

\u201cI found this phone yesterday. It was lying on the ground. Took me half the night to find a charger that worked with it. Once I got enough battery into it, I saw your number listed as the emergency contact.\u201d<\/p>\n

Relief washed over me.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou have no idea how happy I am to hear that.\u201d<\/p>\n

Charlie chuckled.<\/p>\n

\u201cI figured somebody was probably worried.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy husband searched his car twice.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, almost lost it for good.\u201d<\/p>\n

I smiled.<\/p>\n

\u201cI really appreciate you calling.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo trouble.\u201d<\/p>\n

Charlie offered to drop the phone off since he was already running errands.<\/p>\n

I gave him our address.<\/p>\n

He repeated every number back carefully.<\/p>\n

Before hanging up, he said,<\/p>\n

\u201cMy grandfather always told me returning something doesn\u2019t make you generous. It just means you did what you were supposed to do.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe sounds like a good man.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMail carrier for forty years,\u201d Charlie said. \u201cNever lost a letter.\u201d<\/p>\n

About fifteen minutes later, an older silver pickup pulled into our driveway.<\/p>\n

There was a bumper sticker that read:<\/p>\n

I BRAKE FOR TURTLES.<\/strong><\/h1>\n

Charlie stepped out holding Julian\u2019s phone.<\/p>\n

He was probably in his mid-sixties.<\/p>\n

Tall.<\/p>\n

Thin.<\/p>\n

Gray beard.<\/p>\n

Jeans.<\/p>\n

Flannel shirt.<\/p>\n

Weathered hands.<\/p>\n

He had the kind of eyes that wrinkled at the corners when he smiled.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou must be Dani.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDaniella technically.\u201d<\/p>\n

He laughed.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo he really does call you Dani.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe does.\u201d<\/p>\n

Charlie handed me the phone.<\/p>\n

There was a tiny scratch near one corner.<\/p>\n

Otherwise, it was fine.<\/p>\n

Julian\u2019s lock screen appeared.<\/p>\n

A picture from our wedding.<\/p>\n

The two of us laughing.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s perfect.\u201d<\/p>\n

I looked at Charlie.<\/p>\n

\u201cCan I give you something? Gas money? Anything?\u201d<\/p>\n

He immediately shook his head.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo need.\u201d<\/p>\n

He turned toward his truck.<\/p>\n

Then curiosity got the better of me.<\/p>\n

\u201cCharlie?\u201d<\/p>\n

He turned around.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere exactly did you find it? Julian has been trying to figure out whether he lost it at work or the gym.\u201d<\/p>\n

Charlie answered without hesitation.<\/p>\n

\u201cOutside the family visitation center downtown. Grant Street.\u201d<\/p>\n

My smile vanished.<\/p>\n

The phone suddenly felt heavier in my hand.<\/p>\n

I knew the building.<\/p>\n

A low brick structure on Grant Street.<\/p>\n

Small playground outside.<\/p>\n

A painted rainbow over the entrance.<\/p>\n

It was a place used for supervised visits between children and parents who, for various legal or family reasons, couldn\u2019t meet unsupervised.<\/p>\n

Custody disputes.<\/p>\n

Recovery programs.<\/p>\n

Court arrangements.<\/p>\n

Complicated families.<\/p>\n

Children sat there waiting for parents who sometimes came.<\/p>\n

Sometimes didn\u2019t.<\/p>\n

And the center was nowhere near Julian\u2019s office.<\/p>\n

It was nowhere near his gym either.<\/p>\n

Grant Street was twenty minutes away in the opposite direction.<\/p>\n

Charlie noticed my face.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry. Did I say something wrong?\u201d<\/p>\n

I stared down at Julian\u2019s phone.<\/p>\n

For twelve years, Julian had been the most reliable person I knew.<\/p>\n

The man who came home at almost the same time.<\/p>\n

Who called me at lunch.<\/p>\n

Who went to the gym every Thursday.<\/p>\n

Now I was standing on our porch wondering why his phone had been lying outside a family visitation center.<\/p>\n

Charlie shifted awkwardly.<\/p>\n

\u201cI hope I didn\u2019t cause trouble.\u201d<\/p>\n

I couldn\u2019t answer.<\/p>\n

Because I had been inside that building before.<\/p>\n

When I was nineteen, I volunteered there for a college psychology course.<\/p>\n

Four hours every Saturday.<\/p>\n

I thought it would be simple.<\/p>\n

Coloring with children.<\/p>\n

Reading stories.<\/p>\n

Playing games.<\/p>\n

It wasn\u2019t.<\/p>\n

I still remembered the waiting room.<\/p>\n

Yellow walls.<\/p>\n

Blue carpet.<\/p>\n

Plastic chairs.<\/p>\n

Donated toys.<\/p>\n

Picture books with missing pages.<\/p>\n

And a giant window facing the parking lot.<\/p>\n

The children watched that window constantly.<\/p>\n

Every car that entered.<\/p>\n

Every door that opened.<\/p>\n

Waiting.<\/p>\n

There was one little girl I never forgot.<\/p>\n

Lily.<\/p>\n

Six years old.<\/p>\n

Purple ribbons in her pigtails.<\/p>\n

Every Saturday, she brought a new drawing for her mother.<\/p>\n

A rainbow.<\/p>\n

A cat.<\/p>\n

A house.<\/p>\n

The first two weeks I volunteered, her mother came.<\/p>\n

On the third week, she didn\u2019t.<\/p>\n

Lily sat beside the window for an hour holding a drawing of herself and her mother holding hands.<\/p>\n

At the top, in purple letters, she had written:<\/p>\n

ME AND MOMMY.<\/p>\n

Eventually, a staff member knelt beside her.<\/p>\n

\u201cYour mom couldn\u2019t come today, sweetheart.\u201d<\/p>\n

Lily didn\u2019t cry.<\/p>\n

That was the part that broke me.<\/p>\n

She simply folded her drawing into a neat little square.<\/p>\n

Put it in her pocket.<\/p>\n

And said,<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay.\u201d<\/p>\n

Like she already knew how disappointment worked.<\/p>\n

I cried in my car for an hour afterward.<\/p>\n

That evening, I had dinner with Julian.<\/p>\n

Our fourth date.<\/p>\n

He noticed immediately that something was wrong.<\/p>\n

Of course he did.<\/p>\n

I told him about Lily.<\/p>\n

About the children watching the parking lot.<\/p>\n

About the folded drawing.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s the loneliest room I\u2019ve ever seen,\u201d I told him.<\/p>\n

Then I said something I had almost completely forgotten.<\/p>\n

\u201cNobody should have to wait for someone who might never come.\u201d<\/p>\n

Julian held my hand across the table.<\/p>\n

He knew exactly what that place meant to me.<\/p>\n

So why had he been there?<\/p>\n

Charlie brought me back to the present.<\/p>\n

\u201cDani?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n

He hesitated.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou look worried.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI am.\u201d<\/p>\n

Then Charlie said something that made my heartbeat jump.<\/p>\n

\u201cI thought you might be.\u201d<\/p>\n

I stared at him.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou know Julian?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI wouldn\u2019t say I know him well.\u201d<\/p>\n

He glanced toward his truck.<\/p>\n

\u201cBut I\u2019ve seen him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow often?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEvery Thursday.\u201d<\/p>\n

I stopped breathing.<\/p>\n

\u201cFor almost a year.\u201d<\/p>\n

Yesterday had been Thursday.<\/p>\n

Gym day.<\/p>\n

Every Thursday for nearly a year.<\/p>\n

Julian had supposedly been at the gym.<\/p>\n

Instead, Charlie had seen him at the visitation center.<\/p>\n

My mind immediately filled in the worst explanations.<\/p>\n

A child I didn\u2019t know about.<\/p>\n

Another relationship.<\/p>\n

A custody case.<\/p>\n

Another family.<\/p>\n

Twelve years of marriage suddenly felt less certain.<\/p>\n

Charlie must have seen the panic on my face.<\/p>\n

He lifted a hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cDani, I think you\u2019re imagining something that isn\u2019t happening.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen please tell me.\u201d<\/p>\n

He hesitated.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt should probably come from Julian.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy husband has been going somewhere every Thursday for a year and lying to me about it.\u201d<\/p>\n

My voice cracked.<\/p>\n

\u201cI need to understand.\u201d<\/p>\n

Charlie\u2019s expression softened.<\/p>\n

\u201cI volunteer there.\u201d<\/p>\n

I frowned.<\/p>\n

\u201cAt the center?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes. Most Thursdays. Have for about six years.\u201d<\/p>\n

He explained that his grandson had once gone through supervised visitation.<\/p>\n

After seeing what the waiting room was like, Charlie continued volunteering even after his family no longer needed the service.<\/p>\n

Then he said,<\/p>\n

\u201cJulian volunteers too.\u201d<\/p>\n

I stared at him.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEvery Thursday.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe never told me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t think he wanted people to know.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n

Charlie thought for a second.<\/p>\n

\u201cProbably because he wasn\u2019t doing it so people would know.\u201d<\/p>\n

Then he told me what Julian actually did there.<\/p>\n

Every Thursday around four, Julian arrived straight from work.<\/p>\n

Still wearing his tie.<\/p>\n

Sometimes he read stories.<\/p>\n

Sometimes he colored.<\/p>\n

Sometimes he helped kids build castles from cardboard boxes.<\/p>\n

He did ridiculous character voices.<\/p>\n

Apparently, the children loved them.<\/p>\n

Sometimes the entire waiting room became a dinosaur world.<\/p>\n

Julian would crawl across the carpet roaring because one particular five-year-old thought that was hilarious.<\/p>\n

Yesterday, the children had built a cardboard volcano.<\/p>\n

Then painted it green.<\/p>\n

Green.<\/p>\n

My mind flashed back to Julian\u2019s wrist.<\/p>\n

The streak I had seen at dinner.<\/p>\n

Marker, he had said.<\/p>\n

It hadn\u2019t been marker.<\/p>\n

It had been paint.<\/p>\n

From a cardboard volcano.<\/p>\n

Charlie smiled.<\/p>\n

\u201cOne little boy especially loves him.\u201d<\/p>\n

Five years old.<\/p>\n

He had been coming every Thursday for roughly ten months.<\/p>\n

His father was supposed to arrive at 4:30.<\/p>\n

Sometimes he did.<\/p>\n

Sometimes he didn\u2019t.<\/p>\n

The boy refused to play unless Julian agreed to become Daddy Dinosaur.<\/p>\n

I almost laughed.<\/p>\n

\u201cDaddy Dinosaur?\u201d<\/p>\n

Charlie nodded seriously.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, yes. The kids assign everybody roles.\u201d<\/p>\n

Apparently, one staff member was Baby Triceratops.<\/p>\n

Charlie had somehow been assigned the role of Confused Turtle.<\/p>\n

I glanced at the bumper sticker on his truck.<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe because you brake for turtles.\u201d<\/p>\n

Charlie looked at the sticker.<\/p>\n

Then back at me.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou know, I never thought of that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd Julian?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAlways Daddy Dinosaur.\u201d<\/p>\n

Then Charlie told me what had happened the previous afternoon.<\/p>\n

The boy\u2019s father didn\u2019t come.<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

Third week in a row.<\/p>\n

When the visit time ended, the little boy ran after Julian into the parking lot.<\/p>\n

Wrapped both arms around his legs.<\/p>\n

Wouldn\u2019t let go.<\/p>\n

Julian knelt down on the sidewalk and held him.<\/p>\n

That was probably when the phone slipped from his jacket into the grass.<\/p>\n

Charlie found it later while locking up.<\/p>\n

I closed my eyes.<\/p>\n

All the terrible possibilities I had imagined disappeared one by one.<\/p>\n

No second family.<\/p>\n

No secret child.<\/p>\n

No other woman.<\/p>\n

Just Julian kneeling on the sidewalk, holding a five-year-old whose father hadn\u2019t shown up.<\/p>\n

But one question remained.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy didn\u2019t he tell me?\u201d<\/p>\n

Charlie walked back to his truck.<\/p>\n

When he returned, he carried something small.<\/p>\n

A green plastic T. rex.<\/p>\n

It was cheap.<\/p>\n

Worn.<\/p>\n

One plastic eye was missing and had been replaced with a crooked marker drawing.<\/p>\n

The tail had broken off at some point and was held together with several layers of tape.<\/p>\n

Obviously, somebody loved it.<\/p>\n

Charlie placed it in my hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe little guy told me Daddy Dinosaur forgot this.\u201d<\/p>\n

I stared at it.<\/p>\n

\u201cI can\u2019t take this. It must belong to him.\u201d<\/p>\n

Charlie nodded.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt does.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen why did he give it away?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe said Daddy Dinosaur needs it more.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n

Charlie smiled.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe said heroes always forget something.\u201d<\/p>\n

I swallowed hard.<\/p>\n

Then Charlie reached into his shirt pocket again.<\/p>\n

He pulled out a folded piece of construction paper.<\/p>\n

When he opened it, I saw a homemade crown.<\/p>\n

Yellow paper.<\/p>\n

Crayon.<\/p>\n

Crooked stickers.<\/p>\n

Stars.<\/p>\n

Hearts.<\/p>\n

One sticker said GREAT JOB!<\/p>\n

Across the front, in uneven blue letters, someone had written:<\/p>\n

KING DINOSAUR.<\/p>\n

I laughed through the tears.<\/p>\n

Charlie smiled.<\/p>\n

\u201cThey made Julian wear that yesterday.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAll afternoon?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAlmost. He tried taking it off once to answer a work call.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat happened?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe children held a vote.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSix to one against him.\u201d<\/p>\n

For the first time since hearing the words Grant Street, I genuinely laughed.<\/p>\n

Then something clicked in my mind.<\/p>\n

I told Charlie about Lily.<\/p>\n

About volunteering there in college.<\/p>\n

About crying to Julian during our fourth date.<\/p>\n

About the sentence I had said.<\/p>\n

Nobody should have to wait for somebody who might never come.<\/p>\n

Charlie nodded slowly.<\/p>\n

\u201cI think he remembers.\u201d<\/p>\n

My chest tightened.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n

Charlie explained that several months earlier, while they were cleaning up the waiting room, he had asked Julian why he volunteered.<\/p>\n

A busy accountant.<\/p>\n

No children of his own.<\/p>\n

Driving across town every Thursday.<\/p>\n

Julian had answered,<\/p>\n

\u201cMy wife once told me this was the loneliest room she\u2019d ever seen.\u201d<\/p>\n

Charlie looked at me.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe said if even one kid knew somebody would show up every Thursday no matter what, maybe the waiting wouldn\u2019t feel quite so lonely.\u201d<\/p>\n

I started crying.<\/p>\n

I had forgotten that conversation.<\/p>\n

Twelve years ago.<\/p>\n

Fourth date.<\/p>\n

Italian restaurant.<\/p>\n

Julian hadn\u2019t.<\/p>\n

Eventually, Charlie checked his watch.<\/p>\n

\u201cI need to get my granddaughter from ballet.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCharlie, thank you.\u201d<\/p>\n

He shook his head.<\/p>\n

\u201cThank your husband.\u201d<\/p>\n

Then he climbed into his old silver pickup and drove away.<\/p>\n

I stayed on the porch for a long time.<\/p>\n

Julian\u2019s phone in one hand.<\/p>\n

The little green dinosaur in the other.<\/p>\n

The paper crown across my lap.<\/p>\n

KING DINOSAUR.<\/p>\n

I kept thinking about all those Thursdays.<\/p>\n

All those afternoons Julian had driven across town in a suit and tie.<\/p>\n

All the cardboard castles.<\/p>\n

All the books.<\/p>\n

All the ridiculous dinosaur noises.<\/p>\n

All the children waiting by a window.<\/p>\n

And one small boy who knew that even when his father didn\u2019t arrive, Daddy Dinosaur would.<\/p>\n

I sent Julian an email at work.<\/p>\n

We need to talk when you get home.<\/p>\n

The second I sent it, I realized how terrifying that sentence sounded.<\/p>\n

Four minutes later, he replied.<\/p>\n

Everything okay, Dani?<\/p>\n

I looked down at the dinosaur.<\/p>\n

Come home safely. We\u2019ll talk then.<\/p>\n

The next few hours felt endless.<\/p>\n

Eventually, I arranged everything on the kitchen table.<\/p>\n

Julian\u2019s recovered phone.<\/p>\n

The T. rex.<\/p>\n

And the yellow paper crown.<\/p>\n

I sat there waiting.<\/p>\n

At 3:15, I heard the front door.<\/p>\n

Julian had left work early.<\/p>\n

\u201cDani?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIn the kitchen.\u201d<\/p>\n

He appeared still wearing his suit and carrying his briefcase.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou scared me. I told my boss there was a family emergency. What happened?\u201d<\/p>\n

Then he saw the table.<\/p>\n

He stopped.<\/p>\n

The briefcase slipped from his hand.<\/p>\n

For the first time since I had known him, Julian seemed completely speechless.<\/p>\n

\u201cCharlie found your phone,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

Then I lifted the paper crown.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe found this too.\u201d<\/p>\n

Julian rubbed the back of his neck.<\/p>\n

His face turned red.<\/p>\n

\u201cI was hoping you wouldn\u2019t find out like this.\u201d<\/p>\n

I walked toward him.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy didn\u2019t you tell me?\u201d<\/p>\n

He looked at me carefully.<\/p>\n

\u201cI wasn\u2019t hiding another life.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCharlie told you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPretty much everything.\u201d<\/p>\n

Julian groaned.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe castle?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe volcano?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n

I pointed toward his wrist.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo that wasn\u2019t marker.\u201d<\/p>\n

He almost smiled.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDaddy Dinosaur?\u201d<\/p>\n

Julian covered his face.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, God.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd Confused Turtle.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCharlie is an excellent turtle.\u201d<\/p>\n

Then his expression became serious.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou told me something once.\u201d<\/p>\n

I waited.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou told me the waiting room was the saddest place you\u2019d ever seen.\u201d<\/p>\n

I nodded.<\/p>\n

\u201cI remember now.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou told me about Lily.\u201d<\/p>\n

I stared at him.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou remember her name?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI remember everything from that night.\u201d<\/p>\n

Julian\u2019s voice softened.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou were crying because children sat there waiting for people who didn\u2019t always come.\u201d<\/p>\n

He paused.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd for years I kept thinking about what you said.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat if somebody came anyway?\u201d<\/p>\n

My eyes filled again.<\/p>\n

\u201cNot their parent,\u201d Julian continued. \u201cNot somebody who could fix anything. Just somebody who always showed up. So the kid wouldn\u2019t be alone while waiting.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo you became Daddy Dinosaur.\u201d<\/p>\n

He laughed quietly.<\/p>\n

\u201cI guess I did.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut why lie about it for an entire year?\u201d<\/p>\n

He sighed.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry about that.\u201d<\/p>\n

He took both my hands.<\/p>\n

\u201cBecause I know you.\u201d<\/strong><\/h1>\n

I frowned.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat is that supposed to mean?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou would have started volunteering too.\u201d<\/p>\n

I opened my mouth.<\/p>\n

He continued before I could answer.<\/p>\n

\u201cImmediately.\u201d<\/p>\n

I smiled despite myself.<\/p>\n

\u201cProbably.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDefinitely.\u201d<\/p>\n

He squeezed my hands.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou would have learned every child\u2019s name. Their birthday. Their favorite snack. Their favorite color.\u201d<\/p>\n

He wasn\u2019t wrong.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019d spend your lunch breaks buying craft supplies.\u201d<\/p>\n

Also true.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd every time a parent didn\u2019t show up, you would carry that kid home emotionally.\u201d<\/p>\n

My smile faded.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019d cry in the car.\u201d<\/p>\n

He brushed a tear from my cheek.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou carry everything, Dani. Work. Your mother. Your grandmother every March. Everyone else\u2019s sadness.\u201d<\/p>\n

His voice softened.<\/p>\n

\u201cI wanted this to be one thing you didn\u2019t have to carry.\u201d<\/p>\n

I stared at him.<\/p>\n

\u201cOne thing I could carry for you,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

For a moment, I couldn\u2019t speak.<\/p>\n

I looked at the man I had loved for twelve years.<\/p>\n

The man from the dairy aisle.<\/p>\n

The man who remembered sunflowers.<\/p>\n

The man who remembered something I had said on our fourth date when even I had forgotten it.<\/p>\n

I opened the paper crown.<\/p>\n

Then carefully placed it on his head.<\/p>\n

It sat crooked.<\/p>\n

Julian laughed.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat are you doing?\u201d<\/p>\n

I smiled through tears.<\/p>\n

\u201cEvery Daddy Dinosaur deserves his crown.\u201d<\/p>\n

His eyes filled with tears.<\/p>\n

\u201cI wasn\u2019t trying to be a hero.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n

I rested my forehead against his.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou remembered something I forgot.\u201d<\/p>\n

Later that evening, we sat on the couch eating cold soup.<\/p>\n

Julian was still wearing the crown.<\/p>\n

He claimed he had forgotten.<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t remind him.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe boy\u2019s name is Theo,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe one with the dinosaur?\u201d<\/p>\n

Julian nodded.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s five.\u201d<\/p>\n

Charlie had told me Theo\u2019s father had missed three Thursdays.<\/p>\n

Julian explained more.<\/p>\n

Theo\u2019s father was in recovery.<\/p>\n

He had been sober for almost a year.<\/p>\n

Had a job at a car wash.<\/p>\n

But didn\u2019t own a car.<\/p>\n

Sometimes the bus ran late.<\/p>\n

Sometimes everything simply went wrong.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe really is trying,\u201d Julian said.<\/p>\n

\u201cBut Theo still waits.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n

Theo sat beside the window every Thursday.<\/p>\n

Watching the parking lot.<\/p>\n

The first time Julian volunteered, Theo\u2019s father didn\u2019t arrive.<\/p>\n

Julian sat down beside him.<\/p>\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t know what to say. I\u2019m an accountant. I have no idea how to talk to five-year-olds.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat did you say?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI asked what his dinosaur was called.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd?\u201d<\/p>\n

Julian smiled.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe looked at me like I was an idiot and said T. rexes don\u2019t have names because they\u2019re too scary.\u201d<\/p>\n

I laughed.<\/p>\n

\u201cThen he told me I could be a dinosaur too. But I had to be the daddy one because I was big.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd you\u2019ve been Daddy Dinosaur ever since.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cApparently.\u201d<\/p>\n

I told Julian what Charlie had said.<\/p>\n

That Theo believed heroes always forgot something.<\/p>\n

Julian looked at the little plastic dinosaur.<\/p>\n

\u201cI have to return this next week.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe sleeps with it, right?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEvery night.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen why give it to you?\u201d<\/p>\n

Julian stared at the toy for a long moment.<\/p>\n

Finally, he said,<\/p>\n

\u201cHis dad didn\u2019t come.\u201d<\/p>\n

I waited.<\/p>\n

\u201cBut I did.\u201d<\/p>\n

Then I understood.<\/p>\n

Theo hadn\u2019t given Julian his favorite toy.<\/p>\n

He had created a reason for Julian to return.<\/p>\n

The only way a five-year-old knew how to guarantee somebody would come back.<\/p>\n

\u201cJulian?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCan I come next Thursday?\u201d<\/p>\n

He looked at me.<\/p>\n

\u201cDani.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re going to take everything home with you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019ll cry.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cProbably.\u201d<\/p>\n

He hesitated.<\/p>\n

Then I said,<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019ve been carrying it alone for a year.\u201d<\/p>\n

Julian looked away.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou lie awake too, don\u2019t you? On the nights Theo\u2019s dad doesn\u2019t arrive.\u201d<\/p>\n

He didn\u2019t answer.<\/p>\n

He didn\u2019t need to.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t have to carry this by yourself either.\u201d<\/p>\n

Finally, he nodded.<\/p>\n

\u201cOne day a week.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThursday.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo Saturdays.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo Tuesdays.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFine.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo skipping lunch to buy glitter.\u201d<\/p>\n

I smiled.<\/p>\n

\u201cAbsolutely no promises about glitter.\u201d<\/p>\n

He laughed.<\/p>\n

The paper crown fell off his head.<\/p>\n

The next Thursday, I went with him.<\/p>\n

I left work early and met him outside the visitation center.<\/p>\n

Julian stood beside his car in his tie holding a paper bag.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s in there?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cApple juice.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFor Theo?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe boxes have dinosaurs on them.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course.\u201d<\/p>\n

We walked toward the familiar brick building.<\/strong><\/h1>\n

I hadn\u2019t been inside for fourteen years.<\/p>\n

My hands started shaking.<\/p>\n

Julian noticed.<\/p>\n

Of course he did.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou okay?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMe neither.\u201d<\/p>\n

I looked at him.<\/p>\n

\u201cEvery week?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEvery week.\u201d<\/p>\n

Then he took my hand.<\/p>\n

Inside, the room had changed slightly.<\/p>\n

Different carpet.<\/p>\n

Different paint.<\/p>\n

Newer books.<\/p>\n

But the plastic chairs were still lined beneath the big window facing the parking lot.<\/p>\n

And in the chair closest to the glass sat a little boy.<\/p>\n

Five years old.<\/p>\n

Messy brown hair.<\/p>\n

Dinosaur shirt.<\/p>\n

Shoes that flashed when he moved.<\/p>\n

He was watching the parking lot.<\/p>\n

Then he heard the door.<\/p>\n

Turned around.<\/p>\n

Saw Julian.<\/p>\n

His entire face lit up.<\/p>\n

\u201cDADDY DINOSAUR!\u201d<\/p>\n

Theo launched himself across the room.<\/p>\n

His shoes flashed with every step.<\/p>\n

He crashed into Julian\u2019s legs.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou came back!\u201d<\/p>\n

Julian laughed and knelt down.<\/p>\n

Theo immediately asked,<\/p>\n

\u201cDid you bring him?\u201d<\/p>\n

Julian reached into his jacket.<\/p>\n

Pulled out the green T. rex.<\/p>\n

Theo hugged it against his chest.<\/p>\n

\u201cI knew you\u2019d come back.\u201d<\/p>\n

Then he whispered,<\/p>\n

\u201cHeroes always come back.\u201d<\/p>\n

A moment later, Theo noticed me.<\/p>\n

He studied me very seriously.<\/p>\n

\u201cWho\u2019s she?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s my wife. Dani.\u201d<\/p>\n

Theo considered this.<\/p>\n

\u201cIs she a dinosaur?\u201d<\/p>\n

Julian looked at me.<\/p>\n

I knelt beside them.<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

\u201cI\u2019d like to be. What kind should I be?\u201d<\/p>\n

Theo tilted his head.<\/p>\n

Then gave his decision.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou can be Mommy Dinosaur. Daddy Dinosaur needs somebody.\u201d<\/p>\n

For a second, I forgot how to breathe.<\/p>\n

Julian squeezed my hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay,\u201d I whispered. \u201cMommy Dinosaur it is.\u201d<\/p>\n

Theo nodded, satisfied.<\/p>\n

\u201cGood. We need a nest.\u201d<\/p>\n

He pointed across the room.<\/p>\n

\u201cCharlie\u2019s the turtle. He doesn\u2019t know what he\u2019s doing.\u201d<\/p>\n

Charlie sat surrounded by cardboard boxes.<\/p>\n

He waved.<\/p>\n

\u201cI really don\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n

At 4:34, Theo\u2019s father came through the front door.<\/p>\n

Four minutes late.<\/p>\n

Out of breath.<\/p>\n

Still wearing his car wash uniform.<\/p>\n

\u201cSorry. The bus was late.\u201d<\/p>\n

Theo looked up.<\/p>\n

Then dropped everything.<\/p>\n

Crayons.<\/p>\n

Cardboard.<\/p>\n

Even the dinosaur.<\/p>\n

\u201cDADDY!\u201d<\/p>\n

He ran across the room.<\/p>\n

His father dropped to his knees and caught him.<\/p>\n

Held him tightly.<\/p>\n

His shoulders shook.<\/p>\n

Julian and I watched quietly.<\/p>\n

After a while, Julian picked up the green dinosaur and placed it carefully on Theo\u2019s chair beside the window.<\/p>\n

Where he would find it later.<\/p>\n

On the drive home, I cried.<\/p>\n

Exactly as Julian predicted.<\/p>\n

He never said I told you so.<\/p>\n

He simply held my hand across the center console.<\/p>\n

\u201cIs it like that every week?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n

I looked at him.<\/p>\n

\u201cSometimes his dad doesn\u2019t come.\u201d<\/p>\n

He paused.<\/p>\n

\u201cThose weeks are harder.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow do you keep doing it?\u201d<\/p>\n

Julian thought for a moment.<\/p>\n

Then repeated the words I had once given him.<\/p>\n

\u201cNobody should have to wait for someone who might never come.\u201d<\/p>\n

I nodded.<\/p>\n

\u201cI remember.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI can\u2019t fix Theo\u2019s father.\u201d<\/p>\n

He squeezed my hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cI can\u2019t fix transportation. Recovery. Custody. Any of it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Then he looked at me.<\/p>\n

\u201cBut while Theo is waiting, I can make sure he isn\u2019t waiting alone.\u201d<\/p>\n

The paper crown hangs on our refrigerator now.<\/p>\n

Held up by a sunflower magnet.<\/p>\n

KING DINOSAUR.<\/p>\n

The GREAT JOB sticker is still peeling off one corner.<\/p>\n

Julian once tried removing it.<\/p>\n

\u201cPeople are going to ask questions.\u201d<\/p>\n

I put it right back.<\/p>\n

\u201cGood.\u201d<\/p>\n

I go with him every Thursday now.<\/p>\n

Only Thursdays.<\/p>\n

That was our agreement.<\/p>\n

And yes, I sometimes skip lunch and buy glitter.<\/p>\n

Julian pretends this annoys him.<\/p>\n

It doesn\u2019t.<\/p>\n

For years, I thought I knew my husband completely.<\/p>\n

Coffee at 7:30.<\/p>\n

One sugar.<\/p>\n

Forehead kiss.<\/p>\n

Thursday gym.<\/p>\n

Every pot lid lifted before he said hello.<\/p>\n

Then a stranger stood on my porch and told me where Julian\u2019s missing phone had been found.<\/p>\n

For one awful moment, I thought the man I trusted most had been living another life behind my back.<\/p>\n

I was right about one thing.<\/p>\n

There was a secret.<\/p>\n

It simply wasn\u2019t the kind I feared.<\/p>\n

Sometimes the biggest thing the person you love is hiding isn\u2019t betrayal.<\/p>\n

It isn\u2019t another partner.<\/p>\n

Another family.<\/p>\n

Another life.<\/p>\n

Sometimes it\u2019s simply the good they\u2019ve been doing quietly.<\/p>\n

Every Thursday afternoon.<\/p>\n

On their hands and knees on a green carpet.<\/p>\n

Wearing a paper crown.<\/p>\n

When they thought nobody was watching.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Julian has always been the kind of person who notices the things most people miss. Not birthdays. Not anniversaries. Anybody can save those dates in a phone and let an … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":18247,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[14,15,13],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-21118","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-family","category-inspiration","category-story"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/readingmydairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21118","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/readingmydairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/readingmydairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readingmydairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readingmydairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=21118"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/readingmydairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21118\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":21119,"href":"https:\/\/readingmydairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21118\/revisions\/21119"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readingmydairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/18247"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/readingmydairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=21118"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readingmydairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=21118"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readingmydairy.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=21118"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}