The T. rex.

And the yellow paper crown.

I sat there waiting.

At 3:15, I heard the front door.

Julian had left work early.

“Dani?”

“In the kitchen.”

He appeared still wearing his suit and carrying his briefcase.

“You scared me. I told my boss there was a family emergency. What happened?”

Then he saw the table.

He stopped.

The briefcase slipped from his hand.

For the first time since I had known him, Julian seemed completely speechless.

“Charlie found your phone,” I said.

Then I lifted the paper crown.

“He found this too.”

Julian rubbed the back of his neck.

His face turned red.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t find out like this.”

I walked toward him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He looked at me carefully.

“I wasn’t hiding another life.”

“I know.”

“Charlie told you?”

“Pretty much everything.”

Julian groaned.

“The castle?”

“Yes.”

“The volcano?”

“Yes.”

I pointed toward his wrist.

“So that wasn’t marker.”

He almost smiled.

“No.”

“Daddy Dinosaur?”

Julian covered his face.

“Oh, God.”

“And Confused Turtle.”

“Charlie is an excellent turtle.”

Then his expression became serious.

“You told me something once.”

I waited.

“You told me the waiting room was the saddest place you’d ever seen.”

I nodded.

“I remember now.”

“You told me about Lily.”

I stared at him.

“You remember her name?”

“I remember everything from that night.”

Julian’s voice softened.

“You were crying because children sat there waiting for people who didn’t always come.”

He paused.

“And for years I kept thinking about what you said.”

“What?”

“What if somebody came anyway?”

My eyes filled again.

“Not their parent,” Julian continued. “Not somebody who could fix anything. Just somebody who always showed up. So the kid wouldn’t be alone while waiting.”

“So you became Daddy Dinosaur.”

He laughed quietly.

“I guess I did.”

“But why lie about it for an entire year?”

He sighed.

“I’m sorry about that.”

He took both my hands.

“Because I know you.”

I frowned.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You would have started volunteering too.”

I opened my mouth.

He continued before I could answer.

“Immediately.”

I smiled despite myself.

“Probably.”

“Definitely.”

He squeezed my hands.

“You would have learned every child’s name. Their birthday. Their favorite snack. Their favorite color.”

He wasn’t wrong.

“You’d spend your lunch breaks buying craft supplies.”

Also true.

“And every time a parent didn’t show up, you would carry that kid home emotionally.”

My smile faded.

“You’d cry in the car.”

He brushed a tear from my cheek.

“You carry everything, Dani. Work. Your mother. Your grandmother every March. Everyone else’s sadness.”

His voice softened.

“I wanted this to be one thing you didn’t have to carry.”

I stared at him.

“One thing I could carry for you,” he said.

For a moment, I couldn’t speak.

I looked at the man I had loved for twelve years.

The man from the dairy aisle.

The man who remembered sunflowers.

The man who remembered something I had said on our fourth date when even I had forgotten it.

I opened the paper crown.

Then carefully placed it on his head.

It sat crooked.

Julian laughed.

“What are you doing?”

I smiled through tears.

“Every Daddy Dinosaur deserves his crown.”

His eyes filled with tears.

“I wasn’t trying to be a hero.”

“I know.”

I rested my forehead against his.

“You remembered something I forgot.”

Later that evening, we sat on the couch eating cold soup.

Julian was still wearing the crown.

He claimed he had forgotten.

I didn’t remind him.

“The boy’s name is Theo,” he said.

“The one with the dinosaur?”

Julian nodded.

“He’s five.”

Charlie had told me Theo’s father had missed three Thursdays.

Julian explained more.

Theo’s father was in recovery.

He had been sober for almost a year.

Had a job at a car wash.

But didn’t own a car.

Sometimes the bus ran late.

Sometimes everything simply went wrong.

“He really is trying,” Julian said.

“But Theo still waits.”

“Yes.”

Theo sat beside the window every Thursday.

Watching the parking lot.

The first time Julian volunteered, Theo’s father didn’t arrive.

Julian sat down beside him.

“I didn’t know what to say. I’m an accountant. I have no idea how to talk to five-year-olds.”

“What did you say?”

“I asked what his dinosaur was called.”

“And?”

Julian smiled.

“He looked at me like I was an idiot and said T. rexes don’t have names because they’re too scary.”

I laughed.

“Then he told me I could be a dinosaur too. But I had to be the daddy one because I was big.”

“And you’ve been Daddy Dinosaur ever since.”

“Apparently.”

I told Julian what Charlie had said.

That Theo believed heroes always forgot something.

Julian looked at the little plastic dinosaur.

“I have to return this next week.”

“He sleeps with it, right?”

“Every night.”

“Then why give it to you?”

Julian stared at the toy for a long moment.

Finally, he said,

“His dad didn’t come.”

I waited.

“But I did.”

Then I understood.

Theo hadn’t given Julian his favorite toy.

He had created a reason for Julian to return.

The only way a five-year-old knew how to guarantee somebody would come back.

“Julian?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I come next Thursday?”

He looked at me.

“Dani.”

“I know.”

“You’re going to take everything home with you.”

“I know.”

“You’ll cry.”

“Probably.”