I
glanced at the bumper sticker on his truck.
“Maybe because you brake for turtles.”
Charlie looked at the sticker.
Then back at me.
“You know, I never thought of that.”
“And Julian?”
“Always Daddy Dinosaur.”
Then Charlie told me what had happened the previous afternoon.
The boy’s father didn’t come.
Third week in a row.
When the visit time ended, the little boy ran after Julian into the parking lot.
Wrapped both arms around his legs.
Wouldn’t let go.
Julian knelt down on the sidewalk and held him.
That was probably when the phone slipped from his jacket into the grass.
Charlie found it later while locking up.
I closed my eyes.
All the terrible possibilities I had imagined disappeared one by one.
No second family.
No secret child.
No other woman.
Just Julian kneeling on the sidewalk, holding a five-year-old whose father hadn’t shown up.
