He didn’t answer.

He didn’t need to.

“You don’t have to carry this by yourself either.”

Finally, he nodded.

“One day a week.”

Thursday.”

“No Saturdays.”

“Okay.”

“No Tuesdays.”

“Fine.”

“No skipping lunch to buy glitter.”

I smiled.

“Absolutely no promises about glitter.”

He laughed.

The paper crown fell off his head.

The next Thursday, I went with him.

I left work early and met him outside the visitation center.

Julian stood beside his car in his tie holding a paper bag.

“What’s in there?”

“Apple juice.”

“For Theo?”

“The boxes have dinosaurs on them.”

“Of course.”

We walked toward the familiar brick building.

I hadn’t been inside for fourteen years.

My hands started shaking.

Julian noticed.

Of course he did.

“You okay?”

“No.”

“Me neither.”

I looked at him.

“Every week?”

“Every week.”

Then he took my hand.

Inside, the room had changed slightly.