<\/p>\n
have that kind of money in our checking account,\u201d I said. \u201cArthur has frozen our access to the business funds.\u201d Continue Reading \u2192 Sarah watched me, her expression professional but not unkind, her gaze lingering on my silver band. \u201cI cannot file the initial paperwork without the retainer, Mrs. Miller,\u201d she said. \u201cThe county clerk requires the filing<\/p>\n
The stack of unpaid fuel bills on Ben\u2019s desk was three inches high, smelling of damp earth from the work boots of the crew. Arthur stood in the doorway of the small trailer office, his heavy brass ring tapping against the metal frame. \u201cI need the keys to the file cabinet, Elena,\u201d Arthur said. I moved a stack of invoices for the November lawn cleanups,my thumb rubbing the silver band on my left ring finger. \u201cBen always handles the commercial accounts himself.\u201d \u201cBen is in Room 412,\u201d Arthur said, his voice filling the narrow trailer. \u201cThe city winter contract needs a signature by five o\u2019clock, or we lose the salt route.\u201d He tapped the ring again, three quick strikes on the metal. \u201cI can take thepaperwork to the hospital during lunch,\u201d I said. \u201cHe does not need to be reading spreadsheets right now,\u201d Arthur said. \u201cJust give me the ledger for the payroll account, and I will handle the rest.\u201d I looked down at the oak desk, noticing the lower drawer was firmly shut. \u201cI will look for the key after I visit him,\u201d I said. Arthur took a step closer his heavy work boots creaking on the linoleum. \u201cDo not wait too long, Elena. Some decisions cannot be put off.\u201d By two in the afternoon, the pale autumn sun had disappeared behind the grey brick wall of the Saint Jude annex. Ben lay back against the white pillows of Room 412, his breathing light and shallow. I reached over to pull the green thermal blanket up to his chin, tucking the edge under his shoulder. \u201cYou look tired, El,\u201d Ben said, his voice a raspy whisper. He reached up to rub his left temple, his eyes closing against the harsh fluorescent light of the ceiling. \u201cI am fine,\u201d I said. \u201cArthur asked about the city contract.\u201d Before Ben could answer, his chest rose sharply, his hands gripping the side rails of the hospital bed. He gasped, a dry, hollow sound that seemed to pull all the air from the room, and his head fell back hard against the pillow. The red light on the wall above the bed began to flash. Continue Reading \u2192 Dr. Charles Marcus stood near the hallway drinking fountain, holding a metal clipboard against his white coat. He adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses, looking down at the chart before he looked up at me. \u201cThe latest scan shows the tumor has spread to the lining of the lungs, Elena,\u201d Dr. Marcus said, his voice slow and deliberate. I held my breath, waiting for the words he had been keeping back for weeks. \u201cThere are no more treatments we can offer to change this,\u201d he said. \u201cWe are looking at weeks now, not months.\u201d I reached for the silver band on my finger, twisting it until the skin turned red. \u201cHe wants to walk down the aisle,\u201d I said. \u201cWe bought the invitations.\u201d Dr. Marcus put a hand on my shoulder, his fingers warm and steady. \u201cWe will do everything we can to keep him comfortable.\u201d The parking lot of GreenLeaf Landscaping was dark when I got back to my car, the gravel crunching under my shoes. Arthur was leaning against the driver\u2019s side door of my Buick, holding a stainless steel flask. \u201cI brought you some hot tea,\u201d Arthur said, stepping back so I could reach the handle. \u201cYou look like you need it.\u201d He poured a cup of lukewarm liquid and handed it to me, the heavy brass ring on his hand catching the light of the halogen street lamp. \u201cThanks,\u201d I said, holding the paper cup but not drinking. The smell of damp earth on his work boots was strong in the cold air. \u201cI spoke to the bank,\u201d Arthur said, his voice dropping to a quiet, urgent tone. \u201cIf something happens to Ben, the business accounts will be frozen during probate.\u201d I stared at him, my head spinning with the doctor\u2019s words. \u201cWe need to get his affairs in order before he slips away,\u201d Arthur said, tapping the folded paper against his palm. Continue Reading \u2192 \u201cWhat is that?\u201d I asked. \u201cA buyout agreement,\u201d Arthur said. \u201cHe needs to sign over his shares to me immediately to avoid legal trouble for you.\u201d I stared down at the gray parking lot gravel, realizing my wedding invitations were now completely meaningless. The office of Green Leaf Landscaping was quiet at ten in the morning, smelling of damp mud and stale coffee from the early crew. I stood in front of Ben\u2019s desk, my hand resting on the smooth oak wood where his personal files were kept. I tried the handle of the top drawer, but the metal ring did not move. It was locked tight. \u201cThat drawer is off-limits for a while, Elena,\u201d Arthur said from the doorway. He was leaning against the frame, his boots leaving dry crusts of soil on the clean linoleum. He was holding a stack of white invoices, his heavy brass ring tapping against the hard plastic of his clipboard. \u201cWhere is the key, Arthur?\u201d I asked, turning around to face him. \u201cBen always kept the spare in the ceramic cup on the shelf.\u201d Continue Reading \u2192 \u201cMust have misplaced it,\u201d Arthur said, stepping into the room. \u201cThe bank asked us to keep things secured until we get the partnership sorted out. Don\u2019t you worry about those files.\u201d \u201cI need to look up the payroll ledger from last month,\u201d I said, my thumb twisting the plain silver band on my finger. \u201cBen asked me to check on the city contract expenses.\u201d \u201cI told you, I\u2019ll handle the paperwork,\u201d Arthur said. He set the invoices on his own desk with a loud thud, not looking at me. \u201cYour place is at the hospital. Go on back to Saint Jude.\u201d \u201cThe lock is brand new, Arthur,\u201d I said, pointing to the shiny brass core. \u201cThe old one was silver.\u201d \u201cI had the locksmith come out Tuesday,\u201d Arthur said, tapping his brass ring against the wood. \u201cWe had some security concerns. Some files went missing from the desk.\u201d \u201cNothing goes missing from Ben\u2019s desk,\u201d I said, my voice quiet. \u201cHe keeps everything in perfect order.\u201d \u201cWell, things change,\u201d Arthur said, his boisterous tone returning as he stepped closer. \u201cWe have a business to run, Elena. Ben isn\u2019t here to do it, so I am.\u201d Continue Reading \u2192 The heat in Room 412 was dry and smelled of rubbing alcohol. Ben lay propped against two pillows, his face pale under the white fluorescent lights. I sat in the vinyl chair beside his bed, holding his silver pocket watch. The metal felt cold in my hand as I used the edge of my sleeve to polish the glass face, rubbing away a small smudge near the dial. \u201cHe brought it from the farm when he was sixteen,\u201d Ben said, his eyes tracking my hand. \u201cIt never lost a minute.\u201d \u201cI\u2019ll wind it for you,\u201d I said. \u201cNo, don\u2019t wind it,\u201d Ben said, his voice raspy and thin. \u201cJust keep it close. I don\u2019t want Arthur seeing it.\u201d \u201cI can leave it right here on your bedside table,\u201d I said. \u201cSo you can see the time.\u201d \u201cNo,\u201d he said, reaching out to touch my wrist. \u201cKeep it with you. Do not let Arthur take anything from our house, Elena.\u201d I looked at him, my throat tightening. He was rubbing his left temple with his thumb, his eyes fixed on the small silver case. \u201cDid Arthur ask you about the watch?\u201d I asked. Continue Reading \u2192 \u201cJust keep it safe,\u201d Ben whispered, his hand dropping back to the sheet. \u201cHe was asking about a lot of things.\u201d The cafeteria basement was cold, and the only sound was the low hum of the vending machines. I stood in the short line, waiting to pay one dollar and fifty cents for a cup of lukewarm black coffee. Nurse Brenda stepped into the space behind me, her blue scrubs rustling as she shifted her weight. She checked her wristwatch twice in the span of thirty seconds. \u201cElena,\u201d she muttered, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.\u201cAre you staying late tonight?\u201d \u201cOnly until eight,\u201d I said, putting two quarters and a dollar bill on the counter. Brenda leaned closer, pretending to examine the basket of red apples by the cash register. \u201cYour partner, the big man with the ring. He was here last night.\u201d \u201cArthur?\u201d I asked, turning to look at her. \u201cVisiting hours ended at eight. I left right after the nurse\u2019s station changed shifts.\u201d \u201cHe was in the corridor at ten,\u201d Brenda whispered, looking over her shoulder toward the double doors. \u201cI saw him coming out of Room 412 after the night shift took over.\u201d Continue Reading \u2192 \u201cDid he speak to Ben?\u201d I asked. \u201cHe told the front desk he was Ben\u2019s brother,\u201d Brenda said, her voice barely audible over the cash register\u2019s beep. \u201cBut I know what Ben\u2019s family looks like, and that man isn\u2019t one of them.\u201d \u201cWhy didn\u2019t anyone stop him?\u201d I asked. \u201cHe had a visitor\u2019s pass from the afternoon,\u201d Brenda said. \u201cHe must have tucked it in his pocket and sneaked back up the service stairs.\u201d \u201cAnd Ben was medicated,\u201d she added, stepping back as the cashier looked up. \u201cYou need to keep an eye on what gets signed.\u201d The room was dark when I returned, save for the green glow of the monitors. I sat on the edge of Ben\u2019s mattress and took his hand, his skin dry against mine. \u201cArthur was here last night, Ben,\u201d I said quietly. \u201cAfter I left.\u201d Ben did not open his eyes, but his fingers tightened slightly around mine. \u201cHe brought some papers,\u201d Ben whispered. \u201cHe wanted me to sign them.\u201d \u201cWhat papers?\u201d I asked, leaning closer to his pillow. \u201cDo not worry about Arthur right now,\u201d Ben said, his voice fading as the evening medication began to take hold. \u201cNo matter what happens, Elena, you must trust Dr. Marcus.\u201d Continue Reading \u2192 I stared at the closed door of the room, wondering what Arthur had held in his hands under the dim hallway lights. Elena slides the silver pocket watch into her purse, feeling its heavy weight against her hip. I walked into the Green Leaf office at eleven the next morning, the smell of damp earth on Arthur\u2019s work boots still lingering in the narrow hallway. Arthur was sitting at the corner desk, his fingers moving rapidly through a stack of yellow invoices. The ledger lay open on the side table, its green columns filled with Ben\u2019s neat, slanted handwriting from the previous month. The heavy brass ring on Arthur\u2019s hand caught the sharp fluorescent light from the ceiling as he shuffled the papers. \u201cArthur,\u201d I said, holding my hand against my purse where Ben\u2019s silver watch rested. \u201cI need the key to Ben\u2019s personal drawer.\u201d He did not look up immediately. He pressed his thumb against the corner of a document, sliding it into a green folder. \u201cThe bank required a lock on that drawer, Elena,\u201d he said, his loud voice filling the small room. \u201cWith Ben being away, they needed to ensure the accounts were fully secured.\u201d Continue Reading \u2192 \u201cBen always kept the spare key in the brass cup by the thermostat,\u201d I said, pointing to the wall. \u201cThey had to change the cylinder yesterday afternoon,\u201d Arthur said, finally looking up. \u201cIt is standard security for a small partnership during a transition. I do not even have a copy of that key myself.\u201d I watched him tap his heavy brass ring against the desk, the sharp click echoing in the quiet office. \u201cWhich bank representative came by?\u201d I asked. \u201cA new fellow from the commercial division,\u201d Arthur said, reaching for a fresh stack of timesheets. \u201cI did not catch the name on his card before he left.\u201d \u201cWe have three payroll checks that need Ben\u2019s signature by Friday,\u201d I said, my finger twisting my plain silver wedding band around and around. \u201cDo not worry about the payroll,\u201d Arthur said, his tone shifting to a warm, easy rhythm. \u201cI can handle those disbursements through our secondary line of credit. Your place is at the hospital, Elena. Let me take care of the paperwork here.\u201d I looked at the locked drawer of Ben\u2019s desk, the new chrome lock shining against the dark oak wood. Continue Reading \u2192 \u201cI would feel better if we kept everything in the original accounts,\u201d I said. \u201cWe have to adapt to what the bank demands,\u201d Arthur said, standing up and sliding his chair back. \u201cThey are very strict about these things when a partner is incapacitated.\u201d He picked up his jacket from the back of the door, his brass ring clicking against the doorknob as he opened it. \u201cI have to check on the crew over at the county park,\u201d he said. \u201cLock up when you leave.\u201d The drive back to Saint Jude Hospital was slow, the heavy sky gray over the bare oak trees along the highway. I found Dr. Charles Marcus standing by Ben\u2019s bed, his hand resting on the metal rail while he watched the monitors. Ben\u2019s breathing was shallow and dry, his lips parted as he struggled for each breath. \u201cThe blood pressure has stabilized since this morning,\u201d Dr. Marcus said, adjusting his wire-rimmed glasses as he looked at me. \u201cWe have adjusted his pain medication to keep him comfortable.\u201d Ben\u2019s eyelids fluttered, his gaze drifting toward the sound of the doctor\u2019s voice. \u201cElena,\u201d Ben whispered, his voice raspy and thin. Continue Reading \u2192 I stepped closer to the bed, taking his hand. His skin was warm but dry. \u201cI am here, Ben,\u201d I said, leaning down. He looked at Dr. Marcus, then back to me, his fingers giving a slight, weak pressure against mine. \u201cThe plan,\u201d Ben whispered, his eyes wide with a sudden, quiet intensity. \u201cIs it\u2026\u201d \u201cThe plan is in motion, Ben,\u201d Dr. Marcus said, his voice slow and comforting. \u201cYou do not need to worry about a thing. We are taking care of it.\u201d \u201cWhat plan?\u201d I asked, looking from my husband\u2019s pale face to the doctor. Dr. Marcus adjusted his glasses again, his expression remaining perfectly calm. \u201cJust some standard arrangements to protect his medical coverage from any administrative delays, Elena. It is best to let us handle the details.\u201d Ben let out a long, slow sigh, his head sinking deeper into the pillow as his eyes closed. \u201cHe needs to rest now,\u201d Dr. Marcus said quietly, motioning for me to step back. \u201cThe medication will make him sleep for several hours.\u201d \u201cIs he in pain?\u201d I asked. \u201cWe are managing it,\u201d Dr. Marcus said. \u201cHe is very strong, Elena.\u201d Continue Reading \u2192 I sat in the vinyl chair by the window, watching the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. The evening visitors had all gone by nine, leaving the fourth-floor corridor silent under the dim night lights. I stepped out of Room 412 to get a cup of water from the fountain near the elevator. Nurse Brenda stepped out of the linen closet, her hand quickly catching my elbow. She pulled me back into the shadow of the small alcove where the spare blankets were stored. She glanced over her shoulder toward the main nursing desk,her wristwatch catching the light as she checked the time. \u201cElena,\u201d she whispered, her voice low and conspiratorial. \u201cYou need to listen to me carefully.\u201d \u201cWhat is it?\u201d I asked, my hand dropping to my purse. \u201cBefore you leave the hospital tonight, you have to look under Ben\u2019s mattress,\u201d she whispered. I stared at her, my throat tightening. \u201cWhy would I do that?\u201d \u201cBen asked me to help him hide something yesterday when Arthur was visiting,\u201d she said, her eyes shifting to the corridor again. \u201cHe did not want any of the other nurses to see him.\u201d Continue Reading \u2192 \u201cWhat did he hide?\u201d I asked. \u201cLook under his mattress before you walk out of here tonight,\u201d Brenda whispered, stepping back into the light of the hallway. \u201cDo it when the shift change starts at eleven. The floor will be quiet then.\u201d She walked quickly toward the nurse\u2019s station, her rubber-soled shoes silent on the floor. I waited in the dark corner of the room until half-past eleven, the only sound being the soft rustle of the privacy curtain in the draft. Ben was deep in his medicated sleep, his face relaxed and his hands resting quiet on the sheet. I stood up from the vinyl chair, my knees stiff from the long hours of sitting. I walked to the far side of the bed, away from the door, my heart beating loud in the quiet room. I reached out, sliding my hand beneath the heavy vinyl mattress near the headboard. The space was tight and cold, my knuckles scraping against the blue steel of the bed frame. I reached further, my arm going in up to my elbow as I felt along the dusty metal slats. Continue Reading \u2192 Elena\u2019s fingers brush against the cold plastic of the blue folder beneath the heavy mattress. I pulled the blue plastic folder from beneath the springs, the corners of the document scraping against my wrist. I did not open it until the morning sun finally hit the gravel lot four floors below. Ben watched me from his pillows, his breathing light but shallow. He watched my hands as I held the folder near the cold glass of the window. \u201cHe brought that in three nights ago,\u201d Ben said, his voice raspy and thin. He reached up, slowly rubbing his left temple with two fingers. \u201cArthur told me it was the signature page for the county park mowing contract,\u201d he whispered. \u201cHe tried to slide it right under my medical consent papers while the night nurse was changing my IV bag.\u201d I looked down at the top page inside the folder. It was a business buyout agreement, transferring all of Ben\u2019s shares of Green Leaf Landscaping to Arthur for a single dollar. \u201cI told him my hand was too stiff to hold the pen,\u201d Ben said. \u201cSo he took the papers back, but he left that copy behind in his hurry.\u201d Continue Reading \u2192 I turned the page over, my fingers dry. \u201cThere is a signature on the bottom line, Ben.\u201d \u201cIt is not mine,\u201d he said. I tucked the photocopy under my wool coat and left the hospital before the doctors began their morning rounds. By one o\u2019clock, the gravel yard at Green Leaf Landscaping was empty of trucks. I walked straight into the front office, my boots leaving wet circles on the low-pile carpet. Arthur sat behind the metal desk, a paper cup of cold coffee at his elbow. He looked up, his face neutral, and began to tap his heavy brass ring against the laminate wood. I walked to the edge of his desk and laid the photocopy of the buyout agreement directly over his yellow legal pad. Arthur did not blink. He glanced down at the paper, then looked up at me with a slow, dry chuckle. \u201cYou have been digging around in places you do not belong,Elena,\u201d he said. \u201cThat is Ben\u2019s signature line,\u201d I said, my voice barely louder than the hum of the desk clock. \u201cHe never wrote that.\u201d Continue Reading \u2192 Arthur stopped tapping his ring. He leaned back in his chair, the spring mechanism groaning under his weight. \u201cA signature is a signature,\u201d he said. He stood up, his boots heavy on the floorboards as he walked into his private inner office. I followed him to the doorway. He reached down to the small grey safe in the corner, spun the dial twice, and pulled out a crisp sheet of paper with a raised gold seal. \u201cThis is the original,\u201d Arthur said, holding it just out of my reach. \u201cIt has a notary stamp from the county.\u201d I looked at the blue ink of the stamp, the circular seal pressed hard into the paper fibers. My eyes traced the name of the notary public, but the letters were small and blurred under the dim office light. \u201cIf you come back in here accusing me of theft,\u201d Arthur said, sliding the document back into his desk drawer, \u201cI will call the county sheriff.\u201d I twisted my plain silver wedding band around my finger, the metal cold against my skin. \u201cBen helped build this yard,\u201d I said. Continue Reading \u2192 Arthur locked the drawer with a small brass key and dropped it into his pocket. \u201cYou have no legal standing here anymore, Elena,\u201d he said. The drive back to Saint Jude Hospital took twenty minutes, the heater in my old Buick blowing only lukewarm air. I walked back into Room 412 and sat on the edge of the mattress, my head bowed. I could not stop the quiet water from spilling down my cheeks, the dampness soaking into the rough cotton of Ben\u2019s hospital blanket. Ben moved his hand slowly across the sheets until his fingers touched my wrist. \u201cWe will find another way to fight,\u201d he whispered.\u201cHe has a notary stamp on it, Ben,\u201d I said, swallowing hard to clear my throat. \u201cThe court will believe the seal.\u201d \u201cDr. Marcus will be here at ten tomorrow,\u201d Ben said, his eyes closing as the afternoon medicine began to take hold. \u201cWe will ask him what to do.\u201d I stayed until his breathing went deep and steady, then I gathered my purse from the vinyl chair. I walked out of the office into the biting cold, holding a useless piece of paper. Continue Reading \u2192 By ten the next morning, Dr. Marcus was standing by the window of Room 412, holding the photocopy of Arthur\u2019s buyout agreement. The gray winter light from the window made his wire-rimmed glasses catch the glare, and he adjusted them twice as he read the small print. The only sound in the room was the soft, rhythmic hiss of the oxygen machine beside Ben\u2019s bed. \u201cI cannot prove this signature is a forgery on my own, Elena,\u201d Dr. Marcus said, his slow, deliberate cadence filling the quiet space. \u201cBut my sister-in-law can.\u201d Ben watched us from the bed, his head resting back against the pillows as he rubbed his left temple to ease the dull ache that had settled there since breakfast. His face was drawn, the pale morning light emphasizing the sharp hollows under his cheekbones. \u201cShe is an estate and probate attorney,\u201d Dr. Marcus continued, pulling a crisp cream business card from his pocket. \u201cHer name is Sarah Vance.\u201d I took the card, my finger brushing against the sharp corners of the heavy paper, noticing how clean and professional the black ink looked. Continue Reading \u2192 \u201cWill she be able to stop Arthur?\u201d I asked, my voice barely above a whisper as I cleared my throat. Dr. Marcus looked toward the hallway, where a nurse was pushing a cart of medical supplies past the open door, then back at Ben. \u201cWe have to move quickly before the court recognizes his claim,\u201d Dr. Marcus said. \u201cSarah is the only one who can navigate this.\u201d \u201cI will call her right now,\u201d I said. \u201cI already called her from my office this morning,\u201d Dr. Marcus said, adjusting his glasses once more. \u201cShe is expecting you at two o\u2019clock.\u201d Ben reached for my hand, his grip weak but steady, his plain silver wedding band cold against my knuckles. \u201cGo, Elena,\u201d he whispered, his warm voice catching on the dry air. \u201cLet her help us.\u201d I tucked the business card into my purse, sliding it deep into the leather pocket next to Ben\u2019s silver pocket watch. I drove to the Oak Creek Strip Mall with the heater in my Buick clattering against the dashboard, the cold air seeping through the floorboards. Continue Reading \u2192 Sarah Vance\u2019s law office sat between a dry cleaner and a card shop, the front window displaying her name in simple gold lettering that had begun to peel at the corners. The waiting room was small, with two orange vinyl chairs and a low table covered in old gardening magazines.When I walked in, she was sitting behind a large mahogany desk, her wire-rimmed glasses pushed up on her head as she worked. She did not look up immediately, her hands busy aligning three color-coded files in perfect parallel lines on her green leather blotter. \u201cDr. Marcus told me you were coming, Mrs. Miller,\u201d she said, her voice crisp and formal, carrying a legal precision that made me sit up straighter. I sat down in the low leather chair opposite her, keeping my coat buttoned against the draft from the front door. \u201cArthur says the business belongs to him now,\u201d I said, handing her the photocopy of the buyout agreement. \u201cHe has a notary stamp on the document.\u201d Sarah picked up the paper, her eyes scanning the text with rapid, practiced precision, her fingers never touching the desk surface except to move a red folder. Continue Reading \u2192 \u201cA notary stamp makes a document legally binding on its face,\u201d she said, setting it down and aligning it with her folders. \u201cBut every stamp has a registry number.\u201d \u201cCan we challenge it?\u201d I asked, my hand going to my silver ring, twisting it slowly around my finger. \u201cWe can,\u201d she said, leaning back in her chair and crossing her hands over her lap. \u201cBut the probate court moves fast once a claim is filed.\u201d She organized her pens in a neat row beside her yellow legal pad, making sure they were exactly parallel. \u201cI will need to run a full search on this fees upfront, and my time must be secured.\u201d I looked at the silver ring on my finger, twisting it slowly. \u201cIf I bring the cash by five o\u2019clock, can you file tomorrow morning?\u201d I asked. \u201cI will have the motion ready to go the moment the funds are cleared,\u201d she said. I stood up, holding my purse tightly against my side. \u201cI will be back before you close,\u201d I said. The house was cold when I let myself in, the silence of the empty kitchen greeting me like a physical weight. I did not turn on any lights, letting the gray afternoon seep through the windows. I walked down the narrow hallway to our bedroom, where the light from the sky made the pale blue walls look almost white. I opened the top drawer of …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
have that kind of money in our checking account,\u201d I said. \u201cArthur has frozen our access to the business…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":2466,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2465","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/tastykitchen.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2465","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/tastykitchen.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/tastykitchen.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/tastykitchen.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/tastykitchen.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=2465"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/tastykitchen.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2465\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2467,"href":"https:\/\/tastykitchen.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2465\/revisions\/2467"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/tastykitchen.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/2466"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/tastykitchen.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=2465"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/tastykitchen.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=2465"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/tastykitchen.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=2465"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}