Elouise
“Have a goodnight!”one of the fifth-grade teachers calls to me, and I return his wave before turning the other way out the front door.
My footsteps take me to where I thought Beckett said he left my car, but I don’t see it. He texted me right after dropping off my keys earlier telling me he parked it in the front corner. But I’m in the front corner and I still don’t see it.
I slowly turn in a circle, but my car doesn’t magically appear, so I take my keys out and hold the fob up while clicking the lock button.
Nothing.
Turning slightly, I click it again and hear my horn honk from the opposite corner of the lot.
Sighing, I start to cut between the aisles, and I try to keep my grumbling about men to a minimum. I guess if you were looking at the school from the street you might consider it the front corner, but most reasonable people would call it the back corner. And it’s not that I’m lazy – which, to be fair, I am – I just don’t like this part of the parking lot because it’s always so dark. Especially on these late nights when I’m leaving after the sun goes down.
Approaching my car, I smile seeing that Beckett backed it in. It’s a nice touch.
Clicking the fob to unlock my car, I pull open the driver’s door.
I’m about to toss my purse across to the passenger seat when I remember I’d turned my phone off earlier – so I wouldn’t be tempted to scroll Instagram or text Beckett between parents. Taking a second, I pull my phone out of my purse and press the button to turn it back on then drop it back into my bag.
Sliding into my car, I put my purse on the passenger seat and it takes me a few seconds to realize that the dome light didn’t come on when I opened the door. Beckett must’ve changed some setting while he was driving my car this week. I don’t have the energy to try and figure it out now. I’ll make him deal with it when he gets home tonight.
Home.
I smile as I start my car. Nothing sounds nicer than being at home with Beckett.