Page 77 of Dear Mr. Brody
Parker: Good morning.
I laughed at the sleeping emoji he sent.
Me: Did I wake you?
Parker: No, just getting out of the shower.
An image of him standing fully nude in my own shower assaulted me.
Me: Thank you for that visual.
Parker: Anytime… Question?
Parker: Did you really spend $400 on a pair of sweats?
I laughed again and my shoulders shook.
Me: No, they were a gift from my sister. She can be… excessive.
Parker: No shit.
“Dad,” Anne whined, and I glanced at the clock.
“Aw, hell.”
I had to leave in fifteen minutes if I wanted to get Anne to school and arrive to work on time. I gulped down my coffee, singeing the tip of my tongue. Slipping my phone into my pocket, I washed out my coffee mug and finished knotting the tie around my neck. I grabbed my keys and laptop bag before heading for the door.
“Let’s go, little monster.”
The morning air was cool, the heavy cloud bank overhead threatening more rain. I looked forward to fall every year, not that it got very brisk in Atlanta, but the change from the overbearing summer heat was nice. The rain I could do without. I unlocked the car as Anne complained about the weather.
“We have time, go grab a jacket,” I offered as I opened the back door for her.
“It’s not that cold,” she grumbled, brushing past me, and slid into the back seat.
The radio host warned of a traffic jam on I-85 as the engine came to life.
“You’re gonna be late.” She flashed her gray eyes at me in the rearview mirror.
“Nah,” I said, backing out of my driveway. “It’ll be fine.”
I wasn’t fine. There’d been an accident a few blocks from Anne’s school, and everything was gridlocked.
“Should have left earlier,” she said.
“I know.”
“Shouldn’t have slept in so late.”
“Anne,” I warned. “I’m sorry, alright.”
I’d hit snooze on my alarm clock one too many times this morning. In my sleep-hazed head, I had time. Which I would have had if I hadn’t needed to take Anne to school. But it wasn’t her fault I’d stayed up late. Nope. That was on me. Would I change a thing about last night? Absolutely not.
“It’s okay,” she said as the car in front of me inched ahead. “Mom is always late.”
“She’s not always—”
“Dad.”