AN: So I'm doing some prompts from single parent prompt list cause I thought it was cool. This is a response to the prompt:
The character can't come pick up the child from school or a club and needs to solve that situation.
I interpreted this a touch different and just gave you the solution. The narrative follows Jerza's unnamed son (I really couldn't think of a name for the tyke, maybe I'll add that in in the future?), though it's not in first person.
She was late.
Again.
It wasn't a surprise, he was used to being one of the last ones to be picked up from school. That's just how it was, it was part of their new routine. Every morning she'd pull up to the front of the school, indulge him with the fantasy of a timely pick-up, and refuse to unlock his door until she got her goodbye kiss.
He wondered if she ever got tired of the charade.
He had accepted a long time ago that he was number two on her to-do list. Work had skyrocketed to the top once the ink on the divorce papers dried. She needed to work a lot so she could afford his school and so he could "keep his friends", at least that's what she said. That little spiel had also become part of their routine. Maybe it made her feel better about her consistent absences from his soccer games and school concerts.
Not like she cares. She misses out on a lot.
"Can I go to your house, dad?"
"It's your mother's week." Jellal stated practically, a hint of an apology clear in his tone. He gave his son a thoughtful glance before turning back to the road.
That was a no.
The younger man leaned his head against the window, watching the rain splatter against the glass. The quiet hum of the heat, and the rasping of the windshield wipers made the silence bearable.
Several minutes passed like that.
"You know," Jellal began.
Here we go. Every time.
"Erz—your mother loves you…A lot."
"She has a funny way of showing it," he muttered.
"Mind your mother," Jellal gave his son a warning look as he pulled into the driveway.
He chewed on his bottom lip, trying to sort through his jumbled emotions. If his dad cared so much about his mom, why did they get a divorce? He felt the familiar sensation of tears stinging at the corners of his eyes, and immediately willed them away before looking over at his dad.
"Don't give your grandma too much trouble, and do your homework." Jellal smiled ruffling the mop of dark blue hair atop his son's head. "All of your homework."
"I will," he feigned a smiled. "Goodnight, dad."
Jellal turned to give his son a hug but stopped short and stared out the window at the mailbox, his lips pressing into a solid line.
The mailbox no longer said 'Fernandes'.
"Scarlet's a better fit anyway," Jellal laughed under his breath, cutting the silence.
Tears rolled down his son's cheeks unrestrained. He hated this divorce, he hated his mom, and now he hated that stupid mailbox.
AN: Leave a review if you can! Thanks for reading :)
