Too sleepy to write an end.
It was Caroline’s first time going to the grocery store with Dad, and she didn’t like it at all. Caroline’s mom was spending a lot of time in her pajamas lately. Most days, Caroline didn’t let it bother her; she was distracted by how happy she was that Mom finally started binge-watching Scandal with her. Ben, Caroline’s brother, was coming home from college on a lot more weekends than he did last year. But he wasn’t home this weekend, the weekend that Mom suggested Caroline help Dad with the shopping. Caroline was resistant, but she knew the look in her Mom’s eyes that said, “would you please just do this and not complain about it.” And so she went.
Caroline started getting bitter in the car ride over. They took his car instead of Mom’s. Mom always let her control the radio, but Dad only switched between two stations; classic rock and talk radio. Caroline hated both. One time Caroline hit the button for Kiss FM, but Dad could only get through 27 seconds of Arianna Grande before turning the sound off completely. “That’s enough,” he said. It’s what he always said when he was annoyed. This time, they sat in silence while listening to a public radio story about a Presidential election in Laos. Also, Dad really only used his car to go to work, and not for carpools to basketball games and rides to friend’s houses and surprise trips for milkshakes, like Mom’s. Caroline didn’t think a new car smell should last for two years like his did.
Dad parked in a different part of the lot than where Mom always parked. Mom had a system. Dad clearly didn’t know where he was doing, but Caroline didn’t say anything. She rolled her eyes, thinking that Dad didn’t see her. He did. When they got in the store, he consistently walked a few steps ahead of her, while she trailed behind, leaning on the cart and refreshing her phone. He walked with more of a purpose than Mom, but it didn’t save them any time because he walked past the coffee creamer by more than a few aisles three separate times before realizing where it was.
In the check out line, Caroline flipped through the latest issue of Us Weekly as Dad put everything on the conveyor belt.
“Ah shit,” he said. Caroline slowly looked up towards him.
“I forgot the ginger ale. Can you grab some?” Caroline sighed, loudly, as she started to put the magazine back on the rack.
“And can you not be such a fucking bitch about it?”