Morgan put his hand up to open the door just as his phone rang. “Please don’t be Greta,” he muttered as he fumbled his phone out of his pocket while pushing the door open.
He sighed at the call display. His wife, Haile. He hadn’t planned on working this late. Again. He promised he’d be home for supper this time. He’d make it this time as well, if she didn’t demand a last-minute errand.
“I’m on my way,” he said.
He cringed. “I’m not late. If I drive the speed limit I’ll make it in time for supper.”
“Parker’s play is tonight.”
“Tonight? No, I put a reminder on my phone. It would have reminded me earlier.”
As if on cue, his phone made the reminder sound. Seriously? Mother of frickin’ for the love of all that is good and holy. Couldn’t forget the holy.
He stopped just outside the building. Not quite under the archways. He sighed. “What time does it start?”
He tapped his toe and weighed his options. “I’ll speed a little. Swing by pick you up. We’ll eat after.”
“We’ll be late.”
“Mt brother is the lead character. We’ll miss the first bit of the play.”
Morgan started off at a run for his car. “I’m on my way.” His feet thumped as he ran down the brick path, past the arches toward the parking lot and freedom.