I stare at the sky. The setting sun creates a pretty scene Pastels run into the hard clouds. Orange flows into red that blurs into pink. Even the green trees rise to join the scene. But, I gaze at the sky because I can do nothing else. 

Otherwise, brake lights provide my only scenery. I sit in my work van at a standstill. I’ve sat in the same spot for ten or fifteen minutes. The car in front of me goes into park. A certain sign of surrender. I’m not there yet. Not that I can blame the other driver though. They’ve been here longer than me. 

I knew traffic would be slow on a Friday night. It always is. This two-lane road is the only one into town. Friday night brings a crowd, but there’s usually some movement, at least.

That last job took much longer than it should have. I wanted to get it done fast, but that kept me looking at my watch. If I could have focused on the job, I probably wouldn’t be late to dinner. Instead, here I sit. 

An old woman in her Buick land-barge would be preferable to this. The cars zipping past in the other lane only add to my frustration. My whole evening will be wasted at this rate. My eyes roll back to the sunset. Thank God for that distraction. 

Praise God! The car in front of me shifts back to drive. A cautious roll forward begins. I dare not touch the gas pedal. 

My work van’s Bluetooth announces a call from my wife. “Hey,” I say. “How’s it going, Louise?” 

“I’m at the restaurant. What are you doing, Keaton?” 

The license plate in front of me absorbs my attention. I turn my head toward the yellow brick mailbox, which I’ve sat beside the whole time. I say, “Oh, you know. Staring at the sunset.”

“Great,” Louise says. “I’m at the restaurant. You’re not going to believe this.” 

“I am unlikely to make our reservation anyway,” I say. “Traffic is barely moving over here, and it only started doing that. I have no idea what the holdup is.” 

Louise huffs into the phone. She says, “That makes two of us. I have no idea what’s going on either. There’s no one here at the restaurant. The parking lot is totally empty. And, I don’t think the lights are on.” 

“What? I haven’t heard anything from them about canceling.” I finally roll past the next house on the street. That is some progress – I suppose. Though, my progress here is meaningless right now.

Louise says, “Yeah, I didn’t either. I’ll go take a look.” The wind creates static in the phone. Louise reports, “There’s a sign on the door about not having enough employees because of COVID. So, they are closed until further notice. Not that they will give it.” 

I say a quick prayer for the health of those employees. Could be they just can’t hire enough people. And, here I was thinking that I would be the problem. I guess I should be glad for the excuse. Keeps the problem from being me.

No, my problem is a telephone bucket truck. That behemoth held traffic this long? Then, it just pulls out into traffic. I have no idea how it avoided the three cars on the road. The gas board would fire me on the spot for that kind of trick. Turns out this whole mess was completely preventable. All that truck had to do was pull into the side street.

I say, “Well, Louise, I have finally touched the gas pedal again. Now, I can get somewhere.” 

“Who cares, Keaton? We can’t get in anywhere else on a Friday night. You know that. That’s why we made reservations in the first place. The only place to go now is back home. I’ll meet you there.” 

My line of traffic gains speed toward the interstate on-ramp. “No, come on now.” I say, “I would only be a couple minutes late; now, that traffic is moving. There has to be another plan. We might have to dig a little deeper for sure.” 

“There might have been one before, but we will only get in line with everyone else at this point. I can’t imagine any other choice.” 

That sushi restaurant comes to mind, but Louse reminds me about its closeness to the high school. She mentions the meat and three. It only opened last week. I’m confident of no place near there. We throw out a couple more options with similar results. 

I miss the on-ramp, so I’m headed into town. There has to be another place. Louise and I haven’t been out since the kid’s birth. We need this night. But, she’s right. Any popular place will be packed. My mind outruns the car down Main Street. Every place, that comes to mind, has a big sign with lots of cars. That is except for one. 

I say, “Wait. What about Home Field?” 

A long pause answers me. I begin to wonder if we got disconnected. Then, Louise says, “Our first night out, and all we can manage is that place? Six dozen restaurants in this town now. Our city’s exploded, but it’s Home Field for us?” 

I narrow my eyes at my Bluetooth display. I say, “We can get a pretty good, hot meal, a drink, and – here’s the kicker – we’ll be together. It’s a matter of taking what we can get.” 

“Since you put it that way, I’m on my way!” 

Blessedly, there’s not a cop in sight. I squeal my tires onto H-36. The road becomes a blur. I nearly curse the stop light, but Louise is the last car from the other direction. I get into the parking lot right beside her. 

She wraps her arm around mine as we walk past the four other cars in the lot. I hold the door open with a wink and say, “Here, we go.”