Her daughter was going to hate her. She could see it now; the little pout on her face, those big blue eyes glaring up at her through long, dark lashes. But what was she to do? How could she explain to her four year old the concept of traffic?
Rush hour had been killer. There had been some sort of gruesome accident. The highway had been backed up for miles on end.
Nevertheless, Lillian Sulser was finally here, and about a good 30-40 minutes late at this point. She'd sped as fast as she could through town and into the empty parking lot; which had been even more of a sour reminder of how late she'd been. The woman let out a long, deep sigh as she sat in her car for a moment, prepping herself for her pouty daughter and the pushy receptionist she had been dealing with.
She slid out of her car, walking dejectedly into the daycare. It was empty inside for the most part, save for the staff and her lone child, Ashley. It was embarrassing. But nothing really could be done about it. Rush hour was always killer on Fridays, and she didn't know anyone well enough to feel comfortable watching her. Lillian strode up to the receptionist desk, her eyes meeting with the chunky, passive-aggressive woman sitting behind it. She drawled on, scolding her for her lateness. A few nods and tired apologies later, Lillian's eyes averted and focused on the person who had planted themselves next to her daughter.
Rush hour had been killer. There had been some sort of gruesome accident. The highway had been backed up for miles on end.
Nevertheless, Lillian Sulser was finally here, and about a good 30-40 minutes late at this point. She'd sped as fast as she could through town and into the empty parking lot; which had been even more of a sour reminder of how late she'd been. The woman let out a long, deep sigh as she sat in her car for a moment, prepping herself for her pouty daughter and the pushy receptionist she had been dealing with.
She slid out of her car, walking dejectedly into the daycare. It was empty inside for the most part, save for the staff and her lone child, Ashley. It was embarrassing. But nothing really could be done about it. Rush hour was always killer on Fridays, and she didn't know anyone well enough to feel comfortable watching her. Lillian strode up to the receptionist desk, her eyes meeting with the chunky, passive-aggressive woman sitting behind it. She drawled on, scolding her for her lateness. A few nods and tired apologies later, Lillian's eyes averted and focused on the person who had planted themselves next to her daughter.
