The Night Light

Fauna's life had been centered around something ironic, and it followed her wherever she went.

"If you ever get lost and you need to come home, you just come, I'll leave the light on and the key's always gonna be right under the mat."

Her Gran's voice flickered through her head with a cautious reminder as she sat in front of the bar where Earl was flirting with the waitress right in front of her.

He didn't know she was there, and she had confirmed that with a text message just fifteen minutes before. He was going to be late for work again, and she didn't need to wait up. That was how it started, and it ended with him doing it more and more often. He had a good excuse, he was the bartender and he had to clean up, but then Hanna Barclay got hired, and since Fauna hadn't seen much of Earl ever, leading her to the point she was now.

She lifted her hand to wipe away a stray tear with her index finger, glancing down at the sideview mirror and reading the infamous line:

OBJECTS IN MIRROR ARE CLOSER THAN THEY APPEAR.

"I hope that's true," she murmured lowly, easing the car ignition over and determining that there was only one thing she could do.

She wasn't going to be traded in with no integrity while her partner of fifteen years ran his mouth all over the twenty-something waitress. But she also didn't see what the point of fighting would be.

Fauna realized, to fight meant she had to care, and Earl didn't seem to - so, she thought, 'Why should I?'

As this epiphany washed over her, the idea that Earl hadn't held any desire to tell her about his shenanigans with Hanna meant he must not have wanted to be serious with her, but that was most likely because he didn't want to give up the home life he'd become accustomed to.

"This asshole," she shook her head, as her mind shifted through all she had given up over the near two decades wasted she'd given to this jackass.

"I guess the only good thing was you shooting blanks," she mumbled, throwing the car into reverse as she made up her mind. That one tear she'd wiped away, it would be the only one she allowed herself over this sorry piece of trash.

It didn't take long to find the way to Gran's gravel road, and in the distance, she could see the porch light was burning lowly just as it always had. She was much older now, and it had been a few years since Fauna had last seen her, but something told her to quietly drive up and keep the headlights on as she approached. Years ago, there'd have been a dogging barking by now - Domi's passing having been a subtle reminder of how distant her childhood had become, and the efforts she made to build her own family.

"I guess I'm a loser now," she mumbled, exhaling lowly as she finally stopped the car just before the front steps. It was an old yellow farmhouse and two stories, but no one else had lived in the upstairs portion since she had been a kid, and now with Gran living alone, she suspected the headlights would've gotten her up by now, being that they shone right into her room. She eased the door open and walked up the stairs quickly, bending down to lift the mat just as the door creaked open.

"Faunie? Is that you?" Gran whispered, peering out the screen door as Fauna stood back up.

"Hi, Gran; I see you still got the Night Light." A smile graced her face then, and all the turmoil she'd felt up to then seemed to fade as her Gran returned the same with a heartfelt nod,

"Yes, I'll always leave the light on for you, Faunie. Always."