“This is impossible,” Stella announced, forehead resting on the steering wheel. “How do people do this every day?”
“Practice. And occasionally prayer.”
“I’ve been praying. God’s not answering.”
“Try the parking gods. They’re more specialized.”
She laughed despite herself, sitting back up. “One more try.”
“That’s my—“ He caught himself before saying ‘girl.’ “That’s the spirit.”
Something shifted in attempt number five. Maybe it was the lower stakes of already having failed spectacularly, or maybe the parking gods finally took pity, but Stella’s movements were smoother, more confident. Turn the wheel, check the mirror, ease back, straighten out...
“Oh my god,” she said. “Am I... am I actually between the lines?”
Tyler leaned over to check. “You are. Perfectly centered, even.”
“I did it?”
“You did it.”
“I parallel parked!”
“You parallel parked.”
She turned to him, eyes bright with accomplishment. “We did it.”
“You did it,” Tyler said. “I just sat here trying not to have a heart attack.”
“We did it,” she insisted. “Just the two of us. No Meg to talk me through it.”
“Just the two of us,” he agreed, and something in the air shifted.
They sat there for a moment, engine idling, both processing what that meant.
“Want to try again?” Tyler asked. “Make sure it wasn’t a fluke?”
“Yes. No. Maybe?” She gripped the wheel. “Yes.”
Three more successful attempts later—with only minor cone casualties—they headed home. Stella was practically vibrating with accomplishment, replaying every successful maneuver.
“Did you see that last one? I didn’t even have to readjust!”
“I saw. Very smooth.”
They pulled into the driveway, and the house loomed before them—still Tyler’s familiar bungalow, but different now. Emptier.
Inside, the kitchen felt especially quiet. Tyler opened the fridge, checking dinner supplies while Stella lingered by the table.
“Weird how empty it feels,” she said quietly.
“Yeah.” Tyler closed the fridge, looking around. “Guess it’s just the two of us now.”
“Just the two of us,” Stella echoed, running her hand along the clean counter where Meg’s laptop used to live.
They stood there for a moment, the reality of their new configuration settling over them like dust. The house that had felt too small somehow felt too big.
Tyler started pulling out ingredients for dinner, trying to remember Meg’s system. “She took the good pan.”
