No Day Like Tomorrow

Navy blue blazer, navy blue dress pants, light blue pinstripe button-down, and navy blue tie with waves.
This was what he wore on most Wednesdays, his halfway through the week wardrobe. His wife ironed all of his shirts on Sunday afternoons and hung them neatly in his closet, and he rotated through the week.
Wednesdays were always his blue days.

This Wednesday was like most others. He got up around 6:30am and showered, shaved and his wife got up a little after to put the coffee on and wake up thier son.
She served him a plate of toast and eggs with ham, and he ate without saying a word as he scrutinized Forbes magazine. Wiping his mouth on a napkin he put his plate in the sink and went to the bathroom to brush his teeth as his wife prepared a bowl of cereal.
By 7:20 he was walking into the garage, catching a glimpse of his son coming down the stairs and waving his arms,
"Daddy! Are you going now? Bye Daddy!"
"Yep, I don't want to be late! Bye bye!"
"Daddy, when can we go to the park? You promised!"
"Tomorrow, ok? We can go tomorrow, Daddy is busy today. Bye!"
And he closed the door behind him, sliding into his gray sedan and rolling out of the garage, hurrying toward the highway and merging with traffic.

Around 1pm he left the office to get lunch, walking out of his building and down the street to the corner shop. As he was taking his second bite of a roast beef sandwhich his cell phone vibrated in his pocket, a call from an unfamiliar number.
"Hello?"
"Honey, it's me." His wife's voice was quiet and unsteady, and he felt alarm rising in him.
"What is it? Is everything ok?"
"Oh honey. He's gone."
"What?? Who is gone? Who are you talking about, where are you??"
"I'm at the hospital. It's Sammy, honey. Sammy is gone."
"What?" His Sammy, his son. He just saw him a few hours ago, he was just there, waving and talking.
"We were on the way home from kinder. The other driver ran a red light. He hit the side of the car-" Her voice broke and she cried, and he felt his own throat get tight. "He hit Sammy's side and..." She couldn't finish.

As he began to cry, he realized in a wave of grief and regret that there would never be a tomorrow to go to the park. There had only been today.