Maya Noguchi was captivated by the red and orange light reflected off the riverfront buildings of Tarrytown, New York as the sun set behind them along the western cliffs of the Hudson River. Scott was driving the Bimmer on the bridge that spanned it while threading his necktie through collar buttons on his shirt. He could safely drive with one hand since they were effectively stopped on the bridge, along with hundreds of other vehicles.
They regrettably were resigning themselves to the fact that the holiday traffic was not going to cooperate with the urgency of attaining their objective.
"Maya, look to your right," Scott said, tying his tie, "and look downriver. You can see the city from here." She focused on the towers and skyscrapers of Manhattan in the far distance. "That's where you're going to be working starting tomorrow."
She was in awe. "I am now getting way too excited about all this. Thank you, Scott."
"For what?"
"For making sure I got here. And for all the driving. And for. . ."
"My pleasure. Thank you for. . ." Scott paused. As he continued to pause, Maya knew that he couldn't express adequately what he was feeling, having an inability to put into words about what had happened in his life recently and sensing his uncertainty about what might happen when he got home.
"It was my pleasure," she said. One other thing she knew: she had become very fond of him and hoped that they would remain close friends long after this trip was over.
"I'm glad to be going home," Scott said, "I don't know what's going to happen, but I'm glad just the same. At least now I'll know."
Maya didn't need to say anything. Their gaze at each other said it all. Their time together the past four days had let them begin to understand one another.
The bridge traffic stumbled and halted eastward until the Bimmer finally finished crossing the Hudson River and went straight ahead on I-287.
"I think you might still make it in time," she said, indicating the digital clock on the dashboard. It said: 3:40.
Scott looked at it too. He became hopeful when he saw the time. "Yup. Just might."
What neither of them saw on the dashboard was the gas gauge. A lighted icon of a gas pump had just displayed itself while a gauge needle registered E for empty.
YOU ARE READING
WE GATHER TOGETHER by Edward L. Woodyard
General FictionSometimes you have to go far away to realize just how close you really are. A straightforward, honest and emotional journey of the heart, We Gather Together is a perceptive and joyous story about a small-town suburban family that wants to come toge...
