“Let’s get out of here,” said Maggie. Together, they ran back to the car and drove away before traffic came to a complete standstill, the road clogged with firewatchers streaming out from the city for a glimpse of the fire. The Saints played on the radio, a song about being stranded far from home.
Maggie sat close, her small hand rested lightly on his thigh. He kept his eyes on the road, not daring to acknowledge her touch, afraid of interrupting the intimate moment. It took awhile to reach her parent’s house and, by the time they pulled into their drive, the confusion of the weekend dissipated.