Exchange in an Uber

Dear Diary:

I was planning a party for my friend Rose. I went to a Dollar Tree store in the neighborhood to get poster board, soda and candy. I left with five or six heavy bags. Checking the time, I decided to take an Uber. I had to hurry.

The car that pulled up to the store was a black S.U.V. I got in, taking note that the beige leather seats were lightly worn from use.

“Ruthie?” the driver said, looking at his phone as I closed the door.

“That’s me.”

He nodded. He was probably in his 60s, and he wore an old-fashioned tweed suit and a bowler with a feather. He didn’t look like any other Uber driver I had ever seen.

He started to drive, and I arranged my bags on the car seats.

“My wife’s name was Ruth,” he said in a low, distant tone.