Echoes

Chapter Seven

The morning had draped the landscape in a glistening veil of dew, confirming Emily's earlier anticipation of cooler temperatures. She slipped into her cherished beige and white plaid fur jacket, its front zipper sealing in warmth. With her wavy brunette locks cascading freely around her shoulders, she had foregone makeup, embracing the raw simplicity of the moment.

The sudden temperature drop halted her plans of walking. With a tap of her keyfob's auto-start button, Emily brought her 2019 Toyota Corolla to life, allowing the engine to purr to life and banish the morning chill. Beyond the car's windshield, a soft shroud of fog draped over the water, concealing the remnants of long-extinguished campfires on the distant shore.

Emily's plans led her to the nearby marina, a place she'd heard fellow hikers speak of with enthusiasm. Their whispered conversations had piqued her curiosity, particularly regarding the delectable breakfast sandwiches served at the restaurant tucked away at the back of the establishment.

Among the patrons, the cafe hosted a select few; early risers in the know and serendipitous hikers who had stumbled upon this hidden gem. Their shared secret was a quaint establishment adorned with charm. A waitress graced the scene, her demeanor marked by kindness and a welcoming spirit. Her countenance radiated with a dazzling smile that mirrored the brilliance of her beach-waved auburn hair. Freckles adorned her fair face like constellations against the night sky, and Emily could discern that she was youthful, seemingly no older than eighteen.

"Hello there!" the waitress greeted with a bright smile, her enthusiasm lighting up the room. "I'm Cordy, and I'll be taking care of you today. Can I start you off with a cup of coffee?" Emily's lips curved into a nostalgic smile, casting her thoughts back to her early days as a hostess in a bustling restaurant chain. "Coffee sounds wonderful," Emily replied, her smile radiating warmth as she addressed Cordy.

Cordy acknowledged her order with a gracious nod before gracefully gliding away. She paused at a table where an elderly couple sat, their familiarity with the waitress evident. They engaged in a friendly conversation, the couple requesting extra jams to accompany their biscuits.

Emily reveled in the cozy charm of this quaint spot, her mind drifting to dreams of a childhood nurtured in a similarly close-knit community. She envisioned a wise elderly neighbor, ever ready with sage advice and a cup of comforting tea. Children frolicked freely in her daydreams, their laughter echoing through a picturesque cul-de-sac.

Yet, a pang of melancholy disrupted her tranquility as she contemplated how dearly she and Charlie would have cherished this place. Their aspirations for building a family had been in motion, complete with visions of two children—a boy and a girl—separated by a gap of at least three years, a future brimming with shared love and laughter.

As the thought of making this charming town her permanent home took root, Emily retrieved her phone from her purse and delved into the realm of job advertisements, her focus honed on opportunities within the field of journalism. With a wealth of four years' experience in the industry, each moment had been a passionate journey she cherished. It was evident to her that she could become a valuable asset to the local paper, infusing its pages with a fresh, engaging perspective for readers to relish.

In her daydreams, she envisaged a shift in her journalistic focus, transitioning from the rigors of investigative reporting to the vibrant world of entertainment journalism. The prospect of chronicling the town's lively events, celebrating the achievements of its diverse inhabitants, and forging genuine connections within the community ignited a fervor within her, a stark contrast to the detachment of her previous role in Kansas City.

Emily's eyes were drawn to a small, unassuming stand nestled in the corner. The sign above it read "Stockton Global." A surge of excitement welled up inside her as she reached for a newspaper, flipping quickly to the job listings section. She scanned each entry with growing anticipation, her hope rising with every line. And there it was, at the very bottom—an opening for a new editor at Stockton Global itself.

"Here's your coffee, ma'am," Cordy said, placing a steaming cup gently on the table.

Emily hesitated for a moment, then asked, slightly embarrassed, "Is it possible for me to buy this?"

Cordy smiled warmly, her voice laced with a sweet southern accent that Emily couldn't help but notice. "Of course! Normally, it's a dollar twenty-five, but don't worry, I'll spot you this time."

As Emily thanked her, she reminded herself that she was in Southern Missouri, where the southern culture felt more pronounced than it ever had in Kansas City.

Emily quickly pulled out her phone, fingers flying over the screen as she searched for Stockton Global's website. She hoped to find an online application for the editor position, but her heart sank when she came up empty-handed.

Undeterred, she began looking for a nearby library where she could print her résumé. As she sat in the restaurant, she drafted a cover letter on her phone, her thoughts racing to get the words just right. With a final glance at her work, she gathered her things and headed out, determined to seize the opportunity.