Ricochet - Candice M. Wright Page 0,18

finally, as the sun bathes the sky in a warm orange glow, the bus pulls into the city station. Sensing we’ve arrived, people begin to wake, bleary-eyed as their internal alarm clocks go off. I stay seated and take in the colossal station as people rise from their seats and stretch out the kinks in their backs or necks before grabbing their bags and standing in the aisle, waiting for the doors to open.

I wait, not in any particular hurry, until everyone else disembarks before making my way off the bus and into the station that is a riot of noise and motion, even at this early hour.

I hold on tightly to my bag, bypassing the swell of people ebbing and flowing around me like an ocean of chaos, and slip outside through the emergency exit.

Taking a deep breath, I’m assaulted by the smell of diesel fumes and garbage, but just beyond that, I smell the subtle, yet enticing, hint of coffee.

Figuring coffee is as good a place to start as any, I follow my nose like a bloodhound until the bus fumes dissipate. The coffee aroma is accompanied by the tantalizing scent of pancakes and syrup.

The coffee shop I end up at is quiet, thankfully, so I don’t have to wait long before a perky blonde waitress with a big smile and even bigger hair wanders over to the table I’m sitting at watching the city wake up around me.

“Hey, sugar, what can I get you?” She has a Texan accent, telling me she’s even farther from home than I am.

“Pancakes and coffee, please.”

She scribbles my order onto her pad, ripping off one end and placing it on the table. “Won’t be long.” She turns at the sound of the door opening, smiling at me before she heads over to an older couple walking through. They look to be in their late seventies, early eighties. They sit in a booth on the other side of the room on opposite sides of the table, but what makes it difficult to pull my eyes away from them is the moment they sit down, they reach across the table and link fingers.

Watching them feels intrusive somehow, but I can’t seem to look away either. A love that spans a lifetime, weathers every storm, and still holds strong when it’s withered with age is proof that magic does exist in the world. At least for some.

I don’t know how long I zone out watching the couple laugh and smile at each other, but it’s long enough for the waitress to return with my coffee and a stack of pancakes that make my mouth instantly water.

“There you go, enjoy. If you need anything else, just give us a holler. My name’s Carol, by the way.”

I offer her a small grin, but I can’t tear my eyes away from the food. I wait until she walks away before diving in. I groan when the taste explodes on my tongue, and I have to forcefully remind myself to take my time. I don’t need to shovel it in so nobody comes along and takes it from me. Heck, I don’t even have to share it with anyone. For the first time in forever, I can simply sit and eat. So that’s what I do, whiling away the morning until the urge to find accommodation forces me to move.

“Hey, Carol?” I call when she walks past my table. The small coffee shop has filled up now, but Carol is still the only waitress working, so I don’t want to hold her up too long.

“More coffee?” she asks, holding up the coffee pot.

I shake my head and place my money with a nice tip on the table for her.

“No, thanks. I have to get going but I was hoping you could point me in the direction of a cheap motel. I’m new in town and haven’t had a chance to check anywhere out yet.”

“Oh, I can do one better. I have a list somewhere. Trust me, you’re not the first person to head on over from the station looking for somewhere to stay. Give me two shakes and I’ll be right back.” She doesn’t wait for my response before she turns on her heel and hurries over to the man in the suit three tables over, pouring him a fresh coffee before snatching up his empty plate and taking it to the counter.

Reaching over, she grabs something before walking back to me.

“Here we go. This is a list

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