Free Finding Me by Kathryn Cushman

better?

    It was late Thursday night when Kelli drove past the city limits sign for Shoal Creek, Tennessee. She drove around the town square, lined by quaint brick storefronts that were perhaps a bit run down, but still charming. The center of the square held a large gazebo, which was lit and pumping out music from speakers that Kelli didn’t see.
    What must it be like to grow up in a place like this? It was a far cry from her home in California, but something about it seemed welcoming. Familiar almost.
    She was too tired to do any more exploring tonight, so she found a hotel on the main strip and checked in, relieved to see the rooms were clean and quite nice. This would be a good place to call home for the next week. Yes, this would work just fine.
    The next morning she was up early. She ate the continental breakfast in the hotel lobby, sipped her hot tea, and reviewed her plans for the day. She would drive out to the store Ken Moore owned and just check out the situation. Did he work back in an office, or was he out somewhere that would lend itself to conversation? After that, she would drive by the address for the home she would havelived in for the first year of her life. She wasn’t sure if her mother still lived there or not, but it seemed like a good place to start. These two excursions ought to give her some idea of what to do next.
    She pulled up the map on her phone and studied the route she would use to get to the store. It was about fifteen miles from town, situated out on a country road. Kelli glanced toward the sun streaming through the window of the hotel lobby. It was a beautiful day outside, the perfect time to start something new. She stood up, her stomach already starting to flutter. The search for answers started right now.
    It was almost forty-five minutes later when Kelli pulled into the parking lot of Moore’s More Store. The landscape on the drive was gorgeous—rolling green hills, huge lawns that were thick and neatly mowed, and an abundance of trees—their leaves just sprouting out green and new.
    The store building itself was mostly nondescript. It appeared to be forty or fifty years old, concrete block, brown shingles, high windows plastered with advertisements for everything from soda to paper towels to spark plugs.
    Kelli sat in her car, thinking through her options. Would she just do a walk-through or was she planning to strike up a conversation if the opportunity presented itself? This store was too far off the beaten path for a “just passing through” kind of visit—those kinds of stores were back on the highway. The only reason to have followed this winding and twisting road this far into the country was because you had business or family in this immediate area.
    Then she noticed the Help Wanted sign in the window. Perfect. She could go in, feign interest in the job, and ask questions without seeming overly suspicious. She could go so far as to take a job application with her. Of course she would never bring it back, but it gave her the perfect cover story as to what she was doing here and gave an excuse to ask a few questions of her own.
    As she crossed the parking lot, two women walked out of the store. One was dressed in a nice sundress and sandals. She was saying to her companion, “I’m telling you, he didn’t even look at my résumé. I don’t think he’s really even looking for someone else to work here. That’s why it’s his son’s phone number on the sign.”
    That interesting tidbit of information might make Kelli’s new plan a bit less helpful than she’d hoped, but also less dangerous. She looked down at her Bermuda shorts and blouse and wondered if it would be believable that she was looking for a job, dressed in this casual way. Well, it was time to find out just how far she could take it. Maybe she wouldn’t even say anything on this visit, she’d just wait and see what felt right.
    The door opened with a whoosh, releasing the smell of mothballs and dust.