Free Descension by B. C. Burgess Page A

leaking through her vents suddenly smelled salty.
    She followed the signs into Cannon Beach and kept driving west, looking for water, which she eventually spied in the distance, through gaps between buildings.
    Unsure where to go, she followed the foot traffic onto North Hemlock Street, passing shops and restaurants that looked more like houses than businesses, and she kept glimpsing the ocean at intersections. A road lined with inns ran closer to the beach, but Layla was keeping an eye out for one business in particular. After driving for several blocks without finding it, she sighed and searched out a parking lot, trying to deny the disappointment. With only an hour of daylight left, she didn’t want to waste time chasing coffee shops in the sky.
    When she exited the car, bitter wind whipped her ponytail around, and she quickly grabbed the long locks, pulling them in front of her shoulder as she raised her hood. Though she couldn’t see the ocean, she could taste it in the shockingly salty air, and she could hear its waves crash against the shore. She leaned against her car and closed her eyes, wondering what it would be like to stand on the beach when her senses were so overwhelmed at a distance.
    “Why speculate?” she mumbled, opening her eyes. Then she joined the pedestrians on the sidewalk.
    She quickly found a café… but not the one she was looking for, so she kept walking. A few window displays tempted her, particularly the ones advertising fudge, but she wanted to find a good cup of coffee—the best cup of coffee—then go see the beach.
    After another three blocks of crushed hopes, she decided to give it a rest and backtrack, visit a different café and perhaps ask about the one eluding her.
    She headed for the next crosswalk, wanting to explore the other side of the road, but when she reached the corner and glanced around, she finally found what she’d come for.
    Larger than she expected but as charming as she’d imagined, the L shaped building sat on a corner lot, a wooden deck stretching from one corner to the other, providing seating and scenery with cedar tables and overflowing flower beds. The smaller side of the L was devoted to a quaint bookstore simply named Enid’s , while the bigger portion of the building had a large, white sign curving over the entrance— Cinnia’s Cannon Café.
    Layla froze. She couldn’t make her feet move. A huge lump consumed her throat and her stomach knotted. After all these years the café survived, keeping memories made within its walls alive.
    She tried to force the lump down, but her mouth was too dry. This is stupid, she scorned. There was good coffee in there and she was standing outside, afraid to move. She took a deep breath, trying to relax. Then she forced her feet forward, one shaky step at a time.

Chapter 6
     
     
    The café was perfect, exactly the way a coffee shop should look—cocoa and cream color scheme, round wooden tables and high-back stools, comfy couches and chairs facing a wood burning fireplace. And the aromas were heavenly. Layla wanted coffee before walking in, but after getting a whiff of the place, she needed it like an addict needs their fix.
    The shop was busy and being tended by only one woman, who handled the pressure well, every move perfected and immeasurably graceful. She was around Layla’s age, but slightly taller with an outgoing attitude, and she was gorgeous, an unusual bright spot amidst mundane kitchen gadgets. Her long, blonde hair hung straight and smooth from a flawless part, boasting honey-gold undertones, and she had a friendly face, with round cheeks and a big smile exposing perfect teeth.
    When the line advanced, giving Layla a closer look, her mouth fell open. She’d never seen eyes like the clerk’s before. Around the pupil, ran a thin ring of pastel green, which was encircled by a darker ring, then another. They continued that way, subtly changing hues, until they reached the outer iris, a dark layer of forest