Page 13 of A Fall to Remember

JIM

Jim couldn’t believe how easily conversation flowed with Miranda. He sensed that Shelby was irritated with him. He knew she didn’t approve of his “warm and fuzzy” approach, as she called it. She was results-driven. He understood that side of the business, too. She wasn’t wrong. Their advertisers and the higher-ups at Voyager expected hard data and solid numbers—eyeballs on Miranda’s video would be necessary. He wouldn’t argue with Shelby on that. What he would debate was how they achieved getting views.

He watched Miranda effortlessly chat with locals and welcome tourists into the Green Grocer, as if she were inviting in long-lost friends. He watched as she noticed a young girl eyeing a package of brightly colored candy corn tied with silky tangerine and chocolate ribbons, and carefully whispered to the girl’s parents to ask if she could offer the bag as a gift. The girl and her parents were equally delighted. Jim got their permission to use a couple of the pictures he’d captured of Miranda coming around from behind the deli counter to hand the young girl the bag of candy. He also teared up watching her interact with an older gentleman who shuffled in and took a seat at the deli counter. Miranda delivered his turkey-and-cranberry sandwich with herbed cream cheese without even taking his order. She patted his hand gently as she placed the sandwich, a cup of soup, and a hot black coffee in front of him. “I’ve been thinking about you, Bob.”

Bob nodded and tucked into his lunch.

“You’re looking extra spry with that new walker.” She flashed him a playful smile. Miranda could connect with anyone from toddlers to retirees. “I saved a special double chocolate cupcake just for you.”

When Jim asked her about it after Bob left, Miranda mentioned today was his late wife’s birthday. “They used to come in for lunch on her birthday,” Miranda explained. “She loved our double chocolate cupcakes, so I always make a batch in her honor.”

None of it was scripted.

She was a natural. Jim understood why the Green Grocer was bustling. Miranda wrapped mouth-watering sandwiches in butcher paper and filled to-go coffee cups with their house brew, all while asking about customers’ families, their plans for the festival weekend, and checking in to make sure everyone had everything they needed.

How she managed to juggle so many tasks was mind-blowing. She passed out samples of sliced herbed turkey and rosemary ham and helped customers find a rare jar of spicy mustard imported from Germany or pick a regional bottle of wine for their dinner party.

Jim watched her work, completely captivated. A few times, he caught himself forgetting to take pictures or record video.

Who needed talking points when Miranda Brown was in the room? He couldn’t think of a recent client who he hadn’t had to coach. It was part of the gig to get influencers excited and animated about the places they were highlighting. But it was also a delicate balance. Too much energy could be off-putting to viewers, and too little energy tanked shares and watch time, both of which the algorithms rewarded. Jim was relieved Miranda wasn’t going to require any extra coaching. That was one less thing he’d need to worry about. There was plenty to do with getting the campaign set up and landing on a plan he and Shelby could both agree on.

When there was a short break in activity, she caught his eye, wiping her hands on a dish towel and dabbing her forehead with her sleeve. “So sorry. I’m not giving you much material, am I? I wasn’t expecting to be quite this busy, but it is the first day of Fall Harvest Fest. My staff will be arriving soon, and then we can watch the parade.”

“You’re wonderful. No notes,” Jim said truthfully, feeling his body being drawn into her orbit. His voice caught in his throat as he tried to think of what to say next. He was finding it extremely difficult to remain professional.

“Hold that thought for one moment,” Miranda said, lifting a finger and reaching for her phone. “Lacy, the young woman I want Pete to meet, is back again.”

Jim couldn’t believe his luck when Miranda called her son again, attempting to give him a glimpse of a woman browsing the gourmet food section with a group of friends. This time, he caught it all on film.

This was it. This was his first hook. He was already building the story arc in his mind—start with some pictures of Miranda in her element at the Green Grocer, like the photos of her interacting with the young girl, widower, and local families. Then they could build out the world of Half Moon Bay. He was envisioning a walking tour of the downtown blocks. Perhaps some shorts at the beach and along the rocky cliffside. Cut to the parade and pumpkin patch. Just enough content to give viewers a sense of Miranda and her seaside community, draped in fall’s glorious colors. He’d need to introduce Pete, too. He could roll out that content later today. A series of “Get to Know You” posts. Then he’d go for his hook—matchmaker mom Miranda with another well-meaning fail.

He knew without a doubt it would resonate with the middle-aged mom audience, who would see themselves in Miranda. Was there a mom on the planet who didn’t want to help their child find love? And how many of Miranda’s and his peers, including himself, were less than technically savvy when it came to framing the shot for a Zoom session or using emojis appropriately? No, the eggplant emoji wasn’t what you should send to a friend when you were in the mood for eggplant parmigiana. Maybe in the mood for something else.

Yeah, he was sure Miranda’s audience would relate to her trying to set up her one and only son. He also suspected there was an opportunity to draw in a younger demographic, too. Pete wasn’t alone. There had to be hundreds, thousands of people his age who dreaded the thought of their parents attempting to set them up.

Yes, this was good.

He’d found the sweet spot.

Now he just had to convince Shelby.

12

SHELBY

Shelby let Pete give her a personal tour of Half Moon Bay’s historic downtown. It encompassed four blocks of shops and restaurants. The storefronts and buildings were a mix of Spanish and Portuguese style. Lots of terra-cotta stucco and pale brick facades, with outdoor seating. Antique clocks, streetlamps, and leafy green oak and deep red maple trees lined the sidewalk. There were pumpkin displays and a dazzling amount of orange, brown, and gold everywhere she looked. Garlands of goldenrod and aubergine flowers and twinkle lights stretched across Main Street. Shelby had to admit that Half Moon Bay was a mother lode for social content.

“How long have you worked for Voyager?” Pete asked as they came to a stop in front of Books at the Beach, a bookstore with a window filled with stacks of fall reads. The store had created a display of falling leaves by dyeing old book pages in varying shades of yellow and red and cutting them into leaf shapes. They dangled in the window above an antique writing desk with a vintage typewriter and quill pen.

Shelby paused to take a few pictures. She never knew what she would use when building a content calendar, but she had some hard rules. Like filters. For Miranda’s feed, she was already envisioning using a sepia-toned filter on all the videos and images they shared. She wanted to create a mood and atmosphere and needed the aesthetic to be uniform and clean. Washing everything in a touch of sepia filter would give Miranda’s brand an ethereal vibe and capture the golden fall light.

She wanted to elevate Miranda. Sure, they could have some fun and weave in a touch of whimsy, but her goal with any of her major content creator accounts was to set an aspirational scene. She wanted audiences to want to be Miranda. She was crafting a fairy tale. A life that no average person could actually live. She needed every aspect of Miranda and Half Moon Bay to be curated.

Half Moon Bay had an artistic vibe. There was an art gallery every few shops along, wine tasting rooms, and boutiques with patterned paper umbrellas and funky metal sculptures hanging from the ceiling.

An unnamed number flashed on her phone. Shelby’s stomach dropped like it was in a free fall. Another creditor. Their warnings were growing sterner by the minute. How bad could it get? She imagined an episode of The Sopranos, her mom’s favorite show. Like, would someone actually come break her legs if they couldn’t pay? Probably not. But repossess her childhood home and everything inside? Likely.

“Hang on a sec, I need to take this call,” Shelby said to Pete, stepping away from him and covering the phone with one hand. Her stomach rolled as a bitter taste spread across her mouth. She recognized the number right away. This couldn’t be good. “Hello?”