‘Shame,’ Greta said, watching him walk ahead. ‘I thought it really suited you.’
She followed him to the gift shelves, where Jim reached for a soft penguin toy. He held it up to show her. ‘Lottie used to love stuff like this, didn’t she?’
Greta stood beside him, her heartstrings tugging as she pictured their daughter’s chubby hands clutching her stuffed animals. ‘She probably still does. Not that she’d ever admit it to us. She’s really into animals at the moment.’
‘You noticed that, too?’ Jim moved the penguin so it looked like it was waddling. ‘When I dropped her at the talent show rehearsal, one of the teachers mentioned it, too.’
‘Lottie told me she wants to work with them . . .’
Jim turned to her, his brows raised. ‘And what do you make of that?’
Greta paused, choosing her words with care. Jim had always found it easier to talk about their daughter than about the two of them. ‘She’s got a special gift for performing, but if animals make her happy, that’s what really matters. Maybe she just needs to find her own way to shine.’
Her fingers sought out the pearl necklace. Was this reallyhertalking? Her words felt foreign to her, yet also right. Greta decided she liked this newer, more optimistic woman who was starting to peek through.
‘I just worry she’ll regret giving up acting,’ Jim said, flexing his jaw. ‘It gave her confidence. She used to bound onto set like she owned it, so full of spark.’
‘She’s a teenager, Jim. Still figuring things out.’ Greta smiled gently. ‘Maybe she needs to build confidence in her own way. Not the way we expect her to.’
Jim studied her with a look of quiet surprise in his eyes. ‘Maybe you’re right . . .’
Greta’s thoughts took her back to Iris’s shop. There were still three days to go until she could go back for the special brew, but surely Iris must serve regular coffee, too. It would be nice to spend time with Jim and talk about something other than their daughter, or their marriage, for once.
‘How about we chat properly over coffee?’ she said lightly. Jim glanced at his watch. ‘Sure. But I don’t think the café here opens till lunchtime.’
‘That’s okay. I know somewhere else, but it’s a bit . . . unusual,’ Greta said, smiling to herself. ‘We could go there now? I think you’ll find it very interesting.’
‘Yeah? Where is it?’
Greta looked around her, to make sure no one else was listening. She wanted Jim to hear her out and not make her feel foolish. ‘I know it sounds strange, but I found a new coffee shop,’ she confided. ‘It kind of appeared out of nowhere.’
‘A new building?’
‘No. An old one that wasn’t there before . . .’
Jim twitched a small, bemused smile. ‘Appeared from nowhere, huh? Sounds intriguing.’
Greta pressed on. ‘The woman who runs it made me a coffee she called theperfect blend.When I drank it, I somehow arrived in Mapleville, and—’
‘Mapleville?’ Jim cut in, his face scrunching.
‘I know it sounds bizarre, like it couldn’t possibly happen. But it really did. The sky was the brightest blue, the houses were pristine, and the lawns glistened. Everyone was happy. People drank Maple Gold all the time, just like the commercials we starred in.’
She studied his face, half-expecting disbelief, but hoping he’d believe her.
Jim’s cheeks puffed like he was about to laugh. When he saw the sharp look in Greta’s eyes, he straightened his face. ‘Are you serious? You definitely drank coffee, not a bottle of wine?’
‘I mean every word . . .’ Greta stepped closer, ready to add her pièce de résistance. ‘You were there, too.’
‘Me?’ He picked up a small pink orchid, sniffing it as if playing for time.‘Right.Let me guess. I was dressed in a silver suit, riding a unicorn? Or maybe wearing that Indiana Jones hat?’ He flashed her an awkward grin.
Greta twitched a shoulder. ‘I didn’t tell you so you could laugh at me . . .’
Jim set the flower back down. ‘I’m not saying I don’t believe you. It just sounds . . . unlikely. You’ve been through a lot recently, losing your mum, trying to find work . . . and things between us . . .’ His eyes clouded, and he looked away.
‘I didn’t imagine it,’ she said tersely. ‘If we go together, you’ll see what I mean.’
Jim stroked his chin, silent for a beat. ‘Why not?’ he said eventually. ‘I could do with a hot drink . . . in nowhere land.’
