Greta soaked up the scene, looking forward to what the day ahead might bring.
She strolled past all the colourful gardens until a small commotion caught her attention. A man stood outside Millie’s house, patting his pockets and rummaging through his bag with growing frustration. Greta recognised him from Millie’s photographs. Jefferson.
Even though he was flustered, his slicked-back, shiny black hair remained neat and tidy with distinguished smudges of grey at his temples.
‘I’m late,’ Jefferson called toward the house, his voice full of exasperation.
Millie appeared in the doorway with a flower basket hooked over her arm. She wore her lavender dress and exuded an air of calm. ‘What’s all the fuss about, darling?’
‘I’ve forgotten something, but can’t think what it is.’ Jefferson scratched his head. ‘I’ve got a big day ahead in the office.’
Millie calmly reached into her basket and held up a silver Thermos. ‘You forgot this, didn’t you?’ she said with a knowing raise of her eyebrows.
Relief washed over Jefferson’s face. ‘Ah, thank you, my love,’ he said. He took the Thermos from her, unscrewed the top and poured himself a steaming cup of coffee. After one sip, he let out a contented, ‘Aaah . . .’
Millie patted his arm. ‘Don’t worry. Maple Gold helps to melt your troubles away. A wonderful coffee is the best start to any day.’
Greta’s lips twitched with amusement, feeling like she was watching one of the old commercials. ‘Maple Gold is saving marriages now,’ she murmured to herself. If only it were that simple.
Millie waved Jefferson off to work, her fingers mid-twinkle when she spotted Greta. ‘Hello there. Lovely to see you again,’ she called, beckoning her over. ‘Are you coming to the town hall for coffee this morning?’
Greta didn’t hesitate. It was the ideal chance to get to know the town and its people better. ‘Yes, I’d love to,’ she said.
‘Fabulous.’ Millie beamed. ‘I see you’re wearing your pearls. Do they make you feel any . . . different?’
Greta touched them and smiled. She had started to feel more confident lately. Was it because of the pearls, or all down to her? ‘I believe they do,’ she said.
‘Good. You wear them far better than I ever did. Shall we walk together?’
The two women fell into step, both watching as Jefferson gave them a final wave with his Thermos before disappearing around the corner.
‘Everyone and everything here feels right,’ Greta said with a contented sigh as they headed toward the town square.
Millie took out her compact, pausing to reapply her copper lipstick. ‘But of course. We try our best.’
Greta laughed. ‘Though if things were truly perfect, Jefferson would make hisowncoffee to take to work.’
Millie chuckled lightly, though a slight wrinkle appeared across the top of her nose. By the time they reached the fountain, her expression had shifted. A contemplative air had settled over her, as if Greta’s comment had sparked a thought or two.
‘I suppose it’s easy for things to look flawless on the outside,’ Millie said quietly. ‘But sometimes, well, I feel there must be more beneath the surface. Don’t you think?’
Chapter 16
THE TOWN HALLon North Street was a square building constructed of orange bricks with accents of cream stone that gave it an elegant charm. A bell tower surrounded by an ornate balcony looked like a wedding pagoda perched on the roof. When Greta had first encountered the building on the Maple Gold set, the front façade had been a flat prop supported by batons. Now it felt strange to push open the huge oak front doors and step into an actual building rather than a studio.
Greta’s and Millie’s heels tapped across the polished mosaic floor. A stained-glass window cast a patchwork of colours over their dresses. The wooden banister curving around the grand staircase gleamed with the sheen of fresh varnish. The marble steps also appeared unworn, untouched by the scuff marks of footsteps over time.
Several doors lined the corridor upstairs. One at the end was marked with a brass plaque that said Ballroom. Millie opened the door, motioning for Greta to follow her inside.
The room was clearly the crowning jewel of the town hall. Its high ceiling was painted with figures wearing flowing robes, holding out jars of Maple Gold coffee to each other in a style reminiscent of Michelangelo’sThe Creation of Adam.Greta’s gaze moved downwards to the polished floorboards, which shone as if rarely danced on.
Around a long rectangular table sat a dozen women. They all looked remarkably similar, impeccably dressed, with their hair neatly styled. All their conversation sounded upbeat and cheerful—about a pet show, a vegetable-growing competition, and making jam.
Feeling like the new girl in town, Greta had an urge to be part of their harmonious world.
Millie took her place at the head of the table, radiating a seasoned air of authority. She clapped her hands together. ‘Ladies, if I may have your kind attention,’ she said. ‘It brings me such joy to see you all, and I’m particularly delighted that our new neighbour, Greta, could join us. Let’s all extend a warm Mapleville welcome to her.’
A chorus of greetings followed. ‘Hello,’ ‘hi,’ and ‘how are you?’ filled the air.
