“I like it. I’ve never had muscadine wine before,” Maggie admitted.
“It’s a Southern specialty,” Andi boasted proudly. “So tell me, if you don’t actually know Ms. Devereaux, how on earth did you end up in Georgia?” she asked as she topped off Maggie’s glass.
5
Aside from the bizarre events that brought Maggie to Sweetwater, her first week at the plantation was rather uneventful and she quickly fell into a comfortable routine in her temporary new home; coffee on the veranda in the morning, tea in the library in the afternoon. The mornings were cool enough to take short walks around the property, but the afternoon heat usually kept her indoors. Maggie decided to enjoy her time here, rather than spend it chasing after answers she may never find. Even if she didn’t understand Ms. Devereaux’s motives, she knew her own motives. She needed the reprieve and that’s exactly what she’d found.
Andi became a regular visitor, stopping by most nights after work. When she realized how poor Maggie’s cooking skills were she made it her personal mission to teach her how to prepare a proper meal. She would always show up with an arm full of groceries and as Andi would show Maggie how to prepare some new dish she would bring her up to date on all the local gossip. Her social chatter reminded Maggie of her mother in some ways. Maggie felt like she already knew everybody in the town, just from Andi’s stories, although one name had been notably absent from all of her tales: Aaron Miles. Maggie tried to pretend she wasn’t listening for it.
The cleaning crew came on Thursday. Maggie tried to be as unobtrusive as possible as the women buzzed around the house vacuuming, dusting, and polishing the furniture. To Maggie’s surprise she noticed that the cleaning crew also steered clear of the East wing. Apparently no one was allowed down those dark deserted halls.
The house cleaning staff was well-instructed and efficient, working around Maggie as if she wasn’t there. Growing up they’d had a housekeeper, but to Maggie she’d always seemed like part of the family. As a child, Mrs. Burton would let Maggie help with the chores as long as she promised not to tell her mother.
It was strange to simply sit around while these women worked. Maggie felt as if she should offer some sort of help but knew it was not proper etiquette. Instead she retreated into the library and withdrew into the world of a well-crafted novel. The library was quickly becoming her favorite room in the house.
Monday brought an unwelcome call from Sam, the local mechanic who had towed Old Betty to his shop last week. From what Maggie gathered out of the conversation she needed some new belts, some sort of pump, and something for the transmission. None of that really made any sense to her, but what she did clearly understand was the grand total of $2000.
That was nearly all of the money that she was being paid for the summer, there was no way she could spend that much.
Sam had offered her two options, she could pay to fix the car or he would purchase it from her for scrap parts. He offered her $500, which she thought was fair considering the car didn’t run. It was a heart wrenching decision, but one she knew she needed to make.
Old Betty had been the first thing Maggie had ever bought with her own money. She’d secretly worked at a bookstore her senior year of high school to save up the money. Her mother had believed that she was on the prom committee. It was an acceptable cover, an extracurricular activity that her mother could approve of that also offered enough after school time requirements to hold down the part time job. Luckily for Maggie her mother believed that it would take the entire school year to plan the dance, so Maggie was able to use those after school hours to work at her favorite little bookstore in town. It was also to Maggie’s advantage that neither her mother, nor anyone from her mother’s social circle, would ever have enough interest to step into the shop where she worked.
She’d secretly stowed away her small earnings until she had enough to purchase Old Betty. She’d planned it perfectly so that she could buy the car immediately after graduation, the same week that she would be informing her mother that she would be leaving for college rather than attending a Finishing School in Switzerland. Maggie knew her mother’s intentions were good, to groom her for a life of wealth and privilege. It was the only way her mother knew. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t the life that Maggie wanted.