Read Secrets At Maple Syrup Farm for Free Online

Night-shift workers, truck drivers, and women dressed in flashy sequins, holes in their stockings, their heels scuffed; they all had that same pall, a kind of defensiveness in their faces, a clenched jaw, stiff posture.
    But here, it was almost like walking into a storybook. There was a relaxed and cozy air about the place, but somehow it made me feel on edge, like I didn’t belong. They’d see straight through me, and know I wasn’t like them. I was a drifter in their midst. They had easy smiles, and ready laughs, and I was so used to being guarded, and careful, so that nothing would be taken from me. No one wanted a sob story where I’d come from. And I was loath to share mine anyway.
    I hung my coat by a rack near the door as my senses were assaulted with the sweetest smells. Chocolate, coffee, and the spiciness of gingerbread baking. It was like I’d been lifted up and transported to a sugary-scented paradise. Music played chirpily overhead, while customers sipped coffee and gossiped.
    I walked to a display cabinet full of chocolate truffles in every shape and size, some dusted with red with some type of glitter, some with delicate gold leaf. My mouth watered while I tried to make up my mind about which I’d choose. Thoughts of saving money dogged me—even though I needed these chocolates like I needed air to breathe. As subtly as I could, I whipped out my cell phone and snapped some pictures to send to Mom. She’d get such a kick out of the artistry on each truffle. If I did land the job at the farm, I’d post Mom a box of the gourmet chocolates home, as a celebratory gift.
    “Well lookie here, it’s Lucy.” CeeCee pulled me into a bear hug so tight she squashed the air from my lungs.
    After she released me from the squishiness of her ample frame, I said, concerned, “You’re working after no sleep?” We’d napped intermittently just before dawn, but not enough that I could make my brain fire on all cylinders if I needed to. CeeCee must’ve had the energy of child, dashing about in the café like she was. I slipped off my gloves, and rubbed my hands together.
    “I’ve had so much coffee I won’t sleep for days. Now what can I get you?” She waved to people walking past, and then focused on me.
    I gestured to the chocolates, nervous as suddenly all eyes in the café landed on me. “How can you choose?”
    She guffawed. “Ain’t no way you can, my sweet cherry blossom. That’s part of our cunning plan to keep folks vistin’ every day! How about you take a seat by the window, and I’ll bring you a gingerbread coffee and a selection o’ my favorites?” She spun me around and nudged me in the right direction.
    “Umm,” I protested feebly as CeeCee trundled off, whistling a song, drawing amused smirks from customers. She’d said breakfast on the house, but even that was too much. I couldn’t take handouts. “Cee…” She was already talking to another customer, so I took refuge at a table, and looked studiously out the window, avoiding the curious glances that came my way.
    A minute later, CeeCee said, “Mind, it’s hot.” She placed a coffee, a plate of bacon and eggs, and a golden box full of truffles on the table. My stomach rumbled in appreciation.
    “This is too much, Cee. You have to tell me what I owe you.” I blushed, wondering how much such a deluxe breakfast would cost, frantically calculating in my mind.
    She waved me away. “It’s your ‘Welcome to Ashford’ meal, so put it out o’ your mind, cherry blossom. It’s just our way round here.”
    I knew CeeCee could see straight through me, and she was only being nice so I could save face. I finally managed, “Thank you, Cee. I really appreciate it.”
    “Anytime, sugar plum. Lil,” she said. “This here’s Lucy, the one I was telling you ‘bout. First time being a passenger with one o’ Jimmy’s near misses!” She shook her head and ruched her skirt up to sit before gesturing to a curvy, blonde-haired girl, who