#millie thomas

[w-himsisims]

They may or may not have been there earlier that same day...

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Transcript Below The Cut

Samuel: Welcome to Brindleton General Store- Oh, hello again ladies. Back again, eh?

Winifred: Hello, Mr. Baudelaire. Yes, we're back again. I think we might be your most frequent customers by now. Madam needs more flour for the pie crust.

Samuel: Well, you know where to find it. Lawrence, customers!

Winifred and Minnie: Giggling excitedly

Minnie: He's here!

Lawrence: Alright, old man, here I am. I can hear perfectly well, there's no need to shout-

Oh, hello Miss Monet and Miss Thomas. I didn't expect to see you again so soon....

[fromthedarkesthour]

Parker was done up from head to toe in a nice pair of slacks and button up shirt. His hair was carefully brushed out of his face and she swore he'd put some muscle on since she'd last seen him. "I told you I'd make you notice me one day, Millie Thomas," he laughed. He crossed his arms over his chest and she hurried to compose herself. "I was in the area of an interview and thought I'd see if you were up for lunch. I figured your answer would be no so you wouldn't have to go to the bakery with me, so instead, I brought lunch here." Damn. He was good.

In the end, she agreed to eat the sandwich he'd brought and sat down across the counter from him. She'd just taken a bite of one half when he reached over and rubbed his thumb against her cheek. "You had some dirt." The cough erupted from her chest as she worked to not choke on her food. At that moment, as she slammed her hand to her chest, a customer walked in looking for assistance. She jumped at the opportunity and waved the lady back into the greenhouse. With her back to him, she could hear Parker yelling at her with a laugh. "I'm not going to give up! I'll see you later!"

Why couldn't life just give her a moment of peace?

Millie Thomas is played by Rie - Full Bio

[w-himsisims]

With two unruly little ones at home, Winifred needed an excuse to get out of the house. Her neighbor, Gretchen, taught cooking classes at the Brindleton Grange and she attended them every Tuesday evening.

She was surprised to find how many new techniques and recipes existed. It seemed cooking was advancing just as quickly as technology and medicine were. She came to enjoy herself so much that she started inviting Millie to go along as well.

Soon, the classes became so much more than just cooking. It gave Winifred a sense of belonging and helped her feel fulfilled in ways that being a wife and mother couldn’t.

After all, there was nothing in the world like gossiping and laughing with the girls, and she was thankful for the newfound friendship.

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[w-himsisims]

Two oh-so-very smitten but oh-so-very shy peas in a pod

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Transcript Below

Lawrence: That'll be twenty-two cents, please ma'am.

Winifred: Of course. Thank you, Mr. Baudelaire.

Samuel: <mumbling under his breath> Did that boy just say twenty-two cents? As if money grows on trees around here, pfft.

Lawrence: Now Miss Monet, I've told you, call me Lawrence.

Minnie: And you can call her Winifred!

Winifred: Thank you again, Lawrence.

Lawrence: It's my pleasure, Winifred. Have a wonderful day now.

Samuel: When are you going to truly talk to the girl, son? I'm certain she fancies you as much as you fancy her.

Lawrnece: She's just being kind because she's polite. And she's not a girl, Pop. She's a woman.

Samuel: Wrong as you may be, that twenty cents you 'forgot' to charge Miss Monet is coming out of your wages.

[w-himsisims]

The months were growing colder, and the eventual frost was inevitable. While the farmers worked to preserve their crops for winter, the ladies of Brindleton prepared for the annual charity drive.

Winifred, and her friends, Millie, Gretchen and now Fannie, gathered every afternoon at The Grange to get a head start on knitting sweaters, mittens and socks for children. It was wonderful to spend time together drinking tea and gossiping, while being rewarding at the same time.

Gretchen graciously poured everyone another round of tea, and stood over Winifred for a moment, a coltish expression on her face.

"Now, Winifred," she said, placing her hands on her hips, "You never told us how your meeting with the publisher went?"

Winifred felt rather queer. It had been two weeks since her meeting at the Brindleton Weekly and she hadn't yet told anyone the news. With a shy smile, she explained the publisher had enjoyed her story very much and agreed to publish it in the pennies.

"What did I tell you? I knew you could do it!" Mille said, beaming with pride. After all, it was she who encouraged Winifred to try.

"So, when sha'll we expect to see your name in the papers? I simply must pick up a copy; I'm sure it's just fabulous!" Gretchen asked.

"Well..." Winifred hesitated. "They only agreed to publish it under a pseudonym; they said the piece was too graphic for a woman writer."

"What?!" Cried Gretchen, fury rising in her tone.

Fannie rolled her eyes, shaking her head in disappointment. "How typical." She added.

"Don't worry, Winnie. Maybe the next one will feature your name then, hm?" Millie offered, trying to remain optimistic.

Of course, Winifred wasn't naïve. She had been sad over the ordeal herself, but she had come away from the meeting with a great sense of pride. Only now, after talking with the ladies, she wasn't so sure, and her accomplishment suddenly seemed rather pale.

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[w-himsisims]

He's got one thought and it's simply 'Winifred'.

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Transcript Below

Lawrence: Afternoon. Would you mind telling me where I might find Winifred Monet? I was told she resides at this workhouse.

Agnes: [scoffing] She's not here.

Lawrence: Well, do you know where I might find her?

Agnes: No, I do not. If only I could get that girl to stay put. If you do happen to find her, Mister whoever-you-are, you tell her she is needed back at the workhouse for weeding and beating linens!

And don't ride that thing around on my grass!

Lawrence: [sheepishly] Um, yes madam. I apologize. Thank you for the help anyway madam.

Millie: Mr. Baudelaire, wait! I'm sorry about Lady Crumplebottom. She's just grouchy is all.

Lawrence: That's alright, Miss Thomas. Though, I don't know how you put with such bad manners.

Millie: Oh, I suppose you just get used to it after awhile. Anyway, about Winifred. She likes to venture down by the old mill pond.

She likes to go there to read and think...or to get out of linens. Either way, I suspect that's where she is now.

Lawrence: Thank you, Miss Thomas. I owe you one!

[w-himsisims]

As the rest of the world moved on, Winifred still felt all consumed by her grief. She wanted to get on with things, to care for her children as she did before, but it proved difficult.

The only person she could truly be completely honest with about her feelings was her best friend. Millie was both a shoulder to cry on and a listening ear, and it was she who reminded Winifred about her gift of writing.

After her tears finally dried, Millie turned to her with wisdom beyond her years. “You’ve always been gifted with your words.” She said. “So write, my friend. Get these things out.”

"I wouldn't know what to say." Winifred countered.

Looking down at Alexander in her lap, Millie smiled. "I think you would if you'd only try."

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