“But what if Mr. Blankenship yells at me when I open his door?”
“He won’t. He’s not that kind of person. Apologize for the interruption and then ask if there’s anything you can get for him. Or do for him. See what he says.”
“And…what if”—Eva swallowed—”what if he’s not in his room?”
“Get back here and I’ll call the police.”
“Shouldn’t you call the policenowif you think—”
“And tell them what? I haven’t proof that anything bad has happened. Everyone knows Elwood Blankenship never leaves his house. C’mon, Eva. This isn’t that hard. I would do it if June would let me do what she’s letting you do. Surely you’ve done far more difficult things. Youdidsurvive a war.”
The observation stung even though it was spectacularly true.
She had done far more difficult things.
“All right,” she said.
“If you see anything amiss, you come back here right away.”
June Blankenship was slow to answer the door when Eva rang the bell. When it finally opened, June was bent to one side and her face was pinched in obvious pain. The pinned twist at the back of her head had loosened and tendrils of her hair, flecked here and there with gray, spilled about her neck.
She looked helpless, in pain, and quite incapable of chasing her through the house with the garden shovel.
“Hello, Mrs. Blankenship,” Eva said. “I am Eva.” She wanted to sound friendly. She hoped she did.
“Hello. And please call me June. Come on in.”
Eva was shown into a living room. Slightly open venetian blinds tossed rods of light across a sofa under the front window. Its leather was creased and dull but in a pleasing way, as though hours upon hours had been spent enjoying its ampleness. Throw pillows were scattered about the seats and back, and a matching armchair with the same tired but welcoming look was angled next to it. The magazine-covered coffee table, end tables, and floor-to-ceiling built-in shelves surrounding the fireplace gave the room the look of an aging university library—at least how Eva had always imagined one. Framed artwork of seascapes and African savannas and fox hunts hung on the walls. A dry bar with etched crystal tumblers and decanters hugged one corner, and a floor lamp and yet another leather armchair—this one tufted and with a tall back—sat in another corner. A small console television set sat across from it, and a hi-fi topped with three framed photos stood against the wall directly across from the sofa and next to a doorway that presumably led to a kitchen and dining room. Several record albums were strewn across the floor in front of the hi-fi as though one of theBlankenships had recently wanted to listen to some music but couldn’t decide which album to place on the turntable. Half a dozen cat toys were tossed about the floor. A thin layer of dust lay on all the shelves and tables, and a barely there scent of tobacco completed the decidedly masculine ambience, all of which calmed her.
The room looked comfortable but dated, as though everything Eva could see had been purchased years ago.
“Sorry about the dust and clutter.” June waved a hand over the room. “We—I assist my brother-in-law with his scriptwriting. And we’ve been busy on a new one. Very busy. I was going to tidy this room up today. But I hurt my back this morning.”
Eva didn’t know how to respond to an apology to a housekeeper for a messy house. She said nothing.
June stared at her for a moment. “Please have a seat,” she finally said.
Eva took a chair and June gingerly set herself down on the sofa. The seat cushions squawked as she took her place.
“I suppose Melanie has told you I take care of my brother-in-law,” June began.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You don’t need to call me ma’am, just June, please. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen Elwood from the window or out in the backyard—back when he was going out in the backyard—but my brother-in-law is a very private person. Did Melanie tell you that?”
“Yes.”
“He doesn’t like strangers, Eva. He’s rather fragile and I need you to understand that if I’m going to be able to let you in the house to help me. It’s important that you do not attempt to invade that privacy. His rooms upstairs are the only world he has right now. I will allow you to clean his bathroom and vacuum the stairs and hisoffice but I do not want you disturbing him up there when he’s behind a closed door or shut up in his bedroom. Do you understand this?”
The sense of calm wavered a bit. “Yes.”
“Thank you.”
“And…and what about meals? Shall I be putting something on a tray and taking it up?”
“No. No, you don’t need to do that,” June said quickly. “Neither of us, uh…eat much for lunch, and breakfast is easy enough for him to take care of on his own. We eat dinner early, so perhaps you can make something simple just before you go that we can heat up? When he knows you are gone he will come down and eat it. But only if he knows you are gone.”
“I understand,” Eva said, wondering how Melanie was going to take those instructions. Eva might not make it upstairs at all this afternoon.
