“Do you have any other skills?” June asked.
Eva shrugged. “This is all I have ever done for work.”
“Maybe you could train for another job.”
“That takes money, yes?”
June nodded, looked away for a moment, then turned back. “Say. Do you know how to type?”
The question surprised Eva and immediately brought to mind the cheerless office in Kyiv, its rows of clacking typewriters, and the stern Wehrmacht officers plunking down documents for her to translate from Cyrillic and then oftentimes retype in German.
“I do. It has been a while, though.”
“Were you fast? Accurate?”
The Nazis had demanded accuracy but she had not been fast enough for them. No one in that room had been.
“Not really.”
“I could help you there. And I know people at the studio where Frank and I both worked. If you catch on and can do it fast and without mistakes, I might be able to help you get a spot in the typing pool. It’s not great money, but it would pay more than a maid’s wages. And then you wouldn’t have to worry about this anymore.”
This was the last thing Eva thought she’d get from June—help—and she stared at her agape.
“You would do that?” Eva said after a moment’s pause.
“Why not? It’s not your fault what happened. You didn’t ask for any of this. It was a tragedy for you.”
June’s words clanged in her head as Eva fought for words of reply. She wanted to serve those words back to June and ask what tragedy had fallen on her that she had not asked for. And what had she done about it? Where was Elwood?
And yet…
She wanted far more in that moment to do something with her meaningless existence besides cleaning up the messes of other people’s lives.
“June. I…I don’t know what to say,” Eva said.
“How about you finish with that tree and we can start today.And we don’t have to say anything to Melanie about any of this. When you’re ready to quit you can just give your notice.”
Tears of gratitude stung Eva’s eyes. Here she’d wanted to cajole June into opening up about Elwood, and instead June was extending an offer of help. June was surely no callous brute.
Accidents happen. They happen. She knew this.
“I don’t know how to thank you,” Eva said.
June waved a hand. “It’s nothing. I’m happy to do it. You’re a good worker, Eva. And you don’t need to worry about what you told me. I’ll keep your secret. I promise. Melanie will never hear it from me.”
Eva was about to say she’d forgotten what it was like to have someone show such kindness to her when the doorbell rang.
June peered out the window with its view of the driveway. She drew in a sharp breath. “God in heaven. That’s Max’s car!”
“Max?” Eva sat up on her knees.
“Elwood’s agent. He’s been calling every day. I keep telling him Elwood isn’t taking calls right now.” June’s voice, now panicked, wasn’t much louder than a whisper. “Damn him for just showing up like this.”
The doorbell rang again.
Eva got to her feet. “Do you want me to take care of it?”
June stood, too, confusion etched on her face. “What?”
