Adam and Evelyn (25 page)

“You’re not curious about anything here.”

“We’ve toured all sorts of lakes and villages and towns. And I’ve been reading besides, if that’s any reassurance. Almost halfway through.” Adam reached for the Bible beside him, and held it up. Several sheets of paper were stuck in at the middle. “I dare you to get this far.”

“You might have looked in on a tailor or visited a fabric shop.”

“ ‘Good day, my name’s Adam, I come from the East.’ Do you think they have anything to teach me?”

“I mean the business end of things, what you get for what, where you get a business license. It’s all lost time.”

“One step at a time. Besides, people here don’t even know what a tailor is. They buy everything ready-made.”

With her toes Evelyn fished for her shoes and slipped into them. “What a shame, we’re almost there. I would love to just keep going.” She stood bent at the knees for a look in the mirror to comb her hair. “Tell me, if such a question may be permitted, what are those bookmarks in the Bible? Are you copying down the wiser sayings?”

“What bookmarks? These forms? Just keeping my place with them.”

“What forms?”

“Here.” He handed her the pages.

“No, Adam, tell me it isn’t true.”

“What isn’t? All this crap they wanted to know—it’s just like in the East.”

“But we’re not in the East anymore.”

“Aha.”

“Why didn’t you say something! We were supposed to fill these out. He wanted them back from me, he asked about them.”

“Did they also ask you about me?”

“No.”

“Not one thing?”

“Only if I had come alone or with someone.”

“He asked me that one too. I told him he should ask you.”

“That’s what I told them too.” Evelyn pulled on her jacket. “Come on, you need to get ready to get off.”

“I’d really like to know what that was about,” Adam said.

“They’re looking for spies.”

“If I were a spy, though, would I ever have a good story ready for them.”

“I don’t know what it’s all about. I really don’t,” Evelyn said, sat back down, pulled the cardboard box with the turtle onto her lap, and gazed out the window.

“LOOKING FOR SOMETHING?”
Gisela asked as Evelyn opened the door under the sink, and the garbage pail came rolling out at her and lifted its lid.

“Now that’s practical,” Evelyn said, “and comical too, somehow, like it’s tipping its hat.”

“You don’t need to rinse first, just put them in, either along the side or, look, like this, in between.” Gisela took the platter from her and placed it crosswise to the other plates in the dishwasher. “Cups and saucers, the smaller stuff up top, utensils here. Just not the big knife, see, it has a wooden handle. Always hand-wash wood. Hand me that bowl.”

“But it’s too big somehow.”

“Ah, pooh, look, just on top of the rest, no problem. And the cups, too, they fit along here, on a slant. Works best when it’s fully loaded. Just don’t put spoons together, ’cause they fit into each other.” Gisela distributed several teaspoons around the boxes of the plastic basket. “Open that again. The door under the sink, open it again, that’s where the detergent and clear rinse are. The detergent here, and this is for the rinse—but it doesn’t need any, there’s enough there, usually good for four or five runs. And now turn it on. Right. You don’t have to adjust anything else, just push the button and you’re done. I keep it
at fifty-five degrees. Just turn it on once it’s loaded. But don’t open up while it’s running, it doesn’t like that, it’s not the youngest anymore.”

“And no drying either?”

“Nope, tomorrow we’ll take everything out shiny clean.”

“And glasses?”

“I always run them over quick with a towel. If they’re not perfectly straight up—”

“I’d love to make myself useful somehow. Maybe do some of the shopping?”

“Oh Eva, I’m just glad that you’re both here. We use the car to do the real shopping, and I pick up the little things on my way home from work.”

“And what about housecleaning?”

“That’s Monica’s job, Mondays and Fridays. I’m just happy to finally have some life in the place again. Johannes didn’t even come home for Christmas, and I understand—Guatemala is more interesting than Eichenau. And when Birgit does show up, she likes to sleep in the living room anyway, so she can watch TV.”

“We’ll be getting a little money shortly, we can add it to your household budget—I think your husband would think that’s fair.”

“You can do that, sure. But you can take a lot of what he says with a grain of salt. He’s a sweet man, really. Come on, let’s take a load off. Want to share a little Baileys with me? Do you like liqueurs?”

“Yes, sure do.”

Gisela ran a cloth over the kitchen table.

“I don’t have anybody to tipple with once in a while,” she said, sitting down across from Evelyn and unscrewing the cap.

“Aren’t they waiting for us?”

“Let ’em be. Let them have their man-to-man talk. Eberhard is a stickler for fairness—which means anybody who works less than he does should earn less. He measures people by the work they turn out. Not even I could change that, it’s a family trait. They all worked themselves
to death—grouches with their noses to the grindstone, every single one.”

“Adam has never been able to really enjoy a vacation either.”

“Prosit, Eva, here’s to you, to you both, and to your being here and to your new life.”

They touched glasses and drank.

“Well, is that something or not?”

“Oh yes.”

“Well then, down the hatch.”

“Goes down easy,” Evelyn said. “Wouldn’t take much to get hooked on it.”

Gisela poured another round.

“A woman needs two legs to stand on. You need to enjoy life while you’re young.”

“That’s why I left. I knew there had to be something else to life.”

“Yes, something else always comes along in life. Prosit, Eva, here’s to the future.”

“And to you, Aunt Gisela.”

“Call me anything but aunt.”

“I’m sorry, but since Adam—”

“Prosit, Eva.”

“Prosit, Gisela.”

They heard laughter coming from the living room.

“We’re going hiking tomorrow, to the upland moors, you’d like it there. Hiking is a must in Bavaria. You’re going to join us, aren’t you? And once you’ve got the rest of the red tape behind you, it all starts up—I’ll introduce Adam to the women in my sewing course. With a little luck he can take charge in no time—the woman who runs it isn’t even a tailor. Gets jittery hands whenever she has to cut fabric.”

“Adam’s great with the shears. Is he ever! Clients tore each other limb from limb to get him.”

“I’m not worried about you either. Anyone with looks like yours,
my girl, as long as you don’t head down the primrose path …” Gisela wagged a warning finger. “You’ll see, they’ll be tearing each other limb from limb for you, too, no matter where you go. Where did you get that hair?”

“From my father—my mother’s a blonde, in fact.”

“And then blue eyes to go with it—the men must fall at your feet by the thousands.”

“Well, I do all right. I want to study no matter what, I want to study.”

“Adam’s going to have to start from scratch, but if he rolls up his sleeves … Prosit.”

“Yep, we’ll start from scratch,” Evelyn said and finished her second glass.

“Another sip?”

“I’m way out of practice, I can’t handle any more.”

“Oh come on, three legs and a woman stands even better.”

Evelyn let loose with a snort and pressed the back of her hand to her mouth. “Sorry.”

“You’re something else. And don’t look so shocked.” Gisela began to giggle. The mouth of the bottle slipped from the edge of her glass—she stared at the little puddle of Baileys. For a moment she looked completely sober, but then began to giggle again and pretended she needed to hold the bottle with both hands.

“You know, all this seems like a dream to me,” Evelyn said. “When I think that next week I’ll go into Munich and can pick whatever subject I want to study—it’s totally incredible, you know? I can’t even begin to imagine it.” Evelyn gave a start. “What was that?”

“That’s the dishwasher, the dispenser just opened, does it with a pop.” Gisela giggled some more. “What a shame you couldn’t see your face. We have to toast your little scare. And don’t make a fuss, we can handle this.”

Evelyn had laid her hand over her glass. “Better not,” she said. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

“From that little bit? What’s wrong? Damn, Eva, that can’t be. You’re white as a sheet.” Gisela held her hand to Eva’s forehead. “Sweetheart, are you okay?”

Those were the last words that Evelyn could recall later. And that she had wanted to say yes.

“AREN’T YOU
going to talk to me at all now? You’re acting like a child,” Evelyn whispered. She was sitting on her bed, folding laundry. Adam had stretched out on the other bed next to her. “If I hadn’t told you, there’d be no problem.”

“So now I’m to blame,” he said softly.

“You turn everything into such a big deal.” She snatched Adam’s socks from the radiator and laid them in her lap as she sat back down on the bed.

“A big deal?”

“A colossal deal.”

“You could have apologized, at least.”

“For what, Adam? Because you see spooks?”

“And why didn’t you tell me before? We could have made the call together.”

“How would that have changed things?”

“It would have changed everything.”

“Everything?”

“Yes.”

“And how, if I may ask?”

“It would have been a shared operation.”

“ ‘Shared operation’—I thought everything we’re doing here is a shared operation.”

“That’s what I had hoped too.”

“Poor little pussycat—”

Adam sat bolt upright and grabbed hold of her wrist.

“You call that blowhard up,” he hissed, “I don’t know how many times, give him our number, and not a peep to me. If Katja hadn’t called here, I wouldn’t have known about any of it. That’s the picture. And now spare me your smart comebacks.”

“And who told you that Katja called?” Evelyn grabbed up the socks in both hands and hurled them onto Adam’s bed. After picking up the folded laundry, she walked over to the wardrobe by the door and sorted things into cubbyholes. “How can anybody be so stupid!” she whispered. “What a numbskull!”

Adam spread the socks out beside him. Evelyn slipped on a cardigan, lay down on her bed, reached across to Adam’s pillow, and picked up the Bible.

“You could at least ask,” he said.

“Why? This doesn’t belong to you either. It was a shared theft,” she said.

Evelyn opened the Bible to the spot where the forms had been stuck as a bookmark.

“What would you have done if he’d asked you for our number because Katja wanted it?”

“I don’t think I would have spoken to him in the first place.”

“And how are you going to go about finding out if he’s an intelligence officer?”

“How did you go about it? Tell him that crazy Adam is seeing spooks?”

“I told him we’d arrived safe and sound. We’d agreed I would at least let him know that.”

“You had agreed that you’d call him?”

“That’s what he asked me to do.”

“Great, maybe you’d like to study in Hamburg?”

“Do you want to go our separate ways?”

“No matter what it is he does, he’s guaranteed to make a lot more than I ever will.”

“You don’t say.”

“Then all our problems would be solved, in one fell swoop.”

“Oh, is that so? It was Katja I was calling about.”

“Katja?”

“Yes, what else? We’ve got so many friends here, I don’t know who to drop in on first.”

“I didn’t know you and Katja were such bosom buddies.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? But, yes, I liked her right off.”

“Because she failed her swimming test?”

“Because she knew what she wanted and followed through on it, all on her own.”

“She once told me about some Japanese guy.”

“Japanese? What Japanese guy? You’re her hero. Without you—who knows where she would have landed.”

“Katja would have come out all right one way or another.”

“Maybe, maybe not. It was heroic anyway. You should remember that, it’d do you good.”

“What good would it do me? After all, you’re always telling me to think of the future.”

“I only mean that the sewing course and this room and Uncle Eberhard—this isn’t what it’s all about. Soon this will all be a thing of the past.”

“I don’t think so.”

“We’ll find something in Munich, something in the city—”

“With a garden and hardwood floors, ideal layout, in a pleasant neighborhood.”

“Even if it’s small, tiny for all I care. I can wait tables again.”

“You’re going to study, not wait tables!”

“I’d like it much better if we could start all over again, living together, but not in a house where everything smells of your family.
My pillow doesn’t even belong to me. And people in Munich are desperate to find someone like you—everybody says that.”

“Is that in the Bible?”

Evelyn flipped the page. “Someone like you, who can tailor clothes to order, tailor like you do, with such great ideas. Why shouldn’t things turn around for you? Even if you have to play second fiddle at first, for a year or two, that’s not so awful. You keep an eye on the tricks of the trade, the business tricks, and then take over the clientele. Anyone who’s used you never wants anybody else. You know that. Faith, love, hope—that’s in here somewhere. Love, that we have, and faith in you as well, the only thing you’re missing is the hope, hope, nothing else—and for that you have me. I am hope. I’ll sell my jewelry.”

“Don’t you touch it—no way are you going to do that.”

“My grandma would say it’s the right thing to do. She only wore a couple of things, the rest just stayed in its chest. In case it should ever be needed, and it’s needed now.”

“I’ll find something, Evi. Just not this sewing course, not after that scene.”

“Scene? What scene?” Evelyn sat up.