Page 10 of A Map to Paradise

9

June swung the front door open wide.

Eva saw a man on the welcome mat dressed in a nice suit. His receding hairline was strewn with gray, and he looked angry. “What the hell, June?” he shouted.

“Hello to you, too, Max,” June said.

June sounded surprisingly at ease, and the man named Max stared wide-eyed at June, perhaps stunned by her calm greeting.

“You probably should’ve called,” June said when Max said nothing.

“I have been calling!”

“I mean you should have called before coming all the way out here. As I have been telling you for the last week, Elwood doesn’t want to see anyone right now. He’s having a rough spell. He’s not up to it.”

“I want to talk to him.”

“But he doesn’t want to see people right now, Max. Not even you. Nothing personal. It’s just how he is sometimes. You know that.”

Max exhaled heavily. “ This is not how he is sometimes. I want to talk to him, June. And I’m not leaving until I do.”

He stepped past June and into the entryway. Eva immediately moved behind June to stand closer to the staircase, nearly blocking it.

“Who are you?” Max said to Eva.

For a second no one answered.

“This is Eva.” June finally said, a slight edge to her voice. “I am borrowing her from Melanie next door. Eva is her housekeeper but she’s been helping out here because I hurt my back.”

“Hello,” Eva said.

Max nodded to Eva and then turned his attention back to June. “I want to see him.”

“Max, I just don’t think—”

“This is insane, June.”

“No, it isn’t. Elwood trusts me to make sure his desires are known and honored and right now he does not want company. We need to respect his wishes, Max. It’s unfair of you to demand more from him than he is able to give you.”

“But I need to talk to him! It’s important.”

“I can’t force him to speak with you. That would be cruel. I won’t do it.”

“Damn it, June, this is no way to conduct yourself in this business. He knows this.”

“And you should know better than to insist on something Elwood is not currently able to give you.”

“This is not acceptable,” Max said after a moment’s pause. “I think it’s time we got a shrink back in here. He’s never been this bad. You know he hasn’t.”

“I’ve been thinking that, too,” June said slowly, and Eva wondered if she was making up the comment on the fly. “But when I mentioned this very thing to Elwood he said no. I think we should give him a little more time before I do something he specifically asked me not to do. And I’ll have you know he’s not behind on the screenplay. It will be finished on time by the end of the year, just like he promised. He knows how important it is. He works on it every day.”

“What am I supposed to do in the meantime?” Max groused. “I have things I need to discuss with him.”

“You could always send him a letter, you know. You have a secretary. He’s still reading his mail, Max.”

“I’ve been his agent for twenty years!”

“Yes, but maybe that’s why he doesn’t want to see you,” June said. “You knew him before all this. Before…you know. The accident.”

“That accident was almost a decade ago.”

“For you and me, yes. But not for him. He feels it in his soul like it was yesterday, Max.”

Max swiveled his head to look at the stairs once more and for a moment Eva wondered if Max might charge past her, bolt up the stairs, and kick open Elwood’s bedroom door.

Half of her wanted him to. The other half was afraid something big and awful would come crashing down around them all if he did.

But Max turned back around. “I’ll give you a week. One week, June. If he’s not better, I’m calling a doctor myself. You tell him that.”

“I quite agree, Max. I do. Let’s give it until Christmas Eve, then. Or how about the day after Christmas? We don’t want to make the holidays difficult for anyone, especially for Elwood, right?”

“Fine. The day after Christmas.”

Max glanced up the stairs one more time before moving past June to walk toward the still-open door. “What does he do up there, holed up like a hermit all day long?” he grumbled.

“He writes, of course,” June said.

Max turned halfway back around to look at Eva as he stood on the threshold. “A pleasure to meet you.” He directed his gaze back to June. “If anything changes, good or bad, I want you to call me. Day or night, I don’t care.”

“Thank you, Max. That’s very kind. And do write Elwood if you like. I promise you your letter will be read. And answered if you need an answer.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He stepped out.

“Oh, and, Max?” June said. “Might you let the studio know Elwood is taking some time away from the phone and visitors? Perhaps tell them he’s focused on finishing the screenplay and doesn’t want to be disturbed?”

Max nodded. “I’ll take care of it. You take care of him. And I’m serious. If anything changes, call me.”

“I promise.”

Eva and June watched Max walk out to his vehicle. It was a convertible and he had the top down. It had probably been a lovely drive out to Malibu that afternoon, and the man likely wouldn’t mind the jaunt back to LA now, despite not having been able to speak to Elwood. It was that beautiful a day.

When he was gone, June closed the front door and turned to Eva. “I need a drink.”

Eva followed June into the decoration-strewn living room, not knowing what else to do.

At the dry bar, June opened a decanter of whisky and poured a healthy amount into a tumbler. She tipped her head back, swallowed, and then poured more. She took the glass in one hand, and with the other she massaged her back as she made her way to the sofa and sat down.

“It’s true what you heard me tell Max just now,” June said. “About Elwood feeling like the accident only just happened.” She took another sip of her drink and then leaned back against the couch. Her gaze landed on the half-decorated tree in front of her.

Eva moved to the sofa and sat down next to her. “What happened in that accident?”

June took a deep breath before speaking again. “Elwood was dating the woman who was in the car with him that night. Her name was Ruthie. I think they might have been in love with each other. Anyway. Ruthie didn’t survive and she left behind two little boys whose father had been killed five years earlier at Pearl Harbor.”

“Oh my! That’s so sad.”

“It was awful. El felt like he made those children orphans. He told me he’d been driving too fast and he’d had drinks before he got behind the wheel. He blamed himself for killing that young woman. It’s guilt and regret that kept him chained to this house all these years. And neither of those two things left any room for him to feel anything else. That’s the sad, honest truth.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“When Frank and I moved in here to care for Elwood we both tried, for years, to convince him it was an accident. That’s all it was. But he wouldn’t listen to us. And then Frank died, and he wouldn’t listen to me.”

“How sad.”

“As sad as it gets,” June said, turning her gaze to the photo of her, Frank, and Elwood on her wedding day. Her eyes were glassy, shining with ache.

For several long seconds, neither one said anything.

“Would you like me to finish with the Christmas decorations?” Eva finally said.

June didn’t answer right away.

“No,” she said, several seconds later. “No, I don’t.” She tipped her glass back into her mouth, emptying it, and set the tumbler on the coffee table. “You can finish with that later. Or tomorrow. I don’t care. Let’s go up to Elwood’s office and see about your typing skills.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now.”

“You can make it to the second floor all right?”

“Well, I’m not going to race you, that’s for sure, but, yes, I think I can manage.”

They started for the staircase.

“Elwood won’t mind my using his typewriter, will he?” Eva asked, curious to know how June would answer.

“I can assure you without hesitation that he won’t.”

Her tone was so final and definitive that Eva felt her eyes widen.

“It’s been a very long time since Elwood has been able to write anything well,” June continued. “And even longer since he’s sat down at the typewriter or even stepped inside his office. I’ve been writing his scripts for years.”