Hidden Truths (Intertwined Souls Series Book 3)

by Mary D. Brooks

  “A year.” Zoe smiled at the memory of that special night. “We learned that Father H was going to be sent on the same train that the Resistance was going to blow up. I got so angry that I just ran and yelled at the world.”

  “That’s so unlike you, Zoe,” Elena teased.

  Zoe replied with a crooked grin. “Eva found me and we talked a little in church before we went back to the house, but I was covered in mud and traipsed mud into the house—a god-awful mess. Eva told the housekeeper to have a bath ready. We went upstairs.” Zoe grinned wider. “She was so worried about me catching something.”

  “She really cared about you.”

  Zoe nodded. “She was very worried that I was going to get shot and then worried I would catch something and be sick. She was so surprised when I told her that she wasn’t a boy and that I didn’t like boys. You should have seen the look on her face. That’s the night she kissed me for the first time. She paid a terrible price for that.”

  “What happened at Athena’s Bluff?”

  “She told me she loved me and that she was willing to face the wrath of her stepfather because of it, if he ever found out.”

  “Which he did?”

  Zoe sighed. “He did, but we got through it. Athena’s Bluff is where I realized I wanted to live more than wanting to kill as many Germans as I could and then die.”

  “That’s an incredible story.”

  “She’s an incredible woman.” Zoe smiled. “All right, I’ve had enough of this going down memory lane. I need to cook dinner for my incredible woman.”

  Elena tried to get up from the sofa but after a couple of attempts she held out her hand. “Help me up. This sofa is going to eat me.”

  Chapter Seven

  Dusk descended quickly and the pink sky darkened as Eva drove her white car, affectionately nicknamed Aresti, down the jacaranda-lined street, and turned into the driveway. She scowled when she caught sight of Mabel. The presence of the motorcycle reminded her of Zoe’s accident.

  What she really wanted to do was take Earl’s hammer and break it into little pieces, but she stopped herself. That contraption belonged to Zoe, and she had no right to do that. She parked the car and sat inside for a long moment. Despite not wanting to think about her stepfather’s death, it seemed fate had conspired against her. She sighed. Well, she couldn’t just run and hide from the world like she had been trying to do. Shaking her head at her own melancholy, she got out of the car.

  Eva looked at the house. It was more than a house. It was a real home—a safe haven amidst a world that didn’t understand them or would want to.

  Whatever had happened during the day, she knew she could leave it behind when she stepped through that door, but sometimes it wasn’t what happened during the day that haunted her dreams. It had been a tumultuous few years and the woman inside the house was the only reason Eva was still alive.

  Sighing deeply, she straightened to her full height. “Stop this right now.”

  She stopped to take a sniff of the jasmine, which always reminded her of home, and then climbed the stairs to the front door. As she entered, she was greeted by the sound of Greek music and a wonderful aroma coming from the kitchen. She put her handbag down, took off her jacket, and hung it up.

  She quietly made her way to the kitchen and leaned against the doorjamb. Zoe, oblivious to Eva's presence, was dancing and singing to the music while stirring the pot.

  Eva snuck up behind her. “I could ravish you and no one would hear you,” she whispered in Zoe's ear as she put her arms around her and nuzzled her neck.

  “Oh, my...please, no. I mean, yes!” Zoe said.

  They laughed.

  Zoe turned in Eva's embrace and looked up into her eyes. “So, you want to ravish me?”

  “That's the plan,” Eva said, waggling her eyebrows.

  “Well, I have to let you know that my lover is due to come home at any moment.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Uh huh. And you know, she's quite the jealous type.”

  “Is she now?”

  “Oh, yeah. She is also the most beautiful creature God put on this earth.” Zoe grinned and caressed Eva's cheek before teasing her dimpled chin.

  “Can't be. I'm staring at the world's most beautiful creature,” Eva replied, getting a tender kiss from Zoe. “Hmm, I should remember that line. It gets me kissed.”

  Zoe playfully slapped her arm and giggled.

  “So, Madame Froo Froo, what have you been up to today, apart from letting a strange woman attempt to ravish you?”

  Eva thought the name was hilarious. She had earned it after they had visited the state fair and a woman claiming to be a fortuneteller wanted to predict Zoe’s future. Eva didn’t know where Zoe got the name Froo Froo from, but when the woman asked her name, Zoe came out with Madame Froo Froo. The fortuneteller predicted that Zoe would find the man of her dreams, who would be tall, dark, and handsome. He would give her what she really wanted. She didn’t finish the prediction because Zoe was laughing so much they had to leave.

  Zoe was gazing up at her, and Eva knew right then that her attempt to hide the tears was a mistake. Zoe always knew.

  “You’ve been crying.” Zoe brushed Eva’s cheek. “Why were you crying?”

  Eva swallowed and tried to clasp Zoe’s hand. “How do you know?”

  “Well, your eyes are red, and I know when you’re upset.”

  Eva didn’t respond for a moment. She wasn't going to lie to Zoe, who knew her all too well, and there was no point in it. “Reality came and sat on me today.”

  Zoe looked into Eva’s eyes for a long moment, took her hand, and kissed it. “Why don’t you go and sit down, and I’ll make us some tea?”

  “To ease the blobs?”

  “To banish the blobs.”

  “Okay.” Eva leaned down and tenderly kissed Zoe’s lips before she walked out of the kitchen.

  ***

  Zoe sighed as she watched Eva leave. She wondered if someone at work had mentioned Eva’s stepfather.

  Zoe put the kettle on and picked up two cups. She heard Eva go into the bathroom and run the water for a few minutes. Family was important to Eva, and lately she had begun to tell her about her childhood and growing up in a wealthy family in Germany. Little by little, the pieces of a giant puzzle were coming together. Zoe knew there were good memories intermixed with the bad, and at some point those happy memories resurfaced. Zoe was glad that they had. Eva’s childhood was so different from her own. She would dearly love to hear stories and see photographs of that time.

  Zoe smiled at the memory of a picture of a very young Eva with her grandparents that used to be on the wall in Eva’s room. The look on Eva’s face made Zoe smile.

  The kettle whistled, startling Zoe out of her thoughts. She put the cups down, the tea to the pot, and then put the kettle and the cups on a tray.

  Eva came out of the bathroom and into the living room just as Zoe entered with the tea.

  The living room was decorated with a mixture of both their artistic endeavors. On the walls were paintings by Zoe and photographs taken by Eva. On the mantle above the fireplace were photos of their family—Eva’s father, Henry, their friends Elena and Friedrich, Earl, and David with his wife Debbie.

  Eva sat down on the deep burgundy sofa that dominated the room, opposite a huge fireplace, and stretched her long legs out on the white flokati rug that contrasted with the deep brown of the floorboards. To the right of the fireplace was a second-hand oak bookcase overflowing with books.

  On the other side of the fireplace was a small table with a gramophone and a tidy stack of records—a mixture of Greek musicians, English jazz, and German operas.

  Zoe put the tray down on an oak end table with white lace doilies next to the sofa and poured one cup of tea. She put a dash of milk just the way Eva liked it. She glanced up to find Eva smiling at her.

  Zoe handed Eva the tea and watched as she sipped it. She decided not to make herself a cup of tea jus
t yet and curled up against Eva.

  “Why did you get the attack of the blobs?”

  Eva sipped the tea for a moment. She put the cup down and looked at Zoe. “You know how I’ve been avoiding the wireless and the newspaper?”

  Zoe nodded. “I did notice.”

  Eva closed her eyes and leaned back against the headrest for a few moments. She opened her eyes.

  Zoe nestled her head against Eva’s chest.

  Eva smiled and kissed the top of Zoe’s hair. “I had a client today who reminded me I was living in the real world.”

  “You were living in a make believe world?”

  “No.” Eva shook her head. “I was trying to avoid the news.”

  “That doesn't work very well.”

  “Well, it does if everyone else is playing the same game, but Mrs. Fenstermacher wasn't playing the game.”

  “Ah. She showed you today's newspaper.”

  “Have you seen the paper?”

  “I saw it at Mr. Harris’ shop,” Zoe replied. “The game worked for a while.”

  “I always play a different game.”

  “Not always. You just have a way of wanting to shut out the real world.”

  “What do you call that?”

  “Survival.”

  Eva smiled and kissed Zoe's lips. “You're much too kind.”

  “It's how you got through Aiden. It worked then and it works for you now.”

  “It works until reality hits me on the head.” Eva shrugged. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Of course,”

  “Is it wrong?” Eva gazed at Zoe with a lost look that Zoe hadn't seen in a very long time.

  Zoe threaded her arm around Eva's arm and waited.

  “Is it wrong to mourn for him?” Eva asked. “Even though he was a monster?”

  “Even though he was a monster later on, he was still your father. I don't think it's wrong.” Zoe took Eva's hands. “It can't be wrong to mourn someone you love.”

  Eva sighed deeply and put her head on the headrest. She closed her eyes. “I'm torn between mourning him and knowing my mourning him is a betrayal to you.”

  “What?”

  Eva opened her eyes, glanced at Zoe, and stared into the unlit fireplace. “I feel like I'm betraying you, your mother, the others that suffered and died...I’m betraying myself.”

  “Because you mourn for your father?”

  “Yes.”

  “Tell me about him.”

  Eva turned to Zoe, looking confused. “You already know a lot about him.”

  “No, tell me something I don't know. Tell me something that he did when you were young.”

  Eva took a moment and then smiled.

  Zoe wanted to shout for joy at the look on Eva's face. “Want to share it?”

  Eva smiled. “When I was ten years old, I wanted to speak Italian because my father, my uncles, and my grandmother spoke it, and I thought it was such a beautiful sounding language.” Her smile broadened. “I went to Papa and begged him to teach me.” She laughed. “It was so much fun. We would sit at the dinner table, and he would say the word in German and then in Italian. I would go around trying out phrases and speaking to the housekeeper only in Italian.”

  “How did that go?”

  “It was confusing for Frau Milano...poor woman put up with me.”

  Zoe laughed.

  “I'm sure she wanted to laugh at me, but she played along. When I could string several phrases together that made any sense, Papa decided to surprise me by taking me to Rome. I was in absolute heaven.”

  “Is Rome as beautiful as they say?”

  “It's beautiful, and you would love it—so rich in history, and the artwork is just glorious.” Eva put her arm around Zoe and pulled her closer. “I'm going to show you Rome one day.”

  “That memory is special to you and you should treasure it. Mourn for that man, the one who taught his daughter how to speak Italian and showed her the beauty of the country. Not for the man who was a monster.”

  Eva swallowed. “Thank you.”

  “Ti amo, il mio amore,” Zoe responded in the little Italian that she had picked up from Eva. She lovingly gazed up at her. “I will always love you,” she said in Greek and then grinned broadly. “Meine Liebe.”

  Eva rocked back and laughed. “You are just...”

  Zoe brought her down for a passionate kiss to follow up her declaration of love.

  “Incredible,” Eva whispered as they gazed into each other's eyes. “Incredible.”

  “You know there is something you can never do.”

  “What's that?”

  “Betray me or our love. So I don't want you to think that mourning your father would betray me or my mother or the others. You should mourn for him, Evy.”

  “Thank you, my love.” Eva kissed the top of Zoe's head and hugged her.

  Chapter Eight

  Eva hummed along with the third movement of Vivaldi’s Winter coming from the gramophone in the living room. The third movement was her favorite and she closed her eyes and smiled at the very happy memories of sitting with her mother in a concert hall and marveling at the talented violinist who, without his knowledge, entranced a teenager with the magic of Vivaldi.

  She sighed. The warm water and soap on her hands from washing the cooking pot at the sink were her reality at the moment.

  She was quite happy to leave the cooking to Zoe, who enjoyed it. The few times Eva had cooked were a culinary equivalent to allowing a tone-deaf singer into the Vienna Boys Choir. That was how Zoe had described it after she had valiantly tried to eat a German stew Eva had cooked. Her analogy of the tone-deaf singer had stung at first, but then she had to laugh because it was true. Zoe couldn't eat it even if she did love her dearly.

  Eva wore light tan long shorts that reached down to her knees and a lime green shirt, and she was barefoot. It was perfection itself to be out of her work clothes and not wearing shoes. She could easily go barefoot in the house, even in winter, if it wasn't for Zoe's obsession with wearing slippers and worrying about catching a cold. Eva wasn't sure how catching a cold and not wearing shoes were related, but after trying to tell Zoe many times that she couldn't catch a cold that way, she relented and wore slippers in the winter.

  Zoe walked into the room, humming the music.

  Eva turned around and smiled. “Ciao, bella.” She flicked a bit of the soap suds on her hands at Zoe.

  Zoe dodged the spray, came up behind her, and put her arms around her waist. She rested her head on Eva’s back. “Italian is such a beautiful language when you speak it.”

  “Isn’t it normally?”

  “It is, but no one sounds as sexy as you.”

  Eva smiled. “Are you going to help me with the washing, my bella?”

  “No, that’s all yours.”

  Eva squirmed in Zoe's arms and giggled as Zoe tickled her. “I'm going to drop the pot.” She held it up.

  “No, you won't.” Zoe lifted Eva's shirt slightly and slipped her tape measure around Eva's waist. She mumbled something that Eva couldn't quite decipher.

  Eva turned around. Zoe sat down at the table, picked up her pen, and wrote something in her sewing book.

  “Ooh, look.” Eva dropped the pot into the water-filled basin, making the water splash over the sides.

  Zoe half turned and shook her head. “Do you want some dessert?”

  “What did you make?”

  “Baklava.” Zoe went to the refrigerator and pulled the door open.

  Eva couldn’t quite get used to this addition to their kitchen. Their new refrigerator was larger than its predecessor and bright red. Zoe’s favorite color was red, so as soon as she saw it, it was destined to go into their kitchen. Eva wasn’t all that enthused with the salesman’s sales pitch, but Zoe was sold when she saw the eggcups in the door crisper and ice trays in the freezer at the top.

  Zoe held out the tray of baklava.

  Eva snagged a small piece. “Hmm, this is good.” She licked
her fingers and gazed at Zoe as she put the tray on the table. “I love it when you do that.”

  “Do what?”

  “That little hair tuck behind your ear,” Eva replied and mimicked tucking her own hair behind her ear.

  Zoe's red hair had grown over the winter months, and when she was in the sun, the red-gold highlights illuminated her face. Eva loved it so much she had persuaded Zoe not to cut it, not an easy task since Zoe liked her hair shorter. To her surprise, Zoe had agreed on the condition that Eva grew hers longer as well. She knew she had been out-maneuvered so she’d also relented.

  Seeing Zoe with her long flowing locks made coping with her own long mane worth it. “The baklava is scrumptious.”

  Zoe looked up and grinned. “You say that about everything I do.”

  “Not everything.”

  “Really?”

  “Hmm?”

  “What don't you like about me?”

  Eva nibbled her lip and tried not to smile at Zoe’s look of mock outrage. “You crack your knuckles.”

  Zoe put her hand over her mouth in mock horror. “Oh, dear.” She grinned and proceeded to crack her fingers, which made Eva wince. “You don't like that, eh?”

  Eva grabbed Zoe's hands. “No, I don't, but I love everything else about you. Come, sei bella.” She repeated it in German and Greek, which earned her a kiss.

  “Multi-lingual sweet talker.”

  “That’s me, the female Don Juan.” Eva turned to finish rinsing the pot.

  Eva turned to say something but stopped when she spotted Zoe was rubbing her thigh. She turned back to the sink for a moment and then decided she wasn’t going to ignore it. She placed the dripping pot in the dish drainer, dried her hands on the towel, and got down on her haunches next to Zoe so she could be eye to eye with her.

  “Ciao, bella.” Zoe smiled and cupped Eva’s cheek. “It doesn’t sound sexy when I say it. Can I have a kiss?”

  “Oh, no, you’re very wrong. It sounds very sexy.” Eva kissed Zoe on the lips. She rested her hand on Zoe’s thigh. “Is your leg hurting tonight?”

  “It’s a dull ache that won’t go away. How did you know?”