“That’s true for some things. But sprinkles aren’t wasteful if they make your ice cream taste better.” June reached back andgrabbed the bag Lila had been eyeing. “Besides, I need these for a recipe I’m planning. Very important culinary purposes.”
“What recipe?”
“A super secret one. Sprinkles are a must.”
The sprinkles went into the cart, and June winked at Lila who smiled hesitantly back.
When they passed the flower section, June was the one who hesitated. Flowers weren’t specifically for Lila’s care, but they would make the kitchen table look that much more inviting.
It’s not your house, she reminded herself.You’re the help. You’re not here to redecorate.
But she bought flowers anyway—a bright bunch of small sunflowers—telling herself that if Senator Brandt protested, she could take it out of June’s paycheck. Once they got home, she put the sunflowers in a glass pitcher she found in the back of a cabinet. When she set them on the kitchen table, Lila stared at them like they were some kind of exotic artifact.
“They’re pretty,” she said finally.
“I thought so too.”
Her phone rang just after two o’clock—a FaceTime call from her mother, exactly when they’d said they’d check in.
June propped the phone against the fruit bowl on the kitchen island and answered, suddenly aware of how she must look—flour on her shirt from the baking lesson with Lila, hair escaping its ponytail.
“There’s my girl!” Laura’s face filled the screen, her reading glasses perched on her nose. “Oh, you look busy. Are we interrupting?”
“No, it’s fine. Lila’s in her room reading. We just finished making cookies.”
“Cookies! That sounds fun.” Laura leaned closer to the screen, her eyes scanning what she could see behind June. “My goodness, is that the kitchen? It’s gorgeous!”
June picked up the phone and did a slow pan of the space—the marble countertops, the large stove, the copper pots hanging from hooks above the island. She turned to show the French doors, through which the backyard shimmered in the late morning heat. “It’s pretty fancy. Other than the restaurant kitchens, I’ve never cooked in a kitchen this nice.”
“Look at that backsplash! Gary, come look at this kitchen.”
Her father’s face appeared over Laura’s shoulder, his expression considerably less enthusiastic. “It’s big.”
“It’s beautiful,” Laura corrected. “Show us more! What’s the rest of the house like?”
June walked them through a brief tour—the dining room with its long table, the living room with the cream-colored furniture and art on the walls, the back porch visible through the French doors. She didn’t go upstairs, because that felt too personal, too much of showing off someone else’s private space, but she pointed down the hallway toward her room and explained the general layout.
“And you’re comfortable there?” Laura asked when June had settled back at the kitchen island. “You have everything you need?”
“It’s great, Mom. Really. It’s a good job.”
“It looks like a wonderful job. That senator must be doing well for herself.”
“She works hard.” June didn’t know why she felt the need to defend the senator. “She’s not here much, honestly. Lots of meetings and events. But when she is here, she’s… fine. Professional.”
“Professional.” Gary’s voice came from somewhere off-screen. “That’s good. Professional is good.”
“Gary, come back here. June can’t see you.”
Her father reappeared, his face filling half the frame as he leaned in. His flannel shirt was visible at the collar. “I’m just saying,” he said, “you’re living in a stranger’s house, taking care of her kid, and you barely know anything about her. That’s a lot of trust to put in someone you met a week ago.”
“She’s a state senator, Dad. She has references. Background checks. The whole thing.”
“She’s a politician. Just because she is where she is doesn’t mean she hasn’t done bad stuff—it just means she hasn’t been caught yet.”
“Gary.” Laura’s tone carried a familiar warning.
“I know, I know. We talked about this.” He was quiet for a moment, and when he spoke again, his voice had lost some of its edge. “I’m just saying be careful, Junebug. Remember what I said before.”
