Authors: Brenda Grate
Connie turned in her chair and leaned in to whisper, “I want to learn to dance like that.”
“I’d be too embarrassed,” Emma replied. “But I bet you could dance like that. You have the body for it and the grace.”
Connie shook her head vehemently.
“It doesn’t look like it’s a specific dance,” Emma added. “But more of an intuitive one. I think you just listen to the music and move.”
“Then you do it,” Connie shot back.
Emma laughed at Connie’s surprised expression when the woman who’d been dancing snatched Connie’s hand and pulled her into the center. She continued her dance, eyes locked on Connie’s, showing her with movements alone, the way of the dance.
After a few hesitant movements, Connie swayed with her, first her hips slowly, and then more pronounced. The woman took Connie’s hands and lifted them over her head before releasing them.
“Feel the music,” she said in a strong Greek accent. Her long hair cascaded over her shoulders and down her back as she tipped her head back and closed her eyes, still swaying and moving her hips.
Emma could see the moment that Connie let go and gave herself up to the music. She at first did the same movements as her partner, but then she began to move to a different rhythm, a faster one, her hips twisting and turning, almost like a belly dancer. Her arms rose higher and she tipped her head back, letting her hair fall so it reached almost to her hips. She spun in a circle and closed her eyes, her lips curving in a smile.
The Greek woman had pulled the mesmerized crowd in, but Connie had an allure all her own.
The music came to an end and Connie opened her eyes, looking almost surprised to find herself in the middle of a crowd of clapping people.
She made her way back to the table, a shy smile on her face.
“I can’t believe I did that,” she whispered.
“I’m so proud of you. You were gorgeous.”
“Thanks,” Connie said and grabbed her wine glass. “I’m so glad we found this place. It’s been so much fun.”
Emma took a sip of her ouzo, the warm drink spreading to her limbs. She felt like liquid herself. Despite her worry over Jen, she had been enjoying her visit with Connie more than she remembered ever enjoying herself.
The next song came to an end. The musicians put their instruments down and Dimitri put on a CD of Greek music. A couple of young men jumped up and launched into a complicated dance as though they’d been doing it since the cradle.
They probably have,
Emma mused.
She smiled at the yellow half-moon in the sky, lifting her sweating ouzo glass in a salute.
Yamas,
she whispered to the moon.
I’m really here! I did it, Papous!
Emma knew Papous was at that very moment smiling down on her from heaven as she sat beside the Aegean Sea, drinking his favorite drink and listening to the music he’d grown up with.
She lifted her glass again.
Yamas, Papous.
Emma couldn’t even whisper the words, her throat thick with emotion.
Thank you for the little house. I’ll not disappoint you, I promise.
“You okay, Emma?” Connie leaned over the table.
“Yes, I’m better than okay. I feel wonderful.” She gestured at the dancers who now performed a simple circle dance. “Let’s join them. That one looks easy.”
Connie held out her hand and Emma grabbed it. They joined the dancers, along with other tourists and stumbled their way through the steps until they had it nailed. The music sped up, and they laughed as they tried to keep in time.
The party had only gotten started when Emma decided they’d stay till the end. It had been a long time since she’d wanted to outlast everyone at a gathering, but now she was determined to squeeze every last drop out of it. She was free. And she couldn’t imagine anything better at this moment than being where she was and doing exactly what she was doing.
Chapter 33
Emma woke in the middle of the night, hot, with the sheet tangled around her hips. She had a vague recollection of a dream, a disturbing one, but she couldn’t remember the details.
Her iPhone said it was four in the morning.
She’d fallen asleep with the air conditioner remote beside her and had clicked it off accidentally. She turned it back on and placed the remote on the bedside table.
She and Connie had taken a room at the taverna. They’d asked Dimitri for a hotel recommendation, and learned he rented out rooms himself. It had been two a.m. and they were both a little drunk, so they jumped at the opportunity to head upstairs and get some sleep. Emma had taken the smaller room with a tiny balcony, Connie had taken the one across the hall with a larger bathroom and no balcony.
Emma tossed and turned, her thoughts whirling and soon realized sleep was not going to come again anytime soon. She put on the sundress she’d worn to dinner, grabbed her key and headed to the beach.
All the revelers from the evening before had gone off either to their homes or hotels. The wind had died down and the water quietly lapped at the shore. Emma slipped off her sandals and stepped into the water. Coolness licked her ankles and brought a smile to her face. She stepped further in, lifting her hem out of the way.
The moon, high in the early morning sky, cast a glow across the harbor. Small anchored boats rocked gently just outside of its spotlight. Emma imagined herself in a boat in the middle of the water, the moon gazing down on her, the water lapping at the sides of her boat. She shivered and stepped back to shore.
The image brought back the loneliness and regret of her dream. Papous had always told her regret was a waste of time.
But, how do I not regret things I wish hadn’t happened, or the things I wish had happened?
The moon wavered as her eyes clouded over with tears.
How can I be missing Alan when I can’t stand to be around him?
That was a thought for another day, not when she was already emotional. Emma continued up the beach and climbed the steps of a tiny, deserted taverna. The tables and chairs sat in orderly rows. She grabbed a chair and pulled it toward her, disrupting the order. She sat on it and hugged her arms around herself. The sign above her head said Taberva. She puzzled out the sounds of the letters and realized it meant Taverna. One of the hardest things about being in Greece was the complete unfamiliarity of the Greek alphabet. At least when the words were in Latin characters, she had a chance of understanding.
A movement in the shadows startled her, but she calmed when a stray cat stepped out of the darkness. It paused and stared at her. Emma stared back then moved her hand slowly down to the floor, outstretched to the cat. She wished she had something more to offer than just a stroke.
The cat, a lovely calico, twitched its tail and took a cautious step forward. Emma waited, patient, letting the cat decide. It took another slow step then made up its mind. It trotted the few steps to reach Emma’s hand and rubbed under her finger, arching its back to press into her. It twirled around and rubbed again. Emma tickled under its chin, pleased the stray had decided to trust her.
The cat jumped into her lap as Emma sat back and re-evaluated. Maybe the cat wasn’t a stray. It definitely wasn’t afraid of people, only wary, as it should be. She imagined it was the taverna cat, hanging around for scraps and the occasional stroke, careful of irritated kicks.
The cat’s purrs lightened her spirit and pushed the dream further back. Emma stroked the soft fur and again looked out at the water. She and Connie would head back to the house today. They planned one more trip together, to Hydra, one of the islands, before Connie made her way home. Then, for the first time in many years, Emma would be completely alone.
Emma still hoped Brad would join her, or even that Jennifer would come back. But for now, though, Emma had to move forward on her own. She hoped this alone thing would eventually get easier.
The cat jumped off her lap and Emma got to her feet. She felt sleepy and decided she would try to get a few more hours in. She didn’t want to drag her feet all day, especially as she knew Connie would be filled with energy despite their late-night reveling.
Emma had much to look forward to for the next few days of Connie’s visit. She decided not to think about what would come after, but live each day fully and enjoy herself.
Once she was alone again, she would decide what to do next.
Chapter 34
The sea breeze carried the sting of salt. The wind blew back Jen’s hair and would have taken her hat if she hadn’t tied it on well. She stood at the front of the tour ship she’d joined in order to get to Hydra Island.
The ship’s captain stepped up beside her and asked something in Greek. She didn’t know why everyone assumed she was Greek. She didn’t think she looked Greek and felt her clothing style singled her out as a tourist. But time and again, they were surprised when she spoke in English and professed not to know a word of Greek.
“Sorry, I don’t speak Greek,” she said.
“Oh, excuse me. I asked if you were enjoying the view.”
“Yes. It’s stunning.”
The mountains framed the sea and looked exactly like she’d imagined when reading about the Greeks sailing their ships to Troy to rescue Helen.
The captain moved back inside the cabin. From the spot where she stood, she could see the panorama of blue sea and rocky mountains, and tiny islands ahead of them. The waves grew larger as they approached their destination.
Jen wiped the spray that misted her face. Her lips tasted salty. She’d never been on the ocean. Exhilarated, she didn’t leave the front of the boat until they docked.
The captain smiled and held out a hand to steady her as she stepped onto solid ground. She was the last to depart, reluctant to leave her newfound joy in sailing. She decided that before long, she would find a charter in order to experience it again in a more personal way.
“Have a good stay on Hydra.”
“Thank you.” Jen smiled at the captain. “I enjoyed the trip.”
“I’m very glad to hear it,” he said in his impeccable English. “Will you be on Hydra long?”
Jen shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ll be here as long as I need to be.”
Somehow he seemed to understand exactly what she meant, even though Jen couldn’t have explained it.
“Yes, I’m sure you will,” he said, and waved to her as she stepped away.
A cat sat nearby, washing its face with creamy paws, seemingly unaware of the people teeming around it. The dark eyes squinted against the glare of the sun, its fur glistening in the light. While Jen watched, it curled up against a post and closed its eyes, looking as comfortable as if it curled up on a hearth, its family nearby.
A donkey walked past, being led by a small man bent from age. The donkey carried several large crates of goods strapped to its back. Jen felt sorry for the donkey, but it seemed quite content to do its job, perhaps thinking of its supper and the comfortable bed it would have that night.
Everything looked so foreign, even more so than Athens and Nafplio. It seemed as though the boat had been a time machine, bringing her to an era many years in the past. The tourists were the only things bringing modernity to the scene. Erase them, and it would erase a century. Jen felt sure that nothing would have changed.
She made her way toward the row of shops in the distance. She needed to find a hotel. Later, she’d search for a restaurant and then take a walk along the spectacular port. She wanted to explore her roots. Maybe one of her ancestors had lived on this very island. She could see why they would choose it. It was not only charming and beautiful, but there was a sense of safety, like they were cut off from the negativity of the world, living in their own little cocoon of warm sun, crashing surf, sturdy donkeys, and sunning cats.
It was like no other world she’d been in, and Jen found herself wanting to stay.
The port had filled with people and it was only ten a.m. Jen drank her morning coffee and soaked up the early July heat. She’d been on Hydra for a couple of weeks, but still didn’t feel any urge to move on. She’d explored much of the island and gone for dinner at the home of the owners of her hotel. She’d met a few of the shopkeepers, but mainly kept to herself. She spent a lot of time like the cats on Hydra did, quietly meditating and enjoying the sunshine and clean air.
She still hadn’t sent a message to her parents to let them know she was okay. Every time she thought of her neglect, guilt showed up like an eager gate crasher. She’d been trying to do her best to think over past events without judgment, knowing her own thinking to be flawed. There would be no way to come to terms with the past without seeing it through fresh eyes. She’d let go of some of the hurt and disappointment, but was under no illusion that there wouldn’t be a lot more to come.
A large white boat pulled into the harbor and docked nearby. She saw, to her delight, it was the same one that had brought her to Hydra. The Mantalena. She considered going to the boat to say hi to the captain—Alexandros—as she had many times since first meeting him, but felt far too comfortable in her chair.
Then her mother stepped off the boat, chattering with excitement to Connie. Jen slouched in her chair, terrified they’d see her. She’d expected her mother had gone back to Toronto weeks ago. It never occurred to Jen that she’d run into her. It reminded her of something the hotel desk clerk had said about Greece.
“If there’s someone you’re supposed to meet, you will, no matter how impossible it seems.”
Am I supposed to see my mother and Connie? I’m not ready, though.
Jen watched as they made their way up the street. Emma stooped to pet a cat. Jen’s heart wrenched. She hadn’t realized until that moment how much she missed her mother’s caring ways. No matter how many times she’d rejected Emma’s affection, it was still always there, free for the taking.
She watched them for a few moments more, hesitating between walking toward them or running in the other direction. She took a step in her mother’s direction, but then stopped.