by Holly Greene
17
The look on Nick’s face when he met her in the lobby to take them to the church, was enough to tell Joanna that she could have him eating out of her hand if she wanted.
Hair pinned up, she had on a sleeveless, black A-lined dress that could be worn on a red carpet. With an open back, the top was fitted more so than the bottom, but with her legs on full-out display, it was her toned, tanned legs that would make men speechless— Nick included.
“You are stunning,” he said in a whisper.
But she wasn’t alone. He too was quite the looker.
Navy blue sports jacket, white dress shirt, leather brown shoes that only a true European artisan could have made, and a maroon bow tie expertly tied, he was quite dapper.
Instead of a belt, he wore grey suspenders with bronzed metal clips that shimmered in the light. If it weren’t for his devil-may care mussed up hair, he would look right in place in a Rat-Pack movie. You could put him on a runway and no one would think twice when they saw him. He would fit right in.
Nick held his arm out for her and she took it. She was accustomed to walking in heels, but if he was going to offer her his muscular arm she was going to make the most of it.
Chris yelled out, “Have fun you, two. See you back here later.”
In the car, Joanna asked, “Where’s the church?”
“A few minutes north of here. Through several thick pine forests and climbing, dirt roads and just before the land drops again and descends to a rocky beach. It’s an old church, so old that a bunch of wild cats see no difference between it and nature and have declared it to be their sanctuary. Monks feeding them fish might also have something to do with them being there too.”
The air had cooled since their fishing excursion, but had now taken on a flowery, ambrosial quality. Maybe it was where they were driving and the flow of wind currents across the island, but the air grew steadily more perfumed the higher they drove.
It took them about ten minutes to get there. There was no parking, and so everyone parked on the road and walked the hundred meters or so to the church.
Nick was right. The place did seem to have a cat problem. Several were sleeping lackadaisically along the stone walls and regarded them both with indifference as they walked by. One stretched and playfully attempted to hook a claw into Nick’s hair, but for the most part they acted like tamed wildlife at a park, and not, as most foreigners would assume, pets.
At the stone entrance people were lining up, waiting to be seated inside.
Joanna noticed several women looking at Nick, and almost subconsciously she squeezed his arm tighter.
A broad-chested man with short, black hair turned around and greeted Nick in Greek.
Nick placed his hand on her bare back and replied, “Joanna Nelson. Aftí eínai i kóri tou George.”
The man looked at Joanna, and then back to Nick before saying something else in Greek.
Ever the gentleman, Nick shook his head. “Let’s speak in English for her, so she knows what we’re saying.”
“Hello, Joanna,” the man said in perfect English, much to Joanna’s surprise. He took her hand. “I am Markos. Your father was a great man. I’m sorry for your loss. We all mourn with you. Do you know the couple about to get married?”
Joanna shook her head. “No, Nick invited me. It’s how he persuaded me to come to Skiathos.”
Markos regarded Nick and said to Joanna, “Nick always finds a way to get what he wants. He is like a magician who is able to conjure the elements as he needs them. In America he would be called a cocky son of a bitch. Here, in Skiathos, we just give him the space to do what he wants. He doesn’t disrupt the waters too much.”
Joanna turned to Nick. “And here I thought you were a good boy,” she teased. “Is Markos trying to tell me you’re dangerous?”
“Unsupervised, maybe, yes,” Nick chuckled, shuffling forward. “Less so since your father passed away.”
Markos pointed to Nick jovially and said, “He and your father used to get in a lot of trouble. I had to go and bail them out of jail in Athens once.”
Joanna looked at Nick in shock. “Why? What did you do?”
He shrugged. “We may have had a little too much to drink one night. There may have been a speargun involved on a public beach, and then a fight with the locals.” He looked at Markos and held up his index finger sternly and said, “I didn’t need you, you know. I was moments away from talking myself out of that one.”
“Friend, you were already in jail. You can’t talk yourself out of it if you’re already locked up. You should know that better than anyone.”
Nick didn’t submit. “If you’re good you can. And I am. I almost had them drop the charges.” He pinched his index finger and thumb together and looked at Joanna. “Almost.”
Markos dismissed this with a wave and said, “It was your father who called me, Joanna, once he sobered up. He didn’t give me any details. He just said he’d pay me back. Of course, I couldn’t take his money. Not after all that he did for me. But when I saw them, I was able to put the story together myself. Shirts caked in blood— bloody knuckles, puffy lips. They caught something in the ocean, and went into the city for another drink while covered in fish blood. They scared some of the natives, probably got thrown out of a bar, and from there things got out of hand.”
“OK, OK,” Nick said, stopping him. “Let me tell it.” He turned back to Joanna. “So your father and I would drink on occasion. This time we traveled to Athens, needing to see something new for a change. We went to a restaurant and ordered some fish, and they apologized and told us they had none. This perplexed us, you see. We said, ‘We’re in Athens. You’re telling us you are all out of fish?’ They nodded and replied that that was correct. So we left— I think we paid for the drinks, but I’m not sure. We got back on my boat, got an underwater light, went snorkeling with my speargun, and then went back, fish in hand. We may have looked a little crazy— I think this is probably the case. From there, you can imagine what happened next.”
“Nick,” Joanna said, wide eyed, “You’re a Grecian redneck.”
“I don’t know what that means,” he said, cocking his head and contemplating her words, “but I’m sure it’s an insult.”
“No, no,” Markos said and winked at Joanna, “it is the highest of compliments. She means you are a great hunter. Like Hercules!”
Joanna laughed, wrapped her arm around his waist and said, “I’m just glad my friend Donna is not here. The things she would say about me. She’d be bursting to tell you the things I’ve done.”
“Like what?” Nick asked, genuinely interested.
She pantomimed zipping her lips up and tossing away the key.
“What side are you sitting?” Markos asked Nick. “Groom or bride?”
“Depends on what side you’re sitting,” he replied.
“I was thinking bride.”
“Groom then,” said Nick, and the two men burst out laughing.
Some greeters at the church door escorted the three inside to a row of benches in the middle of the church.
The sun was beating down outside, and the church was welcomely cooler and darker— though it was muggy and perhaps a little too perfumed with incense. They were one of the first people to be seated on the bride’s side. Markos and Nick sat on either side of Joanna.
“Shouldn’t the groom already be here?” she asked them both.
Markos shook his head. “No. In Greece, the groom awaits the bride outside. He waits there with his entire family, and then the bride comes, escorted by her family. Then the groom gives the bride a bouquet, and they walk together to the threshold. This is why, even though there are so many people outside, we are one of the first people to be seated. We are not with either family. We are guests. And after the couple comes in, then their families will follow and sit down amongst us.”
“I like that they walk together,” Joanna said. “It’s nice.”
“Yes, it is symbolic. The
journey they make through life will be together, you see. And so before God, they walk together to the threshold to show that they are together in their bond and decision.”
“Are you married?” Joanna asked.
Markos shook his head and laughed out loud. “No, no woman will not have me. There’s a reason your father called me when he and Nick were locked up,” he said. “I was the only one he wasn’t embarrassed to call.”
Nick and Markos snickered, obviously two great friends who couldn't be together without laughing.
“So I’m seated next to two troublemakers, is what you’re telling me?” Joanna teased.
Nick and Markos nodded at the same time emphatically.
“But we’re also the smartest ones here,” Nick said. “So you get and you give,” he added.
“He means it’s a give-and-take,” Markos chuckled.
Outside a few people clapped and cheered, and then silence quickly followed.
A few minutes later, the air seemed to settle, and a hush fell amongst the crowd. Joanna turned around to see a young man and woman, dressed in typical bridal attire, begin to walk down the aisle.
The man looked similar to Markos— broad chested, muscular— but had less of a mischievous air about him. The woman— could easily be Joanna’s younger sister. Dark curly black hair, average height, round face. She was beautiful. Her eyes sparked something within Joanna and her stomach twisted a little.
She whispered to Nick, “We’re sure she’s not my sister?”
Nick made a face and shook his head no.
Maybe they knew each other in a past life? And were destined to cross paths again.
Joanna tried to relax in her seat, realizing that all of Nick’s mystical talk about Greek gods and destiny was getting to her.
The ceremony started and she tried to follow as best as she could. The priest spoke slowly and purposefully, resting a large bible on his arms as if it were a platter. He turned the pages as he spoke, but seemed to have the entire ceremony memorized as he rarely looked at it.
The bride’s mother, just like a mother would in any other country, became a sobbing mess, and the bride turned to her sympathetically, tears streaming from her eyes, too. It was during this brief exchange that she looked up and she and Joanna locked eyes.
She feels it, too, Joanna thought, unsettled.
The bride seemed reticent to look away from Joanna, but went back to the priest when he turned the page.
“You’re absolutely positive we’re not sisters?” she whispered to Nick again.
“Hush, Joanna. I am positive.” She duly felt like a scolded little girl, and remained quiet through the rest of the ceremony.
The priest took the rings out and placed them on the couple’s fingers, then two people (best man and maid of honor?) swapped the rings a few times between the couple. It was very formal until the best man accidentally almost dropped the bride’s ring and the entire church chuckled at him. He managed to keep his cool, but his entire face flushed red.
The priest resumed talking, and then brought out to two… Joanna cocked her head. She couldn’t tell what they were.
Nick leaned into her and whispered, “Stefanas. Floral crowns.”
The stefanas were linked together by a ribbon, and again, the best man and maid of honor exchanged the crowns back and forth between the groom and bride.
The priest said another prayer and suddenly the entire church rose up and started clapping and whistling.
Nick handed her a pouch packed with rose petals. “Let them have it!”
Joanna tossed her petals and they landed gingerly upon the newly husband and wife, while again she and the bride locked eyes as she walked past
The church emptied outside.
“Time to go catch the bouquet!” Markos shouted enthusiastically. Catch it Joanna, and tie Nick down,” he added grinning. “Nothing would make me happier.”
She tried to object, but Markos guided her along with all of the other unmarried women outside where the bride was already waiting. She had her back to all of them when she tossed her bouquet high into the air.
Joanna had no intention of catching it and had only just gotten her bearings when the mass of flowers smacked her in the face and landed in her arms.
If any of the women had known her, they probably would have tried to snatch it away from her. As it was, they all just looked at her and seemed confused as to who she was.
The bride turned around and saw who had caught it. She beamed and gave her a knowing nod.
Joanna was suddenly lifted up by Markos and spun around. “Well done!” he exclaimed. “Now, go tell Nick the good news.”Nick was talking to the priest inside the church and the two were in serious discussion. Shoulders bumping, Nick talked and held the priest’s hand as he escorted the old, arthritic man outside. The priest listened to everything he had to say, then patted him on the back and brought him in close to whisper in his ear. Nick nodded his head as if in agreement.
When they’d finished, Joanna stood still and shyly lifted the flowers for him to see.
He slapped his knee and laughed. “You see? You cannot leave Skiathos. Now that you are destined to be married here.”
18
“Oh Miss Joanna!” Chris exclaimed when they returned to the hotel amidst the rest of the wedding guests. “Skiathos has captured you! It wants you to stay. Here, I will put the flowers in water and leave them in your room.”
Joanna handed them to her, blushing. She’d never caught a bouquet before and was still embarrassed by all the attention.
“Come,” Nick said to her. “The party is outside.”
Two women walking beside them spoke softly to one another in Greek. Though Joanna didn’t know what they said, she sensed an element of nostalgia in their voices, but with a tinge of sadness.
Then suddenly the woman on her right shook her head and hissed and they walked away— sighing at each beautiful thing they saw.
Joanna whispered to Nick. “What did they just say? What were they talking about?”
“Are you sure you want to know?”
She nodded that she did.
“They said this place is still so beautiful and that they can’t recall the amount of good times they had at the hotel. But now they are sad because it is to be sold. They think it is a sin that the daughter of George Herod would want to sell.”
“Oh…” Joanna gasped. She felt like she had been slapped in the face.
“Everyone has an opinion,” Nick said. “Of course, I wouldn’t have you sell either, but it is your decision.”
“I know but I didn’t want to upset anyone …”
“Cheer up. They didn’t even know it was you.”
“That doesn’t make it any better,” Joanna said, biting her lip.
The bride and groom were still taking photos when they left the church, but most of the wedding guests were already pouring in.
Wine bottles and glasses were everywhere and everyone was already helping themselves. The sounds of a jazz band softly filled the air, and a few couples were dancing in the back, close to the hill’s drop-off.
The pool, a mere cement hole with water in it the day before, was now adorned with blue, purple, and pink floating glass torches.
Round tables with pink tablecloths stretched almost the entire length of the hotel’s property, giving everyone unbridled views of the evening Aegean sea. Upon each table was ten candle candelabra awaiting to be lit when the sun set.
“Would you like some wine?” Nick asked.
“That’d be lovely.”
He walked away and several small girls came up to Joanna and spoke to her in Greek. They were about five or six years old.
She leaned over and said, “I’m so sorry, I can’t understand you. I don’t speak Greek. Are you maybe upset with me for catching the bouquet? I’m really sorry.”
They looked at her confused and said something to one another. They saw Nick coming and spoke to him in Greek.
He shook his head and then pointed his thumb to the side, telling them to scram. They gave Joanna a dirty look and skipped away.
“I’m an enemy here, aren’t I?” she said as he handed her a glass.
“Some have figured out who you are, but not everyone.”
“They were asking me not to sell, weren’t they?”
He nodded.
Joanna turned back and looked at the hotel. Yes, it needed a lot of work, but she admitted to herself, it was beautiful tonight. With its red tiled roof, stone walls and walkways— it was the epitome of an upscale Mediterranean hideaway. Besides the views, she especially loved the climbing vines and ancient lanterns that hung sporadically around the property. It had a secret garden vibe to it.
“You must understand that your father was a town icon,” Nick said. “In addition to helping out numerous local children in need of direction, he held a lot of parties and festivals here to keep us all united and together. It was never anything lavish, but he was kind of like Gatsby I suppose. He gave everyone a spot to unwind during tourist season and always made sure we knew how to laugh together. A lot of people have family on the mainland, and if any of them needed a place to stay while visiting they came here. This place has always been the heart and soul of the island.”
“I just don’t know how I could realistically keep it without abandoning everything I’ve worked for in New York.”
He nodded, understanding. “Anyway…” He pointed at boats on the horizon. “See those boats out there? My wedding gift for the couple is on them.”
“You going to make them swim out and get it themselves?” she joked.
“Fireworks,” Nick said. “Big ones. I’m not good at shopping for other people, so I found a way to get them something that was really a gift for myself.” He tapped his brain and grinned. “Markos helped me. We had a great time picking them out. They’re from a professional fireworks company in China. We got the salesman to come out this way and got him so drunk he acquiesced and let us preview them. Markos was afraid the coast guard was going to come and get us, but we were too far out in the water.”
