by Holly Greene
She giggled. “Did you take him spearfishing afterwards?”
“No, he confessed to us he was a horrible swimmer and had nightmares about drowning. But he was a lot of fun. Was fluent in Greek, and told the filthiest jokes I’d ever heard. Your father would have loved him.”
Nick really did have a Peter Pan, fox in the henhouse mischievous quality to him. In many ways he reminded her of an overly intelligent, twelve year old— partly because he seemed mostly unaware of his own sexual magnetism. Well, if not unaware, than at least pleasantly preoccupied with other things.
She would never tell him this, but if he had been anyway aggressive with pursuing her, she would likely have acquiesed. She was emotionally vulnerable, and very much attracted to him— a dangerous combination. He was also just so much fun to be with. And she could talk to him and tell that he was listening.
He wasn’t just being polite and performing a role (as she sensed Peter often did when they talked). He actually listened to her.
All of this had added up and scared Joanna to her core on the drive back from the church, while the bouquet rested in her lap.
Skiathos was magnificent and the hotel was tempting too, an alluring change of pace from New York.
It seemed the universe was being quite blunt in its attempt to tempt her with another path.
Or was her brain just frantically looking for a way to keep the vacation dream/illusion alive? She had only a couple of days left, and yet it felt a bit like she only had a few more left to live.
She glanced at Nick beside her as the light turned an orangish pink to the west. He was simply majestically, beautiful. She could already see him as a dear friend and confidante certainly, but she also guessed he could be a wonderful partner— a passionate, soul finding, lover.
One with whom she could already see herself enjoying a very happy life with.
That was crazy, wasn’t it? But it felt right.
This must have been what her mother had felt in the beginning with George, when she had first left Skiathos and gone back to New York.
Her heart was aching the same as her mother’s had when she had written those first two letters.
If only she hadn’t asked Peter to tell her he loved her and agreed to move in with him. He didn’t love her. He only loved the idea of her.
And yet she was guilty of the same. She loved the idea of establishing a ‘grown up’ life with him, and doing what people her age were supposed to do.
Her job? Of course she cared about her job. She had worked hard for it. How many nights had she forfeited sleep so she could meet a deadline? Too many. But they had paid off. People had noticed and liked her work. Now she was the youngest senior editor at Herod Publishing. She had broken through the glass ceiling, and she was still on the rise. Tectonic shifts were taking place in the world, and she was a part of that.
But from this vantage point, here on the island, New York was beginning to feel like an empty existence. Surely God did not intend for people to live that way; constantly seeking, and constantly fighting, all in the vain hope of obtaining a title? A label. A label to be stuck on her by strangers she could care less about. They were all ships passing in the ocean. Every one of them. Never to truly see one another again.
19
Nick looked at her and seemed to sense the turmoil taking place within her. He put his glass down, gently tapped her forehead and said, “Shh. Wherever your thoughts have taken you, come back to here. To right now.”
Then placed his hand around her neck and pulled her into a slow, heartfelt kiss. Their tongues never met, but it was passionate and heart pounding. She never wanted it to end, and yet it did all too soon.
He whispered, “Whatever has filled you with fear, let it go.”
Feeling a little bit breathless, Joanna nodded.
“Come,” he said, and led her to the dance floor before the jazz musicians. They were in between songs, and Nick went up to the singer and said something in her ear. The woman winked at him and nodded. She whispered the next song back to the band.
The drummer through a few beats into the air and the woman began to sing in English a song that Joanna recognised.
“Is this ‘My Blue Heaven’ by Frank Sinatra?” she asked, delighted.
“Yes. And I’m going to give you a gift now I’ve not given anyone before. The gift of my horrible dancing!”
Nick began moving and jiving with the music in complete discord and disharmony to the beats established by the bass player and drummer. He locked his hands together and started doing a weird waving motion that he somehow, only god knew how, mirrored with his knees. He then followed this with a pecking motion in his chin that made him resemble a chicken walking to and fro.
“Nick!” she exclaimed laughing. “What are you doing?”
“I told you,” Nick said. “I’m dancing. Join me!”
She didn’t know how to compliment his particular … style, so instead tried to match the beat of the song.
“No, Joanna. I meant it - join me. Come on!” He kicked his legs out like they were made of rubber, dancing like some sort of cartoon character.
Joanna got a case of the giggles and started mimicking him as silly as she could, jerking her legs and waving her arms.
“Good. She can shoot, and she can dance. I’ve found a winner!” Nick hollered.
“Only a good dancer could dance as poorly as you,” she replied, over the crowd’s laughter.
He winked at her, then turned around to shake his butt, to which all of the older women hackled and screamed in delight.
Not to be outdone by his friend, Markos appeared beside them, and the two Greek men started having the worst dance off Joanna had ever seen.
She laughed so hard that tears streamed down her face and she had to walk away to the side, her cheeks aching from laughing and smiling.
Everyone clapped when the musicians struck and hit the last notes and Joanna couldn't tell if they were clapping for the band or Nick and Markos.
She highly suspected the latter.
20
The wedding couple arrived shortly after Nick and Markos had their dance off and then dinner began.
Nick had his arm resting on the back of Joanna’s chair and the two were listening to the jazz band drift the evening away. Joanna didn't recognize any more of the tunes and Nick informed her that what they were hearing was the band’s own music.
It was slow, but had an ethereal quality to it that was quite alien to Joanna’s ears. At times fast, at others ambling, it was like water drifting down the countryside.
“I talked the groom into hiring them,” Nick told her. “I heard them rehearsing one night a little way inland from my boat. I followed the music until I found their studio, and stayed outside until they came out just to meet them and get their names. They had no idea if what they were doing was going to be liked by the public. I told them, ‘To hell what people think! Keep doing what you’re doing.’ But I also convinced them to learn a few crowd favorites so they could start getting bookings at bars and weddings.”
“Are you their patron?” Joanna asked. It was a bit far fetched, but she’d believe anything about Nick at this point.
“I was for a time,” he admitted. “But they don’t need me anymore. They’re traveling to Athens in a week and will be there playing gigs for a few months.”
Someone tapped his or her wine glass and the crowd hushed across the lawn.
The best man stood up with a wine glass in his hand, and Nick whispered in Joanna’s ear, “We call him the koumbaro. The woman we call the koumbara.”
The man started to speak, and Joanna paid attention as she had at the church, but she had no idea what he was saying.
“Let me translate this one for you,” Nick said: “‘Timeo and I, as you all know, have known each other since we were little boys. When he told me he was marrying Maia, I was not surprised. When we were teenagers, trying to make a few bucks doing odd chores for Mr. Herod, he always use
d the money Mr. Herod gave him to go take Maia out. I remember what Mr. Herod used to pay us for. Refilling the napkin holders in the lobby. Sweeping the already clean sidewalks. And, my favorite, diving into his pool to pick up random leaves that had drifted to the bottom on hot summer days. Everything he paid us for he could have done in thirty seconds on his own. We knew it, and he knew it. Now, as a semi-adult— I don’t think I’ll ever feel grownup— I think I know what he was doing. He wasn’t just giving two miscreant boys something to do. He knew why we wanted the money. Timeo needed the money to take the love of his life out on dates and build the lifelong connection that we are celebrating today… whereas I needed the money to buy twenty year old American Playboy magazines from Darius across the street— is Darius here? Hi Darius. That’s not your wife is it?” The crowd laughed as did Joanna and the best man continued, touched by his these kind words about her father.
“George saw what we were too young to see, as he did with a lot of people in this community. He wasn’t just giving us money; it wasn’t about the money to him. As many of you know, he didn’t care one bit about that. What he was giving us was the life we needed— what he believed we were capable of and what we deserved. Timeo and Maia, I hope you don’t mind, but I believe the toast I’m about to offer goes as much to George tonight as it does to you. You see everyone, his last grand gesture to them was the use of his hotel for this reception. His last grand gift to me was… well, I don’t think I could speak to you about that without breaking down.
“‘Before I finish, I need to talk about all of the celebrations we had here on nights much like this. When I think of my childhood, the first thing I remember are those nights. In church they talk about the holy communion. I know this is a horrible thing to say and that my parents are going to feel ashamed, but I’ve never felt religious ecstasy in church. But what I have felt is overwhelming peace and happiness right here, at this very hotel, eating, drinking, and laughing with every single one of you. That’s no accident. George knew we needed each other, and gave us the space for it.’” Everyone smiled and nodded to one another. “I also know that this is probably the last time we’ll have this. It saddens me to no end to think it, but I am thankful for all of the times we did have, and know that whatever the new owners build here will not, in any way compare to what we have right now together at this very moment… and that, in a strange way, makes me happy.’”
The man held up his glass, attempting to swallow his tears, but failing. “‘To Timeo and Maia, may you capture and sustain the love that we Skiathons as a community have grown here and feel for you… and to Mr. George Herod …’” He looked up at the sky, “‘may the heaven you’ve traveled to be as beautiful as the life you gave the rest of us here.’”
Everyone raised their glasses and drank to the young koumbaro’s toast, while Joanna wiped a tear from her eye, unexpectedly overcome by his words.
Nick waited for the applause to die down then took out his phone and texted someone.
Seconds later, a lone firework rose in the sky and exploded over the nighttime waters. All the children rose up from their parents’ laps and ran to the edge for a better view.
“That couldn’t have been timed any better,” Joanna whispered to Nick, eyes glistening. “Are you going to tell them you did it?”
He shook his head.
“Won’t they think you didn’t get them anything though?”
“I got them some sort of glass bowl set they had on their wedding list. A little mystery in people’s lives is a good thing Joanna. They’ll probably think your father did it for them. And that’s OK because it’s exactly like something George would have done.”
“It seems like all the credit should go to you,” Joanna said, as more fireworks rained down from the sky. For everything, she added silently.
21
“Come,” Nick said then. “Let’s go meet the bride.”
He guided her through the throngs of people to the happy couple who were standing to the side watching the fireworks.
“Maia,” Nick said. “This is Joanna Nelson.”
“Joanna? You are Joanna?” She dislodged herself from her husband and stared intently at Joanna. Then suddenly she embraced her and peppered her cheeks with kisses. “Joanna! My cousin! My American cousin!”
Once again Nick had surprised her.
“What? I have family?” Joanna asked, open mouthed..
“Yes. She is your father’s sister’s daughter. Her mother, Alissa, who is just over there, is your aunt.”
Joanna grinned, amazed. “Why didn’t you tell me I still have family?”
“They were busy with wedding preparations,” he shrugged. “And… I wanted you all to myself.”
I have family … This time, it was Joanna who kissed a stranger on both sides of the cheeks, fulling understanding the impulse to do so now.
Maia cried out in jubilation with her. “We are going to be like sisters, you and I!” her cousin said.
At that moment, Joanna felt like she truly was on the most beautiful place on the planet, and couldn’t imagine being anywhere else ever again.
Much later, Nick kissed Joanna goodnight— not on the cheeks but on the lips. It was on the tip of her tongue to invite him in but they both seemed to know it was a bad idea.
“Tomorrow will you go out to lunch with me?” Nick asked. “I’ll take you for some real lunch. Treat you to a full day in Skiathos before you fly back on Tuesday. Everything will be my treat.”
Joanna’s heart sank again at the mere thought of leaving Skiathos.
Her newly discovered family.
Nick…
“That would be lovely,” she managed to say.
“Goodnight, Joanna,” Nick said and bowed his head.
Peter called her as she was sitting on the balcony, gazing at the moon’s reflection on the waters but she let the call go straight to messages.
She didn’t want to talk and she didn't want to sleep either. Sleeping meant this wonderful day was over, and that she only had a few more left on the island.
“Joanna,” Peter boomed in the message. “Oh have I got some good news for you. I spoke to the northeast vice-president of the Hilton Group about your hotel, had to pull a lot of strings, but I managed it. He made a few calls, and Hilton, I repeat Hilton are interested in buying your property. I can’t— I can’t even put into words how good this is for us. Hilton, Joanna! We are going to be so rich.”
22
“So,” Nick said to her the following day with his hands in his pockets. “I’ve kept another secret from you.”
“Why am I not surprised?” she replied.
They were in the town of Skiathos. Numerous business owners were outside sprucing up signs and removing 2X4s from their windows. Tourist season was now upon them and they had to get ready. Now that the wedding had come and gone, it was time for everyone to get to work.
“You asked me how your father and mother got together. I’m not sure about that but I do I know what drove them apart.”
Joanna nodded. She had begun to expect as much, hearing about all of the adventures he and her father had had, and how close he and Nick were.
“At your mother’s request, George never sold the hotel. She always promised him that she was going to leave her job and move to Skiathos and marry him. She wanted him to have the hotel so they wouldn’t have to work. They could live their lives everyday as if it were a holiday. He, on the other hand, wanted to sell. He wanted to move to New York so he could be with her. But she kept getting promoted, and making more and more money, and delaying, month after month after month. She couldn’t walk away from her job, and George felt like he was in a constant loop of hope, desperation, and disappointment.”
“He cheated on her?” Joanna asked, believing she knew where the story was going.
“No,” Nick said. “He never cheated on her. He loved her completely. But,” Nick held his finger up in the air, “She thought he did.”
Th
ey walked to the end of a street and turned left so they could be beside the main road that traveled parallel to the water. It was a tiny street barely big enough for one car to squeeze through, and yet there were numerous cars parked along the path close to the houses.
“Why would she think he did if he didn’t?” Joanna asked, confused.
“There was a woman,” Nick replied, “who was desperately in love with him. She was actually at the wedding last night, but she sat alone. I watched her. Charissa is her name. She ate nothing and said nothing. As they say, eternal life to those who are bitter and angry. But anyway. A native Skiathan, she hated that he was in love with a xénos, a foreigner. As much as she loved and adored George, she equally hated the idea of him leaving Greece. She found out when your mother was returning to the island, and made a point to follow them that evening. While they were walking down the street we are now, Charissa called out to George in an angry voice. Spoke to him as if he were her lover. Acted infuriated that he was with Ruth and not her. Told him he needed to help with their child or else she was going to sue him. It was all a lie, and your poor mother, she believed every word of it. She ran away from him crying, and hopped into a taxi. He thought she went back to the hotel, and so he made his way back there, hoping to find her in her room. But she didn’t go back. He scoured the whole island, calling out for her. But he couldn’t find her anywhere. No one had seen her. She had disappeared, though, and left all of her things back in the hotel. She never returned for any of them. If you look, I believe you’ll find all of her things still in his closet.”
They walked to the end of a long pier that went far out into the water. Waves lapped and rolled beneath them to the coast in an ever constant rhythm.
“She said she made a mistake one night,” Joanna said, repeating her mother’s line again. “I thought she meant that my conception was a mistake.”
