Moti on the Water

by Leylah Attar

  “Oh?”

  “He hasn’t asked the maid of honor to dance.” He held out his hand. “Would she do me the honor?”

  I smiled. “She would.”

  We’d barely joined Isabelle and Thomas on the dance floor when Nikos froze.

  “You okay?” Thomas reached out to his friend.

  Nikos gawked, his eyes fixed on something beyond Thomas’s shoulder.

  I swung around to see what had captured his attention.

  Hannah.

  She looked stunning in a fitted black dress, but it was the power-wattage of her smile that lit her up as she greeted Nikos, who continued staring at her.

  “Thomas invited me,” she said. “Mom’s here, too.” Captain Bailey waved as Hannah pointed her out.

  “You mean she’s okay? With this?” Nikos gestured between himself and Hannah.

  “Don’t know.” Hannah shrugged, grinning. “But she came, so…”

  “Well, let’s go say hello. Excuse us. Moti? I promise to make it up to you.”

  I laughed. “Please, not another beach picnic. Go, good luck.”

  I danced with Isabelle and Thomas in a circle of well-wishers—twisting, turning, holding hands with people I’d never met before. Stars and string lights twinkled as the night bound us in a sparkling feeling of togetherness. It was bright and brilliant—an echo of another night among spinning strangers in Folegandros, when my eyes had played hide and seek with Alex.

  I dropped out of the circle and lined up at the henna station.

  “What kind of design would you like?” the lady asked.

  “A star, on my wrist, please. But can you make it look like the letter A?” It was customary for the bride to hide her groom’s initial in the intricate pattern of her henna. Dolly and Rachel Auntie told us if the groom didn’t find it on the wedding night, he’d be dominated by his wife for the rest of their marriage. Isabelle and I smirked every time we heard the story. We knew it really meant no sex for him that night.

  I waited for my henna-tattooed star to dry in a quiet corner of the deck. Bits of conversation drifted my way.

  George stood by the bar, talking to Joseph Uncle. The ring-tube of underwear Joseph Uncle had intended for Isabelle and Thomas (the one he told her to get rid of after his gift-giving fiasco with her in-laws), hung like a wreath between them. Isabelle asked for it to be displayed at the reception. Joseph Uncle’s chest swelled the moment he saw it.

  “I think I can make it work,” George said. “How soon can we set it up?”

  “Give me a couple of weeks. I’ll send you the catalog as soon I get back. Pick the ones you want and—”

  “What do I know about underwear? Just ship me some of your best sellers. The movers and shakers, you know?” George wiggled his hips.

  Oh God. Thomas’s father is getting into the underwear business with Joseph Uncle.

  “With my contacts and your experience, we’ll conquer the islands.” George held up his glass.

  “To thongs and bikinis,” Joseph Uncle said, as they clinked their drinks.

  Um, my cue to exit.

  I took the stairs leading down to the water. Leaving my shoes on the last step, I strolled down the narrow beach. The sand was damp and cool under my feet, the air crisp as it came in from the sea.

  Something flashed in my face as I watched silver-tipped waves shimmer under the night sky. It disappeared when I turned toward it. My eyes went back to the water and the fleet of lights gliding over the horizon—a ferry leaving the port. Maybe Alex was on it. Maybe he’d left already.

  It happened again—a soft glare on my face that disappeared before I could figure out where it came from. A passing boat? A strobe over the dance floor?

  I turned my attention to the star on my wrist. It didn’t look much like an A, but each of its five points stood for a month. Five months before I saw Alex again. We were going to make it work. And what better place to meet up at than the CIA? The Culinary Institute of America’s New York Campus. I smiled, thinking about how I was leaving Greece with so much more than I’d arrived with—so different from what I’d expected, and yet infinitely better.

  When the annoying glint flashed over my eyes again, I swung around to catch it. Every muscle in my body stilled. Then, a grin stretched across my face, so wide that I could feel it in my cheeks.

  Alex. He stood by the stairs, angling a CD so the light reflected onto my face. I flew into his arms with a delighted whoop.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to say goodbye.” He scooped me up, his arms encircling my waist.

  “We already said goodbye.” I laughed as he nuzzled my neck.

  “Isabelle invited me.” His breath stirred goose bumps on my skin. “Plus, I wanted to give you something.” He lay the CD down on the stairs and picked up a white cardboard box that was propped up next to my shoes.

  “What is it?” I asked. It looked like a small takeout container.

  “A final treat before I leave.”

  Music stopped blaring from the speakers. There was loud cheering, followed by a slow, smooth ballad.

  “It’s Isabelle and Thomas’s last dance,” I said.

  The air between us grew tight. Alex lay the box back down on the steps and took me in his arms. It was our last dance too.

  Our eyes held as we shuffled to the tune, the sand gritty between my toes. No fancy moves, no spins or turns—just Alex’s lips brushing against my forehead, my chin on his shoulder, the swaying of our feet.

  “Hey.” Alex cupped my jaw, his thumb caressing my cheek. “It’s a crime to be sad on a beautiful night like this.”

  “Not sad,” I said. “Just quietly drinking you in. The night. The stars. The way you smell. The way you feel.”

  Left. Right. Left. Right. In time with the crashing and receding of the waves.

  “Did anyone tell you how beautiful you look tonight?”

  “You like me in a salwar khameez?” I wore the traditional combo of a long tunic and closely fitted pants, both in a deep shade of sapphire. My dupatta cascaded off one shoulder, the silver embroidery glittering against the blue.

  The music stopped, but we ignored the clapping, the muffled voices, the creaking of the planks above us.

  “I’m a terrible maid of honor for sneaking off,” I said.

  “You should be fired.”

  We laughed and continued swaying.

  “I don’t want tonight to end.” I wrapped my arms around his neck.

  “It doesn’t have to.” His lips stopped a hair’s breadth from mine. “Change your mind.” A soft kiss. “Come with me.” Another brush of his lips.

  “I thought we decided to take this slow.”

  “You decided. I just want to throw you over my shoulder and take you home.”

  “Five months.” I chuckled as his teeth tugged at my ear lobe like they wanted to drag me away. “I’ll see you in five months. You’re going to be away for three of them anyway.”

  “I’m not away now.” His lips parted mine in a slow, drugging kiss.

  My mouth was still burning when he pulled away.

  “I have to get going, Heart-Eyes.”

  I nodded, the lump in my throat getting bigger as he straightened my duppata.

  “See me off?” He grabbed the backpack he’d left lying on the sand and reclaimed the box from the steps.

  I put on my shoes and followed him up the stairs to the street level. The music had stopped, but the guests lingered on the terrace in the back. The street was quiet, the cobblestones reflecting the golden glow of streetlamps.

  “Don’t wait too long to open this.” Alex handed me the takeout container.

  “Okay.” I kept my eyes on it. “Alex, I—”

  “No. Don’t say it. You just…” He swallowed and took a step back. “You just stand there and make heart-eyes at me, okay?”

  I squeezed my eyes shut and nodded. When I opened them again, he was walking down the street, his backpack bouncing with
each step. He stopped a few streetlamps away and turned around.

  “What?” I called out.

  “Just checking,” he said.

  I laughed in spite of the distance growing between us. Of course, I was still making heart-eyes, eating up the way the light fell on his hair, the outline of his shoulders, his long, easy strides. I watched him get smaller and smaller, until he was almost beyond the curve of the hill. He turned around again and waved, walking backward, step by step, until he disappeared from view.

  For a moment, the whole island went quiet. The night was emptier, and the air rushed away from me toward the shadows that Alex had melted into.

  “Go.” Someone slid something cool and solid into my hand. It was the handle to my suitcase.

  I turned to find Dolly by my side.

  “Go, beta,” she said. “If you leave now, you can still catch him.”

  I stared at her. “Wha—”

  “I haven’t always been a good mother, have I? I built a wall and kept you on the other side. It’s not that I didn’t love you. I just never loved myself enough to let anyone in. But you… You always tried to break through, always tried to meet every expectation. You offered up your love, but it only reminded me of the choices I made.

  “I did exactly what was expected of me, too. I walked the path my father laid out for me, even though it meant denying my truth. I was suffering, and I pulled you into the same cycle with me. It’s time to break free, beta.” She nudged the suitcase toward me. “Ja. Do it for both of us.”

  “But—”

  “No buts. I asked Isabelle to invite Alex tonight. My God, the way he was watching over you while you slept. Like nothing else existed. We were all scared to cross him. Maineh phaisala karliya. I’ve decided. He is the one for you.”

  “He is?”

  “Haan. Like I’d let you marry anyone else.”

  “But you always said it has to be someone with three thumbs.”

  “Of course it has to be someone with three thumbs. I’ll die if you marry anyone else, or have you forgotten that part? But Alex already has three thumbs, na?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Look.” She pointed behind us.

  Naani was standing there, giving me a thumbs-up. “One,” she said.

  Beside her was Rachel Auntie, doing the same. “Two.”

  “Three.” Dolly raised her own and stood beside them, all three thumbs in a row.

  Three soul sisters passing on the baton, cheering me to take it and run as fast as I could toward my own happiness.

  I looked toward the harbor. “I don’t know if I’ll make it in time.”

  “Over there.” Rachel Auntie pointed to the bridal horse. “Quickly now.”

  The horse’s handler, who had dozed off under the tree, opened his eyes as if alerted by a sixth sense. He blinked, unaccustomed to three generations of women stampeding toward him.

  “I need your horse.” I threw the strap of my evening bag across my body. “I have to get to the port.”

  “No, no.” He grabbed the reins. “This horse must wait here for the bride.”

  “Listen, young man.” Naani wagged her finger at him as Rachel Auntie and Dolly leveraged my butt, hoisting me onto the saddle. “This is an emergency.”

  “Emergency?”

  “Yes,” Dolly said. “My daughter has a man to catch. Now you either cooperate or you’ll have to answer to the mother of the bride.”

  She shoved Rachel Auntie before him. He didn’t look too convinced, so she added, “The father of the bride too. And wait until the bride and groom hear about this.”

  “Okay, okay.” He conceded. “But I have to go too, so I can bring the horse back.”

  “Well, go then.” Dolly handed him my suitcase.

  “Hurry,” Naani said, as he led the horse down the street.

  “Can’t you go any faster?” Rachel Auntie called after.

  “This is a show horse,” the man said. “Not a racehorse. We’ll get there. Siga-siga.”

  I turned around when we got to the end of the street. Dolly, Naani, and Rachel Auntie stood like three colorful flags waving at me from the top of the hill.

  I raised my hand in return and caught sight of the small white box trailing alongside my duppata. I’d secured Alex’s takeout container to the end of my shawl before mounting the horse. Untying the knot, I opened the cardboard box, expecting to be wowed by one of his special midnight snacks.

  Just like all the other times, I found a note, but this time, no snack. I unfolded the paper, holding it up to the streetlamps so I could read.

  You said no to potatoes and pasta and bread, but you changed your mind about those.

  I’m hoping you’ll change your mind about this too.

  I frowned. Nothing else was in the box.

  No. Wait.

  I fished out a ticket for the ferry he was taking out of Hydra. I glanced at the departure time and then at my watch.

  “Excuse me, can we go a little faster?” I asked.

  “Almost there. You enjoy the ride.” He pushed a button and bright lights started blinking around us. His horse wasn’t just a bridal horse. It doubled as a carnival of moving lights.

  Neon hues bounced off the white-washed homes as we clip-clopped along the street. I glanced at my watch again.

  Come on. Come on. I’m going to miss him.

  The prolonged blast of a ferry horn spurred me into action. “I’m sorry.” I grabbed the reins from the horse handler and gave the horse a little bump with my legs. “I have to go.”

  “Hey, stop!”

  I shot him a contrite look as the horse sped up. “Sorry!”

  In my head it was a graceful gallop, the mad dash, the romantic airport scene where the main character is jumping over all the barriers to intercept her love. In reality, it was a bouncy, jarring trot that rattled my bones. I held on for dear life as we approached the terminal.

  One of the ferries was sliding out of the dock.

  No. No. No. Nooo.

  “Wait!” I pulled up, my heart jumping in my chest. “Come back.” I waved my arms, trying to catch someone’s attention.

  I glanced at the clock over the ticket office and then back at the ferry.

  Dammit. I just missed him.

  Slumping in the saddle, I unclenched my fist and let my crumpled ticket slip away from my hands. The horse shifted under me as I fished my phone out of my evening bag.

  Alex, I messaged.

  Nothing. I connected to the terminal’s Wi-Fi and tried again.

  Alex.

  I slid awkwardly off the horse and patted him.

  My screen lit up: I’m listening…

  My heart somersaulted with delight.

  I stole something, I typed.

  Heart-Eyes. Nooo. What?

  Look toward the terminal.

  My phone was quiet for a few ticks, and then it pinged again.

  Is that you? You stole a mini disco?

  It’s a horse. I chased you down on a freaking horse. I just missed you.

  LMAO. Only you.

  “There she is.” I swung around at the sound of the horse handler’s voice. He was leading a small crowd toward me.

  I love you, Alex wrote.

  I bombarded him with heart-eye emojis. Gotta go. I’m about to be lynched by a mob.

  I saw Isabelle, Thomas, George, and Kassia trailing behind the man.

  My people, I thought. Dolly, Rachel Auntie, Naani, Joseph Uncle and the rest of the wedding party came into view. I’ll live to see another day.

  I handed the horse back to his owner and reclaimed my suitcase. “I’m so sorry for taking off like that.”

  “You missed the ferry?” Isabelle asked.

  “I feel horrible for pulling you away from your reception.”

  “You didn’t. We were on our way to the hotel. This…” She pointed toward the receding lights of the ferry. “You and Alex would’ve been the perfect ending to our day.”

>   “What now?” Dolly asked.

  I shrugged. “It’s fine. I’ll see him in a few months.”

  We faced the water together, our faces glowing with fluorescent hues from the disco horse, now being led away.

  “Ah, well.” Joseph Uncle put his arm around me. “It was a valiant effort, kiddo.”

  We turned away from the harbor, breaking into little groups. Isabelle and Thomas held hands as they led us back to the hotel. PPP steadied Naani as she zigzagged her way out of the terminal. I walked next to Dolly, a sense of ease settling between us. We weren’t exactly strolling arm-in-arm, but a new equilibrium was in place.

  My phone pinged.

  Hey, Alex typed. Where are you going? Next ferry is in an hour.

  I looked back at the ferry gliding over the horizon. Alex was probably still tracking the horse’s lights across the harbor.

  I laughed. “Guys. That wasn’t the last ferry out of here.”

  “I love this part,” said Fia. “You know…” She held out her hands like she was unrolling a banner. “But wait, there’s more.”

  I grinned as everyone paused, their eyes on me. It wasn’t just me reaching out for something bright and shiny. It was all of us, grabbing on to the skirt tails of life.

  “Go get him, Moti.” I didn’t know who said it first, but then everyone was cheering me on as I ran toward the ticket office, the wheels of my suitcase hitting every bump and ridge along the way. The empty box still tied to the corner of my duppatta bounced against my leg as I raced up the window.

  “One ticket,” I said. “To wherever that ferry is going.”

  My phone pinged with another message from Alex.

  You’re still going the wrong way.

  You’re still following the horse I hijacked? I’m at the ticket office.

  That’s my girl. You just saved me from hijacking this ferry.

  I grinned and accepted my ticket. It felt like the beginning of a new adventure.

  In the distance, the colorful caravan of the wedding party wound its way back to the hotel. On the horizon, little lights shimmered over the water.

  Alex, I typed, filled with a warm glow.

  I’m listening…

  I found a bench and sat, smiling at the screen, knowing he was doing the same.

  The notebook had a battered black hardcover and a red spine. Its original stitching barely held the dry, brittle pages together.