Souls Entwined

by Anne B. Cole

  “I bought a new ship,” Peter exclaimed, no longer able to contain his excitement. “She’s a bit smaller, but quick and beautiful.” Anya was grateful that the attention had shifted to Peter and was not on the single tear that trailed down her cheek. “It’s in the harbor next to the Warren.”

  “Like an ant by an elephant,” Lorenzo added with a grin.

  Peter ignored Lorenzo’s teasing. “Anya, I would be honored to take you sailing tomorrow.”

  The offer touched her. She had not sailed since her father’s death. Wiping her cheek inconspicuously, she tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “I would love to come, but I need to stay with Mama.”

  “Alec will be here,” Yia Yia interrupted. “Henry and I will be on board.”

  Anya stared at her grandmother, shocked by her desire to see a ship. She had never known Yia Yia to sail. Peter was grinning, so was Lorenzo. Plans had already been made.

  “Thank you, Peter, I accept.”

  “We depart at eleven,” Peter declared triumphantly, standing to leave.

  “Peter, it may be wise to stay here tonight,” Lorenzo suggested.

  Peter squinted at him in surprise. “My ship is anchored beside the Warren. No one would dare touch her.”

  “True,” Lorenzo agreed with pride. “It’s getting to your ship that concerns me.” He leaned closer to Peter. “I ran into an old friend today.”

  Peter clutched his vest pocket. Satisfied with its contents, he sat back in his chair. “Spoke to him?” he inquired with a nervous twitch.

  “Claims he commandeered his ship,” Lorenzo declared.

  Anya felt his grip on her hand tighten. Peter’s eyes shifted from Lorenzo to the floor and back.

  “Came here and stole two bottles of rum. He did not find what he was after.” Lorenzo paused as Peter poured himself another drink and nervously scanned the room. “It’s not worth another life, Peter. He won’t stop until he has it.”

  Henry and Yia Yia exchanged glances.

  “Lubber doesn’t know my new ship. We will be safe,” Peter announced without reservation.

  “You’re welcome to stay with me tonight,” Henry offered.

  Peter began to decline when Lorenzo announced, “Another man, a stranger, followed us through the market. Dark hair, lean, well dressed, possibly Italian. He didn’t approach but was definitely following us. When we caught up with some sailors, he acknowledged me and left.”

  “Italian?” Peter questioned.

  “Aye. Perhaps one of Lubber’s mates?” Lorenzo asked apprehensively.

  “Lubber buys slaves for his crew—young, big, or stupid ones.” Peter appeared thoughtful for a moment. “Steal rum from another?”

  Lorenzo laughed, placing an arm around Anya. “Everything I need is right here. My filching days are over.”

  As Anya pressed closer to him, her hand grazed over the lump in her apron pocket. A cold shiver ran down her spine. Alec entered the store from the back room, making his way to the table. He faced Lorenzo. “Tatiana would like a word with you.”

  Lorenzo let go of Anya’s hand. Instantly she longed for his return. He stood and shook Peter’s hand. “Be safe, my friend. I’ll meet you at the harbor in the morning.” Lorenzo nodded in Yia Yia and Henry’s direction.

  Anya stuffed her hands into her apron pockets, rubbing the soft pouch between her fingers. Lorenzo closed the door quietly behind him.

  “Alec, I need some supplies,” Peter bellowed, breaking the awkward silence.

  “Anya.” Yia Yia touched her shoulder. “I need my good dress ready for tomorrow. Heat the iron.”

  Thankful for an excuse to get some fresh air, Anya walked to the house and retrieved the dress and iron. Upon returning, she stood by the fire, staring at the glowing coals.

  The floor creaked. Anya spun around to see Lorenzo opening the door. He stared at her with eyes full of sorrow. She wondered if her mother told him about her vision. Perhaps she revealed her illness. Alec approached him.

  “Sir,” Lorenzo’s voice wavered. Alec shook Lorenzo’s hand, without uttering a word.

  “Mama?” Anya ran over, but Alec closed the door gently behind himself.

  “Tatiana’s fine. I believe her fever has broken.” Lorenzo turned to the others who were intently watching. He nodded to them. “Tomorrow. I’ll see you all then.”

  “I’m staying with Henry. Good night,” Peter replied.

  Henry, Katarina, and Peter exited the store, leaving Lorenzo and Anya alone.

  “Long day.” Lorenzo brought her hand to his lips.

  “Yes.” Anya’s response was weak, barely audible. Lorenzo’s smile faded when his fingers brushed hair away from her sweaty face.

  “You’re feverish.” Lorenzo guided her onto his knee, taking the nearest chair.

  “I’m fine.”

  He scrutinized her face then placed both of his hands on her cheeks, staring into her eyes. Anya lowered her gaze, not wanting him to see her fear. Her mind jumped from thoughts of Mama to Lorenzo and then to the ring.

  Lorenzo tilted her face to his. “Anya.”

  She pressed a finger against his lips. “No talk.” She kissed him tenderly. His lips eagerly returned. Anya let go of her fears, surrendering to the safety of Lorenzo’s warm embrace.

  Chapter 18

  The Perfect Day

  Anya anguished throughout the night, falling asleep just before dawn. Mama’s cool lips grazed her cheek. Lorenzo was right; her fever had broken. As she stood and slipped her everyday dress over her head, sunlight poured into her room.

  “Which shall I wear?” Mama held one dress up to her neck and then another. Anya gaped in bewilderment. “Alec and I are joining you on Peter’s ship. It’s a perfect day to sail.” A gentle breeze floated through the window, carrying the scent of blooming olive trees.

  “The ivory one,” Anya whispered.

  Her mother’s face radiated with happiness, but Anya cried inside.

  Mama left the room, returning a minute later with two beautiful shawls. She placed one against the ivory dress. It complimented it perfectly with several shades of green woven together in an intricate pattern against a background of ivory, tan, and gold tones.

  “They arrived last week. Alec insisted.” Mama blushed, splashing her gaunt white cheeks with a little color.

  “It’s lovely.” Anya wrapped it around the dress. Tatiana held the other out. It was predominantly blue, blending dark and medium hues with green and purple shades reminiscent of the sea on a summer evening.

  “Alec bought this one, for you.” Mama held it up.

  Anya could not find the words to express how she felt. The expense for Mama, she understood. Mama draped it over Anya’s shoulders, twirling her around to admire. Anya could not believe the change in her from last night. Mama sat on the bed, patting a spot next to her. “He loves you very much.”

  Anya rubbed the lovely shawl. It was softer than anything she had ever touched. Alec had always been there for her family. She could not imagine what her life would have been like without him.

  “I love Alec, too.”

  Mama tilted her head and smiled. “I was not speaking of Alec.” Anya’s heart skipped a beat. Joy and sadness played tug of war within. “Do you love Lorenzo?”

  “More than I ever thought possible,” Anya admitted.

  Mama nodded then began to cough. After the episode had passed, Anya tucked her into her own bed and draped the green shawl over her. She picked up the ivory dress then shuffled to the door. “Mama, what if—” She turned around and saw that Mama was already asleep. Anya closed the door behind her, taking her unanswered question with her.

  It felt a bit chilly outside but would soon warm, a perfect day to sail. Through the store window, she heard Alec
whistling an old Greek tune. “Good morning, Alec.” Anya tried her best to sound cheerful as she walked in.

  “Finally up, I see.” Alec’s grin widened when his eyes fell to the dress Anya carried. His head abruptly turned to the round of cheese he held. Shifting it from one hand to another, he placed the cheese into a basket with what smelled like fresh loaves of bread. He glanced at the door then closed the basket.

  “Mama is resting in my bed.” Anya knew Alec would be concerned if he found her room empty.

  Pain-filled eyes met hers. “I’m sorry. I should have told you right away, but Tatiana didn’t want to worry you. I told her that you’re strong, strong like your father. I knew you would be brave, much more so than I.” Alec’s hand touched her cheek.

  Brave? Anya wanted to run like a coward. She felt a sudden urge to get away, far away to escape the fear, the impending pain.

  Alec’s thumb traced her cheek as he took a deep breath. “I don’t think it’s wise for your mother to go today, but I’m unable to say no to her. When I told her about Peter’s outing, it was the first time I saw her smile since she became sick. We must enjoy the time we have.”

  Anya bit her lip to keep from crying. Without stepping away, Alec picked up a bottle of laudanum and tucked it into the basket. “Your mother, she’s a stubborn one. Told me she would shoot me if I fussed over her today.” The warmth of Alec’s hand rested on her shoulder. “Today is not for tears. Your Mama wants to see you happy. It will be a fine day. I promise.” He wiped Anya’s cheek with his thumb. “Lorenzo left early with Henry and Peter to ready the ship. Will you be all right here?”

  Anya could see his need to be with Mama. “Yes, thank you.”

  “That’s my Anya.” He left, whistling the same tune as before.

  Anya heated the iron and began pressing the bodice, taking her time to make sure every wrinkle was gone.

  “Is that what you’ll be wearing?” Yia Yia’s critical tone crackled through the air.

  “This is Mama’s dress,” Anya responded quietly, as she scanned for creases.

  “I may be old, but I still have my eyesight, child. Is that what you’re wearing?” She scowled, pointing at her.

  Embarrassment warmed Anya’s cheeks. “I’ll wear my good dress and a shawl Alec gave me.” Before her grandmother could respond, she ran out the door and around to the house, carrying her mother’s dress. Anya paused at her room; the door was closed. She heard low voices, so she knocked.

  “Come in,” Mama’s voice sounded. Anya entered and saw Alec sitting on the bed close to her. She felt as if she was intruding and quickly placed the dress on the end of the bed and picked up the blue shawl.

  “It’s beautiful. Thank you, Alec.” Anya hurried over to the wardrobe and took out her dress.

  “Peter moved our meeting time up.” Alec took Mama’s hand then winked at Anya. “Get ready. I’ll help your mother.”

  Mama blushed. “Anya, take my white shoes. I cannot stand the way they pinch my feet. They will look lovely on you.”

  Anya retrieved the shoes from her mother’s room then paused as she passed her bedroom door. She heard cheerful voices within but wondered how that could be possible. Anya bit her lip and headed to the store. This time she tasted blood.

  Yia Yia’s eyes narrowed in disapproval. “That?”

  Anya let out a discouraged breath. Yia Yia had to know it was her only good dress. “Isn’t the shawl beautiful?”

  Her grandmother grumbled then reached into her pocket, taking out a pair of old lace gloves. “Wear these. They match your mother’s shoes.”

  Anya eagerly accepted the dainty pair, trying one on. Yia Yia ironed the dress as Anya polished the shoes. When they finished, she eased the warm cotton dress over her head. Yia Yia twisted Anya’s hair up into a neat knot before kissing the top of her head. Anya picked up her apron and everyday dress to take back to the house when she felt the ring. She took out the pouch and stuffed it into her pocket, hoping Yia Yia didn’t see her.

  Alec and Mama entered the store, beaming. Together, the four walked to the harbor. Henry stood on the shore beside a dinghy in his Sunday best.

  “Lovely day. Katarina, you are breathtaking.” Henry bowed slightly then helped her into the boat. Alec seated Mama beside him with a strong arm around her waist. “Anya.” Henry’s mouth turned up into the biggest smile she had ever seen. He kissed her hand then let it go. “My dear, you’ll have to wait.” He stepped into the boat and pushed off. Alec began to stand, but Mama tugged on his arm.

  Anya was frozen in place. Henry sat down and began to row away. Her heart pounded as she heard sounds behind her in the distance. Henry was leaving her alone at the harbor, and all of them were allowing him to do so. The sounds behind her grew louder: footsteps, then voices. Visions of Lubber and the man with the dark curly hair filled her head. Suddenly, there was silence. Anya spun around, ready to run.

  Lorenzo knelt on the ground before her with one hand held out. Anya grabbed it and dropped to her knees. “The man? Is he after us?” She scanned the shore. A small crowd of people had gathered. Anya didn’t see the stranger or Lubber, just people from the village.

  “Anya, you’re supposed to be standing for this.” His voice was barely above a whisper as he guided her to her feet and then brushed sand off her dress. The crowd laughed then silenced as he took her hand and went back down on one knee. That was when it hit her, like a bolt of lightning.

  His blue eyes twinkled as he pressed his lips firmly together then spoke in Greek. “Anya, my beautiful, Anya. Will you,” he paused. Anya’s entire body tingled as if a thousand tiny arrows pierced her skin at once. “Will you marry me?”

  It all made sense—her mother’s happiness, Yia Yia’s disapproval of her dress, Alec’s promise of a fine day, and Henry’s grin. All of them knew. Everything she learned yesterday didn’t matter. Lorenzo, the man she loved with all her heart, was asking her to become his wife.

  “Anya?” Lorenzo’s voice wavered slightly.

  She realized she had not answered. “Yes?” It came out like a question.

  Lorenzo took a deep breath and started speaking in English. “Anya, I love you more than anything in this world. Will you—?”

  “Yes!” Anya fell down to her knees and kissed him. Cheers rose up behind them. Lorenzo gathered her into his arms, kissing her tenderly before swiftly picking her up and placing her in the stern of a small rowboat. The villagers pushed them off as Lorenzo grabbed the oars. Anya waved goodbye to those gathered as the boat headed toward Peter’s ship.

  “They all knew. How did you keep them quiet?”

  “It wasn’t easy,” Lorenzo grinned as he pulled on the oars. When they were halfway to the ship, he placed both oars in the boat.

  “Your shoulder?” Anya asked, worried he was in pain.

  “Shoulder’s fine.” He studied her and took her hand. “When would you like to get married?”

  Anya’s heart jumped into her throat as her mind raced back to last night. Fear returned. “I . . . Mama . . . she . . .”

  “Tatiana has her opinion on when we should marry.” He paused, searching her face. “I would like yours.”

  “Before you leave me.” She held her breath. Is that too soon? What does Lorenzo want? She wished she could take it back and rethink. Anya clutched the ring in her pocket.

  “Today’s a beautiful day.” Lorenzo took her hands and held them tight. “A perfect day for a wedding.”

  “Today?” Anya’s eyes widened. “Mama—”

  “Your Mama suggested it.” Lorenzo’s eyes twinkled. Anya gasped twice before a tear escaped. He kissed her cheek, brushing away the drop with his thumb. He then grabbed the oars and rowed swiftly. Mama, Alec, Yia Yia, and Henry stood at the rail. Lorenzo waved to them.

  Peter raised both hands into
the air. “She said, ‘yes!’”

  They quickly covered the distance to the ship. Henry tossed a rope. Lorenzo lifted Anya into the arms of Peter, who twirled her around on deck.

  “Yia Yia, where is Mama?” Anya asked, noticing her absence.

  “Downstairs resting.” Yia Yia sidled next to Henry, who sat on a crate, taking out his violin from its black case. His gnarled fingers magically tweaked and tuned the instrument. Henry touched the bow to the strings, filling the air with a lovely sonata. Yia Yia tapped her hands lightly on her knees in rhythm.

  “Enzo, raise anchor.” Peter hoisted a sail and tied it off.

  “Aye.” Lorenzo took Anya to the side, placing her hands on the rail. “Hold tight. Peter likes to show off.”

  Henry continued to play as they set sail. Once they were out of the harbor, the ship took off with the wind. Peter sailed north then eastward along the coast of Milos, heading past Kimolos. It was a magnificent ship—strong, smooth, and quick.

  Peter bellowed order after order. After several odd requests, Lorenzo retrieved two buckets. He attached a rope to each then tossed them over, one at a time, filling them with water. He carried the water downstairs and returned. Over and over, the buckets were filled. A dozen trips later, Anya waited for him at the top of the stairs.

  As Lorenzo whistled Henry’s tune, he stopped shy of the deck and motioned for Anya to come down a few steps. He put a finger to his lips, cautioning her to do so quietly. When she reached him, he grabbed her by the waist. “You have made me the happiest man alive.” A giggle escaped her lips as he squeezed her tight.

  “Where are we going?” She placed her head on his chest then touched the buttons of his shirt absently. Two came undone.

  “We’re nearly there,” he answered. Anya’s fingers slipped across the beads of sweat on his chest, drawing small invisible circles over and over. He sighed, kissing the top of her head. “I must finish.” Lorenzo brushed windblown hair from her face before picking up the empty buckets.