The Lady of Tarpon Springs

by Judith Miller

  “That’s all you’re going to eat after I prepare one of your favorite dishes?” Her grandmother’s tone was a blend of sorrow and admonishment.

  Zanna forked a bite of the eggplant and lamb mixture and swallowed. “It’s delicious, Yayá, but I’m not very hungry. I’ve had an exciting day. My stomach feels like it’s tied in knots. If I eat too much, I don’t think it will settle well.”

  “What are you saying? You think Yayá is a bad cook?”

  “No, of course not. You’re a wonderful cook.” Zanna touched her hand to her stomach. “I have butterflies. Understand?”

  “Instead of my moussaka, you want butterflies?” Her grandmother touched her finger to her temple. “You are going mad?”

  Zanna closed her eyes for a second. “No.” Deciding it was going to take far too long to explain, Zanna translated her comment into Greek. “You understand now?”

  Her grandmother shrugged. “I still think you should eat more moussaka.”

  “Let her be, Mama,” her father said, obviously weary of the conversation. He pinned Zanna with an inquisitive look. “So what is it that has caused you all these butterflies in your stomach? Have you been thinking about marriage?”

  “No, but I have been thinking a lot about fifty Greek men.”

  “What’s that you’re saying about fifty men?” Her mother dipped a piece of crusty bread into olive oil. “I think one will be enough, Zanna.”

  Zanna chuckled and then confided there would be Greek diving crews arriving by train next week.

  “What about women? Any wives and children? I would love to have some other Greek families living here.” Her mother leaned forward to capture Zanna’s attention.

  “For now, just men, but if all goes well, they will likely send for their families.” Before they could ply her with a host of questions, Zanna explained what she’d discovered upon examining Mr. Penrose’s documents and will.

  “So, all the money Dr. Penrose expected to inherit is gone?” Atticus spooned another helping of moussaka onto his plate. “I’ll bet she’s unhappy. What’s she going to do? I mean, I can’t imagine her down at the docks haggling with buyers and taking charge of sponging crews.” He swallowed a gulp of water. “That’s sure going to be a change for her. Who’s going to take care of her patients? You think another doctor will come to town?”

  Zanna drew a deep breath. “She’s going to continue her practice. I’ll be the one down at the docks taking care of the sponging business.”

  Her father’s fork dropped from his fingers and clanked against the china plate. “You’ll be doing what?” His voice boomed like an exploding cannon.

  “Jurek!” Her mother waved a napkin in the air. “We are not deaf. Please lower your voice.”

  Her father leaned forward, his broad chest heaving. “Did you hear what your daughter said, Halina? She’s talking about working on the docks—like she’s a man. Your only daughter! And all you have to say is that I shouldn’t shout?” His jaw dropped, and his bushy black eyebrows wriggled like frightened caterpillars attempting an escape.

  Had the matter not been so serious, Zanna would have laughed aloud. As it was, she stifled a threatening giggle, covered her mouth, and feigned a cough.

  “She isn’t going to work on the docks. You’re exaggerating.” Her mother arched her brows and shot Zanna a warning look. “Tell your father he has misunderstood. You plan only to help your friend and you will be working in your law office like always.”

  “I heard what she said, Halina.” Her father shook his head. “First you go to work in that lawyer’s office as his clerk—and I never approved of that—then you go behind our backs and take that special test to become a lawyer. And then when Mr. Burnside leaves, you have your name painted on the front window and announce to the world that you are a lawyer.” He heaved a sigh. “‘Zanna Krykos, Lawyer’ in big gold letters. How do you think that makes me feel? My daughter, doing a man’s job.”

  “It isn’t a profession for only men, Papa. Maybe in Greece, but not here. I don’t understand why you want to cling to the old ways. You came to this country when you were ten years old, a little boy. But you still think we should act like we are living in the old country.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with the old ways. Even in this country, most women are married and having babies by your age.”

  Zanna tipped her head back and closed her eyes. “I don’t want a husband or babies, Papa. At least not yet. Maybe someday, but not now.”

  “You see how she is, Halina? She thinks like a man instead of a woman.”

  Before Zanna could utter a retort, her mother gently grasped her hand beneath the table and smiled at her father. “Now, Jurek, let’s not ruin our dinner with all this angry talk. Zanna is a good girl who wants to use her mind and learn as much as she can before she takes a husband. She will marry one day and give you grandchildren.”

  Zanna glanced across the table. Her older brother was grinning from ear to ear. He was loving every minute of this exchange. She returned his smile before turning toward her father. “Yes, Papa, one day I will do as Mama says. But if it is marriage and babies that concern you, maybe Atticus should be looking for a wife. He is older than me.”

  Her brother’s smile faded. “Don’t pull me into this, Zanna. Papa is talking to you.” His grin returned as quickly as it had disappeared. “Maybe one of those Greek divers will be looking for a wife. Right, Papa?”

  Her father shook his head. “I want my daughter to marry a man who makes a good living and is home every night. A husband who is out to sea all the time is not for Zanna.”

  “Well, thank you both for deciding upon my future for me.” She narrowed her dark eyes and sent her brother a look that told him she’d get back at him.

  Atticus leaned back, a look of pleasure creasing his face. “It will be nice to have some other Greeks living in the area. Do you think those men will take orders from a woman, Zanna? I don’t know how you think you can give them direction when you know so little about sponging. Will you be going out on the boat to show them how to dive?”

  Her younger brother, Homer, joined the laughter. “I would like to see that, Zanna.”

  “Well, I would not!” Her father’s tone brought a halt to her brothers’ laughter. “I want you to forget about this silly idea. The docks are no place for a woman.”

  “This isn’t about giving orders, Papa. I’m a lawyer and Lucy is my client. She hired me to help her and, as her lawyer, it’s my job to do whatever is necessary to assist her.”

  “Baah!” Her father waved his hand. “I never saw Mr. Burnside working at the docks. He helped his clients from behind that big desk of his. But you want me to believe that for you to be a lawyer, you have to go down to the docks to conduct your business.”

  “If Mr. Burnside was still here, he’d do exactly what I’m doing. Lucy hired me to take care of her business, and that means going wherever I must to accomplish the task. If I could pass the exam and become a lawyer, I can do this, too.”

  Her heart pounded in her chest. Never before had she spoken to her father in such a determined manner. She now realized it would have been better to remain silent until after the men arrived—until she was already embroiled in the business—just as she’d done with the bar exam. Being forthright with her family was going to do nothing but compound her problems.

  Her father folded his napkin and dropped it across his plate before clearing his throat. “I know you think you know everything, Zanna, but let me tell you this: The philosopher Socrates once said that the one thing he knew was that he knew nothing; and that was the source of his wisdom.” He tipped his head to one side and pointed his finger in her direction. “But you, Zanna, think you know everything. I hope you are right.”

  “I don’t know everything, Papa, but Lucy needs my help.”

  He pushed away from the table and stood. “I will discuss this no more. I’ve told you what I think. You are a grown woman determined to set your own pat
h. I hope you don’t make a mistake.”

  Her father’s parting words remained in her thoughts as Zanna prepared for bed. Had she made a mistake? Should she have ignored Lucy’s plight? Would she have the strength to manage fifty men and make decisions that could impact their lives and Lucy’s fortune? She should have remained silent until Lucy had given a definite answer.

  She slipped between the sheets and adjusted her pillow. Perhaps her idea to take over and operate the business was far more than she could manage. Once again she drifted off to sleep with a prayer on her lips—a request for direction.

  The night was fraught with nightmares of Lucy being left penniless and sued by the bank. When Zanna attempted to represent her friend, a beak-nosed judge ordered Zanna to jail. He declared she was a fraud who had never received a proper license to practice law. As morning dawned, she awakened gasping for air and clutching her damp nightgown, recalling her latest horror of the night: The Greek divers had organized a mutiny and thrown her overboard.

  Zanna’s hands shook as she slipped on her single-breasted suit jacket. “It was only a dream. It was only a dream.” She continued to mutter the words until she descended the stairs and entered the kitchen. “No breakfast for me, Mama. I have an appointment and I don’t want to be late.”

  “You look pale. Did you sleep well?” Her mother’s eyes darkened with concern.

  “I’m fine. I’ll see you for supper this evening.” She wanted to speak with Lucy before her first patient arrived. Between the disagreement with her father and the nightmares she’d endured, Zanna feared she’d made a mistake. One that could prove tragic for both Lucy and her. She rounded the corner and caught sight of Lucy exiting the front door of her office.

  Zanna waved her parasol in the air. “Lucy!” When she didn’t immediately stop, Zanna called again. “Lucy! I need to speak with you.”

  Lucy turned and waved her forward. “Hurry! I need to call on Bessie Rochester. She’s not feeling well. Her sister came by and got me out of bed this morning.”

  Before Zanna could speak, Mr. Markley shouted Lucy’s name and came running in their direction. “Got a telegram for ya, Dr. Penrose.” He huffed for air and waved the telegram in the air. “Just arrived. You need to see it.” He thrust it toward Lucy.

  She unfolded the paper and read. Her head jerked upward. “This can’t be correct.”

  Mr. Markley frowned. “It is, Doc. I took it down exactly.”

  Lucy paled and looked at Zanna. “I’m accepting your offer. The Greek crew boarded an earlier train and will arrive this afternoon at three o’clock. You’re in charge.”

  CHAPTER

  4

  Nico Sevdalis signaled to the conductor, who was navigating his way down the aisle of the swaying train. The man stopped and was now visiting with one of the finely dressed female passengers. This journey would have been much easier if Nico had learned more English before he and the other men boarded the ship from Greece. The voyage hadn’t been so difficult. There had been two Greek crew members on the ship who had been quick to assist them and answer their many questions. But once they’d disembarked to begin the final portion of their journey by train, they hadn’t been as fortunate.

  His attempts to locate the proper train in each of the depots along the way had been close to impossible. He couldn’t read the names of the cities and times of departure posted on the large boards, and every attempt to make himself understood by other passengers or railroad employees had been problematic. The railroad agents had proved less than helpful, most of them ignoring him while they attended to passengers purchasing tickets—those able to speak English.

  He’d managed to learn only a little English from an American he’d met in Greece, and the phrases he memorized didn’t include the necessary skill to communicate their needs throughout the journey. When the conductor had finally finished his conversation, he glanced down the aisle. Once again Nico waved to him.

  The man’s lips tightened in a thin line as he approached. He stopped beside Nico and arched his thick brows. Nico tapped his pocket watch and pointed to his ticket.

  The conductor removed a watch from his pocket and pointed to the three before lifting three fingers in the air.

  Nico nodded, then stood and gestured to the men traveling with him. “We will arrive soon. Do your best to look presentable. We want to make a fine impression on Mr. Penrose and get off to a good start.”

  Nico was pleased to see several of his men pull combs from their pockets as he picked his way down the aisle and crossed the platform into the adjoining car. After delivering the same message there, he returned to his seat. He’d felt the weight of responsibility throughout their journey, but even more so with their destination drawing near. Perspiration beaded his forehead and upper lip. He dropped back into his seat and swiped his damp palms down the front of his pant legs.

  He was the one who’d convinced these seasoned crew members to leave their homeland; he was the one who’d offered assurance they would soon earn enough money to have their families join them; he was the one who said Mr. Penrose could be trusted as an honest businessman who would honor his promises. And he was the one who’d said they would have a better life in America. In truth, he had hoped all of what he promised would come true, yet he couldn’t be sure the men would earn enough money to bring their families in the near future—it could take years. And he’d never met Mr. Penrose. He’d relied upon correspondence from Adelfo Pappas, a Greek sponge buyer living in New York who had written to the director of the Greek Sponge Exchange. As for a good life in America, Nico had relied upon stories he’d heard from visitors, but he couldn’t be certain he and his men would discover anything better than what they’d left behind.

  The conductor made his way down the aisle and came to a halt beside Nico. He pointed to Nico and then gestured toward the door. Nico smiled and nodded, then stood and instructed the men to collect their belongings and disembark before he strode into the adjoining car to advise the remaining men. The weary group congregated on the platform near the baggage carts while Nico surveyed the few people waiting on the platform. He didn’t see anyone who looked like he might be Mr. Penrose. There were two ladies and a young man, in addition to two or three trainmen.

  He turned toward his fellow travelers and forced a smile. “I don’t think Mr. Penrose has arrived just yet. Perhaps he didn’t know we would arrive today.”

  “You told us you sent a telegram telling him we were arriving early.” There was a note of accusation in the comment that came from the back of the group.

  Nico stiffened. “I did, but there could have been a problem.”

  “Like maybe they couldn’t understand your English and the telegram said we weren’t coming at all.” The remark was enough to cause a low murmuring among the men.

  “This is not the time to argue. We have safely arrived at our new home, and I’m going to see if I can locate someone who will direct me to Mr. Penrose. Just remain right here. Mr. Pappas told me there would be an interpreter at the station when we arrived.”

  Nico attempted to tamp down the fear mounting in his chest. There was no way for him to know the size of Tarpon Springs, but he doubted he’d be able to locate the home of Mr. Penrose. There was a possibility Mr. Penrose might be waiting inside the station. One thing was certain: He needed to do something before his crews considered a mutiny.

  Straightening his shoulders, Nico strode toward the station with a determined step. He hoped an air of confidence would lessen the murmurs of dissatisfaction among his men. Before he arrived at the depot door, one of the young ladies he’d noticed earlier turned and stared at him. He tipped his hat and flashed a smile. Surely two unescorted women hadn’t been sent to greet a group of fifty Greek sailors. The thought amused him, though he had to admit she was lovely. Her dark hair and eyes reminded him of the beautiful Greek women they’d left behind. She stepped toward him. He’d heard that many women in this country possessed an unexpected boldness. Was this an e
xample of such behavior? They would approach a man without proper introduction? He shook off the thought. He didn’t have time to worry about women right now.

  Zanna stepped into the path of the dark-haired Greek who had glanced over his shoulder as he walked toward the depot. She was directly in front of him when he turned around, and had she not taken a backward step, he would have plowed her down. He gestured to the depot door.

  She nodded and spoke to him in Greek. “I’m here to meet you, Mr. Sevdalis.” When he didn’t immediately answer, she continued. “You are Nicolas Sevdalis, are you not?”

  He nodded. “You speak Greek.” He blew out a long sigh.

  “Yes. Do you speak any English?” She guessed he and the other men hadn’t encountered many Greeks along the way.

  He held his finger and thumb apart a short distance. “A little.”

  She smiled. “Then it will be easier if we speak in Greek.”

  He nodded his agreement. “I am to meet Mr. James Penrose.” Using his thumb, he gestured over his shoulder. “My men and I have come from Greece to work for him. You are the interpreter?” He gave her a generous smile. “I could not ask for anyone who speaks better Greek. It is a relief to be understood. The journey has been difficult since I speak only a little English, as I said. I didn’t know there were already Greeks living in the city.”

  “Only my family, Mr. Sevdalis.”

  “Nico. Please call me Nico. I promise to be on my best behavior so I can keep you as my interpreter.”

  Zanna smiled and waved Lucy forward. “I am Zanna Krykos and this is Miss Lucy Penrose, the daughter of James Penrose.”

  “Ahh.” He bobbed his head, then shifted his attention back to Zanna. “Her father has sent her to meet the train and take us to our lodgings. I am sure Mr. Penrose is a very busy man, but I look forward to meeting him very soon. We are eager to begin our work, and I’m sure he will want us out in our boats as soon as they arrive. I think it would be good if we could meet him later this evening. After we are settled.”