The Lady of Tarpon Springs

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The Lady of Tarpon Springs Page 6

by Judith Miller


  A crooked smile played on his lips. “So you’ll know if something is wrong with them?”

  She shook her head. “Probably not, but you will. I know how to file a request for reimbursement if you discover any damage.” She folded her arms across her waist. “Do you know how to file for reimbursement?”

  He shook his head.

  “Then it seems we need each other. Shall we go to the docks together, or would you rather join me later?”

  He grimaced. “I don’t want you going on the boats without me. Give me a minute to tell the men I’m leaving.”

  “You’re not going to bring any of them with you?”

  “Not if you’re going. They wouldn’t go near a boat with a woman on board—whether tied to the dock or not. Sailors are a suspicious lot. If they discover you were on any of the boats and we have problems when out to sea, they’ll believe it was because of you.”

  Zanna shrugged. “I suppose they can believe whatever they want, but I’m not going to allow their suspicions to keep me from doing my job. Shall we go?”

  “Do I have a choice?” His tone was lighthearted, but she didn’t miss the look of trepidation in his expression. He didn’t want her setting foot on those boats, either.

  She tipped her head to the side and met his eyes. “You always have a choice. I’ve discovered the difficulty lies in making the proper one.”

  He matched her gait as they trod the distance to the docks. His shoulders squared, and he shaded the sun from his eyes as the boats came into view. “Those beauties are quite a sight. They look good from a distance.”

  For the remainder of their trek, his attention remained fixed upon the three boats. It was a wonder he didn’t trip and sprawl in a heap before they arrived. The wooden boards creaked beneath her feet as she followed him along the dock.

  He stretched out his arm and traced his fingers along the curves of the word Anastasi, which had been painted on the bow in royal blue. “She is the oldest, but my favorite.” He gestured to the next boat. “She is the St. Nicolas and the third boat is the Crete. She is the newest, and most of the men like her the best.”

  “Because they believe the Crete is safer than the other boats?”

  “Who can say? The divers always want the boat with the newest diving equipment, but all boats are safe if they are repaired when needed.”

  “Have any of these boats required repair?”

  He frowned. “Of course. All boats require repair. I thought your papa was a boat builder. Surely he repairs boats, does he not?”

  “Yes, but . . .” She hesitated, attempting to recall the exact wording of the contract. Why hadn’t she brought it with her?

  “But what?” He arched his brows.

  “I seem to recall the boats were to be new.”

  Nico slapped his palm on his forehead. “You are a difficult woman, Miss Krykos. I think you look for trouble at every turn.”

  “That is not true.” She jutted her chin. “I do not look for trouble. I’m merely doing my job. It is my duty to ensure the terms of the contract are met, and I recall the contract stating the boats were to be new.”

  “And I recollect it saying the boats were to be in ‘like new’ condition.” He waved at the boats. “These boats are as good as any that slide into the water from the builders’ blocks.”

  “Zanna! Zanna!”

  She turned and shaded her eyes against the bright morning sun. Her chest deflated at the sight of her father, Atticus, and Homer rushing toward her and continuing to holler her name. She gave Nico a sideways glance. “My father and brothers.”

  “Ah, that is good. Your father will confirm what I’ve told you is true. These boats are the finest diving boats any man could hope for.”

  “But they aren’t new.” Why didn’t he listen? Did she need to stomp her foot like a toddler to make her point?

  Rather than respond, Nico circled her and extended his hand toward the approaching men. “Mr. Krykos, it is good to meet you.” His grin was as wide as a half-moon on a clear night. He turned toward her older brother. “And you are Atticus?” After Atticus nodded and shook his hand, Nico grasped her younger brother’s hand. “And Homer, am I right?”

  Homer bobbed his head and glanced at his sister. “I’m surprised you told him about us, Zanna.”

  Zanna forced a smile. “Why would you be surprised? I’m not ashamed of my family, Homer.” The hem of her skirt caught on a loose board and she leaned down to free the fabric. “Why are you down here, Papa? I thought you were behind schedule.”

  “Only a little. Besides, it is more important to meet new friends from the homeland.” Her father patted Nico’s shoulder. “My family is pleased to have more Greeks in Tarpon Springs. My wife and mother are hoping your women will soon arrive.”

  “I don’t have a wife, but some of my men are eager to bring their families once they are sure they can earn enough money. Everything depends on the quality of the sponges we find—and the quantity, too. If the beds are small—”

  “First things first.” Though it was rude to interrupt, this conversation could go on all morning. Zanna smiled at her father. “We need to inspect the boats, Papa.” She hoped he would take the hint and escort her brothers back home.

  Instead, he nodded and moved toward the Anastasi. “She is a real beauty.” He turned his attention to Nico. “I’m eager to take a look. You don’t object, do you?”

  “Of course not. I am honored to have any qualified man inspect the boats.”

  Zanna didn’t miss the emphasis he’d placed on qualified man. “I’m sure that includes any qualified manager, as well.”

  Nico didn’t answer, so she proceeded to lead the way.

  CHAPTER

  7

  Zanna listened while the four men talked at length about the structure and seaworthy capabilities of the diving boats. She considered the topic somewhat boring, but she understood the need to learn all aspects of the sponging business—and that included the necessary equipment.

  “Your boats are different from any I’ve seen.” Her father’s gaze settled on the stern of the Crete.

  “In Greece, they are known as salcoleve.” There was a hint of pride in Nico’s response.

  Her father nodded. “They resemble the Turkish boats known as takas. My grandfather told me about them.”

  Nico gave an enthusiastic nod. “The stern and forward topside flare are a little different, but you are right. The salcoleve and taka are both full-bodied and smooth-planked. We will see how these beauties sail in the Gulf waters. I am hopeful they will do well.”

  Zanna tugged on her father’s sleeve as they prepared to board the Crete for inspection. “The other two boats are much the same, Papa, and there are matters I need to discuss with Nico regarding the contract. I’m sure you need to return to your work.”

  “I value your father’s opinion and would prefer he stay—if he has time, of course. You may be able to help settle the contract matter your daughter speaks of.”

  She hadn’t realized Nico was standing directly behind her. She wheeled around to face him and was met with a broad grin.

  “I would be happy to help.” Her father rubbed his hands together. “What is this problem?”

  Atticus nudged her arm and leaned close to her ear. “I think you have met your match, Zanna. He’s as shrewd as you are.”

  Her breath quickened. Why did Atticus take such pleasure in taunting her? No doubt he was the one who’d convinced her father they should come and look at the boats. She’d pretend he wasn’t here. Atticus hated being ignored. She quickly stepped away from her brother and drew near her father’s side. “I understood the boats were to be new construction, while Nico—Mr. Sevdalis—says they were to be in ‘like new’ condition. I believe that if the terms of the contract say new, Mr. Sevdalis is going to have to return a portion of the money sent by Mr. Penrose.”

  Nico’s nostrils flared, and his face reddened. “What? You never said one word about returning an
y money. These boats are in sound condition. Better than new. Even if you are right, you know there is no money to repay you.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out its empty lining. “You see? Nothing.”

  “You need to remain calm, Mr. Sevdalis.” Her father turned to her. “And you need to choose your battles very carefully, daughter.” He lowered his head closer to her. “I don’t know what the contract says, but these boats appear to be fine seaworthy vessels. I can’t judge the hand-operated air pump in the amidships hold, but I don’t think you should argue with Nico. You need to remember that the men will refuse to go out to sea if they think the boats or equipment are faulty.”

  “But, Papa—”

  “Hear me out, Zanna.” He lowered his voice. “You must think of the consequences if you reject these boats. These men have no money to pay you, so will you wait for newly constructed boats before you let them begin sponging? You’re being unfair. If the boats were in poor condition, I would understand, but do not force a battle until you are certain you can win.” He placed his arm around her shoulder. “Besides, you don’t even know for sure what the contract says.”

  “I’ll do as you say, Papa, but once I read the contract . . .”

  “Zanna.” Her father shook his head. “Heed my words and seek God’s counsel before you do something you will later regret.”

  “Fine.” She exhaled a long breath. “Now will you take Atticus and Homer back to the shop with you?”

  He chuckled and shouted to her brothers. Atticus turned toward them and waved. “Wait, Papa. I’m talking to Nico about going out on the boat.”

  Zanna’s eyes widened, and she hurried toward her brother. “No! Absolutely not! Neither of you is going to sail on these boats.” She pointed back and forth between her two brothers.

  “No worries about me, Zanna. I don’t want to go underwater in one of those diving suits. That’s the last place I want to be when I draw my last breath.” Homer shuddered and hurried toward their father.

  She pulled her older brother’s shirtsleeve. “You need to leave, too, Atticus. These boats are not for visitors or sight-seeing. They’re working boats, and the only people sailing them are the spongers.”

  “Well, who says I couldn’t learn to be a sponger? Maybe if I go out with the crew, I can learn to dive. Right, Nico?”

  Zanna leveled a warning look at Nico and was thankful when he shook his head. “Can’t promise to take you out there, Atticus. I wouldn’t want to get in more trouble with your sister.”

  When her brothers and father were finally out of earshot, Zanna paced the dock running alongside the Crete. “In the future, please don’t take my brother’s side against me, Nico. Creating problems in my home will only make it difficult for us to get along.”

  He laughed until a tear escaped his eye and rolled down his tanned cheek. “And what have we had so far? Smooth sailing?”

  He was still chuckling when she headed toward the office. Maybe he wouldn’t be laughing so much once she reviewed the contract.

  Zanna leaned back in the creaky office chair and sighed. He was right. The contract said the boats should be new or in like-new condition. He’d probably have another good laugh once he discovered she was wrong. She longed to talk with Lucy. She needed someone who would lend a sympathetic ear.

  After tucking the contract back into the file, she pushed away from the desk. Perhaps Lucy was in her office, and with a modicum of good fortune, she might be free for a visit. She’d not gone far when she heard her name being called in a high-pitched, warbling falsetto.

  She turned to see the Rochester sisters scurrying toward her. Bessie, a buxom woman who was the eldest, waved her parasol like a soldier entering battle. Zanna cringed at the sight. Had Viola not ducked, Bessie would have landed a direct blow to her sister’s head. “Be careful with that parasol, Sister.” Eugenia frowned at Bessie as the threesome came to a halt.

  Bessie ignored her sister’s reprimand and pointed the tip of her parasol at Zanna’s midsection. “I’m pleased to see you. I didn’t know if you’d received notice the library committee was meeting today.”

  Zanna shook her head. “I don’t know anything about a meeting. I was on my way to have a chat with Lucy.”

  Not to be deterred, Bessie grasped Zanna’s arm. “Well, she’s not in her office. I know for a fact that she’s tending to Florence Morgan. Seems she’s ailing again. And, knowing Florence, the doctor will likely be there for hours.” She leaned closer. “Florence is a real complainer.”

  Viola peeked around her sister’s ample body. “Bessie was sitting on the front porch when the doctor passed by a little while ago.”

  Zanna nodded. Putting the pieces together didn’t take much thought. “So you inquired where Lucy was going and she told you Florence Morgan needed medical care.”

  Viola beamed as though Zanna had solved a deep, dark mystery. The older woman’s gray curls bobbed beneath a large feather-bedecked hat. “Bessie likes to keep abreast of what’s happening, you know.”

  Bessie glowered at her sister. “Only because I want to lend a helping hand if it’s needed, Sister.”

  Viola ignored Bessie’s retort. “Mrs. Knapp is hosting us at Crescent Place today. I do love going to her home. I believe it’s the loveliest home in all of Florida, don’t you, Sister?”

  Viola didn’t indicate which sister she was addressing, but Bessie agreed. However, Eugenia frowned. “It may be the loveliest house in Tarpon Springs, but I think there are a few others in St. Augustine and Jacksonville that outshine Crescent Place.”

  “Now, Sister, don’t say that loud enough for others to hear.” Bessie pointed a gloved finger at Zanna. “Don’t you ever repeat what you just heard or Mrs. Knapp will never again invite us to Crescent Place, and we don’t want that to happen, do we, Eugenia?”

  “No. But I’m just speaking the truth, and there’s nothing wrong in that.”

  Bessie clucked her tongue. “Do quit prattling on, Eugenia.” She squeezed Zanna’s arm. “I think you should come with us. Reading is important for young and old alike, and we want to make everyone happy with the choices that are made.”

  Zanna squinted against the late-afternoon sunlight. She couldn’t possibly sit through a meeting with ten or twelve women as they attempted to choose what books should be purchased for the library. “I’m sure we’ll all be pleased with the books you ladies choose. I certainly trust your judgment.” She shaded her eyes with the palm of her hand. Was that Nico running toward them? She turned to Bessie. “Would you ladies excuse me? I see one of my clients in the distance, and I believe he wants to speak to me.”

  The ladies all gazed into the distance. Eugenia was first to speak. “I don’t recognize him. Is he a fisherman?”

  “No, not a fisherman.” Zanna’s stomach churned. She didn’t want a prolonged conversation with the three sisters. They’d repeat every word she said, and most of it would be incorrect. They took umbrage if anyone accused them of spreading gossip. The Rochester sisters believed it was their civic duty to share news with others. Zanna wasn’t certain there was any distinction between gossip and sharing news, yet she didn’t share that view with the Rochester sisters.

  “Tell the committee members I’ll do my best to attend the next library meeting.” Before they could question her further, Zanna hurried toward Nico. She was breathing hard by the time they met each other. “Is something wrong?” She gasped for another breath.

  He shook his head. “No. I saw you with those ladies, and I was going to tell you that I would come by your office before going to your house for supper.”

  “Supper? Who invited you to supper?”

  “Your brother, Atticus. Is that not all right? He said your family would be pleased to have me.”

  Atticus! Always meddling where he didn’t belong. Always taking enjoyment in her discomfort. He was the typical older brother. She constantly tried to best him at his game, but he always found one more way to taunt her. She’d refused his wish to
go out with Nico on one of the boats, so he’d invited Nico to supper. He knew she’d be uncomfortable. She also knew he’d do everything he could to embarrass her throughout the evening.

  “I’m sure they will. Especially Atticus.”

  Disbelief shone in her brother’s eyes when Zanna and Nico arrived in the family kitchen. She edged close to her brother’s side. “Sorry to ruin your surprise, Atticus.”

  He chuckled. “I thought this was so well planned, but there’s always another day.”

  Zanna ignored his remark and introduced Nico to her mother and grandmother. Yayá looked him up and down, then shook her head. “Why you want to spend your time underwater? You can’t find anything better to look at on land?”

  “I won’t be diving as much as I did in Greece, but the men in my family have been spongers for as far back as I can remember. When my grandfather would dive, he carried a sponge net and stone weighing as much as a small child to help him go deep to find the best sponges. He could hold his breath for almost three minutes.” Nico shook his head. “I could never do that.”

  Yayá stirred a pot of bubbling fasolada soup. “I know about those divers. When I was a young girl, I would go with my friend Selia and watch for the boats to return. Her father was a diver.” She turned and stared at Nico. “One day he didn’t return. Selia was never the same.”

  “You are right. Many men die at sea. But death is part of life, is it not? There is danger in many places. I do not live with fear when I go to sea.”

  “That is good. But if you had a wife and children, they would live the fear for you.” She shrugged. “Maybe is best for seafaring men to remain single.”

  Zanna winced. “Why don’t you sit down over here, Nico?” She directed him to a chair between her brothers.

  “My father mentioned you and Zanna were having a disagreement over the condition of the boats. Did you two get that settled?” Atticus shot a grin at his sister.

  Nico bobbed his head. “On the way here, your sister told me the boats meet the requirements set out in the contract, so we hope to begin sponging soon.”

 

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