No Longer Needed

by Brenda Grate

  “How can we reevaluate what we want if we don’t get off the treadmill of what we’re already doing? Holidays are perfect for getting time to think and decide what we want to do when we go home.”

  Emma let go of Jen’s chin after pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Think about it, honey. That’s all I ask.”

  Jen nodded, thoughtful. She reached for her coffee and took a deep gulp.

  Emma pushed the tray of pastries closer. “Have something to eat.”

  Jen offered a tiny smile. She picked up a pastry and sniffed it.

  Emma laughed. “That’s spanakopita. It’s spinach and feta cheese. One of my favorites.” She moved her chair back to her side of the table and picked up a sausage roll. “This is another of my favorites.” She bit into it and gave Jen an overly dramatic dreamy smile.

  The air filled with Jen’s laugh. Her daughter had always had the most delightful giggle.

  Jen chomped into her pastry and grinned around a mouthful.

  “Delicious,” she declared with satisfaction.

  The rest of breakfast passed with a peace not often felt around their table. They chatted about their plans for the next few days. Emma could see Jen had shed a huge weight. It had seemed an impossibility, but Jen had opened up to her. It seemed they had made ground in their relationship, maybe even sowed the seed for a new type of relationship.

  They washed dishes together. Just before Jen left the room, she turned to Emma. “Thanks, Momma.”

  “You’re welcome, baby.”

  Jen disappeared down the hall with Emma’s smile breaking out behind her like the sun after an interminable number of cloudy days.

  Emma could feel that smile in every part of her body.

  The house filled with a warm, soft light as the sun lowered. Everything felt peaceful and time seemed to have slowed.

  I could seriously get used to this, Emma thought as she stretched out.

  She’d taken an afternoon nap, determined to get onto Greek time as soon as possible. She didn’t want to be dragging herself around when there were so many amazing things to see.

  At that thought, Emma went to find Jen. They’d decided to visit Epidavrus, an ancient theatre close by that the guidebook declared a “must see.” She’d left Jen lounging in the hammock on the front porch when she’d gone for her nap. Jen had looked peaceful, lying with a magazine face-down across her chest, eyes closed. Emma went to her nap with a light heart and now looked forward to the rest of the trip.

  She wandered around the house looking for Jen, but couldn’t find her. Then she spotted the note in the middle of the kitchen table. Her heart sank as she stood stock still and stared at it, like a deer caught in a hunter’s scope. She suspected what it contained, but picked it up hoping her first instincts were wrong.

  Dear Momma,

  Thank you for the talk today. You helped me come to my decision, but please don’t blame yourself. I’m going away. For how long, I don’t know, but please don’t worry. I’ll be fine. I need to go “find myself” as they say. You said I’m one of the smartest young women you know, but I’ve been reduced to a cliché.

  Emma clutched the letter to her chest for a moment, picturing Jen in her mind. Her eyes rolling as she spoke the last sentence.

  I don’t know where I will be, but I’ve taken my luggage and left my phone. I don’t want to talk to anyone I know for a while. As you said, how can I change if I don’t stop doing what I’ve always done, and that includes being in the same relationship with the people who love me.

  I know this will hurt you, Momma, but that isn’t my intention. I’ve been a bitch, I know that. But I do love you. You have been there for me since I was little and I appreciate it, even if I don’t show it. Dad has done nothing but push me to succeed, but always within his parameters. I don’t blame Dad, he has his own issues, but I know that I’ve got to figure out who I am apart from my parents and my brother.

  Give my love to Brad and Dad if you talk to him. Please, please don’t worry. I’m a big girl and I’ll stay safe. I’m a smart girl and know how to keep out of danger. I’m probably going to explore Greece for a while, but it won’t be in this area, so don’t look for me. I’ll send you a message letting you know I’m all right, but that’s all I can do for now. Don’t hate me.

  Love,

  Jennifer

  Emma placed the letter on the table and smoothed her hands over it.

  She didn’t know how much more she could take. First, she lost the man she’d been expecting to grow old with. Then she lost her son to the wilds of the world—although she’d lost him long before to a camera lens. Now, just when she’d gotten her daughter back, she’d lost her too.

  All sense of peace gone, Emma slumped into a chair and dropped her head to the table.

  She cried out her disappointment and fear.

  Chapter 31

  The airport gleamed with newness as though it had just been built. Connie hadn’t expected that. Everything looked the same as most other airports she’d been in. It reminded her of when she’d landed in Fiumicino, Rome’s airport, many years ago. She’d expected sculptures or something. She had also been very young. Connie hadn’t realized what a romantic soul she had.

  The luggage carousel finally got moving after everyone had waited for about twenty minutes. Connie hoped Emma had made it to the airport already. She couldn’t wait to see her friend and rest from the long flight. Emma had told her on the phone that they had a two-hour drive to Nafplio, but that she’d rented a comfortable car for the ride. Connie looked forward to stretching her legs out and relaxing, but as soon as she could manage it, she’d be dragging Emma to the beach.

  Spotting her dark maroon case, Connie pushed her way to the front and nabbed it. She grunted as she lugged it off the carousel, then made her way through to the waiting area and spotted Emma immediately. They threw their arms around each other in a tight hug.

  “Connie, I’m so glad you’re here.”

  “Me too. Wow, what a flight.” She glanced around. “Where’s Jen? She didn’t go home already, did she?”

  Emma’s face fell. She took the pull handle of Connie’s suitcase and headed toward the main doors, Connie falling in beside her.

  “Jen left, yes, but not for home.”

  “What? Where did she go?”

  “I don’t know. She left me a note and took off. You can read it when we get to the house. I really don’t know what’s going on with that girl. We’d just had an incredible talk a few hours before she left and I thought things were getting better. I got up from my nap and she was gone.”

  “Oh, Emma, I’m so sorry,” Connie said, slinging an arm around her friend. “Do we need to go look for her?”

  They stepped into the heat and Connie tipped her face up to soak in the sunshine.

  “No. She said she would let me know she’s okay. She just wants to go find herself, as she put it.”

  “I know you don’t want to hear it, but I understand what she means. I did the same thing went I spent that summer in Rome.”

  “Actually I do understand, Con. I’m sort of doing the same thing myself away from Alan. How do you even know yourself when you spend every day focusing on everyone else?”

  They stepped up to a small silver Fiat.

  “You’re right, and I’m glad you’re finally focusing on yourself,” Connie said.

  Emma loaded the suitcase into the car, and they headed down the highway. She pointed out different sites along the way, but before long, Connie grew sleepy. She drifted off to the sound of the engine purring with her best friend beside her.

  She might be on holiday, but whenever she was with Emma, she was home.

  Chapter 32

  Emma and Connie sat at a table beside the sea and watched while several patrons in the taverna danced to the live Greek music. Emma sipped a glass of icy ouzo while Connie enjoyed rosé wine. They’d had a delicious dinner after which Connie begged for recipes. The owners of the bar were a Greek and Engl
ish couple, the wife having come over from England on holiday many years before. They’d fallen in love and she never left. Emma could imagine doing the same thing. The whole idea of falling in love in Greece was as alluring as love itself.

  A small child had curled up in a chair and now slept, peaceful despite the music and laughter.

  “Isn’t this great, Emma?” Connie clinked her glass to Emma’s and grinned. “I’m having the time of my life.”

  “Me too. It’s so exotic, the warm air, the sound of the sea, the Greek music, and all the dancing.”

  “Not to mention the ouzo and wine,” Connie laughed.

  “We could have that at home, but not the rest of this,” Emma said, pointing to the group of dancers with her glass.

  “True.” Connie adjusted her chair to see the dancers better.

  Several tourists recorded with video cameras. Emma was glad she hadn’t brought a camera to the little seaside town, Toló. Georgia had told them about the place, saying that it was a great place to experience the sea and a festive atmosphere. She had been right.

  They’d discovered the little taverna earlier in the day while walking along the beach, their feet in the water. A sign outside proclaimed that evening to be Greek Night, which caused Connie to break down in giggles.

  “Isn’t every night Greek night?” she’d said.

  The owner had been outside working and heard her. “You’re right,” he said, “but it seems to pull the tourists in.”

  He spoke perfect English. He pulled his wife out of the kitchen to introduce her. She had a posh British accent and a lovely smile. They told Emma and Connie how they’d met at a taverna much like the one they stood in front of and had fallen for each other while dancing in a huge group circle, arms around each other.

  It didn’t take more than a glance for Emma and Connie to agree they’d come back that evening for dinner and live music.

  Emma took another sip of her drink and smiled at the group of men who now danced a war dance. Earlier, Dimitri, the owner, had explained that some dances were just for the men.

  She’d never seen such masculinity. They leaped around to the music and slapped their ankles and stomped their feet as though preparing for battle.

  Emma’s face flushed and she tried to unobtrusively fan herself as if the heat were overcoming her. Then she saw Connie doing the same thing. They weren’t the only females looking a little too flushed for it to be only the temperature.

  As soon as the men finished their dance, a small man in snug white pants and a pink shirt began to sing in a mournful voice. He walked over to Connie and held out his hand, trying to get her to dance. Connie blushed and waved him away. Finally one woman stepped into the center of the dance floor, which was really only a small space between the tables.

  She swayed her hips, arms overhead, while she slowly spun in erotic circles. Emma leaned closer, her face heating again. She glanced around at the crowd and smiled at the stunned expressions. The foreigners looked slightly uncomfortable, as though they’d been caught doing something naughty, but really didn’t want to stop. The Greek men smiled and leered, not seeming to care if their wives noticed or not. The woman in the middle had a tiny smile on her face; she knew exactly the effect she had on the entire crowd, women included. The women wanted to be her, and the men wanted to be with her. Emma wondered what it must feel like to be that desired.

  Connie turned in her chair and leaned in to whisper, “I want to learn to dance like that.”

  “I’d be too embarrassed,” Emma replied. “But I bet you could dance like that. You have the body for it and the grace.”

  Connie shook her head vehemently.

  “It doesn’t look like it’s a specific dance,” Emma added. “But more of an intuitive one. I think you just listen to the music and move.”

  “Then you do it,” Connie shot back.

  Emma laughed at Connie’s surprised expression when the woman who’d been dancing snatched Connie’s hand and pulled her into the center. She continued her dance, eyes locked on Connie’s, showing her with movements alone, the way of the dance.

  After a few hesitant movements, Connie swayed with her, first her hips slowly, and then more pronounced. The woman took Connie’s hands and lifted them over her head before releasing them.

  “Feel the music,” she said in a strong Greek accent. Her long hair cascaded over her shoulders and down her back as she tipped her head back and closed her eyes, still swaying and moving her hips.

  Emma could see the moment that Connie let go and gave herself up to the music. She at first did the same movements as her partner, but then she began to move to a different rhythm, a faster one, her hips twisting and turning, almost like a belly dancer. Her arms rose higher and she tipped her head back, letting her hair fall so it reached almost to her hips. She spun in a circle and closed her eyes, her lips curving in a smile.

  The Greek woman had pulled the mesmerized crowd in, but Connie had an allure all her own.

  The music came to an end and Connie opened her eyes, looking almost surprised to find herself in the middle of a crowd of clapping people.

  She made her way back to the table, a shy smile on her face.

  “I can’t believe I did that,” she whispered.

  “I’m so proud of you. You were gorgeous.”

  “Thanks,” Connie said and grabbed her wine glass. “I’m so glad we found this place. It’s been so much fun.”

  Emma took a sip of her ouzo, the warm drink spreading to her limbs. She felt like liquid herself. Despite her worry over Jen, she had been enjoying her visit with Connie more than she remembered ever enjoying herself.

  The next song came to an end. The musicians put their instruments down and Dimitri put on a CD of Greek music. A couple of young men jumped up and launched into a complicated dance as though they’d been doing it since the cradle.

  They probably have, Emma mused.

  She smiled at the yellow half-moon in the sky, lifting her sweating ouzo glass in a salute. Yamas, she whispered to the moon.

  I’m really here! I did it, Papous!

  Emma knew Papous was at that very moment smiling down on her from heaven as she sat beside the Aegean Sea, drinking his favorite drink and listening to the music he’d grown up with.

  She lifted her glass again.

  Yamas, Papous.

  Emma couldn’t even whisper the words, her throat thick with emotion.

  Thank you for the little house. I’ll not disappoint you, I promise.

  “You okay, Emma?” Connie leaned over the table.

  “Yes, I’m better than okay. I feel wonderful.” She gestured at the dancers who now performed a simple circle dance. “Let’s join them. That one looks easy.”

  Connie held out her hand and Emma grabbed it. They joined the dancers, along with other tourists and stumbled their way through the steps until they had it nailed. The music sped up, and they laughed as they tried to keep in time.

  The party had only gotten started when Emma decided they’d stay till the end. It had been a long time since she’d wanted to outlast everyone at a gathering, but now she was determined to squeeze every last drop out of it. She was free. And she couldn’t imagine anything better at this moment than being where she was and doing exactly what she was doing.

  Chapter 33

  Emma woke in the middle of the night, hot, with the sheet tangled around her hips. She had a vague recollection of a dream, a disturbing one, but she couldn’t remember the details.

  Her iPhone said it was four in the morning.

  She’d fallen asleep with the air conditioner remote beside her and had clicked it off accidentally. She turned it back on and placed the remote on the bedside table.

  She and Connie had taken a room at the taverna. They’d asked Dimitri for a hotel recommendation, and learned he rented out rooms himself. It had been two a.m. and they were both a little drunk, so they jumped at the opportunity to head upstairs and get some sleep. Emma had taken
the smaller room with a tiny balcony, Connie had taken the one across the hall with a larger bathroom and no balcony.

  Emma tossed and turned, her thoughts whirling and soon realized sleep was not going to come again anytime soon. She put on the sundress she’d worn to dinner, grabbed her key and headed to the beach.

  All the revelers from the evening before had gone off either to their homes or hotels. The wind had died down and the water quietly lapped at the shore. Emma slipped off her sandals and stepped into the water. Coolness licked her ankles and brought a smile to her face. She stepped further in, lifting her hem out of the way.

  The moon, high in the early morning sky, cast a glow across the harbor. Small anchored boats rocked gently just outside of its spotlight. Emma imagined herself in a boat in the middle of the water, the moon gazing down on her, the water lapping at the sides of her boat. She shivered and stepped back to shore.

  The image brought back the loneliness and regret of her dream. Papous had always told her regret was a waste of time.

  But, how do I not regret things I wish hadn’t happened, or the things I wish had happened?

  The moon wavered as her eyes clouded over with tears.

  How can I be missing Alan when I can’t stand to be around him?

  That was a thought for another day, not when she was already emotional. Emma continued up the beach and climbed the steps of a tiny, deserted taverna. The tables and chairs sat in orderly rows. She grabbed a chair and pulled it toward her, disrupting the order. She sat on it and hugged her arms around herself. The sign above her head said Taberva. She puzzled out the sounds of the letters and realized it meant Taverna. One of the hardest things about being in Greece was the complete unfamiliarity of the Greek alphabet. At least when the words were in Latin characters, she had a chance of understanding.

  A movement in the shadows startled her, but she calmed when a stray cat stepped out of the darkness. It paused and stared at her. Emma stared back then moved her hand slowly down to the floor, outstretched to the cat. She wished she had something more to offer than just a stroke.