“It must be nice to have such a big family.”
“It is, but it also makes it hard to find in love.”
“Why?” She asked, thinking his English was sweet. “I would imagine you had a lot of women around your home, having four sisters and all their friends.”
“Yes, but my sisters do not like anyone. And the ones they like. Well …” A snigger followed by: “They are not the kind of girls I like.”
Thair didn’t know what kind of girls he liked, but she left it at that.
They continued to talk while eating dinner; the two of them ooohing and aaahing all through dinner as the succulent meat melted in their mouths. Thair shared her food, Gabriel shared his, and with every bite, every sip of wine, orgasmic sounds emerged from the two of them. She couldn’t remember the last time she enjoyed a dinner so much, the food and company included.
As the evening progressed, more people emerged from their homes, and the sidewalk in front of the restaurant became busy with teenagers, couples, women with baby carriages, middleaged men in groups, old people in hordes, all walking from one side of the town to the other. Lots of looky-loos eyed the food as they sauntered by, a few stopped for dinner, some went to the next café over for a frappé and dessert. Sometime during dinner, boisterous Bob and shifty Jake (Thair had already sized them up) stopped by with a couple of local girls to tell Gabriel where they would be and then to remind him, with a wink, not to stay out too late because the ship was leaving at 10:00 a.m. Thair heard those words, and reality hit her again, a lovely evening, but nothing more, one pleasant evening and then another good-bye.
The Americans told Gabriel and Thair that they should go to the bar later, but then again—wink—if they had better things to do, they would understand. Americans. She loved them. She was one of them after all. But they could be so crude and rude, often too forward, lacking tact. With every loaded comment to Gabriel, he pushed his sleeves up and looked away. It was obvious that he was uncomfortable, and his discomfort gave Thair comfort. She did not feel like this was a simple hook-up. She was special.
Even if it was for just a night.
After the Americans left, Gabriel and Thair continued their feast, with more bread served and more wine flowing, Thair’s belly felt like it would explode, and then, the dessert arrived.
“Gabriel, if I eat another bite, I fear I will not live to see tomorrow.”
“No rush. Let us enjoy our wine, but I want you to have one bite.”
The conversation ensued while the dessert, a white mousse-looking pudding drizzled with some raspberry sauce, sat patiently on the table looking exquisite, even tempting. After a few minutes: “Ready?” Gabriel said this as he pierced the panna cotta with a fork and stuck a small bit out to her, fork lingering in front of her mouth. She opened wide as the soft texture hit her lips, then sat on her tongue, dissolving slowly, creamy and just sweet enough. She was in heaven. She thought there was no rival for her beloved ekmek, but now that she had met panna cotta, the war of desserts was established. It was obvious from the look on Thair’s face that she loved the flavor, and because of her sheer delight, Gabriel was obviously pleased.
“See, this sweet is not from this world, like UFO, yes?”
“You’re right. It is simply divine.”
After a few quiet minutes, “How are you feeling?”
“Good, why?”
“I was wondering after dinner, if we take a walk? I really need to move this food,” he said this as he put his hand on his belly, which did look a bit rounder under his white shirt. Thair had already unbuttoned her top jean button and would have to rebutton it if they were going to stand up.
The check arrived, and without looking at it, he passed the man his Visa, and Thair did not try to argue. Taking her spoon and dipping it into the panna cotta again, Thair licked the utensil as Gabriel’s eyes lit up again. “It is so good, isn’t it?”
“It is indeed.”
Thair could not believe that she was talking this much about a dessert with a man. Not even Jessica liked food that much. James and Ravi saw food as fuel. Dinners out were sparse, and they surely did not enjoy talking about the flavors of the dishes with endless enthusiasm. After another bite, he finished off the dessert, licked his lips happily while simultaneously rubbing his belly. His hand quickly moved to his face, covering his mouth as he suppressed a burp. If he wasn’t that charming, Gabriel’s boorish gestures might have resembled those of a pot-bellied King Frederick after finishing his fourteenth dessert.
“Are you ready?” he said while pushing his chair back.
“Yes, I think so.” But as she got up, she realized in the almost three-hour sumptuous dinner, she hadn’t gone to the bathroom.
“Actually, Gabriel, I need to go to the restroom. Can you wait here?”
“Sure.” He pushed his chair in again, and she got to her wobbly feet, carefully crossing the street to the bathroom.
Half way to the other side, on impulse, she looked back and saw Gabriel staring at her. Not just looking, but staring, and when their eyes met, he didn’t look away, but smiled openly.
Upon her return, he said, “Can I tell you something … a bit strong?”
“I am not sure. What do you mean?” Thair responded dubiously.
Another chuckle. “Actually … no, never mind, sorry. Let’s just go.”
Thair didn’t push because she didn’t know if she wanted to hear something strong. Whatever that meant.
As they started to walk through the town, past the cafés, past the bars, he took her hand ever so naturally, and she didn’t resist. They continued to talk about different things from serious to frivolous topics. After about half an hour of walking and reaching the other side of the village, coming to the final small bar, he asked, “Would you like one more drink?”
“No, Gabriel. I don’t think so. In fact, I should probably be getting back to my room.” Why she said that she did not know.
“Your room? You must be joking! Will my Thair turn into a … calabasa … how do you say?”
“Pumpkin?”
“Yes, a pumpkin?”
“No, but it is already past midnight and—”
“I know, so why don’t we go for a Nescafe instead?”
“Really, Gabriel, I don’t think I could put another thing in my mouth.”
“Okay, I have another idea. Let’s go swimming!”
“You must be crazy!”
“No, it will be fun.”
“I don’t think so.” She didn’t want to sound boring, but she did not feel like swimming at 12:30 a.m. even if it was nice outside.
“Okay, I know, let us go to the beach; I take a dip and you see me, be sure I don’t drown?”
“Oh, Gabriel…” She did not want the night to end, so Thair agreed with a slight revision. “I have a better idea. Let’s just go sit on the lounge chairs for a bit, and then we’ll say goodnight.”
“Okay … but I take a dip later.”
“Okay.”
When they reached the chairs, they each sat down on one. Thair’s hands dropped, again, so natural the separation, just like the connection. They both put their heads back, hands behind their heads, and looked up at the stars. It was another warm night, like most of the summer nights in Greece, unlike California, where the nights were always chilly and sitting on the beach was always more painful than romantic.
Gabriel then opened his legs, letting them drop to either side of the chair. He grabbed Thair’s hand and ever so gently murmured, “Come, Thair. Come sit with me.” Without a moment’s hesitation, she stood up, a bit woozy, and sat cautiously on the chair with him. Her back was against his chest, her tailbone touching the most intimate part of him, her head resting on his shoulder. His arms were wrapped around her, holding her around the waist. She could feel his warm breath behind her, as he stroked his cheek on her soft, shiny hair. It would have been so easy at that moment to take him back to her room, screw Rule Number Five, but something inside wouldn�
��t let her. Tonight, it would stop here. Her body yearned for him, her loins did, her pulsing legs, her warmth did, but her heart spoke differently.
Even logic, her brain, the one who drove her nuts, agreed this time: Thair tonight should end here. Following her heart had been easy; it was logos that always demanded more, instructing (deceiving?) her: women and men are equal. Independent women can have numerous sexual partners without feeling guilty. Women can have sex without love; sex can be a physical act without emotional baggage; women could be like men in this respect. This is what her mind and education had taught her. Long gone were the days when women were considered sluts because they wanted non-committal sex. Rationally, Thair believed this, but emotionally, she didn’t. And tonight, even her brain agreed: Thair, wait. And since the two, heart and mind, were in alignment, she did not dare disagree.
She swiveled around, after about twenty minutes of quiet, feet on the ground, halfway facing him and said, “Gabriel, I need to say goodnight.”
“Do you want me to come to your room with you?” So blunt, so forward.
Her answer would remain: “No, not tonight.”
“Okay,” he said a bit disappointed, then looked at her as she sat sideways and whispered in her ear, “but I do want a goodnight kiss.” Before she could respond, his lips were on hers and the kissing started. It was long and deep and wet. She felt her head spinning. She opened her eyes to catch her breath, but he kept on kissing her. She could not say how long they kissed for, minutes? Half hour? Finally, she pulled away though his kisses grew more desperate.
“You really must go?” he pleaded.
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, Gabriel. Please don’t—”
“When will I see you again?”
“I don’t know, Gabriel. I think this should be good-bye.”
“No!” he sounded almost like a petulant child. “I return from Skiathos, then I have one day. I will be back here to see you. Okay?”
She didn’t know if she believed him, but said, “Sure.”
The next kiss she gave him was quick, afraid to get sucked in again; jumping to her feet, she stood above him.
“I will walk you to where you stay.”
“No, it’s right there,” she said, pointing to a building across the street. “I’ll be fine.”
“Please.”
“Gabriel, how about you just sit here and watch me walk away? You will see me enter the gate. Okay? I’ll be fine.” As Thair spoke these last words, she imagined this to be the end of her story, the end of a great love that was never realized. He was her Orpheus and she was Eurydice. But unlike Orpheus, he would be the one following with his eyes, and she would be the one who would not look back because if she did, he would be pulled back into the darkness forever, and this would undeniably be the end of their love story. She would not look back at Gabriel, not allow him to be pulled back into the depths of Hades. If there was a chance in a zillion for this to work, she would not be the one at fault.
“Just watch me walk away, okay?” she said again, a bit more teasingly though it sounded much too quixotic. Though he was not happy with her idea and wanted to cross the street and at least walk her to the building’s entrance, she remained adamant, so he had to finally agree. He stood up beside her and held her close, very close. Thair could feel him press into her and was ready to say, Screw it! Come back to my room, when other words escaped her lips: “It was really nice meeting you, Gabriel. I do hope to see you in a few days. But, if not, do take care. And I hope you find … ‘your wife’ one day.” The way she said this might have sounded facetious, but it was, in fact, genuine.
The next words out of his mouth were the most ridiculous of the entire night.
“Maybe I already have.”
29
Monday, July 25th
I need to get moving; otherwise I am tempted to go back to bed. I turn off my computer, but his face will not leave my mind. Gabriel is so different, yet so many things about him feel familiar. He is a little of all my loves rolled into one. He is a bit of James: compassionate, sensitive, someone who I could talk to for hours; a bit of Ravi: incredibly sexy, with a magnetism that was visceral and could not be qualified or quantified; and then he is a bit of my Jessica. The one who seemed to have it all. Would the one thing that kept me from Jessica be the one thing that Gabriel and I would also not agree upon? Would Gabriel tell me that he desired to have children one day? As I think about all this, I suddenly feel absolutely ridiculous. I just met this man for god sake! He is too young, lives too far away, and I will probably never see him again, so why am I torturing myself with these thoughts?
But last night, sitting quietly on a chair just to the side of a large plant, I watched him from my balcony while these and other tumultuous thoughts penetrated my mind. Finally, after about half an hour on the chaise lounge, he jumped up with an explosion of energy, took off his shirt, his jeans, was down to some tighty-whities, and took his dip after all. He swam a bit then just lay there, floating on his back in the water. With the light of the almost-full moon, I could see him perfectly. When he got out, I could tell he was a bit chilled. I was so tempted to go down and give him a towel, warm him with my embrace. At one point, I could feel him shiver. He put on his shirt, his jeans, looked up at the building, and I almost thought he saw me, but the blankness in his expression made me realize he hadn’t. He shook his head, and then he was off. I couldn’t sleep, so I spent hours remembering, reliving every detail of the night. Sleep finally claimed me in the early hours of the morning.
After eating a few crackers, drinking more water, looking at my yoga mat and thinking forget it, I move slowly to take a shower. My shoulders feel heavy, a Herculean numbness paradoxically weighs me down.
Gabriel and I had such fascinating conversation and intense chemistry, but a part of me wishes I had never met him. He seems too good to be true. I hate this feeling because it never lasts, yet something about him is so different. I finally force myself to stop this internal haranguing because my heart and mind are close to driving me insane. Just a month ago, I was telling Rick and my mom how satisfied I was with my life. Is today just a temporary low? How can I recapture my feelings of tranquility, confidence, security, and peace?
The room feels so small, and I need some fresh air. Despite my dark demeanor, it’s another gorgeous day. I am lying on the chaise lounge, and the beach is still packed since people don’t start leaving for lunch until around 2:00 p.m. I am trying to read my book but have read the same paragraph five times and still don’t know what it says. I stop and watch the kids play for a bit. They’re laughing. Happy.
I run my fingers over the white plastic chair. Just last night I was sitting on this chair with … words, an expression … crosses my mind that I dare not think. Push those words away. Those are the words of Zeus. Of fairy tales. Not of real life.
But I keep hearing those words that he said to me, those final words. Why would he say such a thing? Why would I even consider believing him? Did I not rebuff marriage a few times because it wasn’t right? So why did his words make my insides feel like mush? When picturing his face, why do I smile when all I feel is disturbed?
I decide that it’s time to get out of town, time to go see some of the sites that I had intended to visit. I go to the rental place at the end of town, and after some haggling, get myself a car. I want to leave tomorrow, but they don’t have any economical vehicles until Wednesday. After waiting this long, I know one more day won’t make a difference; I’m anxious and want to leave, need to move. But I will wait since there’s no choice. The car is booked, and I leave in two days. I won’t be here when Gabriel gets back to town; that is, even if he comes back this way. No more star-crossed lovers, I will go back to creating my own fun.
It’s only 6:00 p.m. and I am still antsy. I go to the OTE to call my mom. I have been trying for more than a week, but I just keep getting the answering machine. Last time we spoke, gosh weeks ago n
ow, she said she had a bad summer cold and was weak, so we spoke very briefly. I tend to worry, and almost four weeks without speaking normally would have concerned me, but the wonders of technology. I set her up with a Yahoo account and gave her my old computer, and since I have been getting emails from her every few days, I know there is no reason for alarm. She tells me she has been busy, gardening, running around with friends. It is a bit strange though, no concern or worry, just wishes for me to have a fabulous time.
On the other end, I hear the phone ringing and ringing, and when it’s just her voice on the answering machine again, I let out a deep sigh. I really wanted to talk to her today.
I decide to take a walk into town and go have a frappé and an ekmek. Kyrie Thanassis is happy to see me. We chat for a bit as he tells me his eldest daughter, the nubile twenty-year-old from the picture in his wallet, just got engaged, so I congratulate him. When the dessert comes, I poke at it with my fork, one bite, then the fork rests on the plate, another poke. I know it’s good but has nothing on the panna cotta from last night, and I really have no appetite, so I leave most of it on the plate to the chagrin of Kyrie Thanassis who comes over after a while, asking me if there is a problem. I explain that my stomach is not well, and he tells me I should not drink the coffee then either. He sounds more like a father than a waiter, but I do agree, so I leave both and ask him to just bring me some sparkling water. He doesn’t want to charge me, but I leave him the money for the entire bill and a good tip, too. My book sits miserably on the table. Riffling through some pages, staring at the words, I tap my feet against the table; needing to move, I get up and start walking. I make my way to the end of town and turn around, stopping aimlessly at shops, looking at nothing really.
I am back in my room around 9:00 p.m. I have this aching sense of aloneness that sits heavy in my gut. I’m also starving, so I ravenously inhale the two souvlakis with gyros I got at the tavern around the corner from my building. I drink almost a full liter of water in one long swig, then sit on my swing for a bit, so tired but not sleepy, wanting to go to bed, wanting to lose this feeling. I stare straight ahead for about an hour, then go into my tiny room and do something unorthodox for me. I search my suitcase for the small icon my mother gave me when I was a teenager, a wooden one with a picture of Mary holding a baby Jesus, the one that accompanies me when I travel, the one I carry more out of habit than for any religious purpose. After finding it, I place it under my pillow, and in a mantra-like fashion, I start repeating a Greek prayer I had also learned when I was young. Curling up in fetal position with the cool sheet resting on my body, I finally fall asleep.
The Greek Persuasion Page 26
