The Summer House in Santorini

by Samantha Parks

  From across the room, she saw her escort amidst the mass of white tee shirts, leaning against the wall and laughing at something one of the other guys had said. He was holding a burger, and, as he took a massive bite out of it, he caught her eye and winked. She felt herself tense everywhere, and her cheeks went red. She tried to remind herself of the ordeal she had endured at his hand to get here, but still she smiled when he started walking toward her.

  “Hungry?” he asked as he walked up, grabbing a spare burger the delivery guy had left on the table and offering it to her.

  She hadn’t eaten McDonald’s since she was a kid; her father had taken her after school a few times, but her mother had forbidden it once he’d left, and the habit had stuck once she’d moved to Manhattan. Plus, who needed fast-food restaurants when there was a twenty-four-hour falafel cart less than a block from her building? But she was hungry, so she took the burger from him and unwrapped it, relishing the smell of the salty beef as it hit her nose.

  “It’s the least you can do,” she said before sinking her teeth into the burger.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You made me drag my bags all the way across the island, ignoring me the whole time,” she replied, her mouth full. “If I hadn’t been able to keep up, I would still be lost out there.”

  He rolled his eyes. “First of all, the airport is not on the other side of the island. Second, you made it just fine, didn’t you?”

  “No thanks to you,” she said, but she smiled despite herself. “I’m Anna,” she said, sticking out her hand.

  “I know, I picked you up from the airport,” he said, shaking his head.

  Anna retracted her hand. “I remember, but I was giving you a chance to introduce yourself properly.”

  “Ah, okay,” he said, wiping his hand on his pants before extending it. Based on their state, Anna wasn’t sure it would do any good. “Nikolas Doukas.”

  Anna swapped her burger to her left hand and shook Nikolas’s hand with her right. She felt the same tension as she had at the airport, but she managed to shake hands fairly naturally this time. “Nice to meet you, Nikolas,” she replied, trying her best to emulate the accent in which he pronounced his name.

  He chuckled in response.

  “What?”

  “For someone who’s half-Greek, your accent is terrible,” he said.

  “Well, what am I supposed to do about that?”

  “You can call me Nikos. Everybody else does.”

  “Nikos,” she said, much more naturally. “How’s that?”

  “Much better.” He was still holding her hand, and he shook it again. “Listen, I’m sorry I didn’t help you with your bags. Here in Greece, our women can carry their own luggage.”

  “Yeah, because Greece is so famous for its progressive feminism,” Anna said, rolling her eyes.

  “Yeah, well, we’re making up for lost time,” Nikos said, tilting his head. “You’re here about the summer house, right?”

  “Yeah, just to get it signed over and maybe on the market.”

  Nikos chuckled. “On the market? In a week? You’ll certainly have your work cut out for you.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You’ll see,” Nikos said with a dismissive wave. “Tomorrow is my day off. I’ll come by and help you out.”

  Anna nodded. “I don’t know how much help I’ll need, but sure. You can make up for today.”

  Nikos laughed and nodded. “I have to get back to work in a moment, but help yourself to some more food. Kostas brought more than enough with him.” Then he touched her lightly on the shoulder and left.

  Alone now, she looked around her, seeing people’s eyes flicker over to her and then away again. She leaned against the wall eating her burger, but no one came to speak to her. In fact, people actively avoided her as they moved around the room, giving her a wide berth.

  A woman came through the door, a Serious Business Woman with a white blouse, stilettos and a power-bob haircut. She looked around the room, greeting some of the guys, then spotted Anna.

  “Hello,” she said, walking up with her arm outstretched. Anna set her burger down to shake her hand. “I’m Xenia.”

  “Anna Linton.”

  “Nice to meet you, Anna. What are you doing in my staff room?”

  Anna looked around. “I’m here with my grandfather,” she said, “Christos Xenakis. Nikos brought me here.”

  “Oh, you’re Giorgos’s daughter!” she said, smiling. “I heard you were coming. Welcome to Santorini, and to Kamari Sands Resort.”

  “Thanks, it’s my first time here,” she said. “Are you the manager here?”

  “I own it, actually. Family business. Just bringing it into the twenty-first century, which is why these guys are here.” She gestured to the workmen all around the room.

  “Nice,” Anna said. “Very impressive.”

  “So, what brings you to the island for the first time?”

  “Well…” Anna said, rubbing her hands together, “how much do you know about my parents?”

  “Not much,” Xenia said, shaking her head. “I mean, I knew your dad, but only casually.”

  “Well, my parents met here while my mom was traveling, then she got pregnant and they moved back to Connecticut, where my mom is from. My mom had my sister and then me, and Giorgos had a string of affairs, so my mom kicked him out and he lost his green card. When he died a few months ago, he left me and my sister his house, apparently. So I’m here to sell it.”

  Xenia nodded and inhaled sharply. Anna had definitely given too much information, but she wasn’t sure when she’d have another opportunity to talk to someone from Santorini who wasn’t already on Giorgos’s side.

  “Question for you,” Anna said, changing the subject. “Does everyone speak such good English? Nikos does too, but not my grandfather.”

  Xenia shrugged. “It differs, but Nikos and I both went abroad for college. I went to Dartmouth in New Hampshire, and he went somewhere in the UK, I think.”

  Anna nodded, stifling a yawn; she would have to get a nap in at some point.

  “You’ll be fine,” Xenia said with a smile. “Besides, your grandmother’s English is excellent. Now don’t hold off on your lunch on my account. I’ll see you later.”

  “Thanks, see you later,” Anna said as Xenia left. The guys were starting to filter out, so she grabbed a seat at the table and ate the rest of her burger. There was an order of fries on there, too, so she ate that as well. Afterwards, she sat there for another fifteen minutes or so until her grandfather walked back into the room.

  “Anna!” he shouted, just like he had when he first saw her. She would have to get used to that. “You eat?”

  Anna nodded. “Yes, yes, I ate,” she replied, getting up and walking over to him. “Now where is your home?” she asked, putting both her arms over her head like a roof when he frowned, clearly not getting it. Finally, his eyes lit up with understanding.

  “Home!” he said, just as enthusiastically as he had said her name. “Wait,” he added, holding up both hands, and left the room again.

  Already getting used to her grandfather’s disappearing/reappearing acts, Anna decided she would simply wait for him to return again. So, as the room fully emptied of Greek men, leaving behind wrappers and bags and stray fries, Anna sat back down at the table and put her head down.

  An undetermined amount of time later, a hand shook Anna awake.

  “Who’s there?” she asked, opening her eyes and looking around, feeling a throbbing pain in her neck. How long had she been asleep? As she turned, she saw a woman, maybe in her sixties or seventies, stood behind her with her arms folded across her chest. She wore a navy floral dress with a wide collar and a white apron tied around her plump waist. Her greying hair was secured in a bun with a pencil. She looked like every grandmother from every storybook ever. Which was fitting, since Anna knew from Lizzy’s photos that this woman was her grandmother.

  “Hi, Eirini,
” Anna said, unsure of how much she would understand. “We go home?”

  “Yes, we’ve been ready to go for twenty minutes now,” she said, surprising Anna with her perfect English. “Christos is more patient than I am. If you’re coming with us, please do so now.”

  Anna nodded, standing up, grabbing her bags and following Eirini back down the corridor and out the front door. The sun was now low in the sky; Anna must have napped for hours. No wonder her neck hurt. A white pickup truck sat just outside, with Christos in the driver’s seat. Eirini motioned to the back, where tools and building materials crowded the bed.

  “You want me to sit back there?” Anna asked, peering over the edge and trying to find an empty spot big enough for her to sit.

  “No, of course not. Just throw your bags in the back and sit between Christos and me.” Eirini sighed and stood with the door open.

  Anna smiled feebly and nodded, placing her duffel and her roller bag as carefully as possible in the back, but a tool fell loose anyway and clattered about a bit. Anna looked up at Eirini, who was rolling her eyes at Christos.

  Eirini then ushered Anna into the cab of the truck, squeezing in next to her, pushing her further and further across the bench until she was pressed up against Christos, who just smiled at her with both his hands on the steering wheel.

  As they pulled away from the resort, Anna saw the view out over the island for the first time. She could now see clearly the roads of Kamari that had walled her in before, all of them pointing toward the azure sea. It wasn’t the Santorini she had pictured, with winding paths that cut between white stone houses with domed blue roofs that blended in with the sky. But as they wound through farmland and vineyards, she thought it was beautiful nonetheless. She wondered what the view would be like from the summer house. And as they started up a hill and the airport came into view in the distance, Anna remembered how she had ended up in Santorini to begin with.

  2

  Four days earlier, Manhattan

  Until that moment, the worst moment of Anna’s life had been the night just after New Year’s when she’d found out her father had died. Her mother had mentioned it in passing, right in between a summary of the previous weekend’s yoga retreat and an interrogation of Anna’s dating life. The news that her father, the man who had given her life, had dropped dead of a heart attack was apparently on the same level as how well the other middle-aged faux yogis could hold a downward dog.

  Not that they had been close, of course, Anna and her father. At least not recently. He had left when Anna was six, riding away in a taxi as Anna’s mother had screamed down the street after him, yelling all sorts of names and insults, the white of her satin robe fluttering in the darkness as the wind caught it and tore it open. Anna’s big sister, Lizzy, eight at the time, held Anna close as she watched from the window and called down to her mama. Lizzy thought Anna was screaming because she was sad and scared but, really, she just wanted to tell her mother that her robe was open, and neighbors were starting to peek through their windows at the commotion. She had wondered for twenty years how someone could be so angry and embarrassed and in pain that they stood in the street with a boob out without realizing it.

  But now, as Anna stood on Fifth Avenue, looking up at the third-story window of the man who was both her boss and her lover and saw another woman pressed against it, him behind her, both of them naked, faces twisted up in passion and agony and pleasure, Anna understood. She could be in a bathrobe, flapping open in the breeze, the whole of Manhattan staring at her, and she wouldn’t be able to think anything but, “You fool. You fool, you fool, you ABSOLUTE FOOL.” Like a mantra of disbelief, it kept coming.

  She was devastated, but not for the reason she should have been. Marcus, the man she had been seeing for over a year, was fucking another woman right in front of her. Unknowingly, of course, but that didn’t make it any less jarring. But staring up at their bodies squished against the window, leaving sweat marks on the glass, she felt defeated. She felt worthless. She didn’t mean anything to him. She had had no delusions of romance, but it wasn’t until that moment that she understood exactly what she was to him: convenient.

  When Anna had been five years old, she’d been chosen as the “Model Student” of her kindergarten class for the month of May. This meant that she was kind to her classmates, did well on assignments, and was the first to volunteer for things. To be honest, she wasn’t actually that social; she was quite shy, even as a child. A new Model Student was chosen every month, and there were only twelve children in her class. Eliminate the ones who got in trouble a lot, and Anna was pretty much guaranteed the title at some point in the year, regardless of how bold or social she actually was.

  But that didn’t matter to five-year-old Anna. She brought her shiny yellow ribbon home that day and presented it proudly to her parents as she walked through the front door after school. Her father, Giorgos – the girls called him Baba, but their mother always introduced him as George – scooped her into a hug and tossed her in the air, spinning her around and cheering. Grace, Anna’s mother, simply said “well done” and poured herself another glass of wine.

  Anna asked if she could hang the ribbon on the refrigerator, but her mother said that that space was only for important things to remember. Giorgos had looked coolly at his wife, but then nuzzled Anna’s hair and smiled. “What your mother means, my darling, is that the refrigerator is for boring things, and your award is anything but boring. Why don’t we go hang it somewhere in your room?”

  The next morning, Anna’s mother had left for work without saying a word to any of them. Giorgos had piled Anna, Lizzy, and their school things into his painter’s van like always to take them to school. But when they got there, he’d told Anna to stay put; that he wanted to talk to her.

  “Baba, what’s wrong? Am I in trouble?” Anna asked, watching her sister walk into the building.

  But as soon as Lizzy was inside, Giorgos took Anna to the local breakfast chain for as many chocolate chip pancakes as she could handle. “Model Students get celebratory breakfasts,” he said, taking a bite of his short stack and putting his arm around Anna, who was sat on the stool next to him, still barely able to reach the counter. As he chewed, a bit of syrup dripped out of his mouth and down his face. Anna pointed and laughed. Her father pretended to be confused before leaning in and planting a big kiss on Anna’s cheek, rubbing the syrup in and tickling her with his beard.

  After they ate, Giorgos drove Anna back to school and dropped her off at the front door with a note saying she had been at a dentist appointment. Anna was about to ask why they were lying if Model Students were allowed celebratory breakfasts, but when she looked up at her Baba, he looked so sad, so she just gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek and went inside.

  A couple of weeks later, just after Anna’s sixth birthday, Giorgos was kicked out of the house, and Lizzy held Anna back as they watched from the window. Their mother would cite this incident of skipping school, alongside temperamental outbursts and a string of affairs she had discovered, in the ensuing divorce and custody battle that would result in Giorgos being sent back to Greece. Grace had never taken the last name Xenakis, and as soon as the divorce was finalized, she changed her daughters’ names to Linton to match her own. Anna and Lizzy would never see their father again.

  Anna had a difficult time coming to terms with her father’s infidelity. It didn’t make sense to her. “Baba loves us,” she told her mother. “He would never do anything like that. He would never hurt us.”

  “You’re a child,” Grace had said. “One day, you’ll understand just what a man will do, and then they’ll never be able to surprise you with how terrible they can be. But until then, you’ll just have to trust me.”

  Standing on the sidewalk outside Marcus’s apartment, her mantra repeating in her mind, Anna finally understood what her mother meant. She did not love this man. She did not have a family with him. But as she watched him through the window, as she felt her world crumb
ling around her, she began to feel, for the first time, as her mother must have felt: discarded.

  Half an hour later, Anna slammed her bedroom door shut and slumped against it, the tears finally coming. She had probably woken her roommate, but she didn’t care. She had been fighting back the tears the entire subway ride home, and she was at her breaking point. She tried and failed to push out of her mind the image of what she had seen, but it stayed front and center as she wept.

  It wasn’t even the fact that Marcus was sleeping with someone else. Anna had known as soon as she started seeing him that their relationship wasn’t a monogamous thing. It had been borderline cliché, the way they had hooked up at an opening just over a year before. She had been working at the gallery for months, but it was the first time she had spoken to Marcus, the gallery’s owner and world-famous photographer. Well, as world-famous as a photographer could be, anyway. To Anna, who had studied photography in college and been working for years trying to get a job at a gallery, he may as well have been Chris Hemsworth. She nearly died when he walked up to her at the event, and within a couple of hours they were in a hotel room.

  No, the awful thing for Anna had been watching her future crumble with every thrust. Anna was just a gallery assistant, and one with ambitions to become a photographer at that. Girls like her were a dime a dozen for Marcus. And despite the fact that she had worked for years to get a job at MarMac, if she wasn’t useful to him anymore, she would simply be cast aside for the next girl waiting in the wings. At least, that’s what she feared. After a few minutes, Anna crawled up onto her bed, settling on top of a pile of clean laundry, tears still streaming down her cheeks, images of that woman’s boobs pressed against Marcus’s window burned into her mind, and cried herself to sleep.