My Sexy Greek Summer. Marie Donovan
right, you used to crew on sailboats before you moved to Michigan. Getting paid to sail the ocean blue must have been a great gig.”
“I did travel all over—California, Mexico, the Caribbean, even once around Corfu—that’s one of the western Greek islands more influenced by Italy.” She changed the subject hurriedly. “Anyway, we should go sailing if we have time. Maybe Athena has a cousin who can take us out on the water.”
“Great! Speaking of Athena, isn’t she expecting us now?” Emma checked her leather-banded watch.
Cara laughed. “You may as well take that thing off. Greek time doesn’t work the same as American time. Athena is expecting us sometime this afternoon. And if we don’t show up until evening, she’ll just feed us then.”
Emma set down her empty bottle. “Greek time or no, I want to go explore the town. Ready?”
Cara nodded and followed, grabbing her wide-brimmed hat and sunglasses. She locked the villa and they descended the narrow stone stairs down to street level. “Athena’s house is only supposed to be a half mile away. If we get lost, everyone knows where she lives.”
It was a slow half mile, with Emma stopping frequently to admire the cobalt-blue front doors and shutters and masses of pink and purple flowers. When they emerged into the sun from the shadowed back streets, Cara popped her hat and sunglasses on.
Emma glanced over at her. “You’re not going to get any color at all if you keep bundling up.” She tipped her face up to the blazing afternoon sun and chuckled happily.
“And you are going to spend your vacation crying on the couch from sun poisoning. This isn’t Michigan, you know. The sun is much stronger and you get a triple dose when it bounces off the water and sand.”
“I don’t suppose there’s any way we can pass for locals anyway, is there?” Emma sent her a teasing glance.
“Not many redheaded Greek women out there.” Cara smiled at her friend. She could have been the county fair Corn Queen for her Midwestern looks, a far cry from the supertanned blond beach bunny often spotted at topless beaches around the country.
Emma said theatrically, “Alas, alas, I’ll just have to be the legendary American co-ed on summer vacation.” She looked around in delight. They were now in the center of town and passing quaint tavernas and sidewalk cafés. “But I thought there’d be more people around. You did say summers were crowded in the Cyclades.”
Cara studied the scene, spotting cameras and white limbs sticking out from shorts and tank tops. “The locals are probably home napping. They often have a siesta time, especially in the summer. Everybody else is a tourist.”
“Including us.” Emma laughed. “But we have to hit the club tonight. On a Friday night it should be pretty lively, right?”
“Definitely.” Seemed as if they were in for a girls’ night out. Emma wasn’t used to Greek guys and didn’t speak more than five words of the language. Cara snickered to herself. Too bad Cara didn’t have the long black clothes and black beady glare typical of an old widowed aunt protecting her naive charge from the big, bad men of the world.
“Doesn’t that sound fun, Cara?”
Actually, it did. Cara had loved going out on the town, particularly to a raucous Greek nightspot. “Sure, but don’t forget we’re still getting over jet lag.”
“Yes, Mother. Wait, how do you say that in Greek?”
“Ne, meetéra.”
Emma repeated it with an accent awful enough to make Cara groan. “Let’s practice your Greek after lunch.”
Emma waved her hand. “No thanks, I’ll practice on one of those Greek men tonight.”
“And they’ll be happy to let you.” Cara turned a corner and checked her directions. “Here we are.” Suddenly sick with anxiety, she pressed her hand against her stomach. She’d never been good around illness, and Athena was one of her best friends.
“Easy, Cara.” Emma must have picked up on her panic. “Take a couple deep breaths and we’ll see how she is.” Emma reached around her and knocked on the door. “I wonder why all the doors and window shutters are painted blue.”
“To keep out the Evil Eye,” Cara replied automatically, clicking back into tour guide mode. “It all dates to ancient times….” She continued talking until Demetria threw open the door and beckoned them into the narrow stone-tiled foyer.
“Karoleena, is that really you?” She pulled Cara to her bosom, kissing her heartily on each cheek. “Your hair, it’s so red and—how you say?—fluffy?”
“Emma, this is Demetria, Athena’s daughter-in-law,” Cara called to her friend as Demetria fussed over her.
“Oh, look at you! So round and healthy!” Demetria eyed Cara’s breasts and hips, which had expanded a bit since they last met. “You’re eating now!”
Time to change the subject. “Demetria, this is my friend Emma Taylor. She was kind enough to come to Aphrodisias with me.”
“Emma!” Demetria fell on a startled Emma with the same fervor with which she’d greeted Cara. After kissing Emma on the cheeks, she pulled back. “Another lovely girl! And so fair!” She pinched Emma’s cheek. “The boys here will love you. If only my son Spiro wasn’t away for the summer. A pretty blond American—he’ll be heartbroken he missed you.”
“Demetria…” an old voice quavered from a room beyond.
“Is that Athena?” Cara tried to control her nervousness, meanwhile, Demetria’s cheerful expression had turned grim.
“Yes. We’re coming,” she called. “Mother has been anxious to see you.” She ushered them into a sitting room where Athena lay on a couch, swathed in blankets.
Cara bit back a gasp. Her old friend looked terrible, pale and shadowed. “Oh, Athena, how are you?” She reached for Athena’s hand, and Athena grasped hers with surprising strength.
“Better, now that you are here.”
Cara looked over her shoulder at Demetria for confirmation. Demetria nodded. “It’s a miracle how much better she is.”
Athena let out a little moan and Cara spun back to her. “I’m glad to see you again,” she said soothingly. “And Aphrodisias is even more beautiful than you described.”
Athena nodded. “My birthplace, the place I knew I would return to in my old age. The place to fulfill my dream of a museum of Greek island weaving and other women’s arts.”
“When you feel better, you can work on your project.”
Athena’s black eyes went wide. “I was just about to purchase the perfect property when I fell and broke my hip. I was at the market and stepped on an olive. An olive, I tell you! I have been walking on my own two feet for over sixty-five years and a miserable olive trips me.” She lapsed into Greek and muttered several imprecations against that hapless squished fruit.
Emma looked blankly at Cara and Cara shrugged. Those weren’t words Emma needed to practice for polite conversation. “Emma, come meet my friend Athena.”
Cara made the introductions and Emma shook Athena’s hand gently. “Thank you for inviting me to come with Cara. I have nothing but the highest respect for the Greek land and its wonderful history of mathematics.”
Athena nodded regally, accepting all honors to Euclid, Pythagorus & Co. as her due. “Would you like to see Demetria’s lovely garden? The flowers are beautiful, thanks to a wet spring.”
Emma agreed and followed Demetria toward the end of the house, leaving Cara and Athena together.
Athena continued in Greek. “Karoleena, your friend speaks Greek?”
“Oxi.”