I stayed like that for a long time, partly because it felt far too good to stop, but mostly because I was reluctant to head back to shore, back to the gravity of my body, my life, my choices.
But as I allowed myself to float some more I thought:
Maybe I’m still overthinking everything. Maybe I’m still trying to control stuff that’s out of my control. Maybe I should act the same way on land as I do in the sea, learn to let go, to aim for what I want without trying to force it so much. Just see where the current leads me, since it’s not like I’m not a good swimmer, it’s not like I can’t find my way back to shore.
And when I climbed out of the water and headed for my towel, I told Tally I was ready to head back home and prepare for my going away.
By the time we got back, Tassos was already there, marinating the meats, chopping vegetables, peeling potatoes, and basically handling all of the party prep duties. So after taking a quick shower and changing into a new dress I bought in town a few days before (a day which will forever be known as
CONDOM DAY
), I headed outside to help.
And while I was setting the tables and rearranging the chairs, I happened to mention how sorry I was about his daughter.
At first, with the way he looked at me, his eyes so startled and wide, I immediately regretted bringing it up. But then he nodded slowly and said, “Tally told you?”
I nodded. “But please don’t be mad, because—”
But he just shook his head. “I’m not mad, Colby.”
And as I started lighting the candles, he put on a Jackson Browne CD, and then I turned to him again and said, “Do you blame yourself?”
And even though he just shrugged, it was obvious he did.
I held the match, watching as the flame crept near my fingers, inching dangerously close before I shook it out and said, “Well, you shouldn’t.”
He looked at me and smiled. “I know.”
And even though I should’ve just let it end there, I had something more to say, so I looked at him and added, “I just want you to know that you and Tally have really helped me this summer.”
Then his eyes grew wet and mine started to sting, so I started slicing potatoes as he turned to prepare the salad.
It wasn’t long after that when all the guests started arriving, and even though it still surprises me to write this (never mind having lived it), I’m proud to say that this time I made sure both Maria and Christina were invited. I guess I just didn’t see the point in trying to keep them away. And even though we didn’t exactly hang out together, and even though they were probably pretty happy that it was my
GOING-AWAY
party, it just didn’t matter anymore.
So after way too much food, a good amount of dancing, a little bit of drinking, and an endless amount of laughing, I hugged every single person good-bye (yes, including Maria and Christina), and after they’d gone, Tally and Tassos hugged me and Yannis good night, then Tally looked at me and said, “Stay up as long as you want. But just remember you have a ferry to catch in the morning.”
Then they both went to bed, and Yannis and I remained on the terrace, both of us acting so weird and nervous that any casual observer would swear we’d just met.
“Well, that was a fun party,” he said, smiling at me in this polite, formal way.
“Yes it was,” I answered, feeling inexplicably awkward, then adding, “a really fun party.” Which made me roll my eyes, shake my head, and cringe.
“Should we go for a ride?” he finally asked, his voice sounding thick and uncertain, suspended in silence.
I nodded, my stomach feeling all jumpy and weird as he reached for my hand, my eyes searching his face when I asked, “To our beach?”
But he just smiled and helped me climb onto the back of his Vespa.
This time when we ended up at the hotel, I can’t say I was all that surprised, but when he led me up to the pool, I was surprised to see it filled.
“Want to go for a swim?” he asked, busying himself with lighting the large, oversize lanterns that were scattered all around.
“I forgot my suit,” I said, kneeling down near the edge, dipping my fingers into the water, surprised to find it cool, but inviting.
“That didn’t stop you before.” He smiled, blowing out the match now that the candles were all lit.
And even though I still hadn’t made up my mind about exactly how the night would end, I also knew I should stop thinking about it, and just see where it led.
So I pulled off my dress and dove right in. And not five seconds later, Yannis had joined me.
We swam, and played, and kissed, and swam some more, and by the time we’d climbed out and were wrapped in large towels, he took one look at me and said, “You look just like you did the day I first saw you, only happier.”
And when I rubbed my towel over my face and saw how it came away all streaked with mascara, I couldn’t help but laugh.
Then he grabbed my hand and led me through the lobby, and up a narrow stairway to a large second-floor suite. And when he opened the door and motioned me inside, I saw there were more candles, a CD player, and a fully made bed.
“I didn’t realize you’d finished all the rooms,” I said, going over to part the dark blue drapes, gazing out at what should’ve been the view if the night hadn’t been so dark.
“They’re not finished,” he said, coming up behind me and nuzzling the back of my neck. “Only this one.”
“But what about your parents? Won’t they get mad?” I asked, knowing how traditional the Greeks could be, trying not to think about getting caught.
But he just shrugged. “It’s different for boys. If I was a girl, then yes, it would be a problem.”
“Is that why I haven’t met your parents?” I asked, thinking it was a weird time to be having this conversation, but still, I was nervous, unsure, and it was something I’d been wondering anyway. “Because they wouldn’t approve of me?” I continued, wondering if he’d answer honestly, or just try to hedge and stall and beat around the bush.
But he just laughed. “You have met my parents. Well, you’ve met my father, you just didn’t know it.”
I turned to look at him, my mind racing, trying to recall when that could’ve been.
“The day you came to the hotel to yell at me.” He smiled.
“Which one was your father?” I asked, remembering the group of workers, how they’d laughed and elbowed each other when I’d asked where he was, all of them too young to be his dad. Well, all except for one.
“He brought you to me.”
“Oh, great.” I closed my eyes and turned away. “That’s just great. No wonder you never bothered to introduce me to your mother.” I shook my head, wondering if his dad had eavesdropped by the door, listening to every stupid thing I’d said. “So, go ahead, lay it on me, what did he say? What was the verdict? Does he think I’m a freak?” I held my breath and waited.
“Does it matter?” Yannis asked, whispering the words in my ear.
I just shrugged, even though I was beginning to think that it did.
He sighed. “Well, if you really must know, he told me that I should be careful with you. That I should have fun, but be careful.”
“Careful of what?” I asked, turning to look at him again.
“He said you might try to get pregnant and wreck my life.”
I rolled my eyes. “Please, did you tell him that
I’m
the one who bought the condoms? Oh wait, never mind, I’m sure he already knows, heck, all of Tinos knows.”
Yannis shrugged. “I told you things are different here, relationships aren’t so—casual as where you live. Here, when two people date, everyone starts talking about marriage. It’s better not to bring anyone home until things are serious.”
I looked away, torn between worrying that we were just a casual summer fling, one that he’d soon forget, and wondering if I really wanted it to be anything more.
Then I looked at him and asked, “Are we casual?”
But he just smiled and pulled me toward the bed, his lips moving softly against my ear as he whispered, “Come with me,
koukla mou
.”
August 31
Dear Mom and Dad,
You may notice that this letter is written on a coffee-stained Ellas Ferry Lines napkin (not unlike a previous note I sent several months ago). Well, that’s because I’m on the ferry to Mykonos. So that I can then fly to Athens, so that I can then fly to Frankfurt, so that I can then fly to New York, so that I can then land in L.A., so that you can then pick me up and drive me home.
But unlike my last napkin letter, this one is not angry.
In fact, it’s not even close.
Because believe it or not, I’m actually looking forward to seeing you (an event that will happen long before you receive this, but I’m mailing it anyway), so that I can thank you for packing me up and shipping me off to spend the summer with my CRAZY AUNT TALLY in Tinos.
It was an amazing experience.
Love,
Colby
P.S. Mom, just so you know, the ONLY reason I’m sending this to Dad’s address and not to yours is because I know we’ll be moving soon and I’m not sure if you’ve started forwarding the mail yet, and since I don’t want this to get lost…Anyway, that is the one and only reason, and I just wanted you to know that so you won’t think I’m playing favorites. Hope this part of the note doesn’t upset you, I just wanted to make myself clear.
Colby’s Journal for Desperate Times When She’s Stuck at 37,000 Feet and There Is No Internet Access and She’s Almost Out of Paper
August 31
I tried, I really, really tried. But somehow I still ended up on this airplane, in seats 24G and H (got two to my self! Yipee!), far enough away from the bathroom that I don’t have to suffer that pervasive Godawful smell, but still next to the window so that I can lift my shade and look out at—
EVERYTHING!
Because even though each passing second takes me farther and farther from where I’d really rather be, there’s just something so cool about looking out at the sun and the moon and the endless blue sky and thinking—
That’s the same sky Yannis sees!
That’s the same sun that warms both our skin!
And every night when we go outside, we can both look up and gaze at the exact same moon! (Granted, ten hours apart.)
All of which means we’re not as far apart as it seems. That no matter where I end up, no matter where I go from here, in some vast, eternal way, we’ll always be connected.
And even though I’d give just about anything to be with him now, I’m also determined to be perfectly okay with my choices—even the ones that are made for me.
Like last night, when Yannis and I slept together. In the end, we didn’t
ACTUALLY
sleep together.
And it’s not like I didn’t want to, and it’s not like I wasn’t ready, because I was. In fact, I really,
REALLY
wanted to, and I really did feel ready. And without being too graphic, I think I can say that he was ready too.
And even though I’d made up my mind to go through with it, even though I’d convinced myself that the time was perfectly right, at this one point, when we were lying on our sides, facing each other, he brought his hand to my cheek, tucked my hair behind my ear, looked straight into my eyes and said, “
S’agapo,
Colby.”
And unlike the last time when I wasn’t at all ready to hear it, much less feel it or share it, I gazed right back at him, and said, “I love you too, Yannis.”
And somehow, just allowing myself to not only hear the words, but also to accept them, and say them right back, felt so huge, so monumental, and so overwhelmingly good—that I just wanted to hold on to it. I wanted to keep it, and savor it, and enjoy it for what it was.
And I didn’t want it to compete with anything else.
And even though it probably sounded pretty weird and stupid when I tried to explain that to him, he just pulled me into his arms, pressed his lips to my forehead, and assured me it was plenty enough for him too.
Then we slept, all wrapped up in each other’s arms, and I felt so good, and so safe, and so complete, that I didn’t wake up until it was way, way late.
“Oh my God! Oh crap!” I yelled, jumping out of bed and frantically pulling on my dress. Not realizing I was wearing it backward ’til I started shoving my feet in my shoes.
“Yannis! Get up!” I cried, shaking his shoulder, before searching the room for my purse. “You have to take me to the port! No! Wait! You have to take me home so Tally and Tassos can take me to the port! Only, you’re coming too, right?” I stopped long enough to look at him, hoping that my mascara-streaked face, backward dress, and fright-wig hair would not be his very last impression of me.
But Yannis was already dressed, his keys in one hand, funky, weird sandals in the other, as he opened the door, smiled, and said, “Relax, it’s no worries.”