“Wrong question,” said Alex. “What I mean is, do youreallywant to learn to swim?”
“Yes.” I held onto my foam collar. Vampires wore high collars. Evil queens wore high collars. I needed an air of villainy if I was going to win this battle.
“Let go, Moti.” Alex’s hand was still outstretched.
I unhooked my safety net from around my neck and handed it to him.
“Thank you. Now just move your hands in the water. Feel it glide against your skin. That’s all.”
His words soothed the knot in my stomach. My core loosened. My breath started coming easier.
“It’s nice,” I said, adapting to the feel of water around me. My arms swished from side to side. The movement felt smooth and graceful. “I feel…lighter.”
“Good. Now crouch down until your lips are just above the surface. Keep your mouth closed. Yes. Like that. Now do it again, but see if you can get your mouth under the water this time. Just take little dips. You’re doing great. Can you go lower? Hold your breath and immerse your nose.”
I followed his instructions but came back up sputtering, shaking my head like a wet dog. “Water went in my ears.” The feeling of something moving around in my ear canal made me shudder.
Alex laughed as I pulled on my earlobes. “I think that’s enough for one night.”
I exited the pool and took the towel he held out for me. As he laid it around my shoulders, his fingers brushed against my skin. The rush of air that escaped me caught me off-guard. What the hell?
“Thank you for…” I tilted my head toward the pool.
Alex shrugged and returned my neck float as I dried off. “Just make sure I don’t catch you in there by yourself.”
The first time he saw me, I was drenched in shipyard waste from head to toe. Then he found me crawling under the bar, choking on a crumb of crostini. As far as Alex was concerned, I was a disaster waiting to happen. No telling what catastrophe I could spin if I decided to test the waters on my own. And he didn’t even know about Ma Anga’s dire prediction.
I’m going to get it, I thought, throwing a backward glance at the pool as we left.I’m going to learn. And before this trip is over, I’m going to swim in the sea.
Traitorous, lying, double-crossing, deceitful, devious…
I punched the words into my pillow as I tried to fall asleep. My insults did nothing to shut my stomach up. As far as it was concerned, my early dinner with Naani was a distant memory. Been there, digested that. No matter how much I tossed and turned, the beast refused to be silenced.
I tiptoed to the galley for the second night in a row. And for the second night in a row, a covered plate waited on the counter. I picked up the note—the handwriting familiar now.
Amygdalota (almond cookies)
Almond trees grow all over the Greek islands, but you don’t always find almonds in the market because gathering and shelling them is costly and time-consuming. I stole these from a friend’s orchard in Kea. There were just enough to make a small batch—scented with rose water and flavored with tangerine peel. Chewy, flourless, unbaked. I usually let them set for a few days, but they taste infinitely more vulnerable like this. They are traditionally served at weddings and baptisms, but rebel chefs sometimes pass them off as a midnight snack.
I laughed at the last part. Was I the only one who crept up here in the middle of the night, or did he leave these out to appease any hungry guests?
My stomach didn’t care. Half a dozen of the exquisite, white cookies were on the plate, each shaped like a tiny pear, with a clove bud piercing the tip. A dusting of powdered sugar made them look like they were covered in soft snow. It was almost a shame to ruin such a perfect arrangement, but I picked one up and bit into the tender morsel.
The rawness of it took me by surprise. Warm and sweet—the softness of a newborn babe, the brightness of citrus, the soul of roses. As Alex’s carefully molded creation came apart in my mouth, a fragment of bittersweet nostalgia surfaced through my awareness. I was a child again—pure and sure, before the world started chewing at my edges. Had Dolly cradled me then? Had she rocked me to sleep? Had she loved me then?
I put the rest of the cookie in my mouth, the rounded bottom half, and held it in the nest of my tongue. I wanted to keep it there, carry it safe in my mouth, but it grew smaller and smaller, dissolving bit by bit until it was all gone. My eyes spilled over, two fat tears rolling down my cheeks.
I pushed the plate away, discarding the clove I was still holding. Alex’s cooking was doing things to me. Strange, weird things. All my yearnings and burnings were eating and growing and taking form. His food was giving flesh to my feelings. Alex held the prism to the transcendental, and I filtered through in bands of rainbow emotions. Last night, pineapple and honey aroused me. Tonight, humble almond cookies made me want to curl up in my mother’s arms.
I wasn’t the only one succumbing to Alex’s food-spells. Dolly fainted upon seeing Fia, right after she devoured a plate of appetizers. Naani consumed a bowl of chickpea-and-onion stew and gave the whole world the finger. Joseph Uncle cradled his cake and poured his heart out in a way he’d never done before, starving for Rachel Auntie and Isabelle’s respect, ravenous for appreciation.
I put the cover back on the cookies and saved Alex’s note. His food spoke to us. It whispered to our deepest desires and stoked our deepest fears. Maybe it was my imagination, and maybe it wasn’t. Either way, I was determined to get to the bottom of it. At the same time, I couldn’t let Alex distract me from winning Niko’s heart. Time was ticking away, and Nikos was myonlychance to win Dolly’s approval. If I failed…
No. Failure was not an option. My whole life was at stake. The thought of crawling back to Chicago and having Dolly’s disappointment shadow me around, day in and day out, filled me with dread:He was right there, Moti. And you couldn’t even dothatright.
Well, Ma, guess what?I thought.I have a date with him tomorrow night. And I can’t wait to see your reaction when I tell you about it.
“Anight out with Nikos?” Isabelle shrieked. It was morning on the island of Syros, and we were boarding a private bus. Thomas and his parents wanted to give us a tour of the island before we departed for Mykonos.
