“Come on,” he says, his eyes on his phone. “We’ll head straight to the villa. You can unpack while I have a meeting with one of my producers. Then the staff should have dinner ready for us, and we can get an early night before our hike tomorrow.”
I frown. “We’re not going out for dinner?”
“We should really rest up and catch up on sleep.”
The town car driver opens the back door. James gives him a nod before climbing in the backseat. When I don’t immediately follow, he looks expectantly at me.
“The staff will bring our luggage,” he explains. “We don’t have to wait.”
I sigh. “Okay.”
I should've expected that even on vacation, James would be a slave to his schedule. Just days ago, he told me he wasn't spontaneous. He hasn’t even put on his vacation clothes—he’s still wearing a suit, button-up, and tie. It’s another reminder that our enjoyment is on a schedule.
Our car moves smoothly over the island’s winding roads. While James's eyes are glued to his phone, I take in the remarkable scenery. I've seen photos of the Greek islands before, but I always assumed that they were somewhat Photoshopped. The sky and the buildings couldn’t really be such an intense contrast of blue and white, I thought—but I was wrong. The contrast is only made more beautiful by the bright bougainvillea snaking over the whitewashed houses. Every so often, I can make out the Aegean Sea glittering in the distance.
It's a short drive from the airport to the village just outside our villa. The car slows down as we move through the village streets. My eyes eagerly take in the mudbrick houses, the small domed churches, the cobbled streets.
Our car stops so a woman can lead her actual donkey across the street, and I catch sight of a tiny café just ahead of us. Its hand-painted signs and mismatched metal chairs are so charming, I can’t stop myself.
“Stop the car!” I gasp.
James’s head whips up. “Is something wrong?”
“No, I just want to stop there for a coffee.” I point to the café, and he frowns.
“We don’t have time, Maura.”
“Please? It'll be quick.”
He examines my pleading expression and sighs. “This isn't on the schedule.”
“I know. That's what makes it exciting.”
“I don't find deviation from schedules exciting. I find it stressful.”
“James. We're in Greece. On our honeymoon. If you can't deviate from a schedule here, where can you?”
He's quiet for a moment. “The café does look sort of nice…”
“Was that…was that you admitting I'm right?”
“It was me admitting the café looks nice. Don't push it.”
I mime zipping my lips.
“You can stop the car,” he orders the driver, and I practically leap out of the backseat.
The warm sun seeps into my skin, and the scent of the flowering magenta tree beside me lights up my senses. This place is everything I hoped for and more.
A bell tingles as I open the door of the café. It's small inside, with a display case of pastries and a coffee bar set up behind the counter. The menu written in chalk on the wall is in Greek, and I have no idea what it says. The customers in line just in front of me are chattering away with the woman behind the counter in Greek. Oh, well. If she can't tell me what's on the menu, I guess I'll have to point randomly and hope it's not something too bitter.
When the other customers leave, I step up to the register.
“Hi, do you speak English?” I ask.
The woman behind the counter nods. “Yes. How can I help you?” Her voice is only lightly accented.
“Do you have anything that's like caramel latte, but decaf?”
