Danae looked at the coin in her hand, and her heart sank.
“I’ve got another little one on the way and what with the temple tithes going up...” The butcher scratched his bald head. “I hate to do it, but I’ve got no choice.”
“That’s all Ma gave me.” Danae held her head high. “But I’ll go home and get another. Here.” She held out the coin and her bag containing the chicken.
The pity in his eyes brought heat to her cheeks.
He took the coin and pushed back the chicken. “Just this once.”
Danae hoisted the bag onto her shoulder.
“I’m glad your sister’s home.”
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
The butcher cleared his throat and took up his cleaver. Relieved the interaction was over, she darted out of the shop.
3
Ripe Fruit
Six weeks later, on her way out to feed the goats, Danae discovered Philemon dithering on the doorstep. He wore a new red tunic, trimmed with gold stitching. It didn’t suit him.
They exchanged the sacred greeting.
“I’ve come to see Alea.” Proudly, he held up a small, cloth-wrapped parcel.
Danae sighed inwardly. Philemon had visited every week since Alea’s return. She couldn’t bear the thought of another afternoon spent listening to his dull stories and was about to tell him her sister was resting and he should come back tomorrow, when her mother appeared behind her.
“Philemon,” Eleni beamed. “Just one moment. Danae, entertain our guest while I ready Alea.”
The door shut behind her, and Danae was left standing nose to nose with her sister’s intended. He backed away and picked at the wrappings of his present at a safe distance.
They stood in silence for a while. Danae crossed her arms and scoured her mind for something polite to say. She settled on gesturing to the package in his hand.
“What’s that then?”
Philemon’s face stretched into a satisfied grin as he tapped the side of his nose. “Ah,ah. I don’t want you ruining the surprise.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“What I can tell you,” he conceded, “is that this is a very special gift, all the way from—”
“Athens?”
Philemon’s father owned a large olive grove and traded his produce in the city. From what she’d overheard of his conversations with Alea, Philemon endlessly went on about the latest fashion, the food and the superior culture. Apparently, even the air was sweeter in Athens.
A slight frown appeared between his brows. “Yes, actually.” He drew himself up. “I was there only yesterday on very important business with my father. I wish I could take Alea to see the new Temple of Athena. It really is the most stunning building. Did you know it took ten years to complete? The friezes alone were...”
His words became a drone in her ears. What really irritated her wasn’t that he was boring, monopolized Alea’s time or turned into a gibbering jellyfish whenever his father was around, but that he got to go to the mainland. When Danae was younger, she loved going out on her father’s boat and helping him sell his catch at Naxos Port. But her mother put a stop to all that. Young women on Naxos didn’t leave their huts, except to do washing in the river and run errands in the village. And they definitely didn’t get to go to Athens.
They were saved further interaction by her mother opening the door and ushering Philemon inside. Danae went to follow him, but Eleni stretched out an arm and blocked her way.
“Give them some privacy.” From behind her back she produced a broken wicker basket. “Make yourself useful and mend this.”
Danae took the basket and glowered at her. “You’re staying inside then?”
“Of course. I’m her mother.”
