“Their English is coming along quick,” Joy appraised.
“I think that’s probably due more to George than me,” Skye said. “They have far more desire to talk to him, and he’s picked up a lot of Greek from Theo, which makes it easier.”
“You’ll make a teacher out of him yet,” Joy replied. “I’d be willing to bet there are loads of Greek kids on this island who would benefit from lessons here with you.”
“I’d love to open my own little school,” Skye admitted. “But where?”
Joy fell silent, her eyes wandering past the edge of the garden to the house beyond, with its large, empty outbuilding.
“Do you think they’d let me?” Skye said.
Joy’s expression was caught between caution and optimism.
“All you can do is ask,” she said.
Skye left her in charge of the three children and ventured the short distance to Adam and Victoria’s front door. Nobody came in answer to her knocking, though she could hear music playing inside, along with a woman’s voice, low and sultry.
“Press firmly into your forearms, drawing the shoulder blades down your back.”
Skye rapped her knuckles against the wood once more, and this time, the door opened.
“Sorry,” Victoria said, her face flushed. “I was just attempting a Pincha Mayurasana, but I’ve lost so much core strength since I— Anyway, what can I help you with?”
“A Pincha Mayu-what?” Skye said.
“Oh, sorry, I forget you’re not a yogi. That’s a forearm stand, pretty standard stuff. I used to do them all the time, but I guess I’ve lost the knack.” She tugged at her hair band, sweat glinting on her chest and shoulders. In a sports bra and skintight shorts, she looked as though she could outrun the sun. Skye became keenly aware of her paint-splattered shorts and tee, glad she’d put on sneakers to hide her unmanicured toenails.
The recorded voice was still talking.
“From Dolphin Pose, shift your weight onto your forearms and begin to lift your hips toward the ceiling.”
“I’m interrupting you.” Skye started to retreat, but Victoria made a grab for her.
“Please stay. It’ll give the perfect excuse to take a break. Between you and me, this woman is making me feel pretty rotten about myself. Any more advanced yoga, and I’ll be about ready to scream, and I don’t think that’s quite the vibe I’m supposed to be going for.”
Skye followed her through the airy living space, which had been tastefully furnished with expensive-looking rugs, tile-topped side tables, a vast blue sideboard, and several oversized lamps. Instead of sofas, there were a tan leather recliner and a patterned chaise longue, each draped with a soft cream blanket. In the corner, on the wall near the ceiling, an air-conditioning unit hummed gently.
“It’s been so hot, hasn’t it?” Victoria said, bending to pause the video playing on her laptop. The woman on the screen was frozen in place, head down and a single leg in the air.
“I’ve been down to the beach most mornings for a swim. It’s the only time of day that I can bear it. Have you got down there much?”
“Not as much as I’d like,” Skye admitted as they headed into the kitchen.
“Want a smoothie?” Victoria offered.
“Oh, no thanks.”
“It’s my own concoction,” she needled, waving a banana at Skye. “You wouldn’t think it to look in my fridge, but I’m actually not a great fan of fruit. I get around it by adding a ton of honey. Enough of that, and you can crush up whatever you want and put it in there—calcium, collagen, beta-carotene, a little melatonin.”
Skye raised an eyebrow. “I’ll take your word for it,” she said.
Victoria dropped several ice cubes into a jug, along with a slosh of almond milk and a heaping tablespoon of smooth peanut butter that had taken on a rather tar-like consistency.
“There was a time when I was taking so much medication, I had to make a chart,” Victoria said blithely. “I used to say to Adam, ‘Shake me and I’ll rattle.’ ”
“Were you ill?” Skye asked.
“Nah.” Victoria opened a cupboard, rifled around for a while, then let out an “Aha, there you are!” before reemerging with a bag of protein powder. Banana pie flavor. Skye’s stomach churned along with the blender.
