Minutes later we said good night and I closed the front door behind her. I rolled my suitcase through the living room and the kitchen to the bedroom, where, sure enough, Yiayia’s picture was on one wall and a picture of Helen of Troy was on the other. Strong women. Greece wasn’t afraid of them and never had been. I stared closely at Yiayia’s picture. I hoped she would somehow send me the courage and fortitude I felt I needed to figure out what to do with Adam.
I was too tired and there was too much Greek wine coursing through my veins to unpack and find my pajamas. I just kicked off my shoes, laid myself down, and pulled up a quilt that was folded at the foot of the bed. The next thing I knew, light was flooding through the windows, and for a moment I didn’t know where I was. I got up. I was so stiff in all my joints that I decided a hot shower was in order. I unpacked my toiletries and pulled back the shower curtain to turn on the faucet. There was no shower, but there was a rubber showerhead attached to a rubber tube that I could affix to the spigot of the lovely old tub in case I didn’t want to enjoy a good soak.
I started filling the tub with hot water and saw that there was a jar of bath salts right there, just waiting for me to toss a scoop in the hot water.
“This is just what I need,” I said to the empty room.
I brushed my hair up into a bun and brushed my teeth while the tub filled. I checked the water now and then and adjusted the temperature as it grew warmer. Finally, I took off my clothes and slipped in, and oh my goodness, that bath felt like heaven. It was the bath to end all baths.
While I marinated, I thought about Adam and Eve. First of all, I needed to back up. I still couldn’t believe I had actually packed my clothes, gotten on a plane, and left the country. I’ve always had nerve, but this was a huge leap over the boundaries of my comfort zone. I was just so shocked by what Adam and Eve had done that I had to get away. I couldn’t face him. Or her. What was I supposed to say to them? I’d said what I needed to say to Adam for the moment.
I still could not get over what Cookie had told me. It made every single aspect of Adam and Eve’s betrayal that much worse. All the years we’d been friends suddenly seemed like an orchestrated fake-out—a sham, a big lie. They had used Carl and me so that they could see each other every summer. Plain and simple.
Was that really true? Had they really done that? No. I knew I was blowing everything out of proportion. Adam loved Eve. That much was clear to anyone who cared to have a glance at them. He had probably always loved her, since they were teenagers. But he loved me too. I could not honestly say that there had ever been a moment when Adam made me feel like he had settled for less by marrying me. I scrubbed my feet with a vengeance.
And Eve? She was absolutely 100 percent in love with Adam. But she loved Carl too. She was proud of him, and he truly did love her. She really was the beauty queen in our foursome, but he sure did have a roving eye. And to be honest, Eve didn’t bring a lot to the table except her looks. God knows, that mother of hers was a liability. Between Cookie’s mouth and Carl’s eye, it’s no wonder she was so insecure. She didn’t have a career that could solidify her confidence. She was a really terrible cook. She overindulged her daughter and always had. Cookie didn’t do anything except find fault with her. And Carl was probably chasing the skirt he accused of chasing him. What a screwed-up world this is, I thought. I pulled the plug on the drain and began rinsing off with the hand shower.
But still, at the end of the day, Eve had been Adam’s young love, maybe his first, and as far as I knew he had been hers. First loves. Young loves? They were fragile and precious.
I’d known a guy I’d thought I loved all through high school. Vince was Italian, and we looked like we were brother and sister. We were inseparable. I spent so many Saturdays in the kitchen with his mother, chopping onions, peppers, carrots, and celery. She taught me how to make ravioli. I still use her recipe for marinara to this day. His father taught me how to parallel park and how to make a good cup of espresso. I was crazy about his whole family. Everyone thought we would eventually get married. But we went off to college in different cities and it just fizzled out. I thought about him now for the first time in years.
While I was drying off, it didn’t take me long to decide that if Vince had shown up at Wild Dunes with his wife and family I would’ve high-tailed it in the opposite direction. I wouldn’t have invited him for drinks that night and I never would’ve agreed to go to Wild Dunes again for the rest of my life. Who needs the aggravation? Who needs to test their heart? So why did Adam do it? Because he was stupid. And Eve? There was no such thing as too much adoration in her world. I’ve known that since the night I met her and she complained about still being too skinny. I’m not saying that with snark. I’m saying she got the minimum from Carl, less than that from her mother and her daughter. Well, she was so self-involved I was sure she gave her mother little to no regard. Adam took up the slack for all of them. Once a year she got a two-week dose of Adam’s adoration. And maybe more often, for all I knew.
I tightened my bathrobe around me and went to the kitchen to make coffee. There were some groceries—butter, milk, and juice—in the small refrigerator. Just basics, but they would be fine until I went to a store. It was evidence of Kiki’s thoughtfulness. There was ground coffee in a canister in the cupboard along with a loaf of sliced bread. Finally, there were a few bananas and a couple of apples in a basket on the table. The coffeepot was the old-fashioned kind that percolated when you plugged it in. I hadn’t seen one of those in years. I set it up and decided to unpack while the coffeepot gurgled and perked.
I made the bed, got organized, dressed, and had a little breakfast, thinking to myself that I actually felt pretty good, considering the difference in the time zones. I checked my e-mail. There was nothing from Adam. And there was a note from each of my boys checking in. I wonder if they were suspicious. Nope. They were busy with their lives. I sent an e-mail to Kiki.
Good morning! I am up and dressed and wondering if you have any free time today? I think I’m going to take the bus to Corfu Town and be a tourist. Would you like to join me?
Minutes later she replied.
Good morning! I hope you were able to sleep. Jet lag is such a pain. And yes, I am going into Corfu Town to do some errands. Why don’t I pick you up and drop you off at somewhere like the Palace of Saint Michael and Saint George and then we can meet for lunch at the Liston?
I wrote right back.
That sounds great! I’m ready anytime you are. Thanks!
Soon we were on our way to the palace.
“I think you’ll really enjoy the Museum of Asiatic Art,” she said. “Have you been there?”
“Who knows? Maybe? If I was there I was too young to appreciate it.”
“Well, the collection has over ten thousand pieces of Asian art and artifacts. It was put together by a Greek ambassador one hundred and fifty years ago. It’s fascinating.”