“Eliza told me she had a cousin, but she didn’t tell me you were so beautiful!”
It was the same line he had used on me so many years ago. Kiki took the bait and almost swooned.
“Well!” Kiki said, flustered. “Thank you! And welcome to Corfu!”
“Do you have any checked baggage?” I asked.
“Yeah. I overpacked, of course.”
“That’s okay,” Kiki said.
Kiki was still a little bit verklempt by Carl’s appearance. Even in middle age, Carl looked like a movie star, in the same way that Paul Newman aged so well. Carl and Paul couldn’t get ugly if they wanted to.
“Well, I’m sure your bag will be out in a moment. Are you hungry?”
“Of course!” he said. “I’m always hungry when I get around you!”
“What?” Kiki said.
“He didn’t mean that the way it sounded. Did you, Carl?”
“What? Oh! Oh, sorry! Gosh, that did sound a little carnal! No, Kiki, Eliza is such an amazing cook, it’s impossible to be around her and not think of food! That’s all.”
“If you say so,” Kiki said and smiled at me.
Oh, fine, I thought. Now Kiki suspects there’s something going on between me and Carl. Or maybe she was just teasing me. I decided to just ignore it and focus on getting Carl some dinner, the way Kiki had for me when I first arrived on the island, and then on getting him settled.
His bag arrived on the carousel, he grabbed it, and off we went. Carl sat in the front with Kiki and I crawled into the backseat feeling a lot like a human pretzel, twisted in too many directions at once.
“You all right?” Kiki asked.
“Oh yes, fine, fine. I’m just back here auditioning for Cirque du Soleil. So how was your trip?” I asked. “How was Naples?”
“I wasn’t really in Naples. Big cities are too crazy for me. I was in Ravello, a quiet little hill town above Amalfi. It’s absolutely beautiful.”
“Ah, Ravello!” Kiki said. “I went there with Nicholas on our honeymoon a million years ago! It’s so gorgeous! Where did you stay?”
“The Hotel Palumbo. Eve and I stayed there years ago and we always wanted to go back. I had lunch yesterday on the terrace of their restaurant that hangs over the water a thousand feet below, and I’m telling you what, I can’t imagine a more beautiful place anywhere.”
“It’s truly breathtaking,” Kiki said. “I remember it well.”
“Wait until you see this island in the sunlight!” I said, bragging like a native.
Carl laughed and said, “So I’m going to fall in love with Greece?”
“I think we would like to see you try not to!” Kiki said. “It’s not possible to resist her many charms.”
We pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant. It was about nine thirty and the dining room was full. We decided to sit outside on the terrace. Despite the budding trees and flowers, the nights were still cool enough for a sweater, more comfortable still if you sat by a heater, and Alexandros had them placed strategically. I went inside to tell Alexandros we had arrived, and of course he came out to greet Carl and begin the feast. A huge platter of grilled octopus was being delivered to our table just as Nicholas arrived minutes later. He shook hands with Carl. They liked each other immediately and started talking about medicine and the rising costs of pharmaceuticals.
“It’s out of control,” Nicholas said. “Even here.”
“I agree completely,” Carl said. “Corporate greed is the devil.”
Everything was served family style, so he had the opportunity to try many things. Of course, Alexandros wouldn’t let anyone order from the menu or pay for the meal. It was sometime after one in the morning when we finally left the restaurant and Kiki and I delivered Carl to his cottage by the sea.
The little house where he would stay was half the size of mine but a lot more contemporary. It was white with navy blue shutters, and flower boxes under the windows were filled with herbs and hardy ferns. There was the requisite courtyard with a round table and four chairs. Lights were strung in the trees and an old olive tree, gnarled with age, stood like a sentry in the far corner where it had probably been for a hundred years or more.
“This is very nice,” Carl said.
“It stays rented in the summer months, but this time of year . . . well, it’s not exactly the busiest time for tourists,” Kiki said. “It’s not the Hotel Palumbo, but I think you’ll like it.”
We went inside.
This one-bedroom house was a candidate for a magazine shoot next to the rustic simplicity of my grandmother’s house. The stone fireplace was the focal point of the living room. All the furniture was low slung and slipcovered in white canvas piped in navy. The coffee table was large, rectangular, and entirely constructed of glass. In its center was a cobalt hand-blown glass vase filled with calla lilies that Kiki and I had bought earlier at the market. Of course, we had stocked the refrigerator for him with the basic things he would need. Instead of a percolator this house had a Nespresso machine. And the appliances here were all stainless steel and almost new. It was very modern. Off the open kitchen/living room/dining area was a small powder room, and a large master bedroom was behind a sliding barn door. The master bath had a view of the ocean. And a shower. He opened the window and the sounds of the waves coming ashore filled the room with just the perfect perfume of salted breeze.
Carl smiled at me and then looked to Kiki.
“Who owns this house?” he asked.
“A French woman who bought it for an investment. She works in the fashion business in Paris and she’s hardly ever here.”
“She certainly has great style,” I said.
“She does,” Carl said. “This house is really great, Kiki. Thank you so much for arranging this for me.”
“You’re very welcome, Carl. So, we will see you in the morning? Why don’t you e-mail Eliza when you get up?”
“I’ll do that.”
We said good night and Kiki drove me back to Yiayia’s house, a few blocks away.
“He’s very nice,” Kiki said.
“Oh, Carl’s a great guy, for sure. I’ve known him forever.”
“What’s the matter with his wife?”
“And my husband too. I think they just have a couple of loose screws in their heads.”
“Well, I think you could spend a million years studying human behavior and it would always be a little irrational. People seem to like to make trouble for themselves. Maybe they just get bored. Who knows?”
“It sure looks like self-destructive behavior to me. But I think, as you said, that it’s more about their fear of getting old and dying.”
“It’s true!”
I said, “I just want to get old, and then I’ll worry about dying!”
We laughed and hugged. I got out of the car.
“See you tomorrow?” I said.
“You know it! The neighborhood is gathering and my mother is at the stove!”
“God, she is so great,” I said and blew her a kiss.