Memories of Santorini, page 12
She tuned into the conversation again when Irene said, “She died last year. And I miss her so much.”
Sienna’s mom squeezed Irene’s hand. “I’m so sorry.” Then she asked, “What’s your favorite memory of her?”
Irene brightened immediately. “Her house at Christmas when I helped her make her Christmas cakes.” She laughed. “It’s fruitcake and it’s god-awful. But the rest of the family loved it, so Grandma and I slaved away. She wouldn’t use a mixer because she said it needed to be hand-mixed. But she couldn’t turn the dough anymore, arthritis, so I did. We blanched the almonds to go on top. We could have bought skinned almonds, but no, we had to blanch them and peel them all ourselves because that’s how she’d always done it.”
Even a few steps behind, Sienna heard the smile in her voice.
Carter leaned in to say, “Her grandma died a few weeks before Christmas. It devastated Irene. But she had to make those Christmas cakes because it’s what her grandma would have wanted.”
Sienna felt a wave of respect and admiration for Irene, who she’d barely spoken to. She’d judged her because of the partying, but she had far more depth than Sienna credited her with.
As if by agreement, she and Carter walked side-by-side and eavesdropped.
“And when the cakes had cooled,” Irene went on. “We drilled holes into them for the sherry.” She moaned, grabbing Mother’s arm. “Angela, she more than tripled the sherry we poured in. I swear, people got drunk on her Christmas cake.” Irene’s smile grew, her memories loving. “She wrapped them in tinfoil and put them in the cupboard to sit for a month. And on Christmas Day, before we could open any presents, she brought out the Christmas cake and different cheeses. We each had a bite and had to say which cheese went best. It was a ritual.”
“I’m sure you loved it.”
“Oh, I did, even if I hated Christmas cake. And last Christmas I made the cakes, and we did the tasting as if Grandma was there.”
“I’m sure you’re going to do it every year.”
Irene nodded, her blonde ponytail swinging. “For the rest of my life. I might even start liking Christmas cake.”
The two of them giggled like little girls.
Something twisted around Sienna’s heart. She’d never been this free and easy with her mother. And somehow the story spilled out in soft words to Carter. “My mom seems so different here on Santorini.” She held his arm as they climbed. “She was always so anxious when I was growing up. I fell out of a tree when I was, like, eight. All this blood was gushing because I stabbed myself on a branch. I probably would’ve bled to death if my mother hadn’t wrapped a tourniquet around my leg. I still have the scar. They gave me a transfusion too.” She breathed in deeply, watching her mother’s camaraderie with a girl she barely knew. “After that, she never let me do anything or go anywhere. As if she was afraid I’d make another mistake.”
“It sounds like you scared the bejesus out of her that day.”
Without intention, she slowed down, her mom and Irene pushing ahead.
“She probably was. But then she stymied me.”
“Can you blame her?” Carter asked gently.
She didn’t want to look at him. He probably thought she was a terrible person. “I can see her doing it for a while. But for the rest of my life? Whenever Dad and Matthew were going somewhere fun, the zoo or the Exploratorium or a camping trip—or even when Matthew got to go to summer camp, Dad would always say—” She deepened her voice. “You need to stay with your mother. She doesn’t want you going on this trip.”
“And you always felt left out,” Carter interpreted.
“Yeah. And she always made my dad into the bad guy because he was the one who had to say I couldn’t go.”
“But you blame your mom anyway.”
She nodded. Her feet felt heavy on the steps, but maybe that was just her heart. “I did. There were so few outings with Dad because he was always busy, going on business trips and working late. So it really hurt that I didn’t get to go.” She laughed then, suddenly feeling self-conscious, as if she was revealing all her silly childish feelings, and she changed the subject abruptly. “What about you? How can you take three weeks off every year when you’re trying to build a high-powered law career?”
Carter’s laugh was loud enough to turn both Irene and her mother. He waved them on. “I’m not the high-powered type. But I work damn hard during the year, and my father practically forces all of us to take a long summer vacation.”
She remembered he had two brothers and a sister, all working at their dad’s law firm.
“We all take a three-week vacation at different times. Dad says people need to blow off steam, that we can’t be all work and no play.”
Yet this was her first vacation in three years. She’d been working her vocal cords down to their nubs, but was she where she should be in her career? That’s why she needed to move to a company who valued their employees, a company where she could grow and be respected.
“My mom’s a homemaker,” Carter told her. “And she insisted my dad be home for dinner every night. He had a drink and a bowl of nuts before dinner, then we ate together. It instilled in all of us the belief that working harder, climbing the ladder, and making more money couldn’t be at the expense of family.”
Besides not really trusting men’s motives, here was another reason Sienna didn’t have a boyfriend. She didn’t have time. And maybe it wouldn’t have been fair either. She was kind of a workaholic.
“And yet, even with that philosophy, Dad’s firm has flourished. We have over seventy-five attorneys,” he told her proudly.
“Wow.” After Carter mentioned the name, she recognized his firm, but the number of lawyers surprised her. It was small compared to firms in cities like Chicago or New York, but in San Jose, that was more than midsize.
“My brothers and my sister and I all came up through the ranks. Dad didn’t countenance slackers. I’ve never wanted to do anything else.” He smiled at her endearingly and her heart leaped. “But I love my three-week vacations, and I don’t think about work while I’m gone.”
“But if you’re so into family, how come you’re not married with a passel of children?”
He laughed again, not so loud, and she looked up, realizing Irene and her mother were at the next switchback. They hadn’t even stopped to rest.
Carter’s smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Maybe I haven’t found the right woman.”
She waved her hand up the stairs. “What about Irene or Tamryn or—” She couldn’t remember the other girl’s name.
“Alyssa,” Carter supplied for her.
“Alyssa,” she repeated. “Why not one of them?”
He shook his head. “We’re all just good friends.”
She wondered how he could be friends with Tamryn. She was a complainer. But then again, Sienna was judging her without knowing her. Just like she’d judged Irene before hearing the story about her grandmother.
She revealed a little more about her family. “My dad worked and traveled a lot. My mom was a homemaker too.” She smiled then, remembering the story she and Matthew had shared a couple of months ago. “She always made our favorite things when he was gone because he didn’t like them. We had lasagna and homemade pizza and tacos, chicken fingers and pasta with meatballs. She was a good cook.”
“So you have some good memories.”
She’d given him the impression that she and her mother didn’t get along at all, which wasn’t what she’d intended. “I have a lot of good memories,” she uttered the lie, wishing she had more. She wished she had stories about her mother like Irene had about her grandmother.
His mouth close to her ear, Carter murmured, “Maybe you can make this trip a fabulous memory too.”
He might be right. This trip could be a new beginning for her and her mom.
As they turned another switchback, Sienna’s breath felt labored, and she tried to hide it from Carter, who didn’t seem to breathe hard at all. Donkeys lined up for those who couldn’t make it another step. At the top of the next switchback, her mother was laughing and talking without a single wheeze while the guys, Tamryn, and Alyssa balanced their hands on their knees as they gulped air. They’d been walking so fast, they had to have been at least two switchbacks ahead of her mother. Yet she’d caught up while they were still recovering.
“Your mom is amazing. She blows them all away.” Carter laughed, looking at Sienna.
“She blows me away too,” Sienna said, feeling a little wheezy and hiding it with a slug of water. “She surprises me all the time.” She returned Carter’s look and finally answered the question in his eyes. “You’ve probably already realized we’re not all that close. We came on this trip to repair our relationship.”
He puffed out a breath. “I thought you two were besties.”
Sienna shook her head. “I was much closer to my father.” She didn’t say that she’d recently learned how good her father was at lying.
Maybe some of those lies were about her mother. And they were the reason she and her mom had grown so far apart.
They had a late lunch after the hike up the Karavolades Stairs, feasting on horiataki, Greek salad of homemade feta, cucumbers, red onions, Kalamata olives, and the delicious Santorini tomatoes, with an accompanying plate of toasted pitas and tzatziki. As she’d told Sienna, the volcanic soil gave the tomatoes a taste like no other in the world.
Angela excused herself for the restroom and used a little extra time to text Xandros, arranging for a meet the following morning. Was it a bad idea? Probably. She’d been fearful this morning. Yet now she didn’t care. She had to see him again. Even his typed words on the phone screen made her breathless.
Afterward, they trooped up to Carter Ellis’s villa with its terrace pool, which wasn’t deep but enough to cool off after baking in the sun. By dinnertime, they were all tipsy on margaritas, the Greek beer Mythos, and retsina, a Greek wine Angela had never been fond of. Instead of going out again, Carter ordered a light dinner comprised of appetizers.
“We were supposed to view the sunset in Oia. There’s a perfect spot, though it’s crowded as the sun goes down.” He waved a hand at the group behind him. “But I don’t think we’re in any shape to get there. I’d planned on walking.” He snorted a laugh. “These guys haven’t recovered from the stairs the way you have.”
“I hike a lot at home,” Angela said. “Hills in the morning get the blood pumping.”
“I need to climb the San Francisco hills.” Sienna crossed her eyes dramatically. “Because I certainly couldn’t take those stairs the way you did. I’m impressed, Mom.”
Angela barely stifled a gasp. She hadn’t been Mom since Sienna was a little girl. Maybe it was the Mythos beer.
“Tomorrow will be easier,” Carter said, grinning. “We’re renting mopeds. You can each ride on the back with one of us, or we can rent a couple more.”
Angela looked at her daughter. Her eyes were shining and her smile sweet as she looked at Carter like he was a chocolate truffle she’d love to savor.
She noticed Tamryn looking too, a frown marring her otherwise pretty face.
“I’d love to,” Angela said. “But despite how easy you seem to think that climb was for me, I’m exhausted.” And she had a date at the café. “I’d like to rest and read.” She touched Sienna’s arm. “But you go.” She smiled at Carter. “She can ride on the back behind you.”
It wasn’t precisely matchmaking, but if something developed, there’d be no long-distance impediment.
“You must come with us, Angela,” Carter coaxed.
Even Sienna added, “Yeah, come.”
Angela shook her head. “Mopeds are for the younger generation.” Though she could have done it easily. She and Xandros had gone everywhere on mopeds.
“You can always change your mind in the morning.” Carter winked.
“Thank you.” She gave him a quick hug. “Now, it’s been a long day with all the walking, the sun, and the delicious food, and I’ll take my leave.” She put her hand on Carter’s cheek. “Thank you for a wonderful day. And take care of my daughter tomorrow.”
“Night, Mom,” Sienna called as Angela left through the terrace gate that led to her stairs.
Hours later, she heard the French doors close a little too sharply, then a loud curse. Sienna had obviously indulged in a few more drinks. Angela could only hope it loosened her up a bit. She was so staid back home, so career-oriented. She rarely dated, and she’d never had a long-term boyfriend. Angela didn’t want her daughter to be alone. Carter Ellis could be a good influence, especially with his father’s edicts about vacations and leaving work in time for dinner.
The door opened and Sienna called softly, “Mom?”
Angela pretended to sleep. Not that she didn’t want to talk to Sienna, but she knew in her mother’s heart that she would start pushing her daughter toward Carter. And Sienna would resent it. No, it was better to say nothing at all and let the matter take its course.
As soon as Sienna closed the door with a loud snick, Angela wondered if she should have taken the opportunity for a heart-to-heart. This morning, she’d wondered all over again if she could actually tell Sienna the truth. It was the shock of seeing Xandros. But despite her fears, she knew the only way through was to tell Sienna everything. She just had to find the right time.
And hope her daughter didn’t hate her more than she ever had.
14
Sienna had left fifteen minutes ago with her new friends, who’d planned an unusually early start to make sure they got mopeds before the tourist crowd snagged them all.
It was a gorgeous day, and wearing a sleeveless teal blouse and black capris, she set out later than her customary time. She was jumpy, worried Xandros had changed his mind. Maybe seeing her yesterday had turned him off. For thirty years, he’d thought of the young girl she’d been, not the middle-aged woman she was.
And he was in his prime.
She made it through the maze of alleys and steps to the café, breathless. It was the anniversary of the day she’d let him down. She’d let Sienna down too, because by then she’d allowed Sienna to believe another man was her father. What would their lives have been like if she’d made another choice?
But then there would have been no Matthew.
It was too late for rethinking as she pushed through the gate onto the terrace.
Xandros stole her breath all over again.
The café was full of tourists getting their first taste of delicious Greek coffee and licking bougatsa powdered sugar off their fingers. But Angela didn’t have eyes for the tourists or the sky or the sea. She saw only him, the strong lines of his face, the toned muscles of his body, and the deep Santorini blue of his eyes.
He smiled when he saw her, rising from his chair in a courtly gesture. His hand on her arm was warm as he seated her, saying, “Eleni is bringing your coffee and pastry.”
“Thank you.” And she admitted, “I wasn’t sure you’d be here.”
He raised one dark eyebrow. “Why would I not be?”
“I was afraid.” She stopped, wondering how to put it without forcing him to soothe her ego. “We all have images that stay in our minds. Maybe the reality wasn’t the same.”
He put his hand over hers on the table. “The reality is far better.”
She’d forced him to compliment her, but she liked it, especially when he added, “I’m so glad that you texted me.”
Eleni trotted out with café au lait and a bougatsa to share, leaving them with a smile.
Xandros asked, “What did you do yesterday after you left me?”
He made it sound as if she’d left him alone all over again. “We took the funicular down to the old port and walked back up the stairs.”
“Intrepid. Just the way you always were.”
She laughed softly, feeling at ease now that they were talking about mundane things. “I shocked my young companions when I made it up the stairs without needing a cane.” Her smile grew wider. “Or a donkey.”
“Young companions?” he asked. “I thought you were here only with your daughter.”
She licked sugar off her fingers. “There’s a group of young people in the villa above ours. They’ve taken us under their wing. Our first day, they invited us to go on a catamaran they’d rented, then yesterday we did the stairs.” She smiled, punctuating it with a chuckle. “We’ve had most of our meals with them as well, and today, Sienna, that’s my daughter, is on a moped trip around the island with them.”
“And you’re not going?” He turned his coffee cup on its saucer.
She shrugged. “I’m not sure I can handle a moped.”
He laughed, and she remembered how much she’d loved his laugh. It sent tingles through her belly, and now it made her think of her nights with him, the touches, the kisses.
“You handled a moped well before. You can still do it.”
She ignored all those tingles, all the long-ago thoughts. “I like this young man. His name is Carter, and I think he’s sweet on Sienna. So I thought I’d give them time together without Mom hanging around.”
He winked. “A summer romance.”
That’s what theirs was supposed to be, a holiday romance. It became so much more. It became Sienna. “It doesn’t have to be. He lives in San Jose, near San Francisco.”
He nodded, his expression suddenly grave. “She doesn’t have a young man at home?”
She shook her head, adding a little snort. “Sienna thinks only of her career. She doesn’t have time for relationships. I could barely get her to come on this vacation.”
“Hard work is admirable.”
