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Chapter Thirteen
Iris
“Isit always this beautiful in the spring?” I sigh, and Kristo squeezes my hand.
“You don’t really expect me to answer that, do you? I can’t even say anything to you anymore without sounding like I’m on TV.”
I laugh and know exactly what he means. We’ve binge watched romantic movies for what seems like thirty-six hours straight, and every first kiss, every heartfelt promise, every wedding vow felt as if they were speaking directly to me. In the space of only a few days, I’ve gone from being desperate to escape my family and my future to unbelievably amazed that my life can be as wonderful as it is.
I’ve also begun sketching again, pouring my heart into park scenes and cityscapes, drawing what I’ve already learned of this beautiful city from memory. For the very first time, it’s not to help me form a plan of escape…but simply for the love of a place. It’s a strange and magical experience.
Now Kristo and I are walking in the same park that started our relationship, and instead of his golden, stormy glare as he chased after me that day, his face is bright and open, his smile wide. He’s also wearing a light jacket to hide his sidearm more easily, despite the warmth of the morning. Kristo has sworn to protect me for the rest of his life, and it’s a charge he takes seriously. But if he thinks I’d ever do anything to try to escape him again, he’s crazy.
After all these years of trying to escape, I’ve finally found the freedom I truly crave in his arms.
We turn another corner and I pull up short. I can’t believe it. What was already a perfect morning has gotten even better!
“What is it?” Kristo asks, and in a flash he goes from moonstruck Greek in love to the fierce warrior I know him to be, ready to protect me at a moment’s notice. It’s only when I laugh and shake my head that he relaxes, but he still looks around, confused as I point further down the landscaped path, where a large family has gathered for a picnic.
“It’s them,” I whisper, snuggling in closer to him. “The old couple from the other day.”
He squints at the huddled pair, but a renewed, cautious smile lights his face. “You’re sure?”
I can understand his hesitation. The day I flew into Charlotte, I was distracted by the darling old Greek couple walking alone in the park, lost in their love for each other. But today, they’re in the center of a large, boisterous family. Several children from toddler age on up to pre-teens are pushing around a big, bouncy ball in a clearing of the park, and a collection of watchful parents are standing and chatting nearby. Meanwhile, the sweet old lady and her doting husband are sitting close enough for their knees to touch, holding between them a baby of maybe a year old. One of its tiny little hands is clutching the grandfather’s gnarled fingers, while the proud grandma is making soft kissing noises as the baby rests chubby fingers against her lips.
It’s quite possibly the most precious thing I’ve ever seen. And after thirty-six straight hours of romantic movies, I’ve seen a lot of precious recently.
We continue moving forward, and Kristo laughs. “You’re right!” Kristo says. “It is them. Which makes this day even more perfect.”
Now it’s my turn to stare at him in confusion as he tugs me along toward the happy family. “Kristo, I don’t want to interrupt them—”
“It’s only the best kind of confusion, I’m sure,” he assures me. When we near the family, several of the adults look up, and Kristo waves a friendly hand. “Hello!” he calls out in Greek. “We have a gift—a small gift. For your grandparents.”
Now the old couple is looking up as well, and the baby has begun giggling uncontrollably. I still don’t know what Kristo is doing as he removes a cardboard tube from an interior pocket of his jacket—carefully enough that he doesn’t reveal his gun. He flashes the tube at me but I still don’t know what he has. Then he shakes the contents out in his hand—a roll of parchment paper tied with a pink ribbon.
“Oh, Kristo,” I murmur, biting my lip in sudden embarrassment as he unrolls what I finally realize is my recent sketch of the park, complete with the old couple so immensely in love, their heads pressed close together as they walk, their hands clasped tight, that even now it brings tears to my eyes. But I am no true artist, for all my time spent sketching. For so long, I’ve used art solely to take down alleyways and exits, hallways and doorways, and—
“Oh! Oh, it’s perfect! Josef, come look at this!” I blink up to see a woman about my age looking over the old woman’s shoulder, the baby now on her hip. Suddenly more men and women are gathering round, pulling close as Kristo returns to put a protective arm around me. We’re surrounded by strangers, but they’re all laughing and happy, and the old woman’s eyes have grown misty as her husband pats her arm.
“My name is Maria, do you live here? You look Greek, tell me you are Greek! You must be.”
“I’m Greek.” I nod quickly. “We—we live nearby, for now, anyway.” I’ve never thought of settling anywhere, but I know wherever Kristo will be, it will be home.
“Well, you should stay,” the woman announces, then she glances down again. “Yaya Eva, see? She’s caught you and Pappous perfectly!”
She smiles at the elderly couple who are beaming at the drawing in a way that catches at my heart. Not with the unabashed delight of how they looked at the little baby in their laps, but with the quiet knowing and shared affection of a couple who has lived and loved for a lifetime. And this—these two old people so obviously in love, with their children and their grandchildren and their great grandchildren gathered round—this is what I’ve longed for, I realize. This is what I wanted to run away to…
This is what I’m running toward, finally.
As if he can read my thoughts, Kristo tightens his arm around me and leans over to brush a kiss against my hair. “I love you, Iris mou,” he whispers, as my heart swells with joy. “And I have to say…this is the best movie ending yet.”
And he gathers me close to him, so strong and sure I know without a shadow of a doubt...
That we’ll both live Happily Ever After.
* * *
THE END!
