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Chapter Eight
Sophia’s arrival at the Rhodes airport was bittersweet. Every other time she’d come to visit, Yaya would be waiting for her. On this occasion, her cousin, Barney, stood with a long face and sad eyes. Normally, she’d have arrived without any fanfare and taken a few days to adjust to her new circumstances as a bereaved granddaughter, but she didn’t have the luxury of time.
She approached with her arms open. “Hi, Cuz. Thanks for meeting me.”
His bearing was that of a man who’s shoulders carried more weight than they should. Considering he had five children all under the age of seven, she understood his manner and even commiserated. She loved children, that was always a given, but having so many all arriving around the same time would be a heavy burden for anyone. Thankfully, his wife Ellie carried most of the brunt, leaving Barney free to run his classy beach spa hotel.
“Of course, I came to get you. It’s a sad time for us without Yaya. We wanted you to know we’d be happy for you to stay with us rather than at her house all by yourself. I don’t want you to be alone and grieving for her.”
“And yet, that’s exactly what I need to do, Barney. You know that as well as I do. I want to say my goodbyes. I’ll come over to your place soon. Just give me today to settle in.”
“Fine. But Ellie would cut me into small pieces if I didn’t offer you a room with us.” His sincerity rang true.
She grinned. Her six-foot-two, thickset cousin feared the wrath of his five-foot-two skinny wife. “You’ve already organized a cocktail party for me so I can say hello to all the family at once rather than having to reach out to each of them separately. That’s a huge help, Barney. Today, later, I need to visit Old Town and hit the favorite places where Yaya and I always headed for.”
“Don’t forget, while you’re there, please stop and say hello to Yanis. He’s asked about you more than once. You know he’s got the gift. I think he’s worried about you, at least I get that feeling. So, unless you want him stalking you, stop over at his fish spa and see him.”
“Of course, I will. How is he doing?”
“He’s fine but frets about his favorites. You’ve been one since you were a small girl.”
Sophia laughed. “Was it me or my mother he had eyes for? He’d light up every time we were together.”
“They went to the same school. Who knows, maybe they were romantically involved. I’ve never asked him.”
“Maybe one day I will. Here’s the house, Barney. Thank you for making sure the flowers were all taken care of since Julie left. The place looks wonderful.” Sophia feasted her eyes on the golden house with vine-covered balconies streaming with the same pink and purple bougainvillea her Yaya had always grown. It made her heart ache. Yet she felt better than she would have if the place looked deserted and unkempt.
Barney pulled into the driveway and got out of the car to retrieve her suitcases. “Are you sure I can’t come in with you? I can fetch you your favorite tea and hold your hand.”
“No, I’ll be fine. You know I dislike anyone seeing me upset. I’m an ugly crier, so it’s best if I get it over with while there’re no witnesses. I’ll come to you soon, I promise. This morning, what’s left of it, I’ll hang with Yaya’s spirit.”
Within a few minutes, Sophia had her suitcases in her room, and she stood at the entrance to her grandmother’s den where the older woman had spent most of her time. The well-used easy chair looked as if her Yaya had just gotten up to leave the room for a few minutes and would return.
She sat down, closed her eyes, and let the memories flood along with the accompanying tears. She’d loved that woman so much. They’d had a rapport she’d never felt with another. No one else had treated her quite the same or understood her better.
Her Yaya knew her secrets, about the days when she’d been forced to come to terms with a threat that would have changed her future. And how the relief of not being pregnant had made her feel guilt that had never quite disappeared.
She’d helped her accept her vulnerability towards a certain type of male, the seduction they might use to overcome any woman’s boundaries, and how to see it clearly for what it was. Not a weakness of her character, but a normal female inclination to that sort of charm.
The Greek beauty had also been the one to teach her how to shoot. Oh, they’d trained her in Quantico, sure. But it was her grandmother who’d schooled her miracle, the sharp eye and hand coordination that made her special. She’d taught her the lesson of how to see clearly as she looked through the rifle’s telescope – to judge distances and react quickly.
Sitting there in her Yaya’s home, she ached with love and the pain of loss. Until she imagined a voice in her head that she’d yearned to hear.
“Éla, come, my child. Don’t sit there missing me. Get up! Go! See the people who make you happy. For as long as you remember me, I will be with you.”
Knowing her Yaya would expect no less, she wiped her tears and changed into a filmy, long, white eyelet creation – her grandmother’s favorite of her dresses she often wore while staying in Rhodes – and headed to the best part of the Island. Always sunny here during the spring and summer, the heat of the Mediterranean sun soothed her and put a spring in her step.
The Old City of Rhodes (Old Town), surrounded by medieval castle walls with seven gates, housed The Palace of the Grandmaster and was the most impressive site of all the Greek islands. A world of tourist shops, restaurants, bars, and museums, more like a Turkish bazaar than any other Greek city, resided within its thick parapets. Anyone with imagination would be touched by the history of the place, imagining the past where knights ruled, and armies battled.
Today, it’s magic still existed as a tourist haven where folks came to spend their vacations among kind-hearted Greek hosts. Sightseeing, eating wonderful Greek dishes at the various restaurants, shopping to their heart’s content, and constantly surrounded by the gorgeous blues of the Mediterranean ocean made it a holiday retreat like no other.
But then, Sophia was biased. Once inside the primitive walls, she headed for her favorite restaurant where they greeted her with affectionate hugs and commiserated with her on the passing of her Yaya. Soon, without her having to place an order, they’d set her up at the front table with all her favorites.
Lynia, her special friend who’s family owned the place and who’d worked at the same open-air bistro since she could remember, left her to greet other guests. While she soaked up the sunshine, enjoying her favorite Ouzomezes, appetizers they served with a glass of their finest Ouzo saved for special guests, she waited for the main course of traditional Moussaka, the best in the city.
Surveying her surroundings, she slowly planned her options for the next few days. Suddenly, a ruckus began in the restaurant across from where she sat. Separated by only a few feet, she listened to the accents of what she decided were a group of happy Canadians newly arrived.
She smiled as the four excited tourists ordered fancy cocktails that had flags of the various countries attached to slices of fruit that decorated large goblet-styled glasses. Some of the fancy glasses were huge, and she waited for them to ask the price before going ahead and placing their order.
