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“You are Greek?” She asked excitedly.
He smiled. “I am.”
“Where you from in Greece?”
“From the north. The province of Macedonia.”
“What village you from?” Elisavet’s excitement was palpable.
“Edessa.”
“Edessa!” She smiled widely, then twisted and hollered to Yanni. “Yanni! Yanni! Ela, this boy is from Edessa!”
I smirked at the use of the term ‘boy’. He was clearly all man. Over six feet tall, lean and muscular, with dark, wavy hair sprinkled with grey, for crying out loud. The grey hair made me sad. Well, it wasn’t like I didn’t hit the hairdresser every five weeks.
Yanni came from the back of the store balancing several cans of dolmadakia in his hands.
“Why you don’t put it in the bag, Yanni?”
“You have the bags,” he explained exasperatedly.
He turned to Vander, who watched them, a familiar hint of amusement on his face.
“So,” Yanni began his inquisition as Elisavet bagged the dolmadakia. “Your people, they from Edessa?”
Vander nodded and shook Yanni’s proffered hand. “You know Papadopoulos, Christos?”
“I’m sorry,” Vander shook his head. “My parents brought me here as a small child. I don’t know anyone there.”
“What your last name is?” Elisavet cut in, leaning her forearms on the counter, her face animated.
“Vitalis.”
“Vitalis, Vitalis…” Yanni murmured under his breath, staring into space and history, while Elisavet did the same.
Yanni’s gaze snapped back to Vander, and he peered at him. “Your father, his name George?”
Vander’s eyes crinkled. “Yes, George.” This didn’t mean much. Every third fellow in Greece boasted the name George.
“His mother, Voula?”
“Yes!” Vander answered, bemused.
I’d heard this same conversation, and variations of it, my entire life. Greece was a small country, and it was a small world. Everyone knew everybody, somehow. They connected through their villages, their churches, their marriages. Couples didn’t get married in Greece, families did.
I looked at my watch. I had to get back and open the door to Spuds, and I didn’t want to have to speak to Vander in front of Yanni and Elisavet. I squirmed in my seat.
Yanni went on to tell Vander more of what he remembered, and Elisavet seemed to remember my presence at the same time. She bustled over to me with the bag of dolmadakia cans in her hand.
“Here, koukla. Just take them. You going to be late!”
She passed me the bag and I bolted for the door. I saw Vander turn out of the corner of my eye, and saw his eyes widen. I laughed delightedly as I escaped out the door, leaving him to his fate.
Twenty minutes later, he walked into Spuds. As soon as he saw me standing behind the counter, he pointed at me and laughed, his teeth a flash of white framed by that beard that gave me ideas I’d sooner not have.
“You! You knew they would give me the Spanish Inquisition!”
I nodded and laughed. “They know about you. They’re good friends with my grandmother.”
