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That time I laughed out loud. “You made me that enormous hat.”
She chortled. “Remember the needle felting?”
“You stabbed yourself so many times trying to go faster!” I chuckled and lifted her fingers to my lips, kissing the imaginary wounds.
She brushed the tips of her fingers across my lips, her eyes pained. She tucked her hand back in the crook of my arm and looked away. “I’ve never been very patient.”
“No,” I agreed. “Patience has never been one of your gifts. What else have you tried over the years?”
She looked up to the sky, thinking. “Um... not much. I read. I have a book review account on Instagram with Amber and Minty. That’s it really.”
“I find that hard to believe. You had the most insatiable curiosity, and you got bored so easily. You’re telling me you haven’t tried other things?”
“I haven’t!” She exclaimed, as if she only just realized it herself. “I think I was depressed for a while. Coping with my anxiety and my grief, working, going to therapy, and then Jace, took up all my energy. There wasn’t, and isn’t, room in my head for anything else.” She turned to look at me. “Which is why this is such a bad idea. I don’t have the mental capacity to deal with the fallout of us. Not again.”
I pulled her out of the way of the people traffic and turned towards her. Cupping my hands around the sides of her neck, I tipped her chin up with my thumbs.
“For tonight, just for tonight, let’s enjoy each other. Can you do that?” I grinned and dipped my face closer to hers. “You’re stuck with me until Yiayia goes to bed, you may as well have some fun.”
She huffed out a soft laugh and relaxed into my hands. I stroked my thumbs down her throat, careful to keep eye contact and to keep my gaze soft. Her face softened and she acquiesced. She was on edge, taking on too much with the franchising, and my presence in her life right now was not helping.
That would change.
I intertwined my long fingers with hers and continued walking. The bouzouki music drifted out into the street long before we got to the café. She squeezed my fingers delightedly.
“You hear that?”
“I do,” I chuckled. “You going to dance on the table again?”
She chortled. “You never know!” I laughed out loud at her answer and threw my arm around her shoulders, tugging her close to my side.
She wrapped her arm around my back and looked up into my face. She was so little. And so strong.
I dipped my head, and she immediately stiffened. Switching tracks quickly, I dropped a kiss onto the top of her head.
Her body relaxed even as her face fell in disappointment. She didn’t want to want me, but her reactions made it clear that she did.
I watched the storm of thoughts pass over her eyes and sought to intervene quickly before she pulled further away.
“Ready?”
Her big eyes got bigger. “Ready?” She squeaked.
I fought the smile threatening the corner of my mouth and pointed toward the door. “To go in. We’re here.”
She collected herself and pulled away. I released her, placed my hand to the small of her back, and opened the door.
Inside, the song was just winding down. The players finished with a flourish, and the café erupted into cheers.
These were not tourists or visitors, these were locals. The smell of ouzo and olive oil permeated the walls. When a plate broke in the kitchen, the entire floor bellowed, “Opa!” and tipped their glasses.
Ruby laughed out loud. We arrived at the perfect time when the balance was slowly tipping from civilized to celebratory. The middle-aged hostess greeted us in English, and I answered in Greek. Her eyes lit up.
“You are Greek?”
Ruby rolled her eyes and smiled. We were about to play the six degrees of separation game that she found so humorous. “We are,” I smiled, hugging Ruby close.
“You live around here?” She switched from English to Greek.
