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I waited for thirty minutes, hoping to see her three dots, but they didn’t show.
I couldn’t say I blamed her.
I’d left her too many times.
Ares: I’ll text you in a few days.
I lowered my head into my hands. I would rather push her away. Make her feel like I had no time for her, as if I didn’t need her than take the risk that she might not need me.
Ares: Text me if you have time.
Fuck. What was I doing?
Dots danced on the message bar.
Hope: That picture is PRECIOUS! Please send more. I want to see your handsome face. I want pics of you with your grandparents. With all of you together.
Hope: And Ares? I always have time for you.
My face flamed. First with pleasure, then with shame for the pleasure. Because I’d done nothing to earn her love. I immediately sent her a picture of me and Sia with my grandparents. Then I put my phone away.
I could only take so much.
Without my young cousin there to translate I had no idea what Yiayia and Pappou were saying, but there was no mistaking their feelings.
They watched Sia with rapt expressions while she sat and played. Often, the looked at each other with shared delight, casting approving smiles in my direction.
For what, I couldn’t tell.
They took turns sitting upstairs while she slept, lying on my bed in case she woke because as father of the year. I forgot the baby monitor. In their small village, those weren't easy to come by.
Unbelievably, while she slept, I took my camera and walked. Took in the village. The people. The cats who ruled the town. The stray dogs owned by everyone and no one.
I wrestled with leaving Sia with them, even asleep. What if she woke up and they didn't understand what she needed? Not that she was a great linguist, but she understood me most of the time, and could at least communicate a yes or no.
What if something happened when I was gone? They had a house phone, but often accidentally left the damn thing off the hook. So much so that it was part of their morning routine to ensure the phone was hung up. Yiayia would come along and check it, sliding it back into the cradle if necessary. Sometime later, Pappou would test it and inadvertently slide it back out.
I determined to buy them a better phone before I left.
They fascinated me.
Their smiles and small touches. If Yiayia was too long in the kitchen, Pappou shuffled over in pretense of looking for something, only to touch her and shuffle back.
Every time she passed him, she made contact.
Somehow.
Agapimeno mou.
And she yelled at him constantly. Turning away from him to hide her smile. He laughed at her, his eyes dancing. When she turned to berate him, she’d laugh instead.
Agapimeno mou, agapimeno mou.
My beloved.
And he called her nifi.
Bride.
