“Stop! Stop!” he said.
The group stopped talking and he cleared his throat.
“Give me a minute. I have to put my hearing aids in. I don’t want to miss this. God, I love a good catfight.”
That was the nugget of the evening, as everyone had something to say about it.
Adam said later, “That’s the only way you could have a relationship with Cookie. Take your hearing aids out.”
“That was actually very funny,” I said in agreement.
The dinner at Cypress was so delicious. Again, I noticed Adam was pushing his food around the plate.
“What’s wrong? Is your food okay?” I asked him.
“Yeah, it’s fine. I’m just not very hungry.”
We told stories about the old days and Wild Dunes when our children were little. We reminisced about Max’s fall and how Clarabeth felt responsible. And, once again, described how Carl all but saved his life. Clarabeth had always had a kind word and a little surprise in her pocket for the kids. She was the most thoughtful woman I’d ever known. We got through the weekend, but only with God’s grace and quite possibly Clarabeth’s loving eye looking down on us. I was so happy to see my boys and to see with my own eyes that they were satisfied with their lives and their futures.
Sunday night, the last night Adam and I were together, was awfully sad. The boys had left, Luke to Atlanta and Max to Durham. I wouldn’t see them again until Easter, and even that wasn’t certain. It had begun to dawn on Adam that he had done some serious damage to our marriage and that it might have been irreparable.
We were sitting in the kitchen, eating the hamburgers and French fries that I’d made for supper.
“I don’t want you to go, Eliza. I know I’ve probably been an idiot.”
“Not probably,” I said.
“Come on, Eliza, cut me some slack. You know I love you and you know that whatever I did that you think was so wrong, well, I’m sorry. From now on, I’ll be the perfect husband. I swear.”
“That’s not enough, Adam.”
“Jesus! What do you want from me?”
“I want you to understand that you hid your desire for Eve from me for over twenty years. How would you like it if I was miserable inside because I couldn’t be with someone but I put on a brave face for you for all these years? How would you feel if you found out it was a friend of yours?”
“Probably not so great. But this wasn’t like that.”
“Yes, it was, Adam. From where I’m standing, it was exactly like that. You think about it and I’ll see you in a couple of weeks. I’ll let you know.”
“God, Eliza. I feel so terrible inside. You make me feel so terrible.”
“Classic man. Blame transference. All this heartbreak is a result of your ego. Not mine. Yours.”
“So what are you telling me? That I can never make things right?”
“To be honest, Adam? I don’t know.”
chapter 18
back in corfu
I was in the kitchen at the restaurant with Alexandros rolling dolmades, known in America as stuffed grape leaves. He showed me how to roll them tightly so they didn’t fall apart, something I’d never been able to accomplish at home on the two occasions I attempted to make them. And he was tickled pink to show me how to make all the traditional dishes of Corfu. His hospitality was irresistible. I had arrived with a lemon cheesecake with meringue topping that won his heart. He sliced himself a piece immediately.
“This is delicious!” he said and licked his fingers. “Will you make this for me to sell?”
“Of course!”
“It’s so good to have you back! Tell me about your family. Is everyone fine?”
“Well, it was very sad to lose our dear friend, especially in such a sudden way. She was like an adopted grandmother to my boys almost all their lives.”
“Yes, I understand. Terrible. And the boys handled it okay?”
“Yes, yes. My boys are doing very well, thanks.”
“And your husband?”
“He lives in the doghouse now. In the backyard of my house.”
Alexandros laughed so hard his little belly shook. I wondered if Kiki or Nicholas had said something to him about my situation. Probably.
“What did he do to get moved into the dog’s house?”
“He got caught,” I said.
“Ah!” he said.
No further explanation required.
I said, “Hey, do you want me to make the tzatziki?”
Alexandros made tzatziki fresh every day. It was a simple dip made of garlic, cucumber, and plain yogurt. His patrons used it on everything and with everything.
“Yes, please.” He looked at me long and hard. “I don’t know this husband of yours, but I am one hundred percent positive that he is very foolish.”
Alexandros was so serious and dramatic it made me laugh.
“Why do you say that?” I was peeling cucumbers then, happy just to be there.
“Humph. Because he let you out of his sight. If you were mine, I’d never take one eye from you.”
I knew what he meant. He had no intention to remove one of my eyeballs.
“Oh, Alexandros! You are too sweet.” I blew him a kiss. “You don’t let your wife travel to see her family?”
“Oh, yes. Of course I do. I wish she would travel more!”
“Alexandros! Are you flirting with me?”
He was smiling from ear to ear. “Oh, no! I’m simply explaining the situation. She is a bitter woman and no longer a pleasure to live with.”
He was flirting not because I was an object of his affection but because he was so gregarious it was impossible for him not to flirt.
“Is this because you got caught?”
“No, it is because she gained one hundred kilos.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes. She is a whale. I want her to be happy, but please, go be happy on Mykonos with her relatives. Please. Would you please get us a liter of olive oil from the storage room?”
“You bet!” Was his wife really that fat? I’d have to ask Kiki. “Alexandros? How much olive oil do you think you use every week?” It seemed to me that he was always opening another can.
“Six, seven liters? What does this ‘you bet’ mean?”
I put the huge can of olive oil on the counter near him and took the empty one away to discard.
“Well, it means ‘you can bet money that I will do it.’ Slang versions vary from ‘ya bet your booties, baby!’ to ‘you can bet your life on it!’ or ‘you betcha.’”
“Wouldn’t it be more efficient to simply say, ‘of course I will,’ or ‘with pleasure’?”
“Yes! But isn’t it more charming and colorful to paint the picture with an image than to be precise and succinct?”
“Yes, I agree. Greek is like that too. Well, you improve my English and I’ll teach you how to make taramosalata! And kleftiko!”
Taramosalata was a rich dip made from cod roe and bread crumbs, a kind of Greek caviar. Kleftiko was a lamb stew, cooked slowly in a special oven. Both were incredibly delicious.
“That’s a deal,” I said. “Hey, I saw the prawns that came in this morning. They’re beautiful!”
“My friend goes out in his boat every day and brings them back. The octopus are his too. I’m gonna make bourtheto with octopus and swordfish. It’s the best fish stew in the history of fish stew! When I make my fish stew it’s all gone just like that!” He snapped his fingers in the air.
“The best in the whole world?”
“In the whole world!”
“I can’t wait to taste it!”
“I’ll put some aside for us for later.”
“So. Alexandros? May I ask a personal question?”
“Of course! You are almost my cousin!”
“In your mind, is there a circumstance that excuses infidelity?”
He sighed deeply and became very serious.
“Men and women ask that question for centuries,�
�� he said. “And love is very powerful. People fall in and out of love all the time.”
“Even with the same person?”
“Of course!”
“So if my husband comes to his senses and your wife loses all that weight, we might love them again?”
“Who knows? Anything is possible.”
I had a sense that he wasn’t quite comfortable talking about the subject.
“It’s probably better if we keep the conversation focused on Greek cuisine. If I was your wife I’d be on a diet.”
“And if I was your husband I’d be on a plane!”
We laughed again, but this time it was a knowing laugh, one shared by friends who knew a dark truth about each other.
I’d been back on Corfu for only a few days, and in that short time Alexandros had taught me so much about traditional Greek cuisine. But I couldn’t seem to shake the fog of my jet lag. Maybe I hadn’t spent enough time in Charleston and I bounced back to Corfu so quickly that my brain was somewhere in between and I needed to reel it back into my head. And my clothes seemed to be looser. Maybe I just needed a full night of sleep.
Kiki and Nicholas came to the restaurant late that night, and after all the patrons were gone, Alexandros and I sat with them eating the fish stew, which was absolutely divine, and drinking local wine until the wee hours.
“Would it be so terrible just this once to lick the bowl?” I said.
“Best in the world!” Alexandros said, then threw back his head and laughed.
By the time they dropped me off at Yiayia’s house the sun was coming up.
“I think tomorrow we will start the day sometime in the afternoon,” Kiki said.
“That’s another thing that’s so wonderful about living here,” I said. “You can do that if you want to.”
I told them good night, we blew each other kisses, and it occurred to me that if I was going to stay much longer it really would be a good idea to rent a car. Or at least a scooter of some kind.
I got ready for bed and climbed into it with my cell phone, checking my e-mails. There was something from Carl.
Hey, hope you got back there in one piece. I don’t know if you knew this but Eve and I were supposed to go to Italy next week. Well, forget that. But the tickets are nonrefundable, I already have the time blocked out and doctors to cover for me, so I’m thinking of coming alone. Where exactly are you? And would it be a huge inconvenience if I came to Corfu for a few days? I can fly there from Naples, I think. Or maybe a ferry? Do you know where I might stay? Thanks.
Poor Carl, I thought. He’s floundering around. He needs a friend. I’m that friend.
Carl, No one understands how you’re feeling better than I do. Of course! Come! I’m at Dassia Beach, just north of Corfu Town . . .
I gave him my address. I told him I’d love to see him. It was true. I was excited to see him. I’d take him out to the countryside to gather horta. And I’d take him to see Saint Spyrídon and his hand. Maybe we’d visit the churches on the islet of Agios Nikolaos. And there was the architectural museum. He could stay a hundred years and never see all there was to see.
The days until his arrival flew by. During that time, I rented a precious red Vespa and got used to handling it after nearly killing myself a dozen or so times. The first morning I took it out for a spin I ran into a hedge. Scratched my face a bit. Once I stopped it too abruptly and fell off. Banged my knee. Another time I was going too slow and it fell over, taking me down with it. Black and blue hip. But I finally got the hang of it and actually loved zipping around on it. It was a strangely liberating experience.
Kiki and I arranged for Carl to stay in another charming little cottage that she managed. This one was within walking distance of the village too. It was a lot smaller than mine, but it had a clear view of the sea. It seemed that spring was coming early, as there were buds on the trees and determined purple and white crocuses pushing their way up through the earth everywhere you looked.
The day before his arrival, Kiki and Nicholas came to the taverna for dinner. By then they knew every detail of my friendship with Carl and Eve and the whole wretched business of what transpired with Adam and Eve, including the dinner at Charleston Place.
“We must be very nice to Carl,” Kiki said to Nicholas and me. “This is a difficult time for him and for all of you.”
“Except for Adam, who thinks that he’s done nothing wrong,” I said.
“I don’t know what to tell you about that,” Kiki said.
Nicholas said, “I am looking forward to meeting Carl. We need a decent pediatrician on this island. Maybe we can persuade him to stay!”
“He practically saved my son’s life,” I reminded them.
Nicholas had unknowingly planted a seed for a wild and woolly fantasy my brain could entertain. Here’s how it would go. I’d stay here and become a popular chef and then a partner in my own little restaurant with Alexandros. Carl would fall in love with Corfu and move here. The island would embrace him and all the children would love him. He’d save lives every day. My moussaka would enchant him. My baklava would drive him over the edge. We would actually fall in love and find passion we had never known before. We would live out our days together in a little stucco house with a courtyard, an olive grove and vineyard, cooking and laughing our way into our nineties together. Maybe we’d even live to be a hundred. No! Wait! Because we couldn’t live without each other, at 101 we’d hold hands and jump to our deaths from the cliffs of Lefkáda, like Sappho.
Good grief, I thought and laughed to myself. That is one huge load of feta, Eliza, I told myself. Too cheesy for it ever to happen except in a romance novel.
Kiki and I drove her car to the airport to meet Carl. I had the night off from the restaurant. Alexandros’s chef was back and the plan was for me to bake for them. I could make whatever I wanted, Alexandros said. Or I could come in and cook. It was up to me. I loved the idea of baking for the restaurant, but I’d need better equipment than what I had. There had to be a cooking supply store in Athens. I’d ask Alexandros. Maybe he had a catalog.
That’s what was rattling around in my head while we waited for Carl. We stood in the baggage claim area and after a few minutes I saw him coming. He towered over the people and walked with ease, as though the carry-on bag slung over his shoulder was filled with cotton balls.
“That’s him,” I said to Kiki.
“Sweet Mary, Mother of God,” she said with a dumbfounded expression.
“He has that effect on most people,” I said, smiling.
“Eliza!” He called my name and I giggled.
He pulled me into a bear hug and kissed me on the cheek.
“Carl! Welcome! This is Kiki, my cousin!”
“Eliza told me she had a cousin, but she didn’t tell me you were so beautiful!”
It was the same line he had used on me so many years ago. Kiki took the bait and almost swooned.
“Well!” Kiki said, flustered. “Thank you! And welcome to Corfu!”
“Do you have any checked baggage?” I asked.
“Yeah. I overpacked, of course.”
“That’s okay,” Kiki said.
Kiki was still a little bit verklempt by Carl’s appearance. Even in middle age, Carl looked like a movie star, in the same way that Paul Newman aged so well. Carl and Paul couldn’t get ugly if they wanted to.
“Well, I’m sure your bag will be out in a moment. Are you hungry?”
“Of course!” he said. “I’m always hungry when I get around you!”
“What?” Kiki said.
“He didn’t mean that the way it sounded. Did you, Carl?”
“What? Oh! Oh, sorry! Gosh, that did sound a little carnal! No, Kiki, Eliza is such an amazing cook, it’s impossible to be around her and not think of food! That’s all.”
“If you say so,” Kiki said and smiled at me.
Oh, fine, I thought. Now Kiki suspects there’s something going on between me and Carl. Or maybe she was just teasing m
e. I decided to just ignore it and focus on getting Carl some dinner, the way Kiki had for me when I first arrived on the island, and then on getting him settled.
His bag arrived on the carousel, he grabbed it, and off we went. Carl sat in the front with Kiki and I crawled into the backseat feeling a lot like a human pretzel, twisted in too many directions at once.
“You all right?” Kiki asked.
“Oh yes, fine, fine. I’m just back here auditioning for Cirque du Soleil. So how was your trip?” I asked. “How was Naples?”
“I wasn’t really in Naples. Big cities are too crazy for me. I was in Ravello, a quiet little hill town above Amalfi. It’s absolutely beautiful.”
“Ah, Ravello!” Kiki said. “I went there with Nicholas on our honeymoon a million years ago! It’s so gorgeous! Where did you stay?”
“The Hotel Palumbo. Eve and I stayed there years ago and we always wanted to go back. I had lunch yesterday on the terrace of their restaurant that hangs over the water a thousand feet below, and I’m telling you what, I can’t imagine a more beautiful place anywhere.”
“It’s truly breathtaking,” Kiki said. “I remember it well.”
“Wait until you see this island in the sunlight!” I said, bragging like a native.
Carl laughed and said, “So I’m going to fall in love with Greece?”
“I think we would like to see you try not to!” Kiki said. “It’s not possible to resist her many charms.”
We pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant. It was about nine thirty and the dining room was full. We decided to sit outside on the terrace. Despite the budding trees and flowers, the nights were still cool enough for a sweater, more comfortable still if you sat by a heater, and Alexandros had them placed strategically. I went inside to tell Alexandros we had arrived, and of course he came out to greet Carl and begin the feast. A huge platter of grilled octopus was being delivered to our table just as Nicholas arrived minutes later. He shook hands with Carl. They liked each other immediately and started talking about medicine and the rising costs of pharmaceuticals.
Same Beach, Next Year Page 23