by E. M. Irons
During the last supper we had together, they began to tell me the story of how they had fallen in love: Mr. Stravos won Mrs. Angelina over with his kindness, his loyalty, and his small signs of affection.
“Those were different times, and courtship was different. Now there’s no romance! You young people are always looking at screens and missing opportunities.” Mrs. Stravos was shaking his head, as if the world was a lost cause.
“Stravos would wait for me every day, so he could walk me home. Even when we fought.” Mrs. Angelina was grinning.
“Yes, because I knew Niko had his eyes on you, that old goat!”
“But I only had eyes for you.”
They looked at each other fondly and shared a cute kiss.
“It wasn’t always happy, though. We fought a lot.”
“Because you were always wrong.” Mrs. Angelina poked him.
“Not true! I’m always right.”
“Let him believe that, yes?” She smirked at me.
“I wish I had what you two have.” I told them wistifully.
“And you will, little Olivia.” Mr. Stravos winked at me
“Agapitós, maybe I should not say this, but I’m an old woman and set in my ways. I don’t think you were heartbroken. Still don’t think you are. You didn't speak of love when you spoke about that boy James, you had no spark in your eyes. I think you are mad at him. And maybe a little sad about the way things ended. But that was not love, was it?” Mrs. Angelina spoke.
“I… I don’t…” I was actually confused. But I should not be confused about love, should I?
“Korítsi, why don’t you use this trip to enjoy yourself and to open up your heart? Huh?" Mr. Stravos smiled kindly at me. “Greece is a good place to find one's self."
“And to find true love.” Mrs. Angelina smiled.
I was stunned and even though my mouth opened and closed several times, no sound came out of it. I just sat there and stared at those people that took me in without a qualm, helped me, asked nothing in return, and were more honest than most of my friends.
Yes, I was mad, but because my ego was bruised. And I was sad, because James had been disloyal. But heartbroken? No, I don’t think I actually was.
Holy shit, I didn’t really love James, did I?
I think they could see how my mind spiralled out of control at that point. How could I have stayed with a person for almost two years and not really love him? What was wrong with me? Mrs. Stravos reached for my hand and grasped it between hers.
“You are thinking too much, Olivia. You are young, and young people need to learn. Maybe it was not love, but now that you know, you can feel the real thing, yes?”
“I guess so…”
I was still fumbling with my realisation when Mr. Stravos spoke.
“Now, tomorrow morning I’ll drop you off at the port. And you’ll enjoy yourself on that cruise of yours and when you come back, I’ll pick you up. When are you leaving Athens?”
“Hum, the same day, actually. I have a flight after lunch.”
“So you come here, eat, tell us about that boat and we can say our proper goodbyes.” Mrs. Angelina was already planning ahead.
“I don’t want to give you any more trouble, Mrs. Angelina.”
“Hush, child. I have a feeling your trip will be eventful.” She had a secret smile playing on her face.
Well, I don’t think my entire trip could be more eventful than it already was.
3
After a full breakfast, hugs, kisses and a promise to enjoy myself, Mr. Stravos drove me to the port. He waved at some people, spoke some Greek and suddenly I was being treated like royalty. My suitcase was taken care of, my key card for my suite was in my hand and I was hugging Mr. Stravos for dear life. Maybe I was not as prepared as I was supposed to be for this trip.
“Now, korítsi, go have fun. I’ll be here to pick you up and to listen to all your stories, yes?” He pushed me toward the line to board.
“Bye, Mr. Stravos, I’ll see you soon.”
I waved to him, and got lost in the crowd. Who could have thought that this ship could fit so many people? I was staring up at the size of it all when I bumped into someone and almost lost my footing, but a hand held me in place.
“Sorry!” I quickly said, looking at the hand on my arm.
My eyes kept going up and up, following the perfect blue suit, the pressed white dress shirt, the navy tie and finally arriving on the face. And what a face it was. Square jaw, straight aristocratic nose, sky-blue eyes and black hair in a perfect style. He was frowning at me, his eyebrows almost touching.
“So sorry. Didn’t see you there.” I tried to smile.
“Quite all right.”
He had a deep voice, the kind that came from the chest and demanded attention. He released me and gestured for me to go in front of him.
“Thanks.” My voice barely came out.
I was not usually a shy kind of person, but when you bump into a ridiculously handsome man out of the blue, it’s hard not to get awkward. Anyway, I followed the line and soon was crossing the plank to get on the cruise. Even with all the pictures I’d seen and all the research I’d done, I was not prepared for the size and the luxury of the ship.
“Holy Moses.” I whispered.
From the corner of my eye, I could see Mr. Suit and Tie and he shook his head, his lips twitching.
“Welcome aboard, Miss! Can I scan your key card?" One of the cruise staff was holding a tiny scanning machine and smiling at me.
“Sure, thanks.”
“Perfect, Miss Leigh. If you follow ahead, one of my colleagues can help you find your cabin.”
I nodded and when I glanced behind me, Mr. Suit and Tie were staring at me and handing his key card over, while the same staff member was welcoming him.
Following directions, I ended up in front of my cabin, after walking down a long - and I mean an absurdly long - hallway. Inside the room, I felt a little bit disappointed: it was small, it had no windows, and the bathroom was tiny. I remember getting in an argument with James about the cabin, because I wanted at least a window and he was adamant about spending more than necessary, his reasoning being that we would hardly stay in the room. Looking around and finding my suitcase by the bed, I wished I had been stronger and insisted on the room with a window.
Shrugging, I opened my bag, put my clothes away in the hidden closet and left my toiletry in the bathroom. To freshen up, I changed into a pair of dark capri jeans, a striped t-shirt, and some flats, picked my handbag, stuffed my key card and my cellphone inside, and left the room. It was time to explore.
Walking around the cruise, I realised that getting from one place to the other would be my exercise during this holiday. Everything was far away and they had 19 decks. Yep, nineteen. I managed to see the pool, the jacuzzi, the reception, one of the restaurants, two bars, the theatre, a racecourse, and they even had a Starbucks! I walked for what felt like hours until I stopped at a café with a buffet and got some food. The view was spectacular and, according to the itinerary, it would only get better. First it was Athens, followed by Mykonos, Kusadasi, Patmos, Santorini, Monemvasia, Nafplion and back to Athens. Seven days of heaven and beautiful views.
Sitting alone, people watching, I felt myself getting sad. This was not how I had planned things, and Mrs. Angelina’s words kept invading my mind. Had I wasted almost two years of my life on an empty relationship? Did I love James? Everything felt confusing, and I wished I could call one of my friends and vent, but I didn’t want to bother anyone with unnecessary drama.
Across the café, I saw two beautiful Latina women walking, they looked mother and daughter, and one of them had a cocktail in hand. And it finally hit me: this was a free booze cruise. As in drink-all-you-can cruise. And right about now, that seemed like a perfect idea.
Leaving more than half the sandwich behind, I started walking around, looking for the perfect bar to drown my sorrows. You see, I didn’t want a crowded bar or a bar full
of happy families. I wanted some place quiet and hidden, and that's how I ended up in the Aphrodite's Lounge, with its low lights, soft music and, as an extra treat, a cute bartender.
“Hello, love. What can I get you?” He asked when I sat in a booth.
“Hum…" I scanned the menu and found a drink matching my mood. “A Death in the Afternoon, please.”
I saw the bartender's eyebrows rise and he blinked. Twice. “Sure thing. Death in the Afternoon coming right up."
After a few minutes, he placed a flute filled with green sparkling liquid and a lemon twist. It looked so pretty that I snapped a picture and sent it to a group of my girlfriends and also my sister. Tasting the drink, the licorice taste surprised me. It was good, really good.
One drink became three. I tried calling my sister, but it went to voicemail, probably because she was working and not on some Greek cruise on holiday. Duh. And not surprisingly, the empty bar filled. I think I was there a little over an hour, but the bartender became my best friend, and I started to tell him everything. They always said that the best advice came from people that did not know you. Or something like that.
“So you see, Alex, we met at university. He was a literature post grad student and I was in the history department. It was perfect! But Mrs. Angelina said it was not love. Was it?" Some words were becoming increasingly difficult to speak, and I could feel myself slurring.
“Well, I don’t know Mrs. Angelina, but there are all kinds of love out there, and maybe he was your first real love.” He was wiping the counter and speaking.
“Really? Do you think so?” I was really hopeful.
“I read somewhere that you have three kinds of love in your lifetime: the first love, that idealistic one, where you believe in fairy tales. The second love, now that one is the hard love, it’s full of problems and you need to learn and let go. And then the third love, the one you don’t see coming, and it’s the one that lasts.”
“Wow.”
He laughed and winked at me. “Maybe he was your second love. It doesn’t mean you didn’t love him, just that he was not right for you.”
“Damn, you’re wasted as a bartender, Alex.”
I set back, thankful that the booth had some support because I could sense my head beginning to spin and my balance getting cagey. Suddenly, I felt a presence on my left and a man sat really close to me.
“Hello, there, beautiful. Can I buy you a drink?” He asked, leaning toward me.
He looked like he was in his fifties, a big round belly, a receding hairline and bad breath.
“It's an open bar.” I smiled, leaning away from him.
“Even better than. What are you drinking?"
“Hum…”
If I was not three really strong drinks in, I may have a comeback that would put him in his place or I would push him away, but my senses were off and I began to panic a little. I heard a heavy sigh from my right and a deep voice.
“She’s with me, so you may want to give her some space.”
The guy looked over and his neck went red. “Sorry, didn’t know she was taken.”
“Misogynist much?” I muttered.
He looked me over once again, this time with a sneer on his face, and left. Breathing easier, I turned to thank the voice for the help, and was surprised to see the same man from the line in the cruise.
“Hello, you!” I smiled.
“Hello again."
“Alex, this is my new friend, Mr. Suit and Tie!”
Alex snorted a laugh, nodding to the other man, who was only wearing the white dress shirt from earlier, sans the suit and tie. Oh well, the nickname still worked.
“I think we need another drink to toast."
“I think you should go easy on the absinthe.” Mr. Suit and Tie replied.
“Whaaaaat?!” I grabbed the menu again, scanning for the ingredients of the Death in the Afternoon. “It only says here it's Hemingway’s drink!”
“Well, it’s bubbly with absinthe and some lemon.” Alex explained.
“Holy shit, I’m drinking absinthe. That explains the head!"
“What head?” Mr. Suit and Tie asked curiously.
“My own, you dummy. It’s spinning.”
His mouth twisted, but no smile came out.
“So, Mr. Suit and Tie, how was your day?"
“Please call me Elliot."
“Oh Okay.” I smiled happily at him. “How was your day, Elliot?"
“Busy.” He had a laptop in front of him, with some spreadsheet open.
“No, no, no, it’s a cruise. You need to enjoy yourself, not work.”
“It's a working trip for me."
“That’s too bad. You know that tomorrow we'll arrive in Mykonos, right?”
He just nodded, looking back at his computer, then at Alex, and finally at me.
“I need to pee.” I blurted out of the blue.
I got to my feet and stumbled, almost falling face first on the floor, if it was not for Elliot’s quick hands grabbing me. Maybe I was drunker than I thought.
“Sorry. I’m good.” I grinned at his scowling face.
“Maybe you should lay down for a while.” His voice seemed deeper somehow.
“That’s a good idea. That couch looks really nice” I pointed.
“Your cabin sounds better.”
“Ohhh, a bed! That sounds better.”
Man, I was one happy drunk.
“Ok, let’s get you to your cabin. What’s the number?”
I scrunch my nose. What was the number? 9057? No, it was 8010. No, no, no, it was on the 9th deck. So maybe 90210? That sounds familiar. Shit, it’s not Beverly Hills, silly.
“You don’t know the number?” He took a deep breath.
“I'm not sure…”
“That's fine. What’s your full name?"
“Olivia Leight, at your service.” I giggled.
“Excuse me, Alex, right? Could you check her cabin room number, please?”
“Sorry, sir, it’s against cruise policy. We cannot disclose other passengers' information.” He sounded well rehearsed.
“And that’s a great policy, but she needs to get to her room, and she forgot the number."
“Truly sorry, but I can’t.” Alex gave an apologetic smile. “You can try the main reception. Or we can call the in-house physician and he can take her to the infirmary to rest, and, you know, cure her hangover. When it hits.”
I could see Elliot closing his eyes and taking another deep breath. He released my arm, gathered his belongings, and after leaving a huge tip, he once again took a hold of my arm and guided me away, while I waved at Alex.
“Bye, Alex! See you tomorrow!”
I could hear the bartender's loud laugh following me out of the bar.
It took forever to reach the main reception, and I could feel all the alcohol making me clumsier, more wobbly and a little bit sick. Those absinthe things were no joke.
Walking beside Elliot, I kept glancing up. My head was chest level with him, so it was hard to read his eyes.
“Is it cold up there?”
“Excuse me?” He sounded confused when he looked down at me.
“You must see everyone's top of the head. That’s odd."
“You're odd.” He blinked at me.
Still holding me, Elliot sat me down near the reception and went to speak with one of the staff. I could only hear snippets of the conversation, but it went pretty much the same way as before: they couldn’t give other passengers information, there was the infirmary, or I could come up and ask for the number myself. Ohhh, that could work. I rose and tried to walk straight to the reception desk - without much success - when the ship’s horn sounded. I froze for a second and all the pent up excitement about this trip just burst open.
“Elliot! We are… leaving! Departing! Damn, going away maybe?! Never mind! Come on, we have to wave! Just like on the Titanic!”
I gripped his hand and pulled him away. I narrowed my eyes and tried to understand the be
st way to get to the main deck.
“If we go and wave, are you going back to ask for your room number?" He sounded exasperated.
“Yes. Pinky swear!”
“Come on."
He guided me to the elevators, down a corridor, a big glass door and we were in the open, the deck circling the entire ship, some chairs scattered around and people watching as we left the port.
I leaned over the rail and started waving like a madwoman. I felt Elliot's hands grabbing my waistband, holding me firmly in place. Looking back, I gave him a full grin and winked.
“You have to wave, Elliot."
“I don’t have anyone to wave to.” He was grumpy.
“It doesn’t matter, it's the feeling that counts.”
“The feeling of waving to no one?”
“No, silly, the feeling of leaving for an adventure.”
Shaking his head, with his hand still firmly in place, he approached me and gave a tiny wave. I started laughing, because that was a terrible wave. “Wave like you mean it!"
“There's a right way to wave, is that it?” Sarcasm was dripping from every word.
“Don’t be a mood killer.”
He tugged at my waistband and I was once again with my feet on the floor, staring at his blue eyes that happened to scan my whole face.
“You are quite something, Olivia Leigh.”
On an impulse, I threw my arms around his midsection and gave a squeeze.
“Thank you for being so nice."
He cleared his throat and muttered. “Welcome."
I gave him another squeeze and let him go, taking a step back.
“Are you done waving?”
“Yeah."
“So let’s get your cabin number, shall we?”
We made the way back to the reception, and Elliot was by my side when I asked the front desk for my room number. The lady typing on the computer looked us over, extended a hand for my key card, scanned it, recited the cabin number while giving me back my card and said nothing else.