by Maeve Binchy
Someone took a photograph of them but they didn’t mind. They stood locked in each other’s arms as if they were never going to be able to draw apart. Then of course the group in the kitchen came out to join them, and many toasts were drunk to the couple.
“That man who took your picture,” Vonni said, “he was German, he recognized you, Elsa, from television.”
She couldn’t have been less worried.
“He asked who Thomas was,” Vonni continued and turned to Thomas. “I explained you were a high-powered American academic and you were Elsa’s fiancé.”
“What!” Thomas and Elsa said at the same time.
“Well, I wouldn’t have told him anything, Thomas, if you had been wearing those terrible shorts of yours. Once I saw you in a decent pair of trousers, I thought: it doesn’t matter for Elsa if some fan sells the picture to a German newspaper!”
They talked on easily, looking down on the harbor way below.
The last ferry had come in an hour ago, but Andreas’s taverna hadn’t expected any guests from that sailing. It was too late and too far a walk. So they were surprised when they saw someone toiling up the winding path. It was a man about thirty-something. He must have been fit because he had a pack on his back and carried a suitcase in each hand.
“There’s a dedicated diner,” said Elsa admiringly.
“Maybe he’s heard of Vonni’s stuffed vine leaves,” said Thomas with a smile. He loved Vonni for calling him Elsa’s fiancé, even though he was bewildered that everyone had hated his lovely shorts with the pockets.
“It’s late for anyone to come up here,” Dr. Leros said, mystified.
“Unless they really intended to,” said Georgi in an odd sort of voice, peering at the gateway.
Vonni had stood up to look at the man hesitating at the entrance. “Andreas!” she said in a choked voice. “Andreas, my friend, it is, it really is!”
Elsa and Thomas looked from one to the other without any idea what was happening. Andreas had stood up and was staggering toward the gate with his arms out. Everyone watched as his laced boots faltered across the terrace.
“Adonis . . . ,” he cried. “Adonis mou. You came back. Adonis ghie mou. My son, you came back to see me.”
“I came back to stay, Father, if you’ll have me.”
The men embraced in a grasp that looked as if it would never end. Then they drew away from each other and stroked each other’s face in wonder. Everyone looked on amazed, as if they were watching a play. The two men kept saying the same words. “Adonis mou,” Andreas said over and over. “Patera!” Adonis said to his father.
Then Georgi moved forward, and Vonni and Dr. Leros. And they were a little group talking excitedly in Greek, and embracing.
Thomas and Elsa held hands very tightly. “We’ll never forget this night,” Thomas said, smiling at Elsa.
“Was I too forward, too pushy? Tell me, Thomas.”
Before he could answer, Andreas and his son came over. “Adonis, this is the wonderful young woman who told me that I should write to you, when I wondered if you would care. She said everybody loves a letter.”
Adonis was tall and handsome. He had a great shock of black hair which would one day go gray-white like his father’s, but not for a long time, and possibly here in Aghia Anna.
Elsa, who could summon words at will on television in front of millions of viewers, was without words now. Instead she stood up and hugged Adonis tightly, as if they were old friends.
“Aren’t you just beautiful,” Adonis said admiringly to the blond girl in the white dress with the flower in her hair.
“Elsa and Thomas are together,” Andreas said hastily, lest there should be any misunderstanding.
Adonis shook Thomas by the hand. “You are a very lucky man,” he said with great sincerity.
Thomas agreed. “I am a very lucky man.”And then he stood up to address the group of friends.
He looked straight at Elsa, as if to answer her question about whether she had been too pushy, too forward.
“I want to tell you all that Elsa will be leaving with me. We will be going to California together.”
“Yet another reason to celebrate tonight,” Andreas cried out, tears in his eyes.
Thomas and Elsa kissed again, they both kissed Andreas, and then they sat together, his arm around her shoulder, as they watched the homecoming unfold.
Andreas, Georgi, and little Rina ran to get food and wine for the prodigal son. The feeling was that he had never eaten properly in all those years in Chicago.
Vonni sat beside Adonis, her eyes sparkling.
“And your son, Stavros?” Adonis asked.
“Has his own life somewhere . . . ,” she said hastily.
“But why can he not find it in his heart to—”
“Let’s not talk about that now, the important thing is that you are back, Adonis. And by the way, your father has changed; he won’t be like he was . . .”
“Neither will I be as I was, Vonni.”
Then Adonis was borne away by more well-wishers. Vonni sat flanked by her friends Andreas and Georgi, as she had been for so long.
“One night Stavros will come into that harbor,” Andreas said.
“And it will be a night like this,” Georgi encouraged.
“Yes, yes. I’m sure,” Vonni said, eyes bright, face hopeful.
They knew she was putting on a cheerful manner. At the same time they each stretched out a hand to hold hers. Now her smile was real, not forced. “Of course he will come back one day,” she said as she gripped their hands. “We only have to look at tonight to know that miracles happen. And there’s no point in going on if you don’t believe that.”
Dr. Leros came out of the kitchen excitedly. “There are two bouzouki players out there, they want to play to welcome you home, Adonis,” he cried.
“I’d love that,” he said simply. Adonis had certainly changed.
And as the music rang out into the night and the people in the restaurant began to clap to the beat, Adonis stood up and went into the center of the terrace. And in front of everyone he began to dance.
Adonis danced in front of forty people, some of them customers who knew nothing of what was happening, some like Thomas and Elsa who knew part of the story, and some like his father, his uncle, the doctor, and Vonni—who knew everything. His arms high in the air, he swooped and bent and danced, overjoyed to be back where he belonged.
And a little light rain came down but nobody cared. It didn’t get in the way of the stars.