The next three albums Rose gives me are filled with photos of my mom’s teen years. I spend more time flipping through those as Rose tells me about my mom’s friends and what she did in her spare time. She was a cheerleader. My mom, a cheerleader? I never would have believed it, but I can see it for myself. My mom stands in front of the sign for Apollo Beach High School in her long green-and-black skirt and matching sweater.
Halfway through the photo album is when I start to recognize a face appearing in many of the photos, always next to my mother—hugging her, kissing her cheek, holding her hand, studying back-to-back, or chasing her into the water. I realize all too slowly that I’m staring at photos of my father. A pang hits my chest.
“Did your mom tell you how they met?”
My eyes flicker up to see that Rose has been watching me, then I nod. “It’s about all she told me.” I start to question why she never told me more—and why I never asked. Deep down, I already know the answer. I was afraid to know more, to worsen the feelings of rejection and abandonment that already weighed so heavily on my heart. No one wants to feel unwanted, so I saved myself the pain and rejected the conversation completely.
Rose gives me space for a moment then asks the question that’s been lingering in the air. “If you have questions about your father, Katrina, I can answer anything you want to know.”
I know she’s being sincere, but it’s been eighteen years. Of course there is a secret part of me that wondered why he didn’t show up after my mom passed away. It’s not like he’s dead too, but he might as well be. “Where is he?”
Rose frowns. “Now that, unfortunately, is not something I can answer. Not because I don’t want to tell you.” She’s quick to add that last bit. “I just don’t know.” She searches my eyes as if pleading with me to understand something I can’t possibly. “When your mom left, he was never the same. His heart was broken, and he filled his life with distractions I never agreed with. I haven’t seen him in quite some time.”
I’m tempted to ask about the distractions she’s referring to but change my mind quickly. The answer might hurt more than satisfy my hunger for the truth. I flip to the next page in the album and feel overwhelmed. I set the book down and take a few moments to calm myself, dismissing my questions for now.
Rose gestures for me to stand, then I follow her around the room as she shows me the purchases from her trips to Greece. My favorites are easy to pinpoint at first sight. Greek goddess Hera stands with a peacock below her golden skirt, a crown atop her head, and real gold wraps around her body. I remember learning about her in school, and the bronze nameplate on the stand below the marble figure confirms I’m correct.
Inside the glass cases are ancient artifacts, and Rose points out pendants one by one—the Greek owl, cross, horse, sun, and dozens more. All of them have stories, which Rose explains, but I’m barely listening. At this point, I’m too curious about her fascination with Greek culture.
“You have quite the collection. It’s like a museum here.”
Rose chuckles. “We couldn’t help ourselves. The more we traveled, the more we learned, and the more we collected.” Rose becomes more animated. “It’s amazing how many hidden meanings and stories there are in our history.”
“Like what?”
“Look at the meaning of your name, for instance. Katrina is a variant of the name Katherine, which is derived from the Greek name Aikaterine, which is derived from the Greek name Hecate.”
“Hecate, as in the Greek goddess of magic?”
“That’s right. Hecate was associated with witchcraft and other forms of the underworld. She was also known as a guardian, the protector of everything newly born. Unfortunately, Hecate’s reputation has been greatly misconstrued. If you do the research, you’ll discover that the only evil she ever inflicted was to save herself and her family from harm.”
“So, what does your name mean?”
“Kind.” Rose shrugs. “Not so fancy, I know, but I think it has a nice ring to it.” She winks at me. “Come, sit. There is more to discuss.”
“What is that?” My eyes are now locked on a glass case in the corner of the room. It sits on a circular platform near the window, rotating at a snail's pace, as the sunlight streams in on it, glinting off the facets of the bulky, odd-shaped crystals inside. If one of those rocks were plucked and shaped, it would look exactly like the necklace from my dream—a radiant pear-shaped gem with a honey-gold casing.
Rose hesitates as my eyes stay glued to the glass case in wonderment. “That is a very rare emerald crystal, dear.”
“What makes it so rare?”
She gestures to the stone as if it’s obvious. “The size, color, and clarity of it, to begin with. This particular crystal has been in our family for thousands of years. It’s a symbol for spiritual awareness, protection, unconditional love, and wisdom. Being gifted with this stone is said to strengthen our connection to the divine energies by opening our hearts and minds. The stone carries healing powers too. Rumor has it that it was a gift from Astina Summer’s good friend Aphrodite, the Goddess of Love.”
A bubble of laughter escapes my throat. “You say rumor like it could actually be real, but you don’t actually believe in all this gods stuff.”
Rose tilts her head while raising her brows. “Why shouldn’t I?”
I scoff, completely baffled by how far Rose is taking all of this ancient Greek mythology madness. “I mean, maybe those people were real, but the stories are obviously embellished.”
She raises a brow. “What makes it so unbelievable to you, Katrina?”
I rack my mind, because while it all feels so outrageous to even be discussing, I’m not sure if I ever stopped to ask myself why. “I guess it’s all the talk of immortality and lightning bolts for weapons and driving chariots across the sky.”
Rose laughs and places a hand on my shoulder. “Well, I suppose I can see where you’re coming from, but you don’t need to believe in what I’m telling you right now. We have time.”
“Time for what?”
She sweeps her hand around the room. “For all of this to be yours.”
Her voice is hushed but filled with a passion that almost makes me feel guilty. “I told you, Rose. I can’t stay in Apollo Beach for long.” I look at her, hoping she can see the apology that comes from deep within. “I’ve already made up my mind.”
Rose takes in a deep breath then releases it slowly. “But you’ll stay at least until your birthday, yes?”
I blink, once again feeling like I’m missing something. “Of course.”
Rose smiles, a satisfied twinkle in her eyes. “Well, then I guess I have a couple of weeks to change your mind.”
Rose, Charlotte, and I are eating dinner the next night when someone knocks on the front door. Rose perks up like she’s expecting someone, but then she turns to me. “Do you mind getting that, dear?”
The way Rose’s eyes light up with a hint of a smirk makes me suspicious. “Um, okay.” I dart a look between her and Charlotte before setting my napkin on the table and leaving the room.