My dad set his hand on my shoulder. “I’ll be home this evening to catch up on filming. And afterward, would you like to join me on a sunset cruise? You really should see the sunset from the water while you’re here.”
I was still trying to recover my footing, reconfigure the day in my head. If he had to leave, he had to leave. We’d make it work. I’d take a picture of the set and we could re-create it when he came back. “Will Ana and Theo come too?”
He shook his head. “I thought we could be on our own tonight.”
My stomach lurched dramatically. So far, our visit had been buffered by work or Ana and Theo. Without them, what would we talk about?
“There will be a small group on the cruise,” he said quickly, as though he could read my mind. “A friend of mine owns the yacht. We will have dinner, music; it is a lovely evening.”
I glanced out at the water. I’d seen boats out chasing the sunset across the caldera every night, and despite the potential awkwardness, it sounded… nice. “Okay,” I said cautiously.
He pulled his backpack up onto his shoulders. “Wonderful. It’s a bit of a dress-up event, although nothing too fancy. I’ll pick you up at a quarter to six?”
Had I really signed myself up for a daddy-daughter date? I definitely had. I nodded, my nerves allowing no room for my voice, and he gave me a quick hug, then disappeared down the steps, taking off with his usual speed.
THIS IS A BAD IDEA, my brain alerted me helpfully. It was much too late to back out, and now I had to spend all day worrying about the cruise.
“So sorry to ruin your plans today.” Ana watched as my dad disappeared down the street. “Our business permit has been a pain in our side. Hopefully today he will get it resolved.”
I nodded, but I couldn’t help the feeling that sat there. Yet again, my dad was putting his priorities above our plans, leaving me to deal with the fallout. But the most difficult part to deal with? Wishing I didn’t care so much.
* * *
Ana told me that Theo had gone for a swim, so while I waited for him to get back, I camped out on the terrace. I’d planned to get fully ready, but I’d gotten sidetracked by my sketchbook, so I was still in my pajamas, trying to draw the blue domes from memory while I listened to Geoffrey talk to a British customer near the entrance of the shop. She’d asked for a beach read, and he was making the case for The Grapes of Wrath.
“Sometimes the bleak is what makes the beautiful stand out,” Geoffrey said. “Without the darkness, would we even notice the stars?”
It must be a bad Mathilde day.
“I don’t think the American Great Depression is what I want to read about on holiday. How about a rom-com? Something light?” The woman was beginning to sound desperate.
“How about Anna Karenina?” Geoffrey suggested instead. “Now, there’s a love story.”
I hadn’t realized Theo was back until I heard his voice over my shoulder.
“That’s really good,” Theo said, his wet hair dripping on my sketch pad. “Oh no!”
“It’s fine,” I assured him, brushing off the water. “It’s a throwaway sketch. And it’s only good because of the oil pastels my dad got me. They’re amazing.” I held it up in the sunlight to get a better look.
“That’s like saying a meal is delicious because it’s served on a pretty plate,” Theo said, falling into the chair next to me. “You’re too modest.”
I shrugged, then flipped my sketchbook shut and turned toward him. “Can you believe that my dad went to Athens today? We went to so much work to set up the bookstore last night.”
“No one starves to death per se,” I heard Geoffrey say from down below, still pleading his case as his customer murmured her reply.
Theo’s gaze had slid out to the caldera. “The business license has been a real problem.”
I was still wrestling with my feelings about it. My dad hadn’t abandoned our plans. He’d had something come up. My reaction to it was ridiculous. “That means we’re losing a whole day. Aren’t you worried?”
“A little. But what can you do? Owning a business in Santorini definitely has its struggles. They’ve had to cut through a lot of red tape to keep this shop going, and your dad is on a lot of the paperwork.” He crossed one ankle over his knee, and I watched him jiggle his foot anxiously, his eyes still fixed absentmindedly on the water.
I stared at his moving foot. Wondering where the bluntly honest, straight-to-the-point Theo disappeared to. But of course he worried about his mom and her shop. I could understand that. Lucky for me, I knew exactly how to get his mind off his mom’s shop. I glanced back toward where Geoffrey’s voice was coming from.
“You’re saying you aren’t interested in the Dust Bowl,” Geoffrey said. “How about Orwell’s 1984?”
The customer huffed. “Are you joking? That novel is a dystopian tragedy. Beach read. I want a beach read.”
I dropped the pastel I was holding into the box, then tapped Theo’s foot lightly with mine. “As director of photography, I would like to make a suggestion. Actually, no. I’d like to make a decision.”
Theo’s eyes moved smoothly over to mine, and one eyebrow went up. “So first you don’t want the title, and now you’re power hungry?”
I waved him away. “Listen. Today’s filming was supposed to be all about establishing the credibility of my dad’s theory. Which made me wonder about the idea of hiring a narrator who could help do that.”
Theo wrinkled his forehead. “What do you mean?”
“Lord of the Flies?” Geoffrey’s voice boomed. “The Bell Jar?”
“Have you ever been to the beach?”
I sat forward on my chair. The idea had only been half-formed when I started, but now it was picking up speed. “Don’t you think my dad’s theory would sound more legitimate if the facts were coming from someone other than him? For most of the film, it’s him explaining and telling the story. But what if we had a second voice in there, sort of backing him up? And a narrator could also tie the scenes together and explain where my dad is and what we’re filming. My dad wouldn’t have to talk the whole time. We could show him in action. Wandering around the islands, looking philosophical and broody.”
Theo’s eyes lit up, and he sat forward. “Kalamata, that’s brilliant!”
Go away, butterflies.
“You’re good at this.”
I calmed my reddening cheeks and poked his arm. “Don’t act so surprised. We need someone who sounds really good and authoritative to give my dad’s ideas more gravity. Someone who sounds like he knows everything. Someone like Movie Trailer Voice-Over Guy. You know who I mean? He’s the one who does all the promos for American movies.” I pitched my voice as low as possible. “In a world…”
“Agreed. Movie Trailer Voice-Over Guy would be perfect. But do you really think he’s hanging out on some small Greek island?” He looked back and forth dramatically.
“But sometimes you don’t need hope,” Geoffrey’s voice insisted.
I smiled. “Come with me.” Theo followed me down to the bookstore, where Geoffrey now stood beaming at his phone. His customer must have fled.