Samantha Parks - The Summer House in Santorini

Alone now, she looked around her, seeing people’s eyes flicker over to her and then away again. She leaned against the wall eating her burger, but no one came to speak to her. In fact, people actively avoided her as they moved around the room, giving her a wide berth.

A woman came through the door, a Serious Business Woman with a white blouse, stilettos and a power-bob haircut. She looked around the room, greeting some of the guys, then spotted Anna.

“Hello,” she said, walking up with her arm outstretched. Anna set her burger down to shake her hand. “I’m Xenia.”

“Anna Linton.”

“Nice to meet you, Anna. What are you doing in my staff room?”

Anna looked around. “I’m here with my grandfather,” she said, “Christos Xenakis. Nikos brought me here.”

“Oh, you’re Giorgos’s daughter!” she said, smiling. “I heard you were coming. Welcome to Santorini, and to Kamari Sands Resort.”

“Thanks, it’s my first time here,” she said. “Are you the manager here?”

“I own it, actually. Family business. Just bringing it into the twenty-first century, which is why these guys are here.” She gestured to the workmen all around the room.

“Nice,” Anna said. “Very impressive.”

“So, what brings you to the island for the first time?”

“Well…” Anna said, rubbing her hands together, “how much do you know about my parents?”

“Not much,” Xenia said, shaking her head. “I mean, I knew your dad, but only casually.”

“Well, my parents met here while my mom was traveling, then she got pregnant and they moved back to Connecticut, where my mom is from. My mom had my sister and then me, and Giorgos had a string of affairs, so my mom kicked him out and he lost his green card. When he died a few months ago, he left me and my sister his house, apparently. So I’m here to sell it.”

Xenia nodded and inhaled sharply. Anna had definitely given too much information, but she wasn’t sure when she’d have another opportunity to talk to someone from Santorini who wasn’t already on Giorgos’s side.

“Question for you,” Anna said, changing the subject. “Does everyone speak such good English? Nikos does too, but not my grandfather.”

Xenia shrugged. “It differs, but Nikos and I both went abroad for college. I went to Dartmouth in New Hampshire, and he went somewhere in the UK, I think.”

Anna nodded, stifling a yawn; she would have to get a nap in at some point.

“You’ll be fine,” Xenia said with a smile. “Besides, your grandmother’s English is excellent. Now don’t hold off on your lunch on my account. I’ll see you later.”

“Thanks, see you later,” Anna said as Xenia left. The guys were starting to filter out, so she grabbed a seat at the table and ate the rest of her burger. There was an order of fries on there, too, so she ate that as well. Afterwards, she sat there for another fifteen minutes or so until her grandfather walked back into the room.

“Anna!” he shouted, just like he had when he first saw her. She would have to get used to that. “You eat?”

Anna nodded. “Yes, yes, I ate,” she replied, getting up and walking over to him. “Now where is your home?” she asked, putting both her arms over her head like a roof when he frowned, clearly not getting it. Finally, his eyes lit up with understanding.

“Home!” he said, just as enthusiastically as he had said her name. “Wait,” he added, holding up both hands, and left the room again.

Already getting used to her grandfather’s disappearing/reappearing acts, Anna decided she would simply wait for him to return again. So, as the room fully emptied of Greek men, leaving behind wrappers and bags and stray fries, Anna sat back down at the table and put her head down.

An undetermined amount of time later, a hand shook Anna awake.

“Who’s there?” she asked, opening her eyes and looking around, feeling a throbbing pain in her neck. How long had she been asleep? As she turned, she saw a woman, maybe in her sixties or seventies, stood behind her with her arms folded across her chest. She wore a navy floral dress with a wide collar and a white apron tied around her plump waist. Her greying hair was secured in a bun with a pencil. She looked like every grandmother from every storybook ever. Which was fitting, since Anna knew from Lizzy’s photos that this woman was her grandmother.

“Hi, Eirini,” Anna said, unsure of how much she would understand. “We go home?”

“Yes, we’ve been ready to go for twenty minutes now,” she said, surprising Anna with her perfect English. “Christos is more patient than I am. If you’re coming with us, please do so now.”

Anna nodded, standing up, grabbing her bags and following Eirini back down the corridor and out the front door. The sun was now low in the sky; Anna must have napped for hours. No wonder her neck hurt. A white pickup truck sat just outside, with Christos in the driver’s seat. Eirini motioned to the back, where tools and building materials crowded the bed.

“You want me to sit back there?” Anna asked, peering over the edge and trying to find an empty spot big enough for her to sit.

“No, of course not. Just throw your bags in the back and sit between Christos and me.” Eirini sighed and stood with the door open.

Anna smiled feebly and nodded, placing her duffel and her roller bag as carefully as possible in the back, but a tool fell loose anyway and clattered about a bit. Anna looked up at Eirini, who was rolling her eyes at Christos.

Eirini then ushered Anna into the cab of the truck, squeezing in next to her, pushing her further and further across the bench until she was pressed up against Christos, who just smiled at her with both his hands on the steering wheel.

As they pulled away from the resort, Anna saw the view out over the island for the first time. She could now see clearly the roads of Kamari that had walled her in before, all of them pointing toward the azure sea. It wasn’t the Santorini she had pictured, with winding paths that cut between white stone houses with domed blue roofs that blended in with the sky. But as they wound through farmland and vineyards, she thought it was beautiful nonetheless. She wondered what the view would be like from the summer house. And as they started up a hill and the airport came into view in the distance, Anna remembered how she had ended up in Santorini to begin with.

Four days earlier, Manhattan

Until that moment, the worst moment of Anna’s life had been the night just after New Year’s when she’d found out her father had died. Her mother had mentioned it in passing, right in between a summary of the previous weekend’s yoga retreat and an interrogation of Anna’s dating life. The news that her father, the man who had given her life, had dropped dead of a heart attack was apparently on the same level as how well the other middle-aged faux yogis could hold a downward dog.

Not that they had been close, of course, Anna and her father. At least not recently. He had left when Anna was six, riding away in a taxi as Anna’s mother had screamed down the street after him, yelling all sorts of names and insults, the white of her satin robe fluttering in the darkness as the wind caught it and tore it open. Anna’s big sister, Lizzy, eight at the time, held Anna close as she watched from the window and called down to her mama. Lizzy thought Anna was screaming because she was sad and scared but, really, she just wanted to tell her mother that her robe was open, and neighbors were starting to peek through their windows at the commotion. She had wondered for twenty years how someone could be so angry and embarrassed and in pain that they stood in the street with a boob out without realizing it.