PERFECTING THE SADIE JAY IN SANTORINI
The next daywe left Madrid for Santorini. I finally made it to the city I told my Da I have been at for the past two weeks. I finally video chatted with my father from the beach, telling him that Finn left a week ago back to Dublin. My father can see right through me. He always has. I have tells with him that only he can pick up on. Our conversation reeling in my head.
“I don’t know what you are holding back from me, Amee, but I know it’s something big. This isn’t you. Are you in Italy?”
The dreaded words. I couldn’t lie. I couldn’t backtrack. I couldn’t give him excuses. I only told him the truth.
Nonna and the inheritance.
Her letter.
Her real name.
He wasn’t mad. He wasn’t disappointed. He was relieved.
After crying unshed tears on the phone with him, I waited on the crowded street for Lorenzo. I had been waiting for about fifteen minutes. My fingers smoothing out the lace of my wine-colored maxi dress. He walked up behind me, his hand grazing against my waist. I turned around to face him and met with his teasing dimpled grin. I am temporarily out of sorts by his appearance. His navy-blue suit I picked out from Zara in our last day in Madrid.
“Sorry I’m late,” he says.
“Usually, you should get punished for being late,” I tease, taking the sunglasses away from his eyes.
“Princessa,” he warns, his tone jokingly quiet.
We walked inside the doors of the building beside us with our fingers entangled together. The fluorescent lights of the building shone their harsh light on the sand ruins below them.
The abandoned city of Akrotiri.
My eyes went wide as I stared as the sight before me. My sandals echoed against the wood floors as we walked closer inside the exhibit. My fingers left his grip and grazed over the metal rails. A contented smile gracing my lips as finally I feel like myself. The ruins of this city before me perfectly preserved. Windows and pillars of their home still visible.
“Akrotiri is what remains of a thriving port town from 17 BC. I can’t believe it. In front of you, as real as you or I,” I say, staring in wonder at the stone slabs in front of me.
“That’s great,” he says, his tone nonchalant.
“The volcano froze the village in time and blanketed it in ash, which is one of the main reasons it remains so well preserved,” I say, turning around to face him.
My face falls at the man in front of me. His phone glued into his hands. Texting someone.
“Makes sense, of course,” Enzo says, his eyes never leaving his phone in his hands.
“I want to cover myself in silicone so I can be a personal sex toy,” I whisper.
“I’m sure that’s manageable,” he agrees.
“Enzo!” I exclaim, slapping his bicep in disbelief.
He looks up from his phone and his eyes go sullen. He pockets his phone in his suit jacket pocket.
“I’m sorry, amore. I am some other place right now,” Enzo apologizes.
“If you need to do something, I will be okay. I can meet you back at the room,” I suggest, my fingers grasping his hand reassuringly.
“Give me a half hour and I will meet you at the beach,” he says, kissing my cheek softly.
An unfamiliar feeling in my soul watching his retreating form. My eyes focusing on the ruins below. My fingers gripping the railing once more. Large and small pots and vases still perfectly preserved inside the ruins. How I longed to be back in my element. A palm placed reassuringly against my forearm startled me out of my thoughts.
“Are you alright?” A gentle feminine Greek voice says beside me.
I look over to see a petite woman dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. Her blonde hair in a messy ponytail. Her cheeks covered in dust.
“I’m fine,” I say, a reassuring smile coming to my lips in a half-smile.
“You forget the present here,” she says, her hand leaving my forearm with a small dusting left on my skin.
Reading her staff name tag hooked to her shirt, “Absolutely, Thea.”
“The inhabitants appeared to take the warning of prior earthquakes,” I continue.
“That’s what we believe.”
“Absolutely incredible,” I say, my mouth agape in amazement.
Thera looks down and realizes she got dust on my arm and wipes it off with her shirt quickly.
“I am so sorry. I was in an active dig, and I just get covered in dust,” she apologizes.
“An active dig, how amazing,” I whisper.
“Yes, are you an archaeologist?” she asks, her eyes beaming with hope.
“No, I just graduated with my bachelor’s in history, but I am debating on starting my masters in archaeology,” I say.
“Let me introduce you. I’m usually not allowed to do this,” she says, her vocal tone getting progressively quieter.
“Thank you,” I reply.
I followed Thera down the concrete tunnel built under the ruins of a wall supporting it and keep its integrity intact. She opens the gated access to stairs below and introduces me to a small group of Greek archaeologists. After a quick text to Enzo telling him I would be late, I spent the next hour picking their brain of their finds, their educational background.
For once I didn’t have to think about secrets. I didn’t have to think about feelings and hurt and pain. I didn’t have to think. I could just feel.
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