CHAPTER ELEVEN

Despite the unpleasant events of the day before, I’d woken up the next morning feeling very positive about the day ahead of me.

WHATSAPP GROUP: Jane goes to Greece

Jane: Wish me luck. I’m off to find my father!

Lilly: Good Luck.

Annie: OMG. This is crazy. I can’t believe you’re doing it.

Jane: I know.

Lilly: So what’s the plan?

Jane: Well… I Googled all the licensed tour guides and tour companies in Santorini. There were twelve. Three of the companies also had the name Dimitri in their title…

(I left out the part that I knew one of them.)

Jane: I’ve phoned them all and asked whether a Dimitri, approximately forty to fifty years old, was currently working there, or had worked there in the past. So now I have whittled it down to five companies and I’m on my way to see them all.

Annie: How are you going to know it’s him?

Lilly: Exac. You just going to come out and ask, “Hey, did you have sex with a woman called Phoebe twenty-five years ago?”

Jane: I’ll just know when I see him.

Annie: You’ll know?

Jane: Sure. How could I not recognize my own dad?

Annie: Uh, I hate to point this out to you, but I think there are a few holes in your plan.

Jane: My plan is fine!

Val: Hey, just saw this. Cool news! I still can’t believe you’re even there. OK, gotta go. I see Matt’s car pulling up to the apartment.

Annie: HEY! Stop stalking him and his girlfriend!!!!!!

Val: I’m not.

Lilly: You are!

Jane: Totally stalking him!

Stormy: LoVe = Poowerfull

Jane: Huh?

Stormy: Yourre staR Sign. t0day says is power.ful dAY for love/

Lilly: Stormy. Woo-hoo! You’re getting better at typing!

Jane: Thanks Storm. But I doubt it.

I slipped my phone in my pocket. I donned the most comfortable pair of walking shoes I owned, grabbed my bag, and headed out the door. I figured it would be easier to navigate the narrow streets on foot to avoid the slow-driving tourists—and the bit of exercise wouldn’t hurt, either.

But a few hours later, and four tour companies down, I began to realize the serious holes in my plan, which Annie had tried to warn me of. I think I’d shot her down so quickly because if I had thought about it, really thought about it rationally for more than a few seconds, I would have clearly seen the massive, gaping holes in this ill-concocted plan of mine.

First, one place employed two Dimitris, both of them in the right age bracket—neither of them looked right. Others said they had employed Dimitris, but had no clue where they were now. Most said they couldn’t help me unless I had a surname, which I didn’t.

As the day progressed I’d also become less and less confident in my so-called ability to recognize my own father. I’d stared at multiple Dimitris all day and none of them had jumped out at me. My enthusiasm began to wane, although the last Dimitri had suggested I go down to the port; there were boat tours there and he definitely knew of a Dimitri.

And that’s when I saw him…

Growing up, my sisters were part of the cool crowd—no, they were the cool crowd. They defined what everyone was doing and wearing and what the latest buzzword was. Boys wanted them, girls wanted to be them. They oozed a gravitational force that was so strong, people seemed to take up orbit around them. Dimitri had that same kind of quality, only magnified. He was walking along the tiny-pebbled street, talking about something passionately. A smile illuminated his face, there was an urgency and excitement to his walk, and his gestures were large and uninhibited. He looked like an overexcited kid on the playground. This passion, mixed with that half-unbuttoned white shirt, made him obnoxiously good-looking. Surely no man had the right to be this good-looking. He radiated good-looking-ness from every single one of his tiny pores. I almost wanted to march up to him and prick him with a needle just to see if he was human and would bleed.

The women following him looked hypnotized. Although they were carrying little Greek tour books and maps, they were way more interested in looking at the way the wind was tugging at his loose-fitting shirt… mmmm, so was I…

Suddenly I imagined him plunging business cards into all these women’s eager hands.

“If you need anything.”

I crept a little closer. I didn’t want him to see me, so I decided to stare at him rather psychotically from behind a bush. I was close enough to hear what he was saying now.

“… This island is like the Greek myth of the Phoenix that rose up out of the ashes.” His voice had an excited quiver to it. “It was created from a massive volcanic eruption, and now it is the most beautiful place on earth…” He stopped for a moment, placed his hands on his hips, and looked around in awe, as if he were looking at it all for the first time. There was something so hypnotizing about him that for a moment I wondered if this was what my biological mother might have experienced.

“Can you feel it?” He spoke again. “The magic of it all?” He turned and looked at the women, who all dutifully nodded their heads. But it was clear they weren’t thinking of their magical surrounding but rather contemplating what magic might be lying under that shirt of his… or in his trousers.

I leaned in a little closer, and that’s when I felt the buildup. No, no, no, no… too late. I felt the sneeze before I saw the cause of it lurking in the same bush I was in. “A-chooo!” I sneezed. Loudly. He turned and looked in the direction of the bush…

Fuck!

My first instinct was to drop to the ground. Perhaps try a military-style drop-and-roll slash leopard-crawl combo. But I’d done enough of that in the last twenty-four hours to last me ten lifetimes. My heart thumped. My head started to sweat, and my mouth went dry. Think, Jane… think, Jane… be smart… use your doctor-y brain… what am I going to do?… think…

So I threw myself at the ground once more. Yes, I did it again. Don’t judge me. I was so embarrassed for myself that I didn’t even care that a little boy pointed and laughed at me as I crawled across the ground. I just prayed he hadn’t seen me…

“Jane?” A sexy leg appeared in front of me. I was assailed by feelings of panic, but I was also determined to remain cool this time. The most important thing to do in a situation like this was to relax, keep calm, breathe. Do. Not. Panic.

“Dimitri. Hi. I… hahaha. It’s you.” I looked up at him from the ground and realized that this was the worst impression ever of surprised but totally cool, slightly aloof person.

“Haha…” I nervous-laughed again. I hated myself. “Fancy seeing you here.” A+ for creativity there, Jane.

I quickly scanned my brain for some valid excuse to be down there:

Looking for contact lenses. (Way too clichéd. Sounded like a lie.)

Studying the indigenous ant species. (Way too complicated.)

And then I saw it. My golden ticket out of the situation. My bag had opened and a can of Coke Zero had rolled out of it. I grabbed it in my hand and jumped up.

“Found it,” I said triumphantly. “Sneaky little thing must have rolled away.” And then to end my performance I decided to do it. If I’d been in my right mind I wouldn’t have. It doesn’t take a physicist to realize that motion and fizzy drinks do not go together. I opened the can, and it exploded.

It was the volcano erupting all over again. It exploded in a giant commotion of black fizzy liquid and we were both instantly covered. Through the dark, liquid veil now covering me, I could see that the stuff had coated his face as well as his shirt. Oh God. What had I done?

I heard a few snickers from the audience that had now gathered. A few who had been a bit too close were wiping the odd drops of Coke off their arms. I wanted to open my mouth and say sorry; I wanted to defy the laws of the universe and reverse time. But I froze to the spot as sticky Coke dripped from my face and ran down my neck and into my shirt.

I just wish I’d remained frozen, because it would have been preferable to what I decided to do next. I flung myself at Dimitri with a kind of mad panic and started wiping him. In a manic frenzy of hands I wiped his hair, his face, his shirt… God, his chest feels hard. But it wasn’t working, so I grabbed some tissues from my bag and continued. The tissues disintegrated in seconds and left little clumps of whiteness all over his face.

“Dimitri, I’m sorry… sorry… I’ve…” My voice cracked and quivered as I continued to paw at his shirt in the hopes that both the white clumps and the soda would disappear. Dimitri reached out and grabbed my hands in his. I stopped my madness and sighed apologetically. Our eyes locked, and in that moment I realized my glasses must have fallen off at some stage, too. I sighed again.

“It’s okay, Jane.” He smiled at me, and I crumbled inside. “Look at you.”

For the first time I acknowledged that I was also covered. I glanced down at my once white shirt—now brown and dripping. More sighs emanated from me.

“You can’t walk around like that,” he said. “Come. I’ve got something for you.” He gestured for me to follow. “I’ll be back soon,” he called out to the pack of women who’d been following him. “Have a look around in the meantime, and if you have any questions about the area, I’ll answer them when I get back.” I looked over at the women, and their faces all seemed to fall. The only questions they probably had involved which page in the Kama Sutra he was willing to try with them.

I lifted my bag off the ground with great difficulty and hoisted it back onto my shoulder with a loud outbreath from the effort of it all.

Dimitri looked at it curiously. “Do you carry that with you wherever you go?”

“Well, I might need something in it,” I explained.

“Like two hair straighteners?” He sounded amused but kept on walking.

“Excuse me.” I stopped walking. “There is a logical reason for that, by the way. The one is battery operated and the other is not. So I have a backup in case I can’t find a plug.”

Dimitri stopped walking and turned to face me. “In case of a hair-straightening emergency?”

“Exactly.”

“A life-or-death situation that requires you straighten your hair, or someone else’s, immediately?” He smiled at me and raised a questioning brow.

“Uh… sure. Why not?” Actually, when he put it like that, it did sound ridiculous to be lugging two hair straighteners around in my handbag. Not to mention all the brushes and creams and gels and lipsticks and, and, and…

“Are you a hairstylist?” he asked.

“A what?” I burst out laughing. I could barely handle my own hair, let alone others’. “No.”

“So what kind of hair emergency could you ever have?” He folded his arms in a slightly challenging manner.

“Well”—I folded mine, too—“in case my hair gets messy. Or in case…” I ran a hand over my head. My hair was perfect today; I’d managed to scrape it back this morning so all the curls were flat and my ponytail was silky and straight. “It’s humid here, so it might get frizzy or extra curly or… I don’t know. I just need them. Okay?” I was feeling somewhat irritated by this line of questioning. “Besides, why do you care if I have ten hair straighteners in my bag?”

Dimitri shrugged nonchalantly. “I was just wondering, that’s all.” He started walking again and I sighed. What was with all these questions? It wasn’t like we knew each other well enough for this. I didn’t want to get into a whole discussion with him about the ins and outs of my life and handbag and hair and Greek food or whatever else he was so persistent in trying to get out of me. This was how trouble started. I’m sure my biological mom had started with an innocent conversation, and look where that led. Knocked up. I stopped walking.

“Look, it’s fine, I’m just going to go,” I said quickly. “I have things to do today and I can’t really afford this detour. But thanks, and all.” I started to turn, and a hand reached out and stopped me.

“Come on, Jane. This will only take a second.” He took me by the shoulder and started to lead me down the streets, and I, for some stupid reason that was really beyond me, let him. We continued to walk for a little way, down some small winding roads and up a little hill, until we reached a large parking lot. I recognized his car immediately. He opened the trunk and pulled out two T-shirts wrapped in plastic and opened them both. DIMITRI’S TOURS.

“Not glamorous,” he said, handing me a red one and taking a green one for himself.

He smiled again. It had a languid, dreamy quality to it and for a second or two, before I mentally slapped myself silly, I glanced at his smiling lips. But then my eyes found themselves looking at something else entirely as he peeled his shirt off, tossed it aside, and stood there half naked. My eyes continued to drift down his body as if drawn there by some invisible force. The world immediately stopped spinning on its axis and that inconvenient voice came back.

You sooo want to run your tongue over his chest, don’t you? You bad, bad girl.

My eyes snapped up immediately and tried to focus on his face.

“You can change in the car,” Dimitri said, and opened the back door for me. The sudden terrifying image of me being half naked in the backseat of his car gripped me. No doubt he could see this on my face.

“I won’t look. Promise,” he said with a knowing smile. It was the kind of smile that said, “Anyway, I’ve already almost seen it all.”

I climbed into the car with my massive handbag, half tipping it as I went, and then began trying to peel my wet shirt off and slip the other one on while trying to stay out of window view. It was a tank top, not something I would usually wear. Ever. I was far too self-conscious about my arms to consider wearing something like that. But it was the lesser of two evils at this point. I stepped out of the car. Dimitri gave me the once-over and stopped at my shoulder.

“The strap, it’s…” He indicated the strap on my top, and I moved my fingers over it. My bra was twisted around it, and so was a strand of my sticky hair.

“Oh. Thanks.” I tried to untwist it and couldn’t.

“You mind?” he asked tentatively before reaching out toward the mess. As he did, his hand grazed my shoulder, and then at some stage, once the strand of hair had been loosened, he tucked it behind my ear.

The heavens and earth opened, the winds picked up, and the sea began to swell… no they didn’t. But when his fingertips touched my ear ever so slightly, it did feel like the single most erotic moment of my life. I gazed up at him in total silence, trying not to look at him in a way that implied I was freaking the fuck out.

“Perfect,” he said.

“Yes you are,” I screamed back at him in my mind.

His face broke into a broad smile and for a moment I wondered if I had actually said that out loud and not in my head at all. We stood there for a few minutes. He stopped smiling at me and started staring strangely instead. It soon became so uncomfortable that I felt compelled to break the eye contact. His face immediately turned apologetic. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare. It’s just… your eyes.”

I inwardly rolled those unnerving eyes of mine. This again. “Uhm… well. Okay. I better be off. Lots of ground to cover still…” I made a stupid hand gesture as if I was scanning my surroundings. “Lots to do, you know… no rest for the wicked and all that.” I tried to sound casual again. Epic fail.

“What have you been doing today?” he asked. Something behind him moved. I looked over his shoulder to see that all the women had appeared; they’d obviously decided not to wait for him, and they were attacking me with their accusing eyes and pouting in blatant disapproval.

“Oh. Nothing really, I’ve been looking for… well, you know, Dimitri.”

“Any luck?”

I shook my head. I wasn’t any nearer to finding my father than I had been a few days ago when I was thousands of miles away on the other side of the world.

“Take a break and join us. We’re going to the Cathedral of Saint John the Baptist.”

I looked over his shoulder again. The cobras had all risen out of the grass now and were ready to spit their venom at me. I gave a small, polite smile. “No thanks. I’ve still got a lot to do.” I started to walk off but felt a gentle hand on my shoulder again.

“It’s one hour, Jane.” His hand left my shoulder, and even though it had only been on it for the briefest moment, all my senses went into overdrive. I had to get away from him before I started to physically drool on him.

“I’ll make it worth your while,” he said with a perfectly sweet, innocent-looking smile, but all I could think about was…

“Have sex with me. Cathedral sex. Sex. Now.”

“No thanks!” It came out almost like a panicked cry for help and I tried to give him a smile that wouldn’t betray my feelings any further. I wiggled out of his grasp with a shoulder shrug and gave the ladies a tiny wave. “Bye. Have fun.” I started scuttling away.

“But, Jane, you haven’t lived until you’ve experienced the beauty and peace of standing inside it,” he called after me.

“It’s fine,” I shouted over my shoulder, “I think I can live without that.”