Where the Stars Still Shine(44)

After lunch, Georgia helps Evgenia into bed for a nap and Nikos returns a few minutes later. He looks in on his sleeping wife, then thanks us for coming over. “Georgia, I don’t know what I’d do without you and Phoebe. Caring for Evgenia is a full-time job.”

“It’s a blessing you have a strong, capable son to run the boat, eh?” His thick eyebrows nearly touch as he frowns, but before he can say anything, my grandma pats his shoulder and cuts him off. “Call me if you need a break. I’ve got nothing but time.”

As we walk down Mill Street, Georgia laces her fingers through mine. “Last evening I was visiting a friend of mine who owns a soap shop on Athens Street when I happened to see a young couple kissing on the sidewalk.”

My eyes go wide. If she knows—

“Relax.” She waves her hand. “Your father has no idea. But, my silence comes with a price.” She laughs. “That makes me sound so sinister, doesn’t it? Not so much a price as a very big favor in exchange for keeping your secret.”

I have nothing of value to offer her. Nothing of which I’m aware. “What?”

“Convince Alex to go visit his mother.”

“But—I can’t do that,” I protest. “Phoebe brought it up at dinner and he got mad at her.”

“Well, of course he did,” Georgia says. “She’s his sister and she was nagging him. You, Callista, are a beautiful girl, and beautiful girls can always persuade boys to do things they don’t want to do. Also, you’re smarter than he is. You’ll figure it out.”





Chapter 14


I’m curled up on my couch with the novel I bought downtown at the bookstore and a blanket against the chill that’s settled into the December evenings—something that surprises and delights me about Florida—when I hear a soft tap at my door. Alex called me from the dock a little while ago to tell me he was leaving, but maybe he’s come over to say good-bye in person. I smile to myself as I unfold and go to the door.

It’s my mom.

I pull her inside before anyone sees and close the outer door. There are no lights on in the house, but for all I know, Greg is watching from the window to make sure I don’t sneak out again.

“Mom, what are you doing here?”

She looks worse than the last time I saw her. The dark roots of her hair are bleeding into the platinum, and the fairy lights deepen the bruise-colored half circles beneath her eyes. Her signature red lips are too present on her washed-out face. I wrap my arms around her, but she feels different to me. Slight and insubstantial, an autumn leaf that could whirl away in the breeze. And she doesn’t hug me back.

“This is a real nice setup you’ve got here.” She touches a dangling vine on the philodendron hanging above the sink, then skims her fingertips along the countertop to the book I was reading. “Is this all it took to win you over to his side, Callie? Some books and a couple of expensive gadgets?”

“It’s not like that.” Except when she says it like that it makes me wonder if I have been seduced by stuff.

She picks up my cell phone and cocks her head at me. I can look up things on the Internet with that phone. It was expensive. “Oh?”

“Mom—”

“You left me there in jail.” The phone clatters when she drops it on the counter. “And went off with him as if I didn’t even exist.”

“That’s not true,” I say. “I didn’t have a choice. He’s my father.”

She lights a cigarette and I wince, thinking about the mini-lecture I just received from Greg about my pretend smoking habit. Then I feel bad for worrying about what he thinks. Maybe she’s right. She blows out a stream of smoke. “There’s always a choice, Callie.”

“What could I have done?”

“Well.” She drops down on the couch and props her feet up on the table. The black velveteen of her favorite ballerina flats is worn thin and the heels are rubbed down to nothing. “You’re still here, aren’t you?”

I’ve hidden some of the pocket money Greg has given me in the body of my guitar, and I have my pay from the gift shop now. There’s no reason why I couldn’t leave.

“I’m sorry.” I sit down beside her, not sure why I’m apologizing. I could ask her where she thinks I could have gone on my own, or how I would have found her, but this is my mother. She believes all of this is somehow my choice. And even though I know it’s her personality disorder that makes her believe this, I can’t silence the tiny voice in my head that agrees. “Aren’t you worried that you’ll be caught?”

Her face softens and she gives me a grin that dimples her cheek. “You should know by now that I’m excellent at not being found. And anyway, I won’t be here much longer. As soon as I have enough money for us to start over, we can get out of here.”

“How much did you get for the computer?”

“Fifty bucks.”

“Can you get it back?”

She laughs. “Why would I want to do that?”

“Because it was mine,” I say. “You stole it from me.”

She reaches out and touches my hair. It’s comforting and familiar and I want to press my head into her hand for more. I want her affection back. “We can go to Colorado the way we planned or”—I see the excitement flicker to life in her eyes as she ignores my question completely—“anywhere. We can go anywhere we want, Callie. We can be free.”