Awakenings: The Greek, The Russian and Me

Chapter 17

The following weeks are crazy. I work long hours at the airport trying to gather money for summer school tuition, and on days off I go to the coffee shop to help Pete and his family. Pete's mom is responding to treatment, and the general mood around the shop is of hope. My friendship with Pete and his family increasingly grows, as I seem to be one of the few outside people whom they feel comfortable sharing their anxiety with. Mr. Papadopoulos loses a lot of weight during the month that follows as he worries about his wife and spends long hours by her side at the hospital. My heart breaks when I listen to him talk about her. You can see the love they share is strong. The coffee shop has a beautiful silver-plated icon of Mary holding baby Jesus on the back wall near the register, and I find myself many times silently praying for Mrs. Papadopoulos's health.

My friendship with Erik and his family also grows. We sit together during class and often meet early to study together. Erik isn't clinging or demanding; he knows about Pete's mom and often asks how she is doing. I'm also able to confide in him my fears for her health. I find that I can talk to Erik about anything, and he will listen and never be judgmental. I find my feelings toward him growing and my attraction to him increasing. Though he has never tried to kiss me again, I can see in his eyes the desire every time there's a careless brush of our skin or a lingering look. His cousins have stopped inquiring if we are dating, and the few times during this past month that I was able to pick him up from work because his car was in the shop, his aunt and uncle would greet me as part of the family and insist that I eat something. I feel welcomed and strangely loved by a family that I'm still getting to know.

Conn has called a few times, and I can't bring my- self to return the calls. I'm so hurt and angry. My heart and body yearn for him, but our last interaction gave me much to think about. So I try my hardest to keep myself busy and not have time to think about him. Until one day at the end of May, I stay in school late and notice a crowd gathering. I approach the second-floor rails, which over- look an atrium on the lower level, and notice that it is decorated. I see a small band assembled in a corner, and they are tuning their instruments. A few minutes later, they begin to play a very lively tune, and the audience begins to clap. The music is very happy and catchy, and I also find myself clapping and smiling. Moments later a group of dancers enters the area. The men are wearing white shirts with puffy sleeves, red vests with detailed embroidery, black pants that look more like a cross be- tween pants and a skirt that ends below the knee, and black tights or socks with black shoes. The women wear long red dresses, long vests that go halfway down the dresses and are embroidered, black head coverings, and black shoes. Their costumes are very pretty. Soon the men and the women are positioning themselves to start a dance as the band begins to play a new tune. They dance in couples; then the song changes, and they dance in circles. I'm amazed, watching them and clapping along with everyone else. Then my heart drops as I see him. Conn is there dancing with the group. He looks glorious in full Greek folklore costume. I can't keep my eyes off him, and during a break in the dances, he looks up in my direction, and our eyes meet. Feeling all the sensations whirl once again inside me, I leave the rail and head to the library.

A while later, I hear a familiar heavily accented voice say, "Is this seat taken?" I turn to see him there in full costume and just stare at him; then I turn back to my textbook. He pulls the chair out and sits down. "You look lovely. Did you like the performance?" he says in a low voice.

"The dance was very interesting and the music lively. I've never seen traditional Greek dancing before," I reply without looking at him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I've tried calling you several times, and you never return my calls. I miss you."

I feel the barriers that I have built around my heart weaken with his proximity and his words. "You used me, and the night I called you after our first time, your room- mate said you were at a club. Then I didn't hear from you for days," I reply bitterly.