Awakenings: The Greek, The Russian and Me

Chapter18

We sit down at the small table and place food on our plates. I notice that he doesn't put much food on his plate and ask, "Aren't you hungry?"

He smiles in a very seductive way. "Very, but at night it's better to eat light," he replies with a wink. Feeling self-conscious, I only serve myself a few pieces of shrimp and a few spoonfuls of white rice. "What time do you have to be home?" he asks.

"I don't have a time. My mom is out of town this week; she is in Florida helping my aunt who recently had a baby," I say.

"Then stay with me the night, and I'll take you home tomorrow morning," he says as his eyes promise a night of pleasure.

I smile. "I'm not sure I should."

He laughs and he asks, "And why not?" with a twinkle in his eyes.

Unable to refrain from giggling nervously, I say, "You might spank me again."

He laughs as he refills our glasses with wine. "But you liked it, didn't you?"

I look at the glass of wine and say, "I don't think I should drink any more of that. It makes me kind of crazy."

He continues to laugh. "It doesn't make you crazy; it just relaxes you so you don't think so hard all the time. But if you don't want wine, there is water or wine coolers in the fridge."

Feeling childish, I grab the glass of wine and drink. We finish our meal in relative silence as I contemplate all the reasons I should go home now and then argue with all the reasons why I should stay. I notice the wine bottle is empty and say, "Oh, we finished your Cyprus wine; it was very good."

He clears the table and places the plates in the sink. "I don't have any more of that wine, but I have something called ouzo. It's a traditional Greek drink, but it may be too strong for you."

"I would like to try it," I say meekly, wanting to immerse myself in his world. He looks at me questioningly for a moment and then reaches for a fresh glass and fills it with ice, then halfway with water and halfway with a clear liquid that he takes from a small bottle in his fridge. I watch him with fascination and ask, "Where is your drink?"

He laughs as he hands me the drink. "I don't think you are going to be able to drink this or that you are going to like it, so I figure you can have a sip, and I'll drink the rest."

I take the glass and smell its contents curiously. It smells sweet. I take a small sip. The liquid is very cold and sweet to the taste. He is watching me attentively as I take another longer sip and then exclaim, "It tastes like licorice; it's not at all strong. I like it." I take another sip. He smiles and then heads to the counter and pours him- self some ouzo in a shot glass. "Why does mine have water and yours doesn't?" I question.

"Yours is watered down so you don't get tipsy, and I'm used to drinking it straight," he replies a matter-of-factly.

"Nonsense, this isn't strong at all. You forget that I'm of age to drink," I reply hotly.
"No, you're not. You only just turned nineteen," he replies, laughing.
"Well, don't you remember? I'm part Hispanic and part Italian, so in my parents' countries, I'm of legal age," I say as I take another sip.

"Stay the night, and I'll let you try one shot of ouzo," he croons in my ear as he nibbles gently.

Undecided as ever, my body is screaming stay, and my mind is saying go home. I close my eyes and say, "Let's watch something on the TV."

He grins, and we head over to the TV as he channel- surfs. I watch him, and in a split second my mouth utters, "Yes," and he turns to kiss me gently on the lips. He gets up, and I feel disoriented for a moment as he walks to the kitchen and pours a shot of ouzo. Feeling restless, I meet him halfway and smile as he says, "As promised."