Greece 1913: Finding Love
A short story of family, yearnings, and fate
Fresh air, cool for the Attic peninsula, wafted in from the window. A perfect day, even though it was Monday. The morning sun set the dish of strawberries aglow. The scent of brandy tickled Tassos’s nose. He felt his mother’s hand on his shoulder as she deftly put a cup of coffee beside the fruit. A cookie from Lamia, thickly coated with powdered sugar and sitting on frilled paper, came next. She smelled of laundry soap. Her long skirt swished on the floor as she busied herself in the kitchen.
“Mama, why aren’t the others here? And what did I do to earn this breakfast?” Tassos knew — without a doubt — he, as her firstborn son, was her favorite, though this level of favoritism seemed out of bounds.
“It’s not what you did, but what you are going to do, Tassos,” she chuckled. “The weather is beginning to warm up. I want you to help me with the carpets this morning. Your father let you sleep in. He and your brothers went on ahead to the olive trees. The girls are outside. If you carry all the carpets up to the roof and help me spread them out, then the girls and I can clean them. You can roll them up when they’re dry and put them away for the summer. I think such help is worth a berry or two, don’t you?”
He turned to smile at her. The light from the window glinted in her deep brown…
