A Recipe for Daphne by Nektaria Anastasiadou (reading well .txt) 📕

took the water pitcher from him, their fingers brushed, just as they had when he had given her the chocolate box on Friday night. This time, however, instead of an urge to get away, she felt a dangerous flutter.

“Medium for me,” said Kosmas.

“I’ll take another,” said Rea.

Daphne stirred the coffee and water gently, just until the sugar melted. She removed the pot from the burner as soon as the coffee started to swell, filled the cups halfway, and then returned the pot to the flame in order to create a perfect foam. After the coffee had bubbled again, she let it rest a moment before topping up.

Kosmas took a sip. “The best I’ve ever had. Health to your hands.”

“Bravo, my doll,” said Rea, smiling at Daphne, “but a little too sweet. A medium should be—”

“Time for my biscuit terrine!” Aliki interrupted.

Daphne and Kosmas finished their coffees while Aliki cut and served slices of her semi-frozen cream and biscuit log. After the first bite, Rea said, “The perfect amount of sweetness!”

Of course, thought Daphne. Because Aliki made it, not me.

“I’d hire you any day,” said Kosmas.

Aliki blushed.

“Aliki’s an old-style City woman,” said Fanis, after he had scooped the last bit of melted chocolate cream from his plate. “She has golden hands.”

Gavriela tossed a shredded napkin onto the table and grabbed Kosmas’s οverturned coffee cup, but it was glued fast by the sandy dregs. “You’ll get your wish,” she said. “Look how hard I’m pulling.”

“Of course he will,” grumbled Julien.

Gavriela twisted the cup loose and peered inside. “I see a circle and a house: marriage and family happiness.”

“I do hope the lucky girl will take proper care of him.” Rea sighed.

“Amateur,” said Fanis, taking the cup. “You’re selling fairytales, Gavriela. Your circle is an upside-down head, which means that he isn’t going to. . . . Oh, never mind. Have it your way.”

Daphne looked at Kosmas. His face had turned the color of sour-cherry liqueur. A tiny dot of saliva had collected in the right corner of his lips. He was dying of embarrassment.

Gavriela clicked her tongue at Fanis, set Kosmas’s cup aside, and lifted Daphne’s. “You’ll have a child sooner than you expect.”

“Sorry, Auntie,” said Daphne, wondering if her face was now turning the same color as Kosmas’s. “No babies in my plans. At least, not for another five years.”

“I do hope you’ll be strict with your children,” said Rea. “Today’s mothers are too lenient.”

“My niece,” said Gavriela, “will be an ideal mother.”

“Were there any pillows?” Julien tapped a teaspoon against the tabletop. “My first mistress used to say that pillows were the sign of a good sex life.”

Aliki swung her chin from side to side like a pendulum. “Then we obviously will not be seeing any pillows in your grinds.”

Rea reached for the cup. “I see a mask, just there! That means secrets and deception. Either someone is deceiving you, Daphne, or there is something you aren’t telling us.”

“Mama, enough,” said Kosmas.

It was the first time that Daphne had heard him use so stern a tone with his mother. Still, Daphne was capable of defending herself. “Look, Madame Rea, I don’t have anything to hide. Μy father—”

The call to prayer sounded from the local mosque. “It’s getting late!” said Dimitris. He winked conspiratorially at Daphne, although she couldn’t understand why, and then continued: “Our lovely Ritsa needs plenty of time to get down to the quay.”

Aliki leaned toward Fanis. “You look tired. You know, I have an extra room if you’d like to stay the night.”

Julien dropped the teaspoon he’d been tapping. “You want him to stay the night?”

“Tired,” said Fanis. “It’s like saying, ‘We will be visiting you in the cemetery soon.’”

Aliki fluttered her blue-powdered eyelids. “I didn’t mean it that way. I just thought you might like to take a little break.”

Julien looked importunately at Aliki. “I would love a rest.”

“Another time, Professeur. I’ve only got one guest room.”

“Come on, Prof,” said Kosmas, patting Julien’s shoulder. “The ride back will be boring without you. Besides, we have to remember what they say about the one who leaves, don’t we? And the other ten who come to take her place?”

“You can’t sell Father’s gifts back to Father,” Julien grumbled.

Kosmas shook his head, crossed to the other side of the table, and helped Julien to his feet. As he did so, Daphne took another look at his little posterior. It was almost cute.

Taking advantage of the commotion, Dimitris whispered in Daphne’s ear: “All things in their time, my girl, all things in their time!”

13

Sweet Nymph and Old Hag

After the others had gone, Fanis helped carry the tea and coffee things into the kitchen. An hour later, while he was enjoying his last tea on the patio and admiring the vinca vines, which were turning a glowing orange-green in the pre-sunset light, Aliki appeared in the doorway with her purse in hand.

“Let’s go have some fun,” she said.

“How?” asked Fanis.

“We can take a phaeton to the promontory, have lamb ribs for dinner, and get drunk.”

“I’m in,” said Fanis.

They locked up the house and walked arm in arm to one of the streets where phaetons queued for customers. The first in line was a red carriage with turquoise seats. Fanis haggled for his usual senior discount, then said to Aliki, “When ascending stairs or entering carriages, in the interests of propriety, men should always precede women.”

With that he climbed inside and offered both hands to Aliki. But even with his help, she couldn’t manage to take more than one foot off the ground. The driver tossed aside his whip and offered to help by giving a boost from behind. After some strategic planning and a coordinated effort, Aliki finally landed on the carriage seat with a jolt that startled the horses. Fanis straightened his sweater vest. The driver wiped his brow, threw away the cigarette that had been hanging from his mouth, hopped onto his bench, and snapped the reins.

It wasn’t exactly the ride with Daphne that Fanis had planned