I would like to see you. I would like to put my hand to your face and look into those eyes of yours and laugh and cry. If you are married, it’s okay. I respect it. If we cannot do this in person, perhaps on some video contraption. Perhaps my granddaughters can arrange it. I will talk in Greek. I want to see you right away. Please, Milos. Please.

It is peculiar, Milos, but after writing this terrible note to you, I feel a little bit happy. I am going to go sit in my garden with my rosebushes. Speak to you soon, Milos mou.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Joey

Florida
2019

Joey was still thinking about the eyes when she stepped onto the sand. The eyes were the heart of her portrait. More subtle than anything she’d done before. She couldn’t quite believe she was the creator of this. Maybe the nose needed to come down. Yes, the nose was slightly smaller than she’d sketched it. But she’d gotten the backdrop right. The streakiest navy—unhinged. She hadn’t felt this way about a piece before, so wild, so trusting.

She’d need the entire night, but she had confidence in her ability to pull it off. She’d asked Edith to stay out of the foyer until it was done. She had to get the eyes right. And fix the nose. The rest just needed shading and coaxing.

As Demetris always used to say, It’s not you moving the brush!

Joey saw the eyes first—blue that mirrored the water. She kicked up sand as she walked to her sister.

*  *  *

Lily straddled the waterline—feet in wet sand, butt in the precariously dry part. She had on a red flannel crop top, distressed black bike shorts, and massive opaque black sunglasses.

“Hey,” said Lily as Joey sat beside her.

“Hey.” Joey stretched out her feet to meet the wave rolling in. “Is this your beachy outfit?”

“It’s all washable. How about you? Where are the five people you’re hiding under that muumuu?”

Joey glanced down at her white eyelet midi dress. It was a little tentlike, maybe, but tentlike was in. “It’s my painting outfit today. I wore an apron over it. And I wear it in real life too.” Water droplets smattered on Joey’s shoulders. She hoped it wouldn’t rain.

“So looking ugly helps you paint better?”

“Thanks, Lil. Remind me why I came out here to meet you?”

“Oh, Joey.” Lily gasped. “I’m really angry at you.”

Joey piled sand into a little mound. She studied the imprint her fingers made on top. “I only found out a week before you. I thought it was best to wait to tell you after the wedding.”