From Igoumenitsa, Milos’s cousin picked them up and drove them to the main town on Lefkada. In the back of his cousin’s truck, Milos clasped her hand. “I swear, it will be wonderful, my love.”

Chapter Fourteen

Joey

Corfu
2004

“What do you think?” asked Joey.

“What do you think, Joey mou?” asked Demetris.

Joey exhaled, fluffing up the bangs she’d tragically allowed a local hairdresser to snip. “Like, you see the right eye. The light is hitting there, so I’ve shaded the other half, but the left eye looks more real. More potent. But still off, a bit. What I really want is to merge evil eye geometric intensity into human form.” This summer, she’d been playing with a more geometric style and studying the greats of geometric abstraction, like Kandinsky.

She thought about telling Demetris that Leo was her inspiration, that his eyes had woken this in her, but she held back, not ready to reveal it to Demetris before she’d even revealed it to Leo. That piece felt fragile somehow. Maybe she felt fragile, ever since Leo’s bombshell about dropping out of school for a yachting career.

Demetris brushed his fingers across the bottom part of the canvas, where Joey had begun to outline Leo’s right forearm. Joey could tell he was waiting for her to say more.

“I think it’s an interesting start,” she said.

“But…”

“But I want to capture more.” She closed her eyes and thought about everything that had been simmering in Leo, of which she hadn’t been aware. “Fire, and also peace. But can I possibly show both?”

Joey wavered, a stage of the creation process with which she wasn’t very intimate. She often felt that she’d emerged from the womb with an artistic compass. People always marveled at her clear talent, passion, and dedication. Maybe it wasn’t humble for Joey to say, but she was just really good at art.

“Why am I in doubt now, Demetris? I’m not usually in doubt.”

Demetris just smiled. “Joey, people resent doubt. Have you noticed that? Doubt! You go right in the corner and get out immediately. Am I right?”

Joey smiled a little. “Maybe.”

“When doubt comes, what you do is you switch to ink.”

“Ink? I’m only still sketching.”

“You see? You think ink is an unforgiving medium. You see how you regard ink!”

Joey gripped her canvas. She didn’t want to expose it yet to ink.

“You have a doubt, paidi mou? It’s all good. Some artists have analyzed so much what comes naturally. Some artists think all it takes is a little more pain and suffering.”

“I don’t want to suffer,” said Joey. “Art is fun. Art is light.” She felt her body release something in response to those words.