Page 28 of Footprints in the Sand
“I can only imagine,” William said. “I’ve always been a lover of Greek mythology. The Greek goddess Dimitra has always been a favorite of mine. But she came to Hades in a rage. I imagine you came to Martha’s Vineyard in a cloud of your own emotion,” he said to Dimitra.
Dimitra recognized he was flirting with her, toying with her now that she’d made such a fool of herself. But she got the sense that she hadn’t fully ruined her chances of an art sale, not yet.
“I came to Martha’s Vineyard for inspiration,” Dimitra said.
“Is it working?” William asked.
Dimitra hadn’t yet put a pencil to a pad of paper. She hadn’t yet mixed any paint. She’d unpacked everything, laid everything out in the spare room downstairs, one that she’d decided would be her studio.
But she felt haunted, guarded, and unsure. She was worried that her house-swap with Eva wasn’t as successful as she’d hoped for. She was worried it would be a waste of time for both of them.
To William, she said, “Martha’s Vineyard is a remarkable place. It’s going to take my art in new directions. I don’t think I can fully fathom it yet.”
“I look forward to seeing your paintings soon,” William said, reaching out to take her hand. “Oriana always introduces me to the most fascinating artists.”
With that, William turned and left Oriana and Dimitra alone in the little side room. Oriana gasped and squeezed Dimitra’s arm happily. “I don’t know what kind of Greek magic you just performed on him, but I’ve never seen him so interested in someone!”
Dimitra laughed nervously and rubbed her arm where Oriana had squeezed it a little too hard. Oriana was talkingfast, outlining what would happen next, now that William was interested. But Dimitra wondered if she was compromising her morals by selling to such a wealthy man. Was she making art for the wrong reasons? Had she changed since Kostos’s death?
Chapter Fourteen
Paros Island - July 2025
It had been three weeks since Eva’s arrival on Paros Island and a little more than two since she lost her job. Everything about her life had shifted. Maybe it was a good thing. Perhaps the only way to grow was to till the soil of everything left behind.
Miraculously, Eva had fallen into a nice, easy rhythm of swimming, eating seafood, going for hikes, drinking wine with Aphrodite, and doing social media for Jean-Paul’s marble workshop. Since he’d hired her, his marble workshop attendance had more than tripled, with tourists coming from Parikia and Naoussa to spend hours working with slightly dangerous machinery. Nobody had been hurt. What they made—bowls, plates, jewelry, and little sculptures—was often posted to social media, and Eva loved seeing what everyone came up with (especially because it was often just as bad as what she’d made that first day). Jean-Paul was very pleased. He was making more than he ever had.
The first week of July, Jean-Paul drove to Aliki to pay Eva for the work she’d done so far. It was an all-cash payment, tucked away in an envelope. Eva burst out laughing when she saw all the euros in a stack. She felt like she’d done something illegal for him.
“Is there a problem?” Jean-Paul asked, his brow furrowed as he stood on Dimitra’s front stoop.
“There’s no problem,” Eva said. “Thank you for the payment.”
Internally, she thought,I need to get a real job soon. This is not sustainable.But she’d decided to live out the rest of the summer like this, enjoying herself and thinking. It was the most reckless she’d felt in her whole life. She’d come to no new conclusions, not about Finn, nor about her career, nor about any “artistic practice” she might want to do. When she got back to Martha’s Vineyard, she’d probably get another internet job and pick back up on her old life.
Her old life, minus Finn. Her old life, minus love and a future.
Since that first day at the marble workshop, she’d also thought a lot about what Jean-Paul had said about Kostos, Dimitra’s dead husband. But any time she brought up Kostos with any villagers, they refused to talk about it, or they said what a tragedy it was that Kostos had died so young and left Dimitra alone, without children. (People were really fixated on the fact that Dimitra hadn’t had children, which frightened Eva. She was only twenty-eight, but she had to find a whole new partner, spend years with him to determine if she wanted to marry him, and then eventually get married and have children. It felt like so much work.)
It was the Fourth of July. Aphrodite was busy cleaning a few Airbnbs for tourists, while Eva read at the beach and monitored a social media campaign for Jean-Paul. Mostly, she was sadbecause she would be missing the family’s Fourth of July barbecue at Estelle and Roland’s place. She wanted to be there.
But then Nico texted her out of nowhere, telling her it had been too long since they’d hung out. He wanted to take her sailing. He wanted to show her around the island in the best possible way—by sea.
EVA: Where have you been? I haven’t seen you in forever.
NICO: I’ve been working, but now I want to celebrate. Meet me at the harbor at two?
Eva agreed because she didn’t know what else to do. Plus, she’d thought Nico had been avoiding her, and the fact that he’d initially been so interested in her and then backed away gnawed at her. What could she say? She was an inexperienced dater.Maybe I deserve a little fling?she thought for the first time. But then she panged, thinking of Jean-Paul alone in his studio.
Had she already—accidentally—given Jean-Paul her heart?
Don’t be ridiculous, Eva, she reprimanded herself. Jean-Paul had given her no indication that he was falling in love with her, nor that he even thought of her outside of a business relationship.
At two ten, Eva and Nico sailed out from the Aliki harbor and into the open turquoise waters between Anti-Paros and Paros Islands. Nico played music on a small speaker and sang along, moving easily around the boat. They sailed for about fifteen minutes before they reached a place called The Blue Lagoon—an area of absolutely stunning water between two small and rocky islands. Nico dropped the anchor, took off his shirt, and leaped into the water. Eva laughed and peered over at him, where he floated and smiled up at her. It felt like a dream.
“Come on!” Nico called. “The water’s fine!”
Eva stepped back to pull her dress off, revealing the bikini beneath. The first time she’d worn this particular suit had been two years ago in Italy with Finn, and he’d been nervous, asking her to cover up if she wore the suit by itself for too long. Had he been a prude? Or just possessive over her? She didn’t know. She’d dismissed it at the time, happy to make Finn happy.
