Page 95 of My Turkish Fling
The rest of the day was a blur of wedding activities, drinks, food, group photos and painful small talk. At some point, I had to put my camera aside and become a full-time translator for my father who wanted to discuss child-rearing, education, and opportunities in New Zealand with Aria’s dad. More specifically, he wanted to make it clear the child would never be okay on a remote island like this, with no proud Ottoman history of learning and innovation. I did my best to soften his words, but poor Greg could probably tell the true meaning from his passionate frown.
Cem settled in between our mom and Aria’s mother, for what seemed like a friendlier conversation. This was my lot— dealing with Dad and his rants, saving my brother’s ass. This time, I could tell he appreciated it, glancing over every time Dad raised his voice, casting me a grateful look.
The sun set and the strange wedding party fizzled out. Sober drives were organized for the vehicles outside and our parents retreated to their guest room.
With the catering packed away and the happy couple hiding somewhere, Janie found me on the deck, stripping tablecloths off the tables. For a moment, there was nobody else around.
She began unfastening another tablecloth, keeping her voice low. “What time are you leaving tomorrow?”
“Dad made me order a taxi for seven a.m. He’s worried about making the flight.”
Her eyes widened. “That’s early.”
“I know.”
“I’m exhausted. I’ll have to set three alarms to wake up before you go. Make breakfast.”
“There are plenty of leftovers.” I gestured at the doorway leading to the kitchen.
“But I want to see you, for the last time.”
“I’ll be with my parents. I can’t even touch you... Not unless you want to tell them—”
“No. Not today.” She bit her lip, eyes watery. “Maybe we should say goodbye now. I don’t want your last image of me to be one with puffy morning eyes and no makeup.”
I shook my head. “You’re always gorgeous. But if this is the last time we can talk in private, maybe we need to say goodbye now.”
She huffed. “I hate goodbyes.”
“It’s not a goodbye forever. Only for a while.”
“You don’t know. We live worlds apart and life on this side of forty is not that kind.”
“It was kind enough to bring us together,” I tried.
How was I the optimistic one? I’d been angry at life for so long, and now these thoughts were popping up without warning. Thoughts of hope, spurred by pain-free moments. “This is a good thing, Janie. Love is always a good thing.”
She dropped the rolled-up tablecloth on the table and glanced over her shoulder. There was nobody around. Blinking her tears away, she crashed into my chest, wrapping her arms around me. I hugged her tightly, inhaling her scent like a drug. It’s just a hug,I told myself. But I knew that if anyone saw us, we’d be exposed.
“We’ll see each other again, Janie. We’ll find a way.”
She cried almost silently. Broke my heart without a sound, and I held her for as long as I could, until a noise from the kitchen gave us both a start. Within seconds, she was gone.
Chapter 38
Janie
“Janie? Did you hear what I said?”
Tabitha’s booming voice send a shiver down my spine, and I made an effort to sit up. “Yes, I heard you.”
I’d been distracted throughout the Art Deco Gala committee meeting, and she knew it.
“Well, it’s settled then. Janie will MC on Saturday. My nephew Gus will handle the video production. We don’t have a still photographer, unless that Turkish friend of yours is available?”
I startled at the mention of Emir, the mask I fancied myself wearing in public momentarily slipping. I’d joined the committee to keep my mind off Emir, as if it was possible. I’d also hoped it would be too late to rope me into anything too high profile, yet I could say I’d supported the cause.
“No, he’s not,” I managed to say, my cheeks blazing like two tiny heaters.
