Page 73 of Chosen Road

“Kala, pouli mou. Ti kaneis?”

As she passed me to go see Yiayia, she briefly rested her hand over my biceps and gave me a gentle squeeze.

I stood still for a solid minute fighting back tears. I think that touch marked the first time she’d initiated a touch. I swallowed hard and gave my head a small shake, then walked to Amber’s desk and set the files down neatly on the right-hand corner.

She had a system. They started on the right, she brought them to the centre in front of her laptop, then, when finished, they joined the pile on the left.

Many were the nights I judged her readiness to come to bed based on the number of files piled on the right-hand corner.

Her ceramic mug, with the cover to keep her tea warm, sat in its usual position. I’d moved nothing. I picked it up for the first time and crossed to the sink to rinse it out, then flicked on the kettle.

I went to the cupboard and chose the hot chocolate instead of her usual camomile tea. She was far too thin. I looked in the fridge. What goes with hot chocolate? It was only ten o’clock in the morning. Was it too early for cake? I bought a pound cake for Yiayia. She liked her sweets. So did Amber. I’d risk it.

I cut a thick slice then cut it into bite-sized squares on a plate with a tiny fork. She’d like that.

I got a second plate for Yiayia, and she got the same treatment. She’d grump at me for treating her like a baby who can’t cut her own food, but she’d eat it. What she wouldn’t drink was hot chocolate. For her it was Greek coffee or regular coffee. I decided to go Greek. Once you go Greek you can never go back, I joked to myself.

It occurred to me suddenly that I was happy, truly happy, just from having Amber back under my roof. Now, how to keep her here.

I brought Yiayia her coffee and set it on the side table at her left hand so she could easily reach it.

“Amber, do you want yours here or at your desk?”

Her eyes darted nervously up to mine. “At my desk.”

I gave her a nod and said, “Okay,” taking care to keep my voice neutral.

After setting her hot chocolate with its cover on her desk, I collected the cake and brought it over to them with a glass of water for Amber.

“Why you cut my food up like I’m two months old?” Yiayia grumped.

I passed Amber her plate. “You mean like I did Amber’s?” I asked, feigning surprise.

Yiayia turned her head to look and Amber’s plate suspiciously. “Humph. He always do like that for you?”

Amber nodded and her smile faded slightly. “Yes, Yiayia. He always did. He brought me treats while I was working and made it easy for me to eat.” She cleared her throat and looked up at me. “Thank you, Gus.”

I wondered if she was thanking me for the plate of food I served her, or if she was thanking me for all the times I fed her at her desk.

She smiled tremulously.

All of a sudden, I had no smile in me. When did I stop feeding her at her desk? When did I decide I would no longer enable her to avoid me? Because that’s how I thought of it back then. I wondered now how much her avoidance had to do with me and how much it had to do with her work and other triggers.

She rolled her lips between her teeth, her eyes skittering over my face.

Finally, I answered. “You’re always welcome, beautiful.”

Amber

Gus and Alex left shortly afterwards, and Yiayia went for a nap, which was only to be expected according to her doctor.

Although I tried to appear confident and optimistic about Yiayia’s health, there were dark moments when I believed the worst. During those times I threw myself harder into my work. There was not much I could do about Yiayia aging, but if I worked a little harder, I might have some control over the outcomes for my young clients.

I sighed.

With some of them, Mallory included, I wondered if it wouldn’t be easier to discover the means of reversing the aging process. I shouldn’t complain. She spoke to me about school last week, and David.

Ugh.

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