her work first, putting his safety and protection first, following through with the supposed calling on our family. I get it. Okay?” I stood and headed toward home.
Adamos matched me stride for stride. “You never asked to be thrust into the middle of this ancient battle. I understand.” He left his thoughts dangling, filled with the unspoken conclusion that I’d made the wrong decision.
Adamos always made quiet suggestions, and left me to piece together the wisdom. But this time, I’d made up my mind. Nothing would change that but it was my turn to leave him with my cryptic thoughts.
“I have to do my part but that doesn’t include hiding in my room because Mom wants to be the sacrificial parent. I’m not going to help by spending all my time watching birds and keeping company with a total slime ball.”
Adamos nodded, soaking in the realization that I wasn’t going to sit back anymore begging for crumbs of attention or information from Mom.
“I proved in Paris that I can make my own decisions and I can here too.” My arms trembled with the adrenaline surge that came with risky choices, but I meant every word. I’d do this my way, even if all I wanted to do was run away with Malcolm. I’d go home and after Mom went to bed, I’d pack and slip out the window.
He was slow to answer on the trip back. We walked side-by-side, in silence, drifting through the streets as shops closed for the day and the nightlife kick started. Close to home, he finally stopped.
“I’m not in the position to warn you on the risks of what you’re considering.” His carefully guarded emotions peeled back to reveal the soft underside of my Greek bodyguard. Past regrets and mistakes lingered in his expression as he talked. “I left my faith, my brethren, for what I felt was a new calling that I couldn’t ignore. My brothers laughed at my visions and scoffed at my emerging beliefs in what they meant. Eventually, I stopped sharing with them and formed plans.” He paused and glanced toward the lights in my home, the silhouette of Mom in the window. “I will never play God with you. But think carefully before you live with your enemy. Make sure it is your only choice.”
With that, he squeezed my hand and then faded into the shadows surrounding my house. Was this my only choice? No. I could run away with Malcolm, which when I allowed myself to fantasize about that, a thrill of anticipation ran through me. But I didn’t want to run away. I could continue to hang out with Mom and wait for a chance to prove myself. But that could take years.
After another ten minutes of debating, I decided to talk with Mom one last time, beg her to include me and answer my questions. I strode up the tiny stone walkway and entered through the front door.
“Good evening, Savvy.”
Mom sat on the couch, a suitcase at her feet. She smiled but it wasn’t the kind of smile that said welcome home. More like she’d made a decision and knew I wouldn’t like it. A cold anger strained her face: her eyelids twitched and her nostrils flared every few seconds. She clasped her hands tight in her lap, her fingers a dull white from the pressure. She’d obviously checked my room and figured out I’d rebelled and left without her permission.
Any thoughts of asking and begging faded. A fresh stubbornness emerged, stronger than ever, and I gained a new confidence behind my decision.
“Going away for an overnight with Constance?” I asked, playing a dangerous game.
“No, Savvy.” She didn’t try to hide the hurt in her eyes at my barb.
I clapped my hands with fake glee. “Are we visiting Dad?” When she shook her head no, I said, “I know we’re not leaving Athens because you’d never leave a job unfinished. So please, tell me, I can’t bear the suspense.”
She spoke in her quiet but stern mom voice. “I’ve contacted a friend in England who owes me a favor. He’s agreed to take you in until this ordeal is over and I can meet you
Adamos matched me stride for stride. “You never asked to be thrust into the middle of this ancient battle. I understand.” He left his thoughts dangling, filled with the unspoken conclusion that I’d made the wrong decision.
Adamos always made quiet suggestions, and left me to piece together the wisdom. But this time, I’d made up my mind. Nothing would change that but it was my turn to leave him with my cryptic thoughts.
“I have to do my part but that doesn’t include hiding in my room because Mom wants to be the sacrificial parent. I’m not going to help by spending all my time watching birds and keeping company with a total slime ball.”
Adamos nodded, soaking in the realization that I wasn’t going to sit back anymore begging for crumbs of attention or information from Mom.
“I proved in Paris that I can make my own decisions and I can here too.” My arms trembled with the adrenaline surge that came with risky choices, but I meant every word. I’d do this my way, even if all I wanted to do was run away with Malcolm. I’d go home and after Mom went to bed, I’d pack and slip out the window.
He was slow to answer on the trip back. We walked side-by-side, in silence, drifting through the streets as shops closed for the day and the nightlife kick started. Close to home, he finally stopped.
“I’m not in the position to warn you on the risks of what you’re considering.” His carefully guarded emotions peeled back to reveal the soft underside of my Greek bodyguard. Past regrets and mistakes lingered in his expression as he talked. “I left my faith, my brethren, for what I felt was a new calling that I couldn’t ignore. My brothers laughed at my visions and scoffed at my emerging beliefs in what they meant. Eventually, I stopped sharing with them and formed plans.” He paused and glanced toward the lights in my home, the silhouette of Mom in the window. “I will never play God with you. But think carefully before you live with your enemy. Make sure it is your only choice.”
With that, he squeezed my hand and then faded into the shadows surrounding my house. Was this my only choice? No. I could run away with Malcolm, which when I allowed myself to fantasize about that, a thrill of anticipation ran through me. But I didn’t want to run away. I could continue to hang out with Mom and wait for a chance to prove myself. But that could take years.
After another ten minutes of debating, I decided to talk with Mom one last time, beg her to include me and answer my questions. I strode up the tiny stone walkway and entered through the front door.
“Good evening, Savvy.”
Mom sat on the couch, a suitcase at her feet. She smiled but it wasn’t the kind of smile that said welcome home. More like she’d made a decision and knew I wouldn’t like it. A cold anger strained her face: her eyelids twitched and her nostrils flared every few seconds. She clasped her hands tight in her lap, her fingers a dull white from the pressure. She’d obviously checked my room and figured out I’d rebelled and left without her permission.
Any thoughts of asking and begging faded. A fresh stubbornness emerged, stronger than ever, and I gained a new confidence behind my decision.
“Going away for an overnight with Constance?” I asked, playing a dangerous game.
“No, Savvy.” She didn’t try to hide the hurt in her eyes at my barb.
I clapped my hands with fake glee. “Are we visiting Dad?” When she shook her head no, I said, “I know we’re not leaving Athens because you’d never leave a job unfinished. So please, tell me, I can’t bear the suspense.”
She spoke in her quiet but stern mom voice. “I’ve contacted a friend in England who owes me a favor. He’s agreed to take you in until this ordeal is over and I can meet you
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