Chapter 27
ANNA
“I know what you want to do,” Holly says, giving me a sidelong glance.
We’re a couple of miles into our hike from Fira to Oia along the Santorini Caldera.
The clifftop walk along a mixed paved-and-dirt trail came at the recommendation of the hotel’s concierge when Holly asked for day adventure ideas. She leapt at this suggestion.
Shocking, given her fear of heights, but her insistence she walk on solid ground alongside sloping hills and steep drop-offs was the lesser of the two evils the concierge raved about, the other being a half-day boat tour of the caldera.
Even I agree one boating adventure this trip is enough.
I sling her a look and snatch my hand from my bag. Reaching for my phone is such a habit.
“Don’t think I haven’t noticed.” The left side of her mouth quirks into a half-smile.
I blow a raspberry. “That’s ridiculous.” Though it’s not. I’m dying to take pictures of this gorgeous place. I’ve been neglecting my Luxe Vacations social media but this—I soak in my surroundings on a deep inhale—would light up my followers.
“You haven’t touched your phone since we arrived,” Holly says with what sounds like a combination of surprise and suspicion.
I slump, avoiding eye contact. For once, I wish Holly wasn’t so observant.
I look at her with a mix of hope and doubt. “I don’t want to do anything that reminds you of before.” And me using my phone’s camera would do exactly that.
Holly’s jaw flexes as she gazes across the Mediterranean toward Thirasia, and my heart thumps as much from exertion as from what she must be thinking. Zoe sent us here not to address old wounds, but to make a fresh start. I intend to do exactly that. Hopefully, Holly is on board.
Holly’s eyes finally meet mine. “I know,” she says with a visible swallow, a hand fluttering to catch a stray curl.
“I’m not like that anymore.” Careless and self-absorbed. To a point, that is.
“I’m seeing that,” Holly admits.
Despite the serene setting, nerves kick in and I begin to babble. “I swear, I’m not touching my phone until we get back on the plane.”
Her brows lift. “At all?”
“Mostly?” I say with a sheepish shrug. I did text Leo when we made it to Greece to say that I was still alive. The plane didn’t crash, and Holly hasn’t tried to murder me. Yet.
Despite how well the last few days have gone, I can’t help but worry about our history here. From the moment we landed I’ve been skirting on eggshells again around Holly, afraid that I’ll inadvertently crunch them.
“I don’t want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.” Here, back home, anywhere, and everywhere, ever again.
“Not using your phone is making me uncomfortable. It’s unnatural.”
I blink. Shock face. “Really?”
“Come on, Anna. We’re on an adventure. It’s too pretty here not to photograph. I know you’d love to post this to your feed.” Her face does a funky little twist that looks like she could be teasing, or she just swallowed a bug.
“Was that hard for you to say?”
“It’s fine, Anna, really. You proved yourself in Paris when you saved Zoe. Security would have thrown her in the trash. But yeah, it was kinda hard,” she admits.
Something breaks open in my chest. “Holly, I know we haven’t talked about what happened last time we were here, and maybe we never will, but I need you to understand that I’m different now.
Back then, I was jealous of you. You had Jack and a career path.
You just seemed like you had everything figured out.
I was still acting like I was nineteen. I feel like I unintentionally sabotaged things because I couldn’t stand how together your life was compared to mine.
It made me feel small, like I was falling behind while everyone else was moving forward.
I said things I shouldn’t have and pushed boundaries I shouldn’t have, all because I couldn’t face my own insecurities. I wasn’t being fair to you.”
Holly stops walking. For a moment, she stares at me, and I can see her processing my admission, weighing it against five years of anger. “Anna—”
“I’m not asking for forgiveness. Okay, I am. But I want you to know that whatever happens here with us and in Mexico with the memorial and Leo and everything else, I’m not that person anymore.”
Holly’s eyes glisten and she looks away. When she turns back, her voice is thick. “I was jealous of you too, you know. You were so free. No responsibilities or people depending on you. You could just be.”
“That wasn’t freedom, Hols. That was hiding.”
She nods slowly, and I see it in her expression. It isn’t quite forgiveness, not yet, but understanding. “Okay,” she finally says. “Okay.”
The eggshells I’d been skimming since we touched down scatter. I know her well enough to know she’s being genuine, and a weight lifts off my chest. She’s trying, which is saying something, given we’re in Greece and not just talking to each other but enjoying each other’s company.
I notice Holly also seems to be taking Zoe’s advice to heart. She’s released the stranglehold on her curls. Loose-haired Holly is a relaxed Holly. And that makes me an ecstatic Anna.
Ever since we opened up to each other that night at the dude ranch, I feel like we’ve been finding our way back to each other.
Then in Aspen when Holly opened up to me like she used to.
I feel like our friendship is rebounding.
Holly and I just might accomplish what Zoe asked of us. Scatter her ashes and resolve our rift.
I’m so proud of us.
“Time to make new memories.” I thrust my hand into my bag and retrieve my phone, which has been hiding under Zoe. “I’m going to take so many pictures.”
“Take one of us.”
I stop walking. “For real?”
“For real.” Holly affectionately bumps my shoulder.
I hold up my phone camera and capture our grinning faces with the sea behind us.
“Love that one,” Holly says when I show her the picture. “Text me a copy?”
“Absolutely.”
In my element, I stop an elderly gentleman walking in our direction and ask him to take our photo.
“Sure, sure,” he agrees with a smile under his short, brimmed hat.
With an arm around my waist and her other hand on a hip, Holly mimics my pose with a serene smile and gets into the moment. I release the doubts that have been bubbling inside me and say a silent thanks to Zoe. We’re actually doing this, and it’s all because of her.
I also thank the kind gentleman when he gives back my phone and shuffles along his merry way. As I watch him go, I notice how epic of a shot that would make.
“Stand right there.” I gesture for Holly to move so the village of Imerovigli is the backdrop and I walk backward to put some distance between us. “This is a great shot. Put your arms out, Hols.”
“Watch the edge!”
I look behind me at the edge that’s more of a slope than a drop-off, but it’s steep. I give her the sign that I’m good. I have room. “Arms out!”
Holly thrusts out her arms and, eyes closed, grins up at the sky. Imerovigli is the white against the cornflower-blue sky, and Holly is the splash of color in the center with her vibrantly printed walking skirt she purchased on a whim in Paris, her blue sneakers peeking out below.
I take the photo and look at it, rejoining Holly on the trail. “This is so good. I want to—” I stall.
“You want to what?”
“Never mind,” I say, shaking my head. The photo’s aesthetic is Instagram-worthy, and I almost told her that I was going to upload it to my feed and tag her.
I could kick myself for just thinking it.
We resume walking.
“What did you think of Zoe’s letter?” I ask, getting her mind on something other than my phone or what I was about to say.
“Which part?”
“All of it.” The letter was short but packed a punch. I had no idea Zoe thought about her brother being that way with me. Then what Holly said in Aspen! They both saw a spark of interest between us.
“But mainly the Leo part?” she guesses. “Because the picnic we’re having today won’t be anything like Zoe’s dream.”
I laugh. “Am I that transparent?”
“Yes.” I make a face and her elbow nudges my arm. “I was right about what I said the other day. Zoe would be happy for you and Leo. And so am I. You should be with someone who makes you happy. You deserve that, Anna.”
I know I heard it from her before, but her words take my breath away. I’m quiet, taking it all in: Holly, the view, how far we’ve come.
I step off the trail and take a few more photos.
“The cliff!”
“I see it.”
A couple more photos—click, click—and I rejoin Holly.
We walk for a stretch.
“Do you like him?” she asks.
I don’t have to think about the answer.
“I more than like him.”
“But…?”
I shake my head, not wanting to go deeper into what I’m thinking else I’ll jinx it.
“For whatever my two cents are worth, I think Leo feels the same about you. You should talk to him about it when you get home.”
“I will. It’s just—” I hesitate.
“You’re afraid.”
That’s the crux of it.
“I don’t have a great track record with people I care about. My parents find better things to do than spend their time with me. We lost Zoe. Then there’s what happened between you and me. Leo’s already a good friend. I don’t think I could survive losing him too.”
“I don’t think you have to worry about that.”
While I want to embrace her optimism, I can’t help but notice that she didn’t jump in to defend our relationship. But any further thoughts I have on the matter are cut short when we notice the view. It literally stops us in our tracks.
We’ve left Imerovigli and have been steadily walking uphill toward the Church of Ekklisia Profitis Ilias, where wildflowers of every color blanket the hillside and sweep over the cliffs to the water far below.
I’m awestruck by the beauty.
“This is the perfect spot for a picnic,” Holly says with reverence.
“I was just thinking that.”
“Like minds.”
We grin at each other and move off the trail. Holly unrolls a beach towel we borrowed from the hotel, and we sit among the flowers where the breeze is just pleasant enough after the long hike.
I retrieve Zoe, situating her between us, and the to-go boxes the hotel packed us for lunch. Holly’s curls twirl like windsocks around her head. She grasps at the unruly locks and reaches for a hair clip out of her bag.
I stop her with a light touch on her hand. “Leave it down. It’s pretty.”
“It’s hot, and it gets in my face.”
“But it frames your face beautifully. Humor me. Keep it down for lunch.” Relax, unwind, be in the moment.
Holly flubs her lips, and her arms fall into her lap. “Fine. But it’s going back up when we start walking again.”
I grin and let her pick which grazing box she wants. She goes with the figs, olives, honey and cheese, leaving me with the stuffed grape leaves and mini lamb kabobs. We end up sharing.
“This place is…” I sigh with pleasure, biting into a dolma.
Holly’s face droops. “Zoe’s missing an incredible view.”
“She would have been really happy here.”
Holly sighs, visibly relaxing, “I’m happy here,” she says with a tone I haven’t heard from her since, if I’m honest, that first trip to Aspen. The trip we took before Greece and our friendship fell apart.
I pause, the rest of the stuffed grape leaf halfway to my mouth, and take a good look at her.
Her cheeks are glowing, and her eyes are bright.
Her hair is a tumbled mess, but it’s fresh and natural and free.
The vise around my lungs unlatches. I feel like I can breathe for the first time since we left Los Angeles.
For ten days, this leg of the trip has been hanging over our heads with that inevitable question: What will happen when we get to Greece?
Turns out, we didn’t need to worry. So far, it’s been my favorite stop.
“I’m happy, too. Happy to be here, and happy for us.”
“You know what that means?” Holly wipes off her hands and our eyes meet.
“This is the place.”
“This is the place,” she echoes, and we turn to Zoe.
“Should we do this now?”
“I think so.”
At Holly’s prompting, I unscrew the urn’s cap and set it aside, taking in the view again as I do. This is a place I don’t mind coming back to, one I will look forward to looking back on.
Movement in the water below draws my attention.
“I have the scoop in here someplace,” Holly says, searching inside her bag.
I sharply inhale a short breath. It’s a sailboat, and she’s beautiful.
Huge, with stark white sails as she glides through the cerulean waters.
Another perfect shot, with the wildflowers in the forefront and the sailboat in the back.
I know without a doubt it’s the one I’ll post on Luxe Vacations for this leg of the #goodbyezoe trip.
I pop to my feet and inch as close as I dare to the edge, angling so that I capture the wildflowers, the curve of the caldera, and the sailboat behind me.
Holly is also on her feet, the scoop in hand. “Watch what you’re doing, Anna.”
“I am.” I grin for the camera, backing up a step. Loose rocks give way under my sneaker, and I wobble. My arms shoot out to catch myself.
“Anna!”
Holly lunges for me, her hair in her face. She trips on the urn, knocking over Zoe, and stumbles.
“Zoe!” I shout.
Holly shoves her hair from her eyes and looks behind her. We both watch in open-mouthed horror Zoe rolling downhill, her ashes spilling with each rotation.
Then, as if to add insult to injury, a powerful gust scatters what is left of our friend among the wildflowers, over the cliff, and into the air until she’s nothing but dust in the wind.