Familiar tides Book 1

That summer I was really excited to finally go to my father’s family’s place in Greece for a few days, now that my mother, who always quarrelled with that side of the family, was happily divorced.

All of my childhood I had felt ostracized since I was the only one of my cousins who didn’t spend their summers there. Their stories of riding longboards along the winding slopes, late night beach bonfires and spending the days on tanning on the boat deck, that they would tell over Christmas, were always stirring up jealousy.

I was the sole only child in the family, and my family lived in a completely different city than the rest of the lot. My father was also an only child, only remotely related to my uncles and aunts. I grew up fairly alone family-wise. It was always just my parents and me, until I moved out for college.

Now that my parents had divorced, I had felt even more alone and without a clear home or sense of belonging, despite being close to both of them.

I had four cousins on this side of the family. We were all relatively close in age and quite different from one another but there was always this sense of camaraderie and mischief despite seeing each-other rarely. It was the closest I’ve felt to having siblings.

The two other cousins, both slightly younger, grew up with my aunt in another country and I never knew much about them, having seen them once or twice in my lifetime. I knew that they were family, but it was just a distant fact, as we never really interacted.

Unfortunately, I was able to hop on the train of Greece house vacation only when we were mostly well into our twenties, most of them having stopped frequenting the place.

I was happy to learn that at least my aunt would be present with her two sons. Not the cousins I had imagined spending my time there with, but it was a possibility to get to know them better.

The first day I could sense my father’s bubbling excitement for going back to the house he spent his whole childhood in with his cousins, and especially getting to share at least a fragment of that with me.

Our SUV had a hard time rolling uphill through the narrow and steep driveway, the tires crackling on gravel suspiciously beneath us. The house had been built long before cars were invented, and the parking space we stopped at in the back garden used to be a goat sty.

The old stone bricks were covered with fig trees and laurel bushes, fresh linen sheets awaiting us coolly swaying in the balcony shade. It was early August and the air was hot and sticky with those distinct Mediterranean smells of sun scorched aromatics and rotting fruit.

The house was relatively small albeit the two stories, and it was a family tradition that everyone gets a fair use but respecting the other’s calendars and time slots. The other aunt, Mar, and her family, wouldn’t be coming until late the next day.

We spent a nice evening making grilled fish outside, with neighbours who all knew my family since decades. Wine was always a drink of choice for us, blame it on the Mediterranean genes.

After claiming a small cool bedroom on the upper floor for myself, and that merry of an evening, I drifted quickly to sleep lulled by the sound of cicadas on the trees outside.

The next morning, my dad took me for a walk along the coast to the nearest shop to get more wine and food for Mar and her family. We got an astounding seven bottles, of everything ranging from Prosecco to harsh tannic reds. I asked my father jokingly how many people are we planning on inviting and he responded in the same tone “We need to be well prepared”.

Spending the day at the small stone paved beach, I was introduced to all the locals that my family, my grandparents even, knew, as a finally full fledged figure in this community. They were all relatively well educated and interesting people, living on almost every continent imaginable, sharing this small village as their one lifeline since they were kids. Everyone knew everyone.

“I know you had to spend the entire day with old people, but Albert and Felix are coming tonight, so you will be able to discover how it is here for young people too” he said referring to my two cousins.

I was at the time in my late twenties and I very much enjoyed the company of my father’s friends, that my cousins even slipped off of my mind.

Albert was only 20-ish and the last time I had seen him was when he was a baby. Felix was 3 years younger than me, but the last time I saw him he was in high school while I was in college. I couldn’t really see how I could integrate myself into their friend groups.

Mar’s family arrived while we were lighting up the grill. They commented on how I changed (duh, they saw me 7 years prior), not mentioning my nose piercing or my tattoos that were very visible as I was filling the ice trays in a bikini top and a bermuda short.

I guessed they would have things to say but I never really considered them close so I just hoped they wouldn’t give my father a hard time.

Albert and Felix rolled out of the car, both extremely blonde and blue-eyed, alike their mother, in complete contrast with my myself.

I took after my Turkish mother, a tanned black-eyed dark-haired tower of a person, with my slightly crooked nose and broad shoulders and curves, nothing alike their elf-like features. They were both tall, lanky, and Felix sported a septum piercing which I found surprising, but then again he was soon to be graduating from an art faculty as an MA.

Albert, instantly got on his phone, even though there was virtually no signal around the house. He said a rushed “Hi! Bye!” before running off somewhere. Felix dropped the most charming smile on his face, and awkwardly hugged me before taking an Aperol from my hands.

I was hoping to spend an evening at the house such as the one prior, but since Albert already bailed, Felix asked if I want to join them later for a bonfire down at this hidden beach on the other side of the bay. I was feeling a bit too old for that, wondering how come he didn’t either but I agreed. My dad was thrilled, my aunt and uncle unimpressed.

Once we had our parents well tipsy and arguing over the volume of the music in the garden, we left for the nearest marina, while he was showing me the village.

We went up to the deck and I stripped down to my bikini and went into the still warm water. It was weird to strip in front of him, but I realized we were going to spend the next few weeks together in a summer house, so I just as might. He didn’t bat an eye.

He was crouching on the deck, my hands out of the water holding myself still, and we talked and talked. The whole situation was surreal. It reminded me of those paintings of sirens trying to lure unsuspecting men into the depths.

It felt so easy to talk to him despite the outlandish setting, and I felt as if we knew each-other for a long while before that. I thought at the time it is probably because we were, after all, family.

After a long discussion, with some jokes about our future, his friends came over. I was still in a bikini in the illuminated water while Felix and at least 10 of his friends were standing around me in clothes on the deck.

Before I could get a word he introduced me with “This is Sophie, she’s a cousin”, and I saw a few of relieved but also confused glances from them. He rushed them over to the nearest store to get some drinks, leaving the time for me to get dried and dressed.

Succeeding to navigate centuries old Mediterranean shrubs and scrub, passing an old cemetery, we got safely to the secluded beach where another group was already waiting with a bonfire. The air smelled of pines and sea water. We could see the Milky way if we got far enough from the fire.

People there were all tied through their respective families to this place and knowing each other forever. I was the obvious intruder, speaking with a harsh accent that they weren’t accustomed to. Felix politely made sure to present me to everyone, and include me in every discussion.

It took only a few drinks for us to tell his friends things along the lines of “It’s insane we have spoken only two times in our lives but we are family but we get each other so much why didn’t we do this before?”.

We spent a good portion of the evening ignoring everyone and getting lost in our own discussions.

His face was illuminated by fire and his eyes looked glassy because of the alcohol. He would crack a smile here and there which warmed me to my bones, more than the fire. It felt reassuring to have him there. He seemed genuinely happy that we were finally getting to know one another better.

Once it was late, we helped everyone gather the trash and kill the fire, the Milky way and the sea in front shining even brighter than before. Pretty drunk at this point, I panicked about going back, since the whole village was a labyrinth and I didn’t have any signal. I also wasn’t so sure I could climb back the steep cliffs of the beach that we got down through in this condition. Crossing the cemetery was also out of the question.

Felix told me he knew the shortcut through the forest to our house and I felt at ease since I knew he must have been doing this for the past 10 years at least. We started going through the pine forest along the shore, deeper and deeper.

Walking around the forest in the dark, I had no space awareness, and if to this day someone asked me to point out on a map where we went I couldn’t. Soon after we went through the scrubs we ended up holding hands, him leading me surely. I had some doubts about knowing the way, especially since we were both quite tipsy.

His hand reassured me and we soon started to squeeze tightly. The whole journey back was a mix of forests, cliff sites, old villas, amazing stars, old roads, as if it were a fever dream, but the one constant present was his hand in mine.

I have no idea how long we walked to get to our house, but we didn’t let go once. I remember feeling slightly disappointed when we had finally arrived. I didn’t want to let go. There was a slight ping in my chest that there was something inappropriate.

Before the garden we stopped, I turned towards him, my hand still in his, and we hugged very tight and a minute too long. That was the first time where I got the urge to kiss him.

What the hell was that? We ended reluctantly and went each to their own floors, my head still buzzing. I went to bed all giddy, but I fell asleep before having the time to actually process anything.

The next morning we got up around the same time, and were greeted by our parents having brunch in the front garden shaded by olive trees, all of them nurturing a hang-over. They still tried to blame us for staying late but my father brushed it off with “At least they’re getting along well, right?” looking at us.

“Uh...yeah, yeah it was really great having Sophie meet everyone. We went to the beach with the others” ,Felix said while looking mostly to his plate of a full British, not acknowledging my presence in the room. He was wearing sunglasses though so it might’ve been just the hangover.

“Everyone seemed so friendly”

I sneaked a quick side glance to Felix but he just shot me a millisecond look I couldn’t read, then filled in:

“Rob and Isaac left earlier because they were supposed to go meet some girls but I guess they went back here. Where are the both of them anyway?”

“No idea, they’ll probably pop back up sometime today” said Mar’s husband, my uncle Bruno, much more tolerant to the mischiefs of his younger son than Felix.

“Did you have a good time?” asked my father, happy that I finally experienced the bit of the same life he grew up in.

“Amazing...Felix helped a lot”.

He didn’t look up from his plate before announcing he’ll go and see Rob and some other folk. It made a slight silent punch in my insides but I was still trying to shake it off and see it as a purely social jealousy.

I mean, it must be just that, I was feeling alone and Felix made me feel a part of his paradise world and that was it. I just liked the feeling of acceptance, and the Mediterranean sea and the alcohol helped a lot. It was also the first time for me to live in a big household, even if just for holidays.

I spent the day on a small boat with my father, Mar, and Bruno, away for an entire day of cruising the nearby islands. We’d prepared sandwiches, water and wine, and stopped at every turquoise water bay and beach we could find for a refreshing dip. It was wonderful to take my mind off of the rest of the world.

“I’m glad you’re getting along with Felix….He’s a bit of an outcast in the family, and other cousins don’t really get along with him very well” said my dad while the others were swimming.

“What do you mean? He’s sweet and never had anything bad to say of anyone. I think we’re a lot alike”

“You do seem that way. It's a good thing”

My heart was thumping in my ears, the blood rushing into my head. God, what would my dad think about last night. I jumped from the deck into impossibly crystal and fresh water to calm my redding face.

As we got back in the evening, the house was still empty. After an entire day on the boat I was hoping to see some friends again….Felix’s friends. I checked my phone but no messages came. It left a bitter and heavy taste. It’s just FOMO.

From the shower, I heard commotion downstairs. Wrapped in a bath towel I barely got down from the wobbly stairs to see Rob and Felix in the kitchen, raiding the fridge and the crates. They looked up and asked “Want to join for another party?”

Since I was supposed to be the responsible one, I scolded them and offered a proper home cooked dinner that I was supposed to make.

Rob was hearing none of it and continued piling the bottles from our pantry, but Felix looked at me, still dripping from the shower, opened his mouth slightly, then composed himself after a few seconds and said “We could make dinner together if you want, and then you can come away with us”. His face was so sincere that I couldn’t say no. Plus, I needed the help.

“Alright get your ass over here and start chopping those onions while I get dressed”

“Yes ma’am”

I had a simple striped black-and white one-piece swimsuit with a jean short on, my short hair still damp after towel drying when I got down few minutes later to the kitchen.

Our parents were laughing outside and I tried my best to supply them with an adequate amount of aperitifs while they were waiting for food. It was so warm that the ice cubes melted as soon as I popped them out of the freezer.

Felix looked up and down on me in a split moment, focusing on the vegetable julienne. His hair was fuzzy as ever, his pale skin showing for the first time under his clothes. He was tall and lean, not as thin as much as looking very juvenile for his age of 25.

He looked very different from the type of guys I usually went for; my last relationship was with 12 years my senior that looked the part, with chest hair and all. Why did I have that weird feeling then, looking at my cousin (albeit, distant one)? Was the cousin part just a fragment of my imagination propelled by this dream-like pocket dimension we had on this small Greek island and our distance growing up, or did I just crave sibling-like proximity that I never really had? I had no idea how to navigate this.