Chapter 7
Greek to Me: Ancient Love
The language of love took written form thousands of years ago, with great philosophers like Plato and Aristotle tackling the meaning, seeking truth by Eros.
Eros (éros) is passionate love, with sensual desire and longing. The modern Greek word “eratos” means “romantic love.”
Plato believed eros helps the soul recall knowledge of beauty and contributes to an understanding of spiritual truth.
“ARE YOU DONE YET?” da Vinci stood over my shoulder, looking down at my laptop. Nothing like a hot Italian to make me forget about my Greek. Of this I was sure: Plato got it right. Love is the Highest Good. Provides the ultimate meaning found in human beings. And I was so sure I'd never experience eratos again that the very thought of romance felt Greek to me.
Which made the fact that da Vinci wanted my attention all the more mesmerizing. Being interrupted meant there was someone to interrupt me, and it wasn't to find his missing sneaker or fetch him a snack.
“No. I probably won't be done for weeks.”
“That won't do,” da Vinci said, taking my hand and pulling me out of my seat. “Do you see outside?”
I surveyed the back yard, where the crisp orange leaves had nearly all fallen to the ground. “Time to rake.”
Da Vinci shook his head. “No. We do this.” He handed me a flyer that he got who knows where. I knew he couldn't read it all, probably the sight words, but his comprehension was aided by the photos of couples drinking wine at a festival. “Eat. Drink.”
“Be merry?” The wine festival was at least an hour into the country at a local vineyard that had gotten a lot of press. Joel and I had talked about going to a wine festival for years, but they seemed to always conflict with college football Saturdays, and in fact, so did this one. Bradley was on the couch now, watching the Longhorns play the Sooners in Dallas for their annual Big River rivalry. Bradley was decked out in his burnt-orange football jersey that Joel had given him for his birthday. It was too snug on him now and I'd offered to buy him a new one, but that wasn't the point. He liked it because his father gave it to him, and seeing how much he'd grown was a painful reminder of how quickly things change. The boys were growing every day, while for the longest time, I felt I'd been shrinking. But today seemed like a gorgeous day to grow. Only I couldn't possibly just leave for the day with da Vinci.
William grabbed the flyer from my hands. “Cool. I think you guys should go. I'll rake the leaves, Mom.”
I shook my head. “You'll what? Are you feeling okay? You've never offered to do the chores before.”
“It's fine. You two go and have a great time and when you get back, we'll make chili for dinner. I found Dad's recipe, and da Vinci has never eaten chili before. Especially good Texas chili.”
Da Vinci nodded enthusiastically. Were the two of them in on this together? “But we're supposed to play Scrabble,” I told him. “You've been waiting all week.”
William pushed his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose and shrugged. “The sunny day won't last forever and Scrabble will. We'll play tomorrow.”
“Are you sure?” I could feel the guilt of spending a day with da Vinci in the sun melt away with each reassuring word from my son. “What about you, Bradley?”
“Whatever,” Bradley said, which was his way of giving permission.
An hour later, the boys were back home with a neighborhood sitter while we were out in the country, which felt the same as being on another planet. The change in da Vinci was perceptible; he was more at ease in the country, as if we were closer to his homeland. Even though we were in the middle of nowhere, we were surrounded by food vendors and throngs of people who had done just as we had and gotten away from it all.
Da Vinci took my hand as we made our way through the crowd to the wine tables where we could sample a dozen wines, and I was surprised at how comfortable his hand felt in mine. We took our first glass of wine-a white, sweet varietal-and plopped down right in the middle of two dozen blankets around us, filled by couples and even young families. I wondered if we should've brought the boys, but I knew Bradley would've complained about missing the game and I would have to be the mom instead of what, da Vinci's date?
He was progressing further in his English than my other students, something that made me feel guilty because of the individual attention I was giving him. He had begun to make friends at UT, though he felt too old to join a fraternity, where he said they care only about guzzling beer and meeting girls. He surprised me, considering he had asked me the first day if I could hook him up with Jessica Simpson. As far as I could tell, he hadn't dated anyone on campus, though he had gone to a few study groups.
Da Vinci lay back on the blanket, his hands behind his head and stared up at the clouds. “This is my idea of Heaven,” he said.
“A wine festival?”
“A beautiful place with a beautiful woman.” He reached up and touched his thumb to my cheek. I took his hand and kissed it, forgetting for the moment that we were surrounded by people, but they were safe, strangers.
It had been so long since I had just sat and relaxed that it took me two glasses of wine to unwind. Finally I lay on the blanket next to da Vinci, propped on my side. I could've stared at him all afternoon. People pay for cable and you know what? Women would much rather pay to watch a beautiful man breathe, just inches from you, close enough that you can smell his shampoo and aftershave. “Tell me what you think about when you daydream. And what do you write in that notebook of yours?”
Da Vinci removed the notebook from the back pocket of his jeans, but didn't show it to me. “I wondered if you would ask. Inquisitive teacher. I dream about everything. I dream about home, about mother and sisters and nieces and nephews. My grandparents had small vineyard, so my memories of them are going to stomp grapes and even as child, you get to drink wine at dinner table. Make me feel very grown. I think how much they would like you. My sisters always read magazines picturing American women with blonde hair. First woman I saw on uncle's TV was Three's Company show, no?”
“Suzanne Somers.” Another big-boobed blonde with giant, shiny teeth. Wow. I'm nothing like her at all.
“I dream about what can I do in the future for job.”
“But you've enjoyed every job you've had so far, right? Being a florist and a landscaper and preparing food.”
Da Vinci propped his head on his hand and looked at me eye to eye, just six inches from my face. I was afraid to breathe. “I do them and am good at them, but I get bored and ready for next challenge. Does this make sense? I'd rather do this.”
I cleared my throat. By this, I was thinking he meant spend his days at wine festivals and not spend his days with me no matter what we are doing, but I was too embarrassed or shocked to ask him to clarify. “I don't think lounging around in the sun pays much,” I teased.
He took my hand and kissed the soft side of my wrist, a place I don't recall ever being kissed by anyone. Then he moved up my arm, kissing it until he reached the velvety paper-thin skin on the inside of my elbow, perhaps the softest skin on the body, where I had never been kissed, either.
Then he leaned in and kissed my lips, slowly, softly, again and again until the noise and the people had all stopped for us, or else I had put them on pause. When I pulled away, da Vinci smiled. “What? Is it okay?”
I smiled back, the noise rushing back into our space. “Very, very okay.” Over a loudspeaker, a man made the announcement for the next wine tour so we joined our group. His notebook went back in his pocket, its contents still a mystery. We held hands and listened to the vintner talk about the wine, only I didn't hear a word he said. I was listening for the smaller sounds that felt enormous-the sound of da Vinci's laughter, the sound of our clothes rustling as we walked in unison, the sound of the grass crunching beneath our feet.