Sisterhood Of The Traveling Pants - Plot & Excerpts
She was going back to her olive grove. No. His olive grove. When she reached her spot, she saw that the colors had changed since June. There was more yellow in the grass, different wildflowers. The olives on the trees were grown fatter—they were teenagers now. The breeze was stronger. The meltimi, her grandmother called it. She might have come hoping to see him here; she wasn’t sure. But painting stole her thoughts from any other thing. For hours, in deep concentration, she mixed and painted and squinted and painted. If the sun was hot, she stopped knowing it. If her limbs were tired, she stopped feeling them. When the shadows grew too long, she came back to regular life. Now she looked at her painting through critical, earthbound eyes. If she hadn’t been herself she would have smiled, but as it was, she just felt the smile. Now she knew what the work had been for. She would give this, her best painting, to Kostos. She despaired of ever having the courage to tell him how she felt.
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