Oh. My. Gods. - Weebly

“Ah, you must be the new nothos on the island.” The woman
smiles, her fleshy cheeks pushing out into pink apples. “I am Lilika,
a descendant of Hestia. My recipes come from the goddess of the
hearth herself and are unmatched in all the world.”
“So nice to meet you, Lilika,” Mom says. She wraps her fingers
around my T-shirt sleeve and jerks my attention away from the baklava.
“I’m Valerie Petrolas, and this is my daughter, Phoebe.”
I’m so captivated by the display of treats that I barely register the
fact that Mom introduced herself as a Petrolas. “Holy crap!” I drop
to my knees, pressing my face closer to the glass. Closer to the treat
to end all treats. “Is that . . . bougatsa?”
“The young lady has a favorite, no?” Lilika moves around behind the
case, sliding open the panel in the back. “This is my favorite as well.”
“We have to get some, Mom.” I look up at her, pleading. She
doesn’t answer, so I crawl closer until I’m at her feet. The bell over
the front door rings but I don’t care. I’m focused on begging. Nothing
but that sweet custard and cheese pastry could reduce me to
begging—well, that and the new Nike+ with built-in iPod sensor.
“Please, please, please.”
Mom laughs.
Lilika, who is busy pulling the bougatsa out of the case, glances
up to see who walked in. “Moro mou!” she squeals. She slides the
tray back into the case. “Pou sas echei ontas, Griffin?”
I only understand one word of what she says, but that name is all I
need to know that mortification is in my future. My very near future.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been by in a while, Aunt Lili,” the voice that
I dread hearing says. “I’ve been busy.”
Maybe it’s my imagination, but I can feel him staring at me.
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