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The Old Place
Eleni I lean back in my seat and groan. “Too…much…food…” Gianna laughs. “Once you give birth, I’m getting you into pole. Even if you never perform, it burns calories like a mother—” Mama starts to frown, and Gianna stops. I laugh. She’s been working on her language. “Well, it’ll let you eat as much as you want,” Gianna says quickly. Mama nods. “If you don’t perform, I think that would be all right with Dante.” Gianna launches into a list of how many dancers Dante has gone out with, seemingly just to scandalize Mama, and I look around the homey surroundings. To celebrate the end of my midterms, Mama suggested we go to Zorba’s Tavern, a warm, blue-and-white-walled little restaurant back in the old neighborhood. We used to come here every time Christos or I got all As in school. I tried
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