“I only mentioned living in Greece,” I pointed out. “How did you know that I’ve lived in other countries?”
“Oh,” she said, and her cheeks went red. “I… Um… I might have looked you up.”
I laughed. “You wanted to make sure I wasn’t a serial killer or something?”
She smiled. “Actually, I looked you up long before we met.”
“Is that right?”
Natalie blushed again and looked down at her plate. “The food is delicious, by the way.”
“You’re changing the subject.”
“Yes, I am.”
I laughed. “So, by the sounds of it, we’ve both been to Greece. How was your experience?”
“I loved Greece,” Natalie said. “But I was only able to go for two weeks. It was a high school graduation gift from my parents. I loved it so much that I actually did my freshman final paper on the history of Athens, with an emphasis on its religious significance. I hope to go again one day.”
“Is there another country on your bucket list?” I asked. “The one place you’d like to visit above all others?”
“France,” she replied, without missing a beat. “I’ve always wanted to see the Eiffel Tower surrounded by snow.”
“I’ve been to France,” I said. “But never during the winter. I can only imagine how much more beautiful it is dusted in snow.”
Natalie nodded. “Pictures are never the same, are they?”
“They’re not,” I agreed wholeheartedly. “People are content to watch travel channels, believing that the viewing experience is the same—”
“But it’s so completely different,” she finished the sentence for me. “Experiencing it for yourself is the only way to truly experience anything. I read extensively about Japan before I went, but going there… It was like another world, and all the reading I did didn’t make any difference at all.”
I smiled. “So was Greece your first overseas trip?”
“It was,” she nodded. “I did a lot of research before I went. My parents had saved up for this trip and I wanted to make the most of it.”
“I did the same thing before my first trip,” I admitted. “I researched intensely about each place I was going to visit while I was there and then… I got there, and it was all so different.”
“Where was your first trip?”
“Africa,” I replied. “It was for three weeks when I was fourteen.”
“Who did you go with?”
“Uh…my mother was living in South Africa at the time,” I replied. “I went to visit her.”
“Oh.” Natalie nodded. She looked curious but didn’t ask me anything further. That fact alone made me want to open up to her.
“My mother left when I was twelve,” I told her.
“She…left?”
“She sat my sister and me down one night, and she told us that she was leaving for a while. She told us that she was divorcing my dad and that she needed to leave the States for a bit to…clear her head.”
“Wow,” Natalie whispered. “Did she ever come back to the States?”
“She told us she would,” I replied. “She told us she was only leaving for a short while. Then six months turned into a year. Mom and Dad got divorced, and still, she didn’t come back. Finally, we realized she wasn’t ever coming back.”
“Did…” Natalie stopped short.