Oh. My. Gods. - Weebly

“Of course,” she says with that happy-mushy smile on her face.
“Damian cannot leave the Academy. His job and his life are here.
And here he is protected. In America, he would always be vulnerable
to discovery.”
“But you can’t just un-become American,” I insist.
Okay, so my problem isn’t really that she wants to renounce her
American citizenship. If she becomes a citizen of Greece then that
makes this whole thing so much more real. Like she can’t ever turn
back. Like I can’t turn back.
“What about me?” I ask.
“Damian and I love each other. We are going to make a life
together and that can only happen here.” She takes the discarded
color schemes and drops them in the wastebasket in the kitchen.
“That doesn’t mean that you’re not a major part of that life, even
when you choose to return to the States. You are my daughter. My
love. My everything. That will never change. But don’t you think I
deserve a little happiness after all these years?”
We were happy. In California.
Mom had her practice and Aunt Megan and Yia Yia Minta.
I had Nola and Cesca and a track team full of friends.
Everything was great. So why did we have to move all the way
around the world just for a guy?
“Besides,” she says, her voice all wistful. “I like Greece. It makes
me feel closer to your father to be in his homeland.”
“Homeland?” I ask, shocked. “Dad was from Detroit. Motown is
his homeland.”
“His family is Greek. In his heart he was always Greek.”
“That’s creepy.” I stand up and start pacing. “You marry this
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