The villa where they were staying had a pool, of all things, which seemed kind of silly to Mouse, since an absolutely beautiful beach was just footsteps away. However, teaching someone to swim was exponentially easier with a wall to hang onto, not to mention steps and a deck, so they had their first few lessons there, rather than in the Aegean Sea.

As soon as Henry was off to his shoot, they were in the pool, sunscreen applied liberally against the bright Mediterranean sun. Everything seemed more vivid to Mouse, the colors more saturated, from the whitewash of the villa's walls to the incredible magenta and lavender of the bougainvillea. Ios was definitely a few degrees farther south than New York City.

"Okay, Leo, you're going to learn to swim while we're here, right?" Mouse asked.

"Right," he answered confidently. "You can teach me, can't you, Mouse?" His faith in her was touching.

"Yes, I can," she answered. "And here's the thing: Everyone says you need to learn to swim, but the really important thing you need to learn to do is tread water, you know what that is? It's where you're just in the water, hanging out and relaxing, get it?"

"You mean I don't need to learn to swim?" Leo asked, looking like a tiny diver with his goggles on his head.

"No, of course you need to learn to do that, too," Mouse replied, laughing. "But you need to learn to tread water, too, to be able to just chill and be comfortable and not freak out."

So they practiced eggbeating, the motion of breaststroke kicking one leg at a time while upright in the water. Mouse's parents would've been exhausted if they'd actually let all their children pick their own activities, so they'd thrown individuality out the window, and made every child commit to the same sport, namely swimming. Mouse, while never particularly fast, had been on a team for years, forced to attend meets and practices, so she knew the strokes and drills inside and out.

"Good, Leo, you're very good at this!" she praised, watching his little legs piston out, ankles flexed, as he kicked. "So see, you can keep this up for a long time without really getting tired if you have to, and add hands if you want, and tread water so you won't go under, get it?"

He nodded, laughing with excitement. "I'm doing it! Mouse, look, I'm doing it!" He held his arms out to her, and she hugged him.

Next, she had him jump in from the side to where she waited, telling him to hold his breath and blow air through his nose until he felt himself come up out of the water, then to begin kicking. So he did, and he was so focused on making a fun splash that he didn't think about the fact that the water was deep, and maybe he should be scared. He kicked up to the surface, blowing through his nose, and began treading water, reaching for Mouse.

They did it a few times, with Mouse moving a little farther away from him each time. "This time I'll be a little farther, so kick closer to where I am, okay, big guy?" she encouraged. "And I'll kick closer to you, too, and we'll meet."

They continued to do this, until Mouse was quite a distance away from him. He jumped in and maneuvered over to her, smiling. "Hey, you know what? I just swam!" he exclaimed. "Look, I swam from way over there to way over here!" He looked at Mouse, mouth open with amazement.

"You did, you did, Leo!" Mouse replied. "Good job!" She hugged his tiny body, loving how wiggly it was.

They took a break for lunch, and had just finished their sandwiches at the outdoor table when Henry came up the path from the beach, calling out, "Yassou," the common Greek greeting for "hello."

He looked hot and sweaty, and ridiculously handsome to Mouse. His skin was gleaming, smile bright. It wasn't fair that some people, like Henry, could perspire and look better, while some people, like herself, just got all blotchy and disheveled looking, she thought.

"What are my favorite people doing?" he asked, sitting down in the shade. Leo climbed into his lap immediately. "Ohh, son, you're nice and cool, give me a big hug!" And Mouse smiled, watching Leo and Henry hug each other.

"We just ate lunch, and Daddy, I swam, like really swam!" Leo crowed. "I first traded water by making scrambled eggs, but then I jumped in and swam!"

"Wait, what?" Henry looked over at Mouse, wanting a translation.

"We can give you a demonstration," Mouse said, laughing. "Leo can show you how he trod water by eggbeating, then how he jumped in and swam to me, how's that?"

"Yeah, sounds much better," Henry agreed. "In fact, I have a little while, why don't I put on my trunks and get in with you two for a bit? That sounds even better, I think."

"Let me get these lunch things put away," Mouse said, rising.

Henry nodded at Mouse. Her hair was in its usual pony tail, and she was wearing the same bathing suit she'd been wearing in Washington Square Park that day, only with the matching bottoms this time, rather than denim shorts. It was pink, with white polka dots, certainly modest by bathing suit standards. Henry had just been on the beach, taking photographs of women wearing much, much less. But they didn't affect him like this.

She turned to take the food tray back into the house. Her back, straight and honest, was bare, except for the string, right down to the twin dimples at the base, covered with the finest down, looking velvety soft, yet strong at the same time, from her slender neck, down to where her narrow waist curved out to her rich hips. Her legs were well-muscled and had a little tone, from all the bike riding she did around the city.

He stared at the doorway she'd entered until she returned, this time admiring her front. The bikini top created and showed cleavage that Mouse usually hid. She was not a person who liked to display her curves, Henry knew. And her breasts looked so soft and normal, to Henry. He realized it had been a long, long time since he'd seen any that looked so comfortable and inviting. They even hung a little bit, responding in a predictable way to gravity. How comforting. Her tummy looked smooth and innocent, not like the fit and toned stomachs he was used to seeing at the gym, or the ones he photographed, with the skin pulled taut over the bones.

No wonder Leo liked to cuddle with her.

Henry realized he'd been staring, and thanked his lucky stars Mouse was focused on Leo and hadn't noticed. He felt like a lech, like a pervert, like a lascivious old uncle or something. Everyone he knew would think he was crazy, to photograph the women he did, and to sit around drooling and lusting over his son's babysitter.

He changed into his suit and hopped into the pool with them, and Leo demonstrated his new skills, jumping into the pool, surfacing, and kicking over to his father, who scooped him up and grinned at Mouse.

"Absolutely incredible," he told her. "After just one morning."

"I've done it before, with my nieces and nephews," Mouse explained. "And even though what he's doing isn't really any kind of recognizable stroke, it's what will keep him safest if he ever falls in to any water, you know? He needs to know how to surface, keep his head above the water, and kick over to somewhere safe, or tread water until someone can rescue him." She blinked. "I've never understood the focus on teaching freestyle as part of a lifesaving course, because knowing how to swim face down and breathe to the side won't help you in most emergency situations."

"I agree," Henry said, nodding. "And unfortunately, I have to get back to work."

"But daddy, you just got here," Leo complained.

"I know, son, but I came here to work, remember?" Henry reminded him.

"You know, we should go down to the beach and swim for a while," Mouse suggested. "We can play in the sand, too, what do you think?"

Leo nodded enthusiastically, so Mouse gathered their things while Henry changed back into his clothes, and they all went down to the beach together.

The models all squealed and made a big deal over Leo, declaring him to be adorable, which made him smilingly embarrassed. He ran to Mouse and hid his face in her leg.

Mouse and Leo sat to watch the shoot for a little while before heading to the beach, and Mouse realized that news of Henry's break up must have already percolated to everyone. Even though everyone was professional, she could tell, from the things that were being said, and little gestures, that some of the models were flirting with Henry. At first she just thought it was the way things worked during shooting, but no, this was definitely more than just casual banter. Their body language, the touching and teasing between takes, was kind of weird.

Henry looked over at her a couple of times, and Mouse could tell he was uncomfortable. Mouse supposed she should be grateful they weren't shooting in bathing suits today. She knew that at least part of the shoot did involve swimwear, which made sense, since they were at a beach, but today it seemed to be exercise clothes, which were revealing enough.

Even Leo was affected, it seemed. He scooted over to Mouse's lap after a few minutes, turning to her to say, "Does that lady like my daddy? She's being weird to him."

Many people heard him, and a few even turned to look at him, laughing.

He covered his mouth, embarrassed, as Mouse shushed him with a smile.

Linda, the model in question, answered, "Of course, Leo, we all love your daddy, you must know that." There was more laughter. Linda stuck out her tongue at Henry, who snapped a picture of it.

A few minutes after that Mouse and Leo left, with a wave to Henry, to hang out at the beach. They played in the water, which was the clearest water Mouse had ever swum in, though it was very cold. Leo stuck pretty close to her, though she did have him practice treading water with the egg beating and maneuvering his way to her several times. She knew he'd need lots over reinforcement, over several days, before it would stick.

Then they played on the beach for a while, making things in the sand, looking for shells, and just hanging out and reading.

A couple of times, young men came calling, approaching them where they lay on their towels, chatting them up, wanting to know where they were from, things like that.

Once, while Mouse was drowsing, a blond man with a Scandinavian accent came and sat down by Leo, wanting to know about his "mum."

"She's not my mommy, she's my nanny," Leo said darkly. He looked at the man with lips and brows drawn together, scooting a little closer to where Mouse say, her hat covering her face.

"Oh, how lovely," the man replied. "My name is Oskar, by the way, what's yours?"

"I'm not supposed to say," Leo responded, shaking his head.

"Smart boy," Oskar said, laughing. "Can you tell me your nanny's name?"

Leo shook his head again. "Is your name really Oskar, though?" he asked, unable to contain his curiosity. "Like Oscar the Grouch, on Sesame Street?"

"Yes, exactly," Oskar answered, chuckling. "Spelled differently, however. Tell me, little man, does your nanny have a boyfriend? Or did she come here to Ios with someone in particular?"

Leo shook his head again. "No, she has an ex, but that's all. His name is Travis, and he's back in New York. She's only here with me and my daddy."

"Wonderful!" Oskar exclaimed with a grin, blue eyes twinkling.

"Why's that wonderful?" Leo asked, squinting up at Oskar.

"Well, I was going to wait until she, your nanny whose name you won't tell me, wakes up, and see if perhaps she'd like to go dancing with me in the village tonight," Oskar explained. He looked seriously at Leo. "What do you think? Do you think she might say yes to this?"

Leo looked back at Mouse, who hadn't moved, then back at Oskar. He finally shook his head.

"No, I don't think so," he said.

"Oh no, why not? You don't think I'm her type?" Oskar asked.

"No, it's not that," Leo said. "She just doesn't like to date. She told me so."

"Well, what does she like to do? I'm open to suggestions," Oskar said amiably.

"She likes to watch movies," Leo answered. "And she likes to ride her bike, and she likes to be with me most of all." He stared at Oskar. "I don't think she would want to go anywhere if I couldn't go, too."

Oskar laughed. "I like you," he declared.

His laugh had brought Mouse out of her semi-doze, and she turned toward him, removing the hat.

"Leo? Who are you talking to?" She saw Oskar and sat up, abruptly, looking around for something to cover herself with, which was ridiculous, she realized. He'd obviously been there for a while, and could see her the whole time.

"Shh, Mouse, now he knows my name!" Leo said, putting a finger up to his lips.

"And hers as well!" said Oskar, laughing. "Leo and Mouse, how delightful."

"Oh, please, Miss Mouse, I intend no harm, you have my word," Oskar said, holding his hands up. "I merely wanted to ask if you'd go dancing with me in the village this evening, but you were resting, so I spent a few minutes chatting with Leo here instead." He gestured toward Leo. "He was kind enough to inform me that dancing is not your favorite way to spend an evening, so perhaps something else? Coffee, or a meal?" He looked inquiringly at Mouse, eyes hopeful.

Leo scooted even closer to her, putting a small hand on her leg, which made Mouse and Oskar smile.

"Oh. Oh!" Mouse said, understanding. "No, I'm sorry, but I'm really only here to watch Leo, I don't think I can go out. Thanks for asking, though, it's really nice of you--"

"Oskar," he supplied, holding his hand out. "Oskar Magnusson. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Mouse." He smiled again. "Well, if I can't convince you to share a meal with me, perhaps we can chat again tomorrow, or whenever I find you again on the beach? Will you be coming here again?"

Reluctantly, Mouse nodded. It was the truth, after all, and the beach was a public place.

Oskar rose, continuing to smile. "Wonderful. Fantastic. I'll look for you again, then." He took a few steps away before turning around. "Nice to meet you both. Hope to speak to you again very soon." He loped off, toward a group of young people who were standing in the shallow water a few hundred yards away.

Mouse looked at Leo and sighed.

"Shall we go back to the house?" she asked. "See what we can rustle up for dinner?"

Leo nodded, so they walked back, hand in hand, stopping at the outdoor shower on their terrace first to wash off the sand.