Alex
I was told to be home on Sunday for Pascha; Marie wanted to have a traditional dinner with Mike and Peter and Peter’s girlfriend. I was surprised, considering we hadn’t followed the church or even observed lent in years. Not for lack of want mind you, just because fighting with Marie about religion was a battle that I was sick of. I had a minor suspicion that this dinner wasn’t because she’d suddenly converted and seen the light, it likely had much more to do with the Kokkinos girl Peter was seeing. What better way to get into her good graces than to celebrate the most important holiday in our culture?
Naturally, I took the earliest flight out of Athens and back to California instead. Chloe and I were supposed to meet in Barcelona, I would have picked her up from the airport and brought her back to the hotel, but I needed away from my life. It was easier to spend my time with Chloe – she wasn’t as complicated, or heartbreaking. And she was always glad to see me, provided that I said the right thing.
I paced around the hotel room from the balcony back to the bed and back again, each time finding something new to fiddle with, first the buttons on my sleeves and then the band of my watch. Would she notice that my hair was still slightly damp? I wanted to be fresh from the shower for her but I hadn’t expected her to come here this soon.
There was a light knock at the door that made me turn on my heel, I didn’t check the peephole before throwing the door open for her. Chloe stood there with a wide, disarming smile and a small black bag in her hand. I reached for her instinctively, pulling her into the room with a deep kiss and getting my hands lost in her hair.
She gasped and dropped her bag at our feet as her hands grasped at the back of my neck frantically. I pressed myself against her; enjoying the softness of her body and the way it molded to mine, the scent of cinnamon and vanilla engulfed us. I could swear that my fingers tingled the moment I touched her and everywhere she touched me in return.
“Hello to you too,” she mumbled against my mouth. “Did you miss me?”
Grinning, I gave her another quick kiss before pulling away. “Is it not obvious?”
Chloe giggled and pushed me back from the doorway. I helped her bring her bags in and set them with mine in the closet. They weren’t anything special, just black hard-shell luggage with daffodil-shaped nametags on the handles, I couldn’t help but think of the designer luggage I bought Jazmin. I’d have to ask her to help me pick out something for Chloe too.
My hand lingered on her bag for a second before I turned around to see her sitting on the bed with her feet pulled up and the small bag beside her. She wore a tight-fitted pink camisole and light jeans that were ripped across the thighs. It was surprisingly casual compared to everything I’d seen her in before, and oddly enough some tension left my body.
“I, uh, I kind of brought you dinner,” she explained as reached for the bag. “It’s super lame but it’s Easter weekend and Mama made fassolatha, so I thought I would bring you some even though I’m realizing now that you probably don’t observe lent since I’ve seen you drink a lot of alcohol and eat meat…”
I didn’t know what to say – this had to be the sweetest thing any of my girls had done for me. My heart was caught in my throat as I reached for the container and opened it without hesitation. Fasolada and dolmadaki. I hadn’t eaten a proper meal like this in what felt like an eternity.
Chloe was watching me as I took a seat on the bed beside her and laid out the small utensils that came with the container. She looked nervous watching me pause to give thanks silently in my head before digging straight into the stuffed grape leaves. They melted against my tongue with each bite and it took every ounce of self-control not to moan like a starved man in the desert.
“Any time your mother wants to grace me with her cooking is appreciated, especially if it’s always this good.” I finished off the grape leaves and blotted the corner of my mouth before continuing, “I don’t think I’ve ever had someone bring me dinner before, it’s quite nice.”
Chloe laughed and stretched out on the bed beside me while I ate, watching me idly with her head propped up on her hand. “I don’t know why, I guess I just realized that we go to a lot of restaurants and you said you stay in hotels a lot so I thought maybe you might like something homemade for once. I’m glad you like it.”
“I’m having a love affair with my food,” I mumbled as I started in on the white bean soup. “This feels like the opposite of fasting.”
“It’s a bit indulgent, but it adheres to the rules,” she admitted. “We’re sometimes lax on them but Mama thinks it’s important this year to try and follow it as much as possible since my brother is getting older and spends more time with his friends.”
Ah, trying to protect the culture. “How old is he?” I asked.
“Five, his name is Dimitris.”
A little brother, Dimitris and Chloe. There was no doubt in my mind that their mother was strict about traditions and upholding her family values despite being on a completely different continent. I could feel that familiar ache in my stomach that came around when I thought too much about my own family and my own mother. I could still hear her scolding me and my brother Stelios for running off without Daphne, I could almost smell her cooking.
“Is it alright?” Chloe asked, jolting me out of my reverie.
“It’s wonderful,” I praised, taking another spoonful. “I was just thinking about how long it’s been since I’ve had something like this.”
“See!” She laughed and jostled my arm playfully. “I knew you would like a home cooked meal. I’ll try and do it for you again sometime.”
I couldn’t stop myself from looking up at the ceiling while she laughed, it was just so strange to have her concerned about what I was eating. I was fighting a smile as I set the bowl aside and rolled over next to her. We were practically nose-to-nose and I reached out to lay a hand on her hip while we stayed like that, just quietly watching each other only inches apart.
Her eyes were a little more gold today than they had been last I saw her, they weren’t artfully lined or painted with metallic blue either. She didn’t appear to be wearing any makeup and it felt just a bit more personal tonight without all the prepping and the expensive outfits, it felt more natural for her to be like this.
“You’re staring at me,” she whispered.
“Should I look at the wall?” I whispered back.
“No, but I thought you should know you’re acting like a creep.”
“I pay to stare at you, there’s nothing creepy about that.”
“No, you pay me to look hot.”
“Yes, for me to then look at.”
Chloe covered her face while she laughed and rolled onto her back away from me, with a smirk, I pushed myself over to her and pulled her hands away from her face. “Don’t run away from me,” I said, making her laugh harder. “Come back here.”
All at once her hands were in my hair and my knee was wedged between her legs while everything around us faded out. Her kiss was gentle and teasing but the way she arched her back, pressing her tits against my chest just made me want more. I was sure that she could feel my heart racing in the same way that I felt hers when I kissed the dip between her breasts.
“What would I have done without you here tonight?” I asked huskily.
“Starve because you required me to feed you a regular meal?” she offered. “But you knew I wasn’t going to say no to you.”
I pushed her shirt up further until it just barely covered her nipples and nothing else. “I thought you would since you won’t be home for Pascha.” I ran my nose up over her tits and breathed in the scent of her body lotion. The younger girls seemed to enjoy vanilla more than anything else but in the back of my mind I could see myself massaging her down with rose oil, or maybe jasmine.
She sighed and relaxed under me, gently trailing her nails through my hair, twisting it around her fingers lazily. “I wanted to spend this time with you.”
How sweet. I kissed just above her navel ring and started back up her body slowly, wanting to soak in every second like this. “Glykia mou, that’s very kind of you.”
“Glykia mou,” she repeated softly. “Mama calls me koritsi mou.”
I chuckled and pushed myself up and off to lay next to her again, my hand laid on her stomach and stroked across her smooth skin. “Do you mind pet names?”
She shrugged and laced our fingers together. She was refusing to look at me but I could see the gentle smile she wore. “No, I like it, it makes me feel special.”
“You are,” I promised, bringing her hand to my mouth for another kiss. “You’re the first person I’ve celebrated Pascha with in a long time.”
“Wait, really?” She gazed up at me with wide eyes. “How come?”
I shrugged. “It’s just how it is, I don’t really follow the holidays anymore.”
“What?” She sat up and pushed my hand away. “You don’t celebrate Easter at all?”
“No, I haven’t celebrated in years.”
“Nothing? No mass, no lent, nothing?” she demanded.
I shrugged once more. What else was there to say? “Nothing.”
“But like, you’re Greek…” she trailed off.
I could feel heat creeping up my neck in embarrassment. I could just imagine the lecture my mother would give me for essentially leaving the church, and for whatever reason, I almost felt ashamed for having to admit that to Chloe. “My wife wasn’t religious and she didn’t want to convert,” I explained sheepishly.
“Ex-wife,” Chloe corrected instantly.
I laughed in surprise and swept a hand through my hair tiredly “Yes, ex.”
“But what about your son?” she continued. “He wasn’t raised in the church either?”
That was a difficult question; I was young and foolish when we had Peter, my mother had made arrangements with Father Ioannis for Peter to be baptised against Marie’s wishes as Petros Hatzistefanis – the same name as my grandfather. I could still hear Marie’s shrill voice in my ear over that stunt, but I’d been too pleased with myself at the time to apologize for not respecting her enough to have a conversation about it.
She refused to call him Petros, so I reluctantly used his anglicised name while fighting the uphill battle to have him attend mass. I thought it could be a bit of give and take but we continued to go less and less, right up until elementary school when she chose to have him removed from religious studies. He had no base, but the absolute most important thing to me had been completed, he just hadn’t been raised with the values I had.
“No,” I explained reluctantly. “He was and he wasn’t but that’s not something I want to discuss.” I made my tone more forceful, trying to stop her from asking more questions about it without upsetting her.
“But what about you then? Do you go see your family at all for holidays?”
“Chloe, if I did, do you think we would be going to Spain this week?”
She jabbed my arm. “Don’t get all attitudal with me, I’m trying to get to know you.”
“Attitudinal,” I corrected with a smirk. “Not attitudal. I know enough English to know that.”
She groaned and rolled her head back in frustration. “I can see why she’s your ex-wife now.”
I laughed and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her down onto the bed with me. Chloe squealed and grasped at my shirt with a little “oof” and fought back into a sitting position, straddling my waist with a sudden intense blush. Her shirt slipped up showing off a wide strip of skin, including the dip of navel and the glittering of her blue belly ring. My hands slid up over her hips and stopped at her waist where her shirt bunched up.
“Alex?”
My eyes flicked up to see her watching me with a lopsided smile and her head tilted to the side. I couldn’t even pretend to have heard whatever she said. “What was that?”
She giggled and took my hands in hers while leaning back slightly, she guided them up her body, stopping just short of her tits. “I asked why you decided to fly in early.”
I pushed myself up and jerked her toward me; one hand pressed flat against her lower back and the other twisted into her hair. Why did she have to worry about the details? Why couldn’t she just be happy that we could spend an extra evening together?
I kissed her again, trying to get her to forget the questions and just enjoy the moment. She moaned against me as my tongue swept her mouth and I could feel her unbuttoning the collar of my shirt. I pulled away just enough to kiss the corner of her mouth before going lower, urging her to tilt her head back and let me press soft kisses to the underside of her jaw and down her throat. I wanted to taste every inch of her body, I wanted her to feel how much I adored her.
“I missed you,” I whispered against her collarbone. “Isn’t that a good enough answer?”
“No,” she said with a breathless laugh. “I want to know more about you, I want to know why you want me around so much and what your life is like…”
Like a boyfriend. Which I was not. I wasn’t Chloe’s boyfriend; I wasn’t meeting her parents or introducing her to my family or even allowing myself to entertain the idea of more. It was one thing to pay a girl more than half my age to accompany me on trips, to fulfil my sexual needs, even my romantic needs, but I couldn’t date her. She would end up hating me the same way Marie did if she didn’t immediately resent what little I had to offer. She deserved someone her own age, someone that she could experience life with and grow old with, not a middle-aged divorcee.
The best I could offer her was my time and money.
“I think you are beautiful, and even charming in your own way,” I explained. “And my life is very boring when you aren’t around.”
She scoffed. “You’ve got all these friends around the world and you speak a bunch of languages, how could you call your life boring? I would love to get to just travel the world for different parties and stuff.”
I travelled now because I could. When I was her age, it was a luxury I couldn’t even begin to imagine for myself and growing up it was far worse. I made up for it now by sharing my wealth as much as possible – on the women I saw, on my family, on my friends, everyone in my life. But it was hollow. The security I spent my early twenties securing for my family had driven them away and they resented me for not being there when it most mattered, all I had left were friends that were really nothing more than business clients I had been lucky to meet when I was younger. Now they invited me to their political events and gallery openings, but it was a shell of relationship. Zamir and Amelia were the only people I could call friends, and I only ever saw them for parties and special events.
I knew that this looked glamorous to Chloe, it looked that way to Jazmin too and all the rest of my companions, but it wasn’t. I missed feeling grounded, I missed being at home. I was tired of drinking and flying and packing and check-in desks, I wanted to settle down.
The thought was so jarring that I completely froze with my lips pressed against her shoulder. Settle down? No, I meant just settle in, go home and lay in bed and not worry about another flight.
“I’ll take you anywhere you want to go,” I promised her. “All I want in return is your time.” And her body, her touch, her smile, her infectious laugh. That was all I needed.
“You can have me whenever you want me,” she said with a seductive purr.
I laughed and urged her into my lap, she squirmed away and jumped off the bed, saying that she had something for me. She retrieved a small book from the pocket on her luggage and rushed it over to me, quickly reclaiming her spot straddling me and showing off the book she brought.
It was a red chapbook with swirling scroll work on the front that said Songs of Innocence and of Experience by William Blake. Chloe flipped through it, excitedly pointing out her favourite poems and the matching illustrations. She lingered longest on one titled The Tyger and on another called The Lilly. Both had beautiful art but it was the way the passion in her voice made her glow and the focus she had on the work that made me fall in love with the words. She looked almost teary eyed as she handed me the book and made me swear on my life to protect it. I did, and I tucked it safely into the pocket of my jacket so that I could read it on the flight tomorrow.
Chloe and I laid there well into the early hours while I peppered her with questions about her family and deflected the ones about my own. In the back of my mind, I couldn’t stop thinking about my slip up and how sweet she was to bring me dinner.
Settle down… I turned my head to watch her for a moment, taking in the sight of her parted lips and the shadow of her dark lashes against her cheeks. Instinctively, I reached out and brushed her cheek as softly as I could, trying not to wake her. In another life it could have been her; one where I wasn’t so jaded, withdrawn, or depressed. A life together where I could get everything right and I wasn’t scared to tell her that I needed her to depend on me, that she was the only person I was living for anymore.
My eyes burned with tears and all I could do was gingerly pull her to my chest and bury my face in her hair. She didn’t seem to wake, just nuzzled into me with a gentle sigh while I held her there. I need you. Thank you.