“Where is he?” Mama demanded, setting her suitcase down on the dock.
“At the house, cleaning up,” I answered, grabbing the bag and slinging the other over my shoulder.
She pursed her lips but didn’t say anything else. I grabbed her luggage; swinging the one bag over my shoulder and picking up the other before we started down the path to the houses. The packed down dirt was soft and kicked up dust around us. I could feel myself beaming while we walked along the path; the breeze was nice, mama hadn’t stuck her foot in her mouth, and I was still thrilled at how my morning had gone.
“There are two houses?” Mama demanded.
I looked away and rolled my eyes. “Yes, I told you that when I moved in with Peter.”
“No, you told me you and Peter were living in a bungalow owned by his father.”
“Okay, well that is a bungalow owned by Alex.”
She cast me a sidelong look. “Where am I staying?”
“I figured you would want to stay in the bungalow now that Peter moved out.” Dear God, don’t let her want to stay in the main house.
“Are you in that big house?”
“…Yeah.”
“Why would I stay at the other one then? I came here to be with you.”
Because I feel like I can’t have sex with my husband if you’re in the house. “Well, I mean you can if you want to…”
“I want to.”
We continued on in silence for a while, I chewed the corner of my lip in contemplation, trying to figure out what room we could put her in that wouldn’t freak me out.
She cleared her throat suddenly and I jumped in surprise. “So, are you and him staying the same room?” she asked.
There was something weird that I could hear in her voice, as if she was trying to act nonchalant. “Yes,” I answered slowly. “Why?”
“I was just curious, that’s all.”
“Mama, please don’t make this a big deal,” I pleaded. “Please, Alex is happy that you wanted to come stay with us, he’s hoping you guys can get to know each other over the next few days. I’m hoping you’ll get along too.”
She nodded but didn’t look at me. We reached the porch and Alex propped the door open before coming to take the bags from us. The three of us filed into the living room and kicked our shoes off. Mama looked around, clearly in awe as she gazed up at the exposed beams and admired the view.
“Konstantina, I have a room for you ready at the back if you would like to see it,” Alex offered, smiling warmly at her.
I turned to hide my smile, instantly recognizing the tone shift in his voice to become the salesman.
“Not upstairs?” she asked, gesturing to the catwalk which very clearly showed only one door.
“No, there is only one bedroom up there,” he said chipperly. “Here, I’ll grab your things.”
“Let me help,” I murmured, grabbing the other bad before he had a chance.
I followed him down the hall to the back guestroom, the one where Mike and Marie had stayed because it had doors that opened right onto the back deck. I set the duffle bag on the bed and watched her delicately run her finger along the bed spread as she looked around.
“Do you like it?” I asked, hopeful.
“It’s beautiful, thank you,” she said, nodding at Alex. “Now, do I get a tour? It’s such a lovely house, I’d love to see all of it.”
“Uh,” I glanced at Alex and he shrugged. “Sure, follow me…”
What could I possibly show her? It was a house, it had typical house rooms in it, there was nothing else to it. She trailed behind me into the hall and I gestured to the door opposite hers.
“This is the other guestroom,” I said, opening the door to show her that it was smaller. “You’ve got an ensuite but the other bathroom is right here, and this one is Alex’s workspace.”
“His office,” she mused, eyeing the door suspiciously.
“No, my office is across the hall, my workspace is for crafts because it’s messy. I do quite a bit of woodworking in my spare time, as well as drafting.”
Mama tsked. “That doesn’t sound very safe for kids.”
I suppressed a groan and forced myself to smile. “What do you want to do today, Mama? We could stay in or go to the city, whatever you want.”
Alex touched my back and I smiled up at him. “If you would like me to get out of your hair so you and Chloe can spend the day together, I can,” he offered.
Always the gentleman.
“That might be nice,” she replied, but not looking quite sold. “Yes…maybe a day alone together would be a nice idea, if you don’t mind anyway. I wouldn’t want to chase you out of your own home.”
He held up his hands and smiled, bowing his head. “You’re not chasing me, I know you came all this way to see her and I don’t want to get between that.” He paused and gave me a quick kiss. “I’m going to change and then I’ll get out of your hair. I’ll text you when I’m on my way home.”
I grabbed his hand and squeezed as he passed by. “Alright, see you tonight.”
I went and took a seat on the sofa with mom while Alex went and got changed, we sat together but she was silent while she tapped away on her phone. She’s probably texting her sisters. Or dad. I already knew she told dad that I eloped and besides texting with him a bit, we hadn’t spoken about it over the phone. I wasn’t entirely sure that he actually believed me or mama.
Alex eventually left the two of us alone in the house and I began to feel my soul dying. She wanted to see our bedroom, something I found entirely too personal but complied with anyway. I left her twice to use the bathrooms and both times I found her snooping in Alex’s things, once trying to get into his locked workspace and claiming that it was weird that he locked it. I was glad he did, I had horrible visions of her getting in there and cutting her fingers off with the fret saw.
I opened up wine for us pretty quickly, though I had reached for a beer and changed my mind only when she made a comment about me not being trailer trash. Classy, mama, keep it up. But the worst was when she got enough in her to drink that she got ballsy, peppering me with dozens of questions, wondering if Alex and I had sex and if I had any questions about ‘the process’ – which also made me rethink that gooey stuff I had thought about her and dad because if she was calling sex a process I couldn’t imagine that they did much together.
The hardball questions she left until after dinner; the ones about Peter, about Alex’s family, and whether we would be expanding that family.
“He’s not a young man, Chloe. Does he even want more kids?”
“I don’t know,” I said, pouring myself another glass of rosé. I sipped the wine and lounged back in my chair; our game of cribbage forgotten.
She scoffed. “You haven’t talked about that yet?”
“We’ve been married a week, mama, give us some time here.”
“Most people talk about that before they’re married.” She drilled her nails against the glass tabletop loudly. “You know there isn’t a lot of room here for kids, and it certainly isn’t safe, especially those stairs.”
I like the stairs. I liked everything about our house. “Pregnancy is nine months, the baby won’t even be crawling for like what, a year after that? We’ve got plenty of time if we decide to have kids.” And that was a strong if after the near panic attack I had at the clinic with Lena.
“You always wanted kids before him,” she complained sourly.
I rolled my eyes and downed the rest of my glass. “I don’t know how I feel about it anymore, and you said it yourself – Alex isn’t that young and I doubt he wants to spend his good years or retirement changing diapers.”
“Why?” she demanded, leaning forward. “Why not someone your age, Chloe, someone who you can relate to, someone who hasn’t lived an entire life before you. Why him?”
I looked down at my ring, feeling my throat constrict at all the things I wanted to tell her. Because Alex saw me when no one else did, because he’s a good man, because he makes me feel important, because he was my first and I value that on so many levels… Because I couldn’t imagine waiting to find someone that treats me the way he does just so that I could find a younger man.
“Because I love him, and that should be enough for you.”
“You don’t even know him!” she cried, jumping up. “You met Peter’s parents when he proposed, what, six months ago now? Somehow, in that time where you were engaged, you fell in love and eloped?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“What do you mean ‘no’?”
“I mean I don’t buy it. Are you pregnant too? Do you need money? You know papa and I can always help—”
“It’s not about money!” I couldn’t believe she would even say that.
“Then what is it, Chloe, tell me the truth for once.”
“I always tell you the truth,” I snapped at her. “Always, even when you didn’t believe it, and I’m telling it now that I have no real explanation for you about why I love him, but I do. I have for years, and I tried to get over it and now I’m finally admitting it.”
“Years?” she asked incredulously. “You haven’t known him for years, you’ve known each other six months!”
I let out an angry huff and got out of my seat, pacing around the dining room. “Alex and I have known each other longer than that,” I told her quietly.
“How long?”
“About three years.”
“You met when you were nineteen?” she demanded, leaning forward with a curled lip. “It doesn’t strike you as creepy that a grown man would want a nineteen-year-old?”
“No.” I didn’t correct her that I met Alex a month before I turned nineteen, that wouldn’t help our case.
“How did you even meet; you were working that secretary job—” she stopped and the colour drained out of her face. “Were you working for him?”
My “secretary job” had been a pretty decent cover at the time; I told her I worked across the city and my boss was demanding, he needed me there at all hours of the day, and often needed me on business trips. “Yes.”
She seemed to choke and looked away quickly, her hand at her throat and her shoulders shaking, she sniffled quietly and finally turned back around to look at me. “Did he ever make you feel like you had to—”
“No,” I interrupted. “Never.” Alex had always treated me well, and even though he paid for our dates, I never felt pressured to do anything with him. The way he talked to me, bantered with me, I him found charming, he was outgoing, and it made me want him. It also made it easy to cross that line unexpectedly; the point where you aren’t quite sure what your relationship is anymore, and if it could even be called a job. I don’t know where the line was, or when I had passed it, but I knew in the Bahamas that leaving him was the best thing I could do for either of us.
“How did you meet Peter? When did you leave Alex, and decide to form a relationship with his son?”
I felt like I was repeating myself but I told her everything about Lena inviting me to a party and introducing me to Peter. I left out the part where we fucked on the counter, the first and only guy I fucked after Alex. I played dumb, telling her that I knew nothing about their connection when really, when I looked back, I could see the signs, all the little things I had ignored in favour of being with the guy that looked like Alex and therefore fulfilled my fantasies.
His name was always going to be the biggest red flag, the fact that he lived on an island, what he did for work, even his mother’s name – I ignored everything because I wanted to pretend that I had the younger Alex, the one that I could be with without stigma.
“Mama…” I trailed of and ran my hands through my hair. “I don’t know what to tell you anymore. I love him, and I have for a while, and things are really messed up in my life but all I want is for someone in my family to take my side. Just once.”
“I always take your side, Chloe,” she said, softening.
“It doesn’t feel like it, it never has.”
Her face fell and I just shrugged. It was the truth; everyone in my family felt like they were against me, my dozens of cousins, my aunts, my uncles, I felt like I was drowning and none of them even wanted to throw me a rope.
Silence hung between us, heavy and hopeless. I took my spot back down at the table and checked my phone. I had several missed texts from Alex, all from almost an hour ago. I made to read them but heard the porch creak and realized he was home. Pushing myself back up from my chair, I went to get the door, unlocking the chain and pulling it open excitedly.
Alex had his keys in his hand and looked vaguely surprised when I was suddenly standing in front of him. He pulled me in for a hug and I held him tight, hoping he could feel how glad I was that he was home now.
“Glykia mou, don’t be mad at me,” he pleaded quietly enough that my mom couldn’t hear. “Peter’s in the guesthouse.”
“What?” I whispered, pulling away in confusion.
“He wants to talk to you about the baby, I told him no, but I didn’t want him to go back to a hotel tonight with how upset he was.”
I didn’t know what to say and just shook my head. Why did he want to talk to me about the baby? Where was Lena?