“You two wait in the living room while I get Ma,” Daphne instructed, gesturing to the couches.
I nodded but inside I was trying to stop my jaw from hitting the floor. The house was traditional and pretty conservative on the outside, but interior it was open concept with bleached white wood floors and bright orange walls covered in what had to be hundreds of photographs. Some were of other people, houses, random places around Greece, and a few that I recognized from the Greek-Albanian border. Wow, they have pictures of everything.
Alex sidled up beside me and I brought my nails to lips, fighting not to bite on them as my eyes scanned the people in each frame. There was one of three women laughing, a young baby perched on the knee of the woman with the Farrah Fawcett haircut, boats on the water off in the distance, and a forgotten loom to the side. Another had three grinning toddlers at the beach, all them had unruly dark hair. In the centre of the wall was Daphne at her wedding, wearing a poufy white dress with her hair curled and teased to be twice as high, her husband grinning beside her while he held up their clasped hands.
“Your family takes a lot of photos,” I told Alex quietly.
“Mama always had a camera ready,” he replied with mild amusement. “Always. It drove us all crazy.”
I was nodding along as I listened to him when my gaze locked on the photo of a very sullen looking teen boy; he had wispy, wild curls and scowled at the camera. His outfit was atrocious; with a super baggy shirt unbuttoned too far and tucked into his well-fitted jeans.
Grinning I glanced at Alex from my peripheral and pointed at the photo.
“Is that you rocking the nineties fashion and teen angst?” I teased.
He smirked and pulled it off the wall. “God, I remember this; Kanavas told me I was going with Daphne to Crete for the summer. Mama told me to smile and it just pissed me off more. That was always her favourite time to take a picture – when I was pissy.”
“You’re the only child I know that wouldn’t have been thrilled to get away from their parents for the summer.”
“I was a teenage boy and I just discovered how to talk to girls, I thought it was going to kill me having to spend all that time alone with my sister away from all the pretty tourists.”
I giggled and shoved him before putting the photo back. “I get the feeling you were a ladies man.”
“What gave it away?” he asked, wrapping his arms around my waist. “Look at that kid and tell me you wouldn’t have fallen for his sad puppy act.” He gestured to another photo.
Alex was older in this one, his hair was still unkempt, but his body was less gangly, his jaw more defined and his smirk made smile to myself. “What was the ‘sad puppy act’?” I questioned.
His embrace tightened and his mouth met my ear, he forced himself to sound devastated, “My dad died and no one understands me, no one but you, my love, agápi mou, I need you to make me feel better—”
“Ohmigod, we’re never talking about this again you dick.” I shook my head. “I can’t believe you were like that.”
Alex laughed and kissed my shoulder. “Don’t crucify me yet; I was always nice to them, and they were always very niceto me.”
“I always knew you were a raging slut,” I complained half-heartedly. “A real rake. My mom warned me about guys like you.”
“Oh definitely, but if I wasn’t such a dog then I wouldn’t have Peter and then we wouldn’t have gotten back together.” He paused and kissed my throat. “You love it; you can’t keep your hands off me half the time.”
I rolled my eyes and patted his arm sarcastically. “Alright, keep it in your pants, big boy.”
“I struggle to do that with you,” he replied huskily.
“You’re awful,” I teased, turning around to see him fully. “We’re here to talk to your mom, not to get all hot and bothered.”
He shrugged and toyed with the chain on my necklace. “I use sex and humour to hide my emotions, and being in this house is difficult for me to try and be funny so I’m trying to go the only other route I know. Not to mention that we haven’t been as active lately.”
We just had sex this morning. Though I had to admit that if Mama wasn’t with us then I would’ve jumped him at every opportunity. Before I had the chance to say anything though, there was sudden loud voices coming from the back of the house followed by frantic footsteps.
An older woman with short messy brown hair, a dusting of silver on top, and bright golden eyes, barrelled into the living room. She came to a sudden stop and clutched her hand over her heart. She was tiny; a few inches shorter than me, with frail fingers carrying loose rings, and a dress that looked miles too big on her small frame.
“O gios mou,” she whispered, reaching for him. My son.
She repeated it over and over as she grabbed at his face, pulling him down to her level. She was busy raining kisses onto Alex’s cheek when Daphne came out behind her and chuckled to herself as she pinched the bridge of her nose.
Alex grinned ear to ear and held her hands in his while they talked, after a bit of back and forth he gestured to me and said my name before telling her that I didn’t speak Greek. One of the few phrases that I always remembered. I’ll really have to look into learning the language more, I’m sure Mama could help me out. I wanted to be able to talk to more people, especially Alex’s mom.
“Chloe, this is my mother, Kassandra,” he said gesturing to her.
I held out my hand and she clasped it in both of hers, as she stepped closer. Without warning, she reached up and touched my cheek and I felt frozen. She was so friendly and open, we couldn’t speak the same language but her touch spoke more than words ever could. I wished I could tell her that I loved her son, I wished I could ask her a million questions about her kids and Alex’s childhood.
After a moment she turned back to Alex and began leading him down the hall while gesturing for Daphne and I to stay. I watched them go with mild curiosity but followed his sister to the couch despite myself.
“I have to admit that this a warmer welcome than even I was expecting,” I told her with a short, self-conscious laugh.
She smiled and glanced back in their direction. “Ma talks about him all the time, she thought I was playing a cruel joke on her at first but once she realized that I was serious I couldn’t hold her back.”
“That’s awesome to hear, that’s all I wanted for Alex.”
“Can I ask how you met my brother?” she asked cautiously. “I mean, you don’t look like you would just run into each other.”
I shrugged. “I worked for Alex when I was living in the States, I quit eventually and we met again when I moved to Athens,” I answered easily. “You’ll probably hear about eventually, but I was um, actually dating his son – Peter. He cheated on me though and then Alex and I got back together.”
Daphne’s eyebrows shot up. “You dated Peter?”
“Yeah.” We were engaged too.
“Was that the first time you were with Zander or did things start before that?”
“We messed around in the States, but things ended…badly. Shit kind of hit the fan when I left.”
Daphne muttered something under her breath and made the sign of the cross. “I had no idea things between him and Marie ended. Is it recent?”
I smirked at the floor. “Well, that depends on the point of view. They’ve been separated for about a decade or so, anddivorced for only two years.”
“Separated for that long without a divorce?” she demanded. “What made him wait?”
I held out my hand to stop her from asking other questions. “I don’t really want to get into it, but it was her request that they not get divorced right away. From my understanding, it was because of the discrepancy between what she would get from spousal support and what she could save while they were married until she decided to marry someone else. Alex can tell you more about it, but it’s a sensitive subject.”
Alex had told me that Marie cried and begged him not to leave her “destitute” when it became clear that they couldn’t fix their marriage. She’d began her relationship for real with Mike but because she had another man to live with that provided most of her wants, and physical evidence of her adultery, she wouldn’t have gotten much in the divorce – and she didn’t in the end. She walked away with the house in Mykonos, not out from the judge, but because Alex signed it over to her. She got a nice cheque for raising a child together, but it wouldn’t have lasted long, especially if he had left her during the recession. In the end, he felt that it was his responsibility to care for her and had continued providing for both her andMike financially until Mike’s father died and he got his inheritance. Once that deposit cleared, Marie went through with the divorce and two months later they were married.
“Of course, she didn’t want him to leave,” Daphne seethed. “She couldn’t let him go no matter what.”
I nodded and glanced around the room awkwardly. My gaze drifted to the wall of photos; the ones with men were of Daphne and her husband, others with young boys and teenagers, but none of someone I could identify as Kanavas. “I didn’t see any pictures on the wall of your dad, was that on purpose?”
“Mostly, yes. The few that we have are locked away in Ma’s room; I prefer the happy memories out here for my kids to see.” Daphne trailed off and I watched her purse her lips as she gazed at the coffee table.
“Alex said he didn’t get along with him,” I said, trying to keep the sadness out of my tone.
Daphne shook her head and leaned back in the chair as she crossed her legs. “Kanavas and Zander used to go at it like wild dogs. It was constant. Stelios and Zander never fought unless Kanavas instigated it, things were just more difficult when he was around.”
“Do you all call him Kanavas?” I asked, mildly curious.
She lifted her shoulders. “Ma calls him Baba, but she had a better relationship with him than we did.”
No matter how much I fought with my parents as a teen or how angry I was at them, I had never called them by their names. I couldn’t imagine having such a bad relationship with them that I didn’t even consider my dad my dad anymore. I’m lucky, I reminded myself, very lucky to have a good relationship with them. Sure, I found Mama insufferable at times and Dad could be blissfully ignorant, but things always patched up quickly between us.
“What brought you two here, Chloe? Zander hasn’t returned a single call or letter in over twenty years and now you’re just showing up on our doorsteps to ask a million questions?”
It was my turn to shake my head. I leaned forward in my seat and tried to appeal to her, “I’m trying to help Alex, and part of that means getting him to repair some relationships.”
Daphne let out a sudden laugh and slammed her glass on the side table. “I invited Zander to my wedding and he didn’t even bother returning the invitation. I called him every day for six months and he refused to talk to me. I might have hugged him earlier, but that doesn’t mean I’m looking to fix things today.”
“Alex missed you,” I argued. “He was terrified to come here because he didn’t think that you’d want to see him. His relationship with Peter is pretty much non-existent and Marie spent their marriage in another man’s bed. He misses the only family he has left.”
Daphne sat their silently, her foot bouncing erratically. She twisted a long lock of hair around her finger absently, clearly lost in thought.
“Look, I don’t know the extent of everything that happened, and I probably never will—" Though I have a pretty good idea that someone had their hands in the pot when no one was looking. “—but I’m just trying to salvage what’s left of his relationships.”
“What does it matter to you?” Daphne asked sharply. “With everyone out of the picture it leaves you with more. What do you get for him coming back into our lives?”
Her eyes drifted down to my necklace and I felt my cheeks flame with embarrassment. “It means I get to make my husband happy and show him that he doesn’t need to be angry with himself for the rest or our lives,” I replied bitterly. “I don’t need to defend myself to you, or anyone else for that matter, but I’m here for him and to get you guys to come to our wedding.”
Daphne didn’t say anything but she suddenly reached up and blotted under her eye with her thumb. After a moment, she got up and excused herself from the room, quickly heading through the kitchen while I sat there awkwardly. A door shut loudly and I finally pushed myself up off the chair.
Slowly, I inched toward the kitchen, running my hand along the wall. My fingers brushed the frame of a photo that wobbled, I straightened it and felt my breathing stop as my eyes locked on it. Alex stood next to Marie, a much younger Marie with feathered rust coloured hair and beaming smile. She was much slimmer than she was now, everything else about her was the same, especially her bright blue eyes. Alex was smiling in the photo but it didn’t touch his eyes, the fading bruise on his cheek did though.
My heart clenched painfully while I ran my fingers over the cool glass, trying to convince myself that it was just the shadows and weird basement lighting. It wasn’t. No matter how much I wished it was, that was clearly a fading bruise and the flinty stare of young man trying to keep himself composed. I turned away from the image, trying not to let it sear itself into my brain. With determination, I forced myself to stay composed and go find Daphne while Alex was still off with his mom.
The rustic refurbished doors to the back patio were ajar and I slowly crept towards them and the warm sunlight the shone through the slats. As I pushed the door open, I could see Daphne leaning against the stark white post of the pergola and the still damp orange curtains fluttered gently in the breeze. It smelled like fresh rain and cut grass – calming.
The dog sat at her feet, scratching his ears and panting lightly. It was such a normal and even picturesque scene, and being so far away from other people made me feel like I was seeing the beauty of Greece for the first time.
“Daphne,” I called to her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”
She glanced at me over her shoulder. “You remind me of my daughter,” she said quietly. “Anastasia. She lives in Cairo now.”
“Do you have any other kids?” I asked, trying to get us back on easier conversations.
She turned around and came to sit on the arm of the wicker chair. “Four daughters, one son, Ana is the oldest at twenty-four, my son is the youngest and he’s only sixteen.”
“Do they live here with you?” I hadn’t seen any indication of them, or her husband for that matter.
“Oh, of course, he’s with my husband right now to get some experience with electrical work, my other girls live here too but they often stay out with their boyfriends.” She chuckled and wiped her hands down her thighs. “Luke gets more work here than he did back in the United States, it helps to be good friends with so many people in the surrounding towns.”
“Your husband’s American?”
She nodded and smirked to herself. “Ma almost shit herself, I think she thought I would move with him but I promised to learn better English if he stayed.” She spread her hands wide in a what-can-you-do gesture. “Twenty-four years later and we’re still going strong,” she continued with a laugh.
I smiled to myself and took the seat across from her. “You got married when you were eighteen too, like your brother.”
“It’s common in our family – Ma got married at fifteen. There’s no nice or flowery way to say that we were a bunch of—uh, hm, choriátis? I think Luke calls them hicks? We were mostly homeschooled because it cost a lot to get a ferry to run to and from the mainland and Kanavas didn’t want to use his fishing boat. It was a miracle that we even got married before I had Ana.” She shook her head and rubbed her fingers over her lower lip, lost in thought for a minute. “Does Zander still live on that island?”
“Right now he does. Marie was living there while he was gone but he kicked her out and moved me in permanently,” I replied, trying not to gloat but failing to keep the pride from my voice.
“He kicked her out?” she demanded; her eyes wide.
“Yup.”
“For you?”
I nodded and brought my legs up on the chair.
“I can’t believe he got rid of her,” she whispered as she scratched the dog’s ear absently. “How did you do it?”
“I didn’t do anything; she made nasty comments about me and told him I wasn’t allowed to live with him, and he laid it all out. She’s supposed to be in Mykonos now.”
Daphne stared at me as if she was seeing me for the first time; her lips parted, her sharp eyes focused and brow furrowed. She leaned forward on the chair and it creaked. “What did you do to him?” she asked almost like she was terrified.
What? “Nothing,” I answered quickly. “I didn’t do anything; Alex and I just rekindled a relationship we used to have and he chose me over her. Now I’m just trying to give him everything he deserves.” Alex had done so much for me both directly and indirectly, and I couldn’t repay the favour financially, but I could do it emotionally. For every angry fight when he refused to tell me things about his family, for every drunken night where he told me they would never forgive him – this was the one thing that I could do, and it was three years in the making.
Daphne’s lip trembled but she didn’t look away. “Marie hated us,” she whispered. “She said we were holding him back and would spend hours screaming at Ma about it. We wanted Zander there and we wanted Peter too, but Marie just hated it with us in the house. When we talked to him about her, she got upset and said we were poisoning him against her. We moved three months after that awful night.”
Her words made my chest hurt and I glanced back at the far end of the house. “Alex still doesn’t say anything bad about her,” I replied, trying to stay as quiet as possible. “She’ll always be Peter’s mom to him, even when she was his unfaithful wife.”
“She’s like Kanavas,” Daphne hissed. “She wasn’t violent, not like he was, but she said the same things – that Zander was useless, he was a terrible father and a worse husband… I tried to talk to him, but he just pulled away from me.”
Daphne was fully crying now and rushing to wipe her cheeks. She sniffled and I reached for her hand; the only thing I could think of to comfort her. She took my offering and squeezed hard as she pushed her wet hair away from her face.
All I could think of was the dozens of dinners we had once I had finally met Marie in person, how often she made snide comments about me and my work at the time, the way she couldn’t stop praising Peter for the tiniest thing he did and the way she always fought with Alex about their son. A million tiny arguments that they tried to keep out of earshot that always led to a bashful looking Mike, a defeated Alex, and an irritated Marie.
I didn’t think she was evil and heartless. More accurately; I thought she was toxic and angry. I don’t think she set out to treat Alex badly, she certainly wasn’t after money because they didn’t have any for several years either. But she used things to her advantage, whether she’d chose to, or accidentally, manipulate Alex with the same emotional abuse his father had didn’t matter, she’d still done years of damage.
As I watched Daphne cry and heard the distant rumbling of the thunderstorm, all I could think of was my dad telling me that abuse victims often had more than one perpetrator. He was a psychiatrist, and when I’d brashly said that I didn’t understand why someone wouldn’t just leave if they were being abused, he sat me down and made me listen to his stories and the reality of the situation for most victims.
Alex didn’t look like he would be a victim, honestly if you had seen him and Marie in the same room then you would’ve thought he was the aggressor. But outside of him hitting Peter in the living room when we caught him cheating, I’d never seen him do anything violent or aggressive. We fought at times when I was his sugar baby, yelling at each other and angry accusations, but he kept his distance and often chose to leave the room to calm down. Hell, he’d even done that after I basically called him a shit father on the plane ride home from Vegas. He was always the victim, I realized with a jolt, he always said he wasn’t good enough, he always told me that I deserved a better man. His confidence was always a façade, I knew that then and now, but I could see it strengthening, I could feel him starting to believe himself.
“Glykia mou?”
I jumped at the sound of his voice and got to my feet. Alex stood in the doorway with his mom holding onto his arm. She reached for me suddenly and pulled me in for a bone crushing hug.
“Oh!” I cried out.
The older woman was warm, boney, and smelled like lilacs. She murmured away to me in Greek, cooing excitedly as she petted my hair and assessed me from all angles – turning me in a circle and gently feeling my neck. I had no idea what she was saying but I could see the tears glistening in her warm brown eyes as she closely admired my ring.
“Agapé,” she said determinedly. “Agapé – love.” She patted her heart and gestured to me.
Oh… She was sweet, so incredibly sweet, and I could feel the kindness radiating off her.
“Ki egó s ‘ agapó,” I answered slowly, trying to remember the words to say I love you, too.
She laughed excitedly and patted my cheek while she turned and chatted animatedly at Alex. He smiled at me and my heart started to race at the happiness in his eyes, a look I’d so rarely seen before we were married.
She suddenly tugged on his arm insistently while gesturing at the house. Alex flushed and stuttered faintly as he glanced between me and her.
“She wants us to stay for the night. What do you think about it?”
Well, I mean, how could I say no after everything else today?