Happy (21 page)

chest. Ma held out her hand and he took it.

“The operation went well,” the surgeon told them. “He’s in Recovery

now. They’ll be taking him to the ICU shortly, and then you’ll be able to

see him.”

Ma gave a little cry and sagged back against him. Peter exhaled.

“We ended up having to bypass three arteries. They were almost

completely blocked.”

“So this wasn’t something that could have been prevented, then?”

Peter asked, needing to know none of this was his fault. He felt someone’s

hand rub his back.

“With proper diet and exercise, possibly. But I don’t think Mr. Georgiou

was sticking to his doctor’s advice. Am I right? Frankly I’m surprised he wasn’t

in here a lot sooner. He had to have been having troubles for some time.

“There were no complications with the surgery, but at his age it could

be a slow recovery,” the doctor continued. “He’ll be here at least a week.

And in the future he’ll need to take things a little more seriously.”

“What is he saying?” Tina demanded in Greek. She unleashed a

barrage of questions.

“He’s saying Pop needs to take better care of himself,” Peter

translated.

“Where he is?” she asked the doctor in halting English.

“You can see him for a few minutes, but family only. He won’t be up

for any visits until tomorrow. He’s on a breathing tube right now.”

When a nurse offered to take them to the recovery area, Tina

immediately followed, but Peter hung back, needing a minute to himself.

Everything felt so unreal, the sounds suddenly too loud, the lights too bright.

He blinked, and then it slid back to normal.

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122

He glanced over his shoulder, back toward the waiting room where his

friends were gathered to support him, but the one person he wanted to see

most right now wasn’t there.

And he had only himself to blame.

Word of his pop’s heart attack spread quickly. His mother’s friends from

church banded together, offering drives to and from the hospital, bringing

food to the house. It was a relief to let other people take over for a while. He

reopened the restaurant because he knew that’s what Pop would want, and

it kept him occupied. Demetra texted him to see how he was doing and to

tell him they needed to talk. He made some vague excuse about being too

busy, promising to call her as soon as things got back to normal. In reality

he was afraid to talk to her, not because he figured she was about to end

it—that was well and truly over—but because he wasn’t ready to deal with

the subject of Louie yet.

On Kosta’s second day in the hospital, Elena, his ex, called to check on

him. She’d heard the news, and since she’d always been the most caring person

he knew, it came as no surprise that she would reach out. The sound of her

voice, still so warm and tender after so long, almost made Peter break down

over the phone. They talked for an hour, and when he hung up with a promise

to drop by, he would have given anything to go back to those simpler times.

The next morning found Peter sitting in his parked car in front of the

tidy brick house not entirely sure why he was there. Louie’s words about

Elena’s husband, Nick, came back to him and made him uneasy. Was that

it? Was he here because the need to know had never been very far from his

mind? Or was it something more?

He took a deep breath for courage, climbed out of the car, and

approached the house cautiously, smiling a little at the front porch with

its unmistakably Greek concrete balustrade and columns. The door opened

before he could even ring the bell, as if she’d been waiting for him, and

despite everything, his breath caught at his first sight of her. She was as

beautiful now as she’d ever been. A wave of memories swept over him and

left him paralyzed. “Shush, Nicky’s sleeping,” she explained in a hushed

voice, ushering him inside.

Peter entered, shaking off his momentary daze. Except for the

occasional passing nod at church, he hadn’t seen Elena since her wedding

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123

to Nick. Then, she’d been radiant and beautiful. Today, barefoot and dressed

in a faded pair of jeans and a red blouse, she was gorgeous. The thick mane

of chestnut curls he had loved so much was tied up on top of her head,

allowing a few tendrils to escape and frame her heart-shaped face.

She seemed to hesitate before giving him a brief hug. “How are you

doing? How’s your dad? I’m so glad you came over. I would have come to

you, but getting out of the house with a baby isn’t so easy these days.”

He assured her he was fine. Pop was fine.

Looking back, Elena was the closest he’d ever come to being in love.

For the longest time, he’d thought he was. He’d even asked her to marry

him. Still, something had held him back from taking the final step. After

a while, she got tired of waiting and ended their stalled engagement. He

couldn’t blame her. He couldn’t even say he’d truly been brokenhearted at

the time.

His memories receded as Elena led him through a cluttered living

room, scattered with enough toys to start a daycare. His steps slowed as

he passed the wedding portrait hanging over the fireplace. He scrutinized

Nick’s smiling face for hidden signs of discontent.

“Ma made some
bougatsa
. I know it’s your favorite,” Elena said. Peter

left the photograph and followed the scent of freshly brewed coffee and

pastries into the sun-filled kitchen. A tray of the cream-filled puffed pastries

he loved was laid out on the table. She had obviously gone to some trouble.

“Have a seat. It’s so good to see you again.” Elena poured them each a

mug of coffee and passed him the sugar. She set one pastry on a small plate

in front of him. “You look….”

“Yeah, I know.”

Elena reached out and stroked his face. “I was going to say you looked

tired.”“And you’re as beautiful as ever.” Elena blushed and pulled her hand

away. Her eyes glistened and he had the sense that maybe he’d been too

serious, too quickly. “Very maternal. In a hot and sexy way, of course.”

That made her giggle. “Thank you. I think.” She sipped her coffee. “I

don’t get out much these days, but I ran into your mom at church the other

weekend. She took great pleasure in telling me you were seeing someone.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “That’s Ma for you.”

“I think she still hates me.”

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124

“Are you kidding? I’m the one still in the doghouse for letting you

go. She brings it up at least once a month. ‘If only you’d married Elena.’”

He did a dead-on impersonation of his mother that made Elena laugh again.

“Really? I always had the impression no one would be good enough

for her boy. I think she’d keep you with her forever if she could.”

Peter was horrified. He shuddered at the thought.

“Do you ever wonder how things might have turned out with us?”

Elena asked thoughtfully.

“Sometimes,” he answered honestly. In fact, he
had
wondered, right

up until the moment he set foot in this house. But he had his answer now.

This wasn’t his life. It was strange, but he didn’t feel like he’d missed out.

Elena stared into her coffee cup for a minute. “Sometimes I find myself

thinking what it would have been like to marry you instead.” She cleared

her throat. “So? Is it serious? This relationship of yours.”

He thought of Demetra. And then Louie. “It’s complicated,” he hedged.

“What does that matter? Sometimes you just know.” She laid a hand

on his forearm. “I’m glad you’re here, Peter. Really. But the past is the past.

We have to move on.”

Peter blinked. She thought… she thought he was still moping over

her. He looked away so she wouldn’t see the truth in his eyes. “What about

you?” he asked. “Things are good?”

She looked tired and drawn around the eyes, but her smile was warm

and genuine. “Nicky’s started teething so….”

He had no clue what that meant, but he gathered it wasn’t something

to look forward to. “And Nick?”

Her arm hesitated a fraction as she raised her cup for a sip. “He’s

good. Working hard.” Something flickered in her eyes, but she turned her

head away and he lost it. “He got promoted at work. It’s kept him very

busy.” She grinned suddenly. “He’s a great father, Peter. He adores Nicky.

Let me show you.” She immediately produced a cell phone and called up

some pictures.

A loud wail erupted from somewhere upstairs and she winced. “So

much for adult time. I’ll be right back.”

Peter finished his coffee and listened to the sounds of footsteps

overhead. The crying tapered off.

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Elena reappeared carrying a chubby dark-haired baby on her hip. He

gnawed on a bright blue plastic ring, his chin shiny with drool. “This is

Nicky,” she introduced him.

Peter waved. “Um, hi, Nicky.”

“Want to hold him?”

He held his hands up in self-defense. “I’m not very good with babies.”

Elena laughed. “I remember. Don’t worry. That will change when you

have your own.”

Peter cringed and wished he didn’t tense up every time someone

mentioned babies.

“It’s exhausting,” Elena confessed, bouncing Nicky on her knee. “But

so worth it.”

“Don’t your parents help out?”

“Oh definitely. Ma is over almost every afternoon. And my dad helps

out with the house stuff. But I wish Nick….” Her hand fluttered. “Never

mind. Married people stuff.”

Peter squirmed as the baby stared at him with piercing intensity over

his teething ring. Louie was right, he realized with a start. Lying to yourself

was one thing, but how could you look into those innocent eyes and lie to

your child? Okay, lying might be a strong word. But how could you teach

them about honesty and love if you weren’t living it? How could you raise

them to believe anything is possible if you couldn’t believe it yourself?

The weight on his chest suddenly shifted.

“Are you okay, Peter?”

He broke out of his daze to find Elena staring at him in concern. He

felt like he’d just discovered something vital. “What? Oh yeah, I’m fine.”

And just like that he was.

They talked for a bit longer, until the coffeepot was empty and the

bougasta
was nearly gone; the conversation was light, as if by mutual

agreement they had decided against discussing the past.

Finally, Peter glanced at his watch. “I should go. I have to visit Pop

this afternoon. And then work this evening.”

Elena set the baby down on a blanket in the living room and walked

him to the front door. Her light touch brushed his arm. “Peter… I’m really

glad you stopped by.”

“Me too,” he replied. With one hand on the doorknob, he turned

around to face her. “Are you happy, Elena?”

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126

“Of course.” Maybe it’s because he knew what to look for, but he

thought the smile was tight, the eyes flat—like a mask. It was one he usually

wore too.

She enveloped him in a tight hug, maybe too tight, because as it went

on it seemed almost as if she were clinging to him. Her hand slid down his

back in a gentle caress. The smell of her shampoo, the feel of her breasts

against his chest—it was all so familiar. His body responded.

Then Elena raised her head, brushed his mouth with warm, soft,

clinging lips. It was Peter who took the step back, easing her away as gently

as he could.

“Oh my God. I-I’m sorry.” Elena covered her mouth with a trembling

hand. “I don’t know what happened.”

“It’s okay, Elena.”

Her eyes filled with tears, and then she was sobbing. “With the baby,

and Nick’s extra hours…. It’s not how I thought it would be. Sometimes I

get so lonely, Peter.”

He let her lean on him, cry on his shoulder. He stroked her hair and

breathed in her comforting scent. Nicky crawled over to them and stared

up at his mother in confusion, a steady stream of drool dripping from his

chin. If ever Peter needed a sign he’d made the right decision, this was it.

Whatever Nick was up to, it was affecting more than just him.

Finally Elena quietened. She moved out of his arms and wiped at her

eyes; her face was pink with embarrassment. “Sorry. I don’t know what

happened there. I get so emotional since Nicky was born.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he told her. He couldn’t stop himself from

brushing her damp cheek with the back of his fingers. “Maybe you and Nick

need some time alone,” he suggested. “Leave the baby with your parents.”

The brief flare of hope in her eyes made him feel guilty for suggesting

it. “You’re right. That’s a great idea. I’ll talk to Ma this afternoon.”

Peter made his exit, promising not to be a stranger, but he knew he

probably wouldn’t see her again. She was the past.

Somewhere out there was his future.

The confidence Peter had discovered earlier at Elena’s lasted until he

stepped into the quiet sterility of the cardiac care unit. Then suddenly he