Nicolai's Daughters (33 page)

“My day hasn't even started.”

She glanced at her watch. “God, I am so stupid,” she said. “I woke you.”

“I had to answer the phone anyway.” She heard him kick the sheets off.

“I'm sorry.”

“Stop,” Dan said. “The girl I know makes no apologies.”

“I'm thinking of flying back next week,” Alexia said. “It's time. That's really all I wanted to say. Just ignore the rest.” She touched her face, felt her cheeks turn hot.

“As much as I want you back,” Dan said, “and let me make this clear since it's the middle of the night and we're both being honest and all. As much as I want you back for me, not the office, I think you should stay and sort things out.”

She gasped. Put her hand over her mouth. She gulped down the rushing tears.

“Are you still there?”

She swallowed and cleared her throat. “Yup.”

“And you're okay with that?”

What did he look like propped up against his pillow? What would it feel like to have his arms around her? She realized that she'd thought about these questions before. “Yup.”

“All right then, sort stuff out like only you can,” he said. “I'll wait, kiddo.”

Alexia came into the house. Neighbours had already begun to arrive for a drink and a chat. Her aunts and cousins walked in and found a spot on the couch or the floor to sit. They talked over each other, laughed. She went upstairs and changed for church. She brushed out her hair, left it down. “For me,” Dan had said. She repeated the words with each stroke. When had she become so silly?

She heard Solon's voice. “We're ready to go.”

Concentrate, she told herself. You've got to deal with one thing at a time. Christina. Be honest with her, stand your ground. She'll understand. Alexia went downstairs.

“Very beautiful,” he said. “Isn't she, Christina?”

“Let's not give her the evil eye,” Christina said. She knocked three times on the wooden table beside her, made a spitting sound, but didn't look at Alexia.

Maria said, “
Ella, paidi mou
. These are our old ways. You don't believe in this.”

“Maybe she'll find her husband tonight?” Katarina said.

“Not in this village,” Christina said.

Alexia smiled. They were all crazy, but they were hers. She loved them.

She felt an arm around her shoulder and settled back into the embrace. She thought about her father just then. His touch had the same warmth. He'd be happy they were together. She missed him.

She turned. Christina stood beside her. She dropped her arm and held onto Alexia's hand. “Solon is never right. But, today is different. You are very beautiful.” Alexia met her gaze and nodded. She put her arms around Christina and held her close, breathed in her scent, a mix of flour and lavender.

“Women and their emotions,” Solon said.

Christina shrugged. Alexia laughed.

“It is better this way.” Solon kissed Christina's cheek, then moved towards the door. “The church isn't going to wait for us.”

They poured out the doorway. The children ran ahead. Alexia could hear their laughter even though she was at the back of the procession. Maria and Katarina started off with their husbands, but ended up together behind the children. They walked arm in arm. Solon and Zak and Maria's husband kept well behind, but every once in a while, when Maria caught the discussion about politics, she turned and said, “Can't we stop even at Easter?”

“What do you women know?”

Maria laughed. “At least we know what is interesting to talk about.”

Alexia put her arm into Christina's. “I'm sorry,
Thia
.”

Christina shrugged. “I only worry for you.”

“I haven't made good decisions lately.” Alexia didn't say his name.

Christina stopped and turned towards her. “You are a smart girl,” she said. “I know you will do what is right.”

Alexia nodded. “I am going to tell Theodora the truth
, Thia
.”

“There will be talk.”

Alexia took Christina's hands in hers. “I will deal with it.”

“But it involves all of us.” Christina met Alexia's eyes.

“It's what he wanted. I can't run away from it. And it's what I want too.”

Christina nodded. “I don't know what will happen to all of us.”

“These secrets haven't helped any of us,” Alexia said. “Maybe we should try a different way.”

Christina stared at Alexia.

Alexia tilted her head. “What do you think?”

“You have a point. No?”

“And
Thia,
it's time to stop blaming yourself for what happened to Nicolai.”

“Your father told me the same thing when I was in Canada.”

“And you didn't believe him?”

“But,” Christina said.

“There is no but,” Alexia said. “It wasn't your fault.”

Christina fluttered her eyes closed, then opened them. Alexia thought she saw a slight nod.

Christina lit a candle as they entered the church and found a seat. Alexia followed, taking the chair beside her. The men sat on one side, the women on the other.

The small church echoed with a low, persistent drone. Alexia felt the murmur of the men's chanting in her chest. She gazed up at the gold-encrusted ceiling. She followed her family's lead, standing, kneeling and sitting whenever they did. She fell into the rhythm of the service. She couldn't remember another time in her life when she'd been so overwhelmed and in awe at the same time. Then it came to her.

It was the first Easter after her mother died. Her father had come back from Greece months earlier and they'd settled into the new place. She'd been tired that Sunday and wasn't sure she wanted to go. She hadn't been to this church before. He'd insisted and taken her to a Greek Orthodox service. They'd sat close, his arm around her shoulders. The church in Vancouver was modern. It didn't separate the men and women. It was less formal, yet there were similarities, too. The chanting had vibrated in her chest that day. Her father's touch, the priest's voice, the men's voices made her feel safe, protected, loved. It was the first time since her mother died that she didn't feel alone, didn't feel like she had to take care of him, find a way to fix everything. The feeling hadn't lasted, but it did happen.

She heard a bell chime softly and stood up with everyone else. The priest moved down the aisle. Behind him, the massive wooden cross was lifted onto the shoulders of a dozen men, including her uncles and cousins. Each man took a section. They walked out of the church. The women followed. Streetlights and store lights had been turned off. People lined the streets on both sides and held candles, crossed themselves as the priest and the procession passed. A breeze came up. Alexia cupped her candle to protect the light. The flame burned brighter.

As they turned the corner, she saw Achilles on the stoop just in front of a bar. As they passed, Achilles had a beer in one hand and his arm around a woman Alexia remembered seeing before. The woman cupped a candle in her hands.

Alexia shook her head as she caught his eye.

He shrugged, held up his beer as if to toast her.

She nodded, turned her gaze to her family, walking on every side of her.

2010

Theodora sat cross-legged on the kitchen floor, her trousers a flimsy layer of protection against the cold slate. She looked around for her sweater. It hung on the chair in the opposite corner of the room. Too far. She leaned against the cupboard. The knob burrowed into her shoulder blade. She pressed harder into it. In her arms, stacks of unopened envelopes. Her name on each one.

The tap dripped. The hollow sound was louder than ever. “I'll get to it when I have some time,” Andreas would say whenever she complained. He might never get to it now. Would he walk back through that kitchen door? Be here with her? “We bring trouble on our heads when we are noticed.”

She shook her head. This was more trouble than Andreas could understand. Alexia was her sister. Not a friend. A half-sister. All this time, Alexia had kept it a secret, letting Theodora think she'd made a new friend. All of it, a lie.

She pushed herself against the knob. Her mother had said her father died before she was born. More lies. Stupid, trusting Theodora.

There
was
some hint. “I see it,” Theodora had said to Dimitria. She was looking at one of her mother's sketches. One of the first ones she remembered. An angry, dark sea. And submerged at the bottom of one of the relentless waves: an outline. Cheekbones. Nose. A closed mouth. Eyes shut tight. Asleep or dead?

Her mother's back was turned away. She was busy with a new drawing. Theodora knew she shouldn't bother her, but she had to ask.

“It looks like a face.”

“I put my hand down on the paper,” Dimitria said not turning, “and never know what will happen. It appears. I don't know where he came from.”

“But you know it's a man.”

“Did I say that?”

Theodora made it into a game. She'd examine each of her mother's sketches to see where he'd appear. Sometimes he was buried in a cloud or a grove of trees. Other times, he was hidden in one corner outside the main scene. It took a bit of looking. But she'd always find him. It was strange that her mother didn't see him. She created him over and over again, yet never seemed to know he was there on the canvas. Theodora had been so proud of herself. She'd seen something no one else could see.

Theodora shook her head. Trusting. That's all. Nothing special. Just naïve.

She glanced over at the back door. No sign of Andreas.

A few hours ago, Alexia had come through that door. She'd suggested they go for a walk. She should have gone, left Elena to take care of Nicky. If she'd done that, she would have heard the news first, then had time to digest it, think about what she'd tell Andreas. She'd always known how to pick the right time to talk to him.

She'd invited Alexia into the kitchen. Elena was sitting at the kitchen table, her lips a straight line. Theodora had done something wrong again. She wasn't sure what. Maybe it was because she'd allowed Nicky to play on the floor. She talked quickly, filling the room with her voice.

“We'll have some apricot juice. You can meet my mother-in-law.” She should have seen it in Alexia's eyes. Perhaps she had, but she needed a break from Elena. She'd been at the house all afternoon. She could use a friend to share the misery.

Alexia suggested they go into the other room to talk. “Or I could come back.”

Elena pushed a chair toward Alexia, motioned for her to sit down. “I've heard about the Canadian friend for weeks. And now she wants to run away before I have the pleasure of meeting her.”

Turning to grab some glasses from the cupboard, Theodora ignored Alexia's helpless smile. “It's okay. We can visit here,” she said into the cupboard. She couldn't find the glasses she wanted. She stared at the dishes in front of her as if she had forgotten exactly what it was she was looking for.

Alexia dropped her bag at the door. Theodora jumped. She stared at the dishes. Not this cupboard, she said to herself. She flicked the door closed, opened another one and found the glasses she wanted.

Alexia came into the kitchen and sat down. Theodora filled the glasses and set them on the table. A few drops of juice spilled. She turned to grab a rag. “It's nothing,” Alexia said. “Don't worry.” She touched Theodora's arm. Alexia's hand comforted her.

Theodora nodded. Elena sighed.

Theodora handed Alexia a napkin, then passed one to Elena. In the middle of the table, Theodora put a plate of Easter cookies. She sat down beside Alexia. Elena sat opposite them, inscrutable.

“They look delicious.” Alexia reached for a cookie. “I used to bake with my aunt. And my mom before that. I haven't done it in so long,” Alexia said. “Maybe I should start again. Get some of your recipes.”

“We are still in mourning. It is only Saturday. Christ rises tonight at midnight, not before,” Elena said. “But you're not Greek. You can't understand these things.” She choked out a laugh.

“I am Greek.” Alexia put the cookie down on her napkin, wiped her fingers.

“Then, your family should have taught you our ways.” Elena leaned and tapped the table with her index finger. “Yes or no?”

God, why must she always be this way? Theodora wondered. Even with people she doesn't know.

“My father practised his religion,” Alexia said.

“And you?”

“Nothing was forced on me.” Alexia turned toward Theodora.

Theodora smiled weakly.

“Then I blame him for not teaching you correctly. Children are never at fault. They are innocent. What do they know?” She leaned back in her chair and picked up Nicky. He pushed at her, wriggling back to the floor. “We won't have that happen with this one. I am here to make sure. He will understand our ways.”

“
Ella
,” Theodora said. “She lives in Canada. She didn't grow up here.”

“Yes, of course.” Again, Elena tapped her finger against the table.

Theodora poured each of them some more juice. The cookies lay untouched. They sipped in silence. “Did you go to church yesterday for Good Friday?” Theodora asked, clearing her throat.

“Yes. I felt very small in all the tradition. It was very inspiring.”

Elena nodded once as if in approval.

Steel crashed against steel. Elena held her heart, shook her head. She picked Nicky up again. His cars fell, battering the floor. He screamed in protest, reached out to Theodora. “I will take him upstairs,” Elena said. “You visit.”

“It's okay, Nicky,” Theodora said. “Go with
yiayia
.”

Elena disappeared with Nicky upstairs.

“I came to talk to you,” Alexia said.

Theodora put her finger to her mouth. She stood up and went to the stairs. She heard Elena in Nicky's room.

“What's wrong?” she asked, sitting down at the table beside Alexia.

Alexia moved her chair closer. “I haven't told you the truth.”

Theodora watched Alexia's face.

“I came to Greece to find you. It was my father's last wish.”

“I don't understand. Why?”

“My father is your father. Your mother and my father were together. I don't know how else to say it. When he was in Greece. After my mother died.”

She's staring at me, Theodora thought, saying things I don't understand. Why is she doing this? She couldn't look at Alexia anymore. Theodora stared at the half-empty glass of apricot juice in front of her. An orange film was drying, crusting. She couldn't see through the glass.

“The bag is for you. It's full of letters he wrote to you.”

What bag? she wondered. She looked around, saw it sitting by the kitchen door. Confirmation of everything all the kids she grew up with used to say about her, about her mother. This can't be, Theodora thought. More shame. Even now.

She closed her eyes tight. She couldn't bring more shame on her family. I've done enough to embarrass Andreas. And he'd always protected her.

Theodora felt Alexia's hand on her arm. She stood up, grabbed the chair and tried to push it towards the table. It wouldn't fit back into place.

She heard someone on the stairs. Theodora rolled her eyes.

Elena came into the kitchen, seized her purse from the counter. She quickly walked towards the door without looking at either Theodora or Alexia. “He's down for his nap. I will go now.”

“Elena, please,” Theodora said, trying to stay calm, not plead.

Elena turned.

“Stay,” Alexia said. “I interrupted your visit. It was a pleasure to meet you, Elena. I really must go.”

“Come to Diakofto for Easter, tomorrow,” Alexia said. “Meet us all.” She squeezed Theodora's hand, smiled and left.

Is she oblivious to what she's done? Theodora wondered. She stood still, watching Elena. Could she convince Elena to keep this quiet? She needed to make sense of it herself first. Then she'd find a way to tell Andreas.

“She could have waited until after Easter,” Elena said. She checked her lipstick in the compact mirror she always carried. The lines around her mouth released into a sly smile. She snapped the compact shut, threw it back in her purse. “I have things to do now,” Elena said. She left brusquely, as if leaving a shop where the clerk was a stranger, one who tried to cheat her.

Theodora couldn't feel the legs beneath her. She held onto the counter. Elena would be off to the butcher shop, busy with Easter shoppers. She'd drag Andreas to the back of the shop. The sound of the freezers would mask her words, meant only for him. “I warned you about her.” She would stand in front of him, her hand cuffing his wrist, making sure he didn't move. She'd make him hear the whole story. He'd bow his head. She'd put a hand to his cheek, so he looked at her. “There is no end to the trouble she causes,” Elena would whisper. “Of course it's not her fault. It's her mother's, but what can we do now? I probably shouldn't tell you, but you're my son. I only want the best for you. This is my only reason. I can't watch you make one mistake after another.”

In her rush, Elena had left the door ajar. Theodora shut it and saw the bag Alexia had left. She stood away from it, as if getting closer would burn her. Her breath came in short bursts. She had to calm herself down, think about what to do. Think. She took a deep breath, then another. Finally, she grabbed the bag and slid down against the cupboard. Maybe the answers were in these envelopes.

Theodora heard Nicky's faint whimper now. She supported herself against the cupboard and tried to get up. She got halfway, then sat down, hard. The envelopes dropped to the floor. Nicky would fall asleep again.

A sister. A father. Her fingers outlined the letters of his name. Her stomach felt hollow, her head light. It was too much. She pushed the envelopes away.

Andreas. He'd never been angry with her. Not really. Nervous and short sometimes, but that was about stress and work. This was different. She remembered the times he'd defended her against the taunts of the other kids. “You don't even know what a bastard is,” Andreas would say to one of the bullies. “Look in the mirror.” She survived all of it because of him.

Andreas had said, “You are stronger than I could ever be,” just before she left the village for university. “I will suffer without you.” When she told her mother she didn't want to go, Dimitria said, “You must always be able to take care of yourself. You can do that with an education. Rely on no one but yourself.” Her mother had always had so much pride. What good had it done them?

Why had Alexia lied to her? Another stupid question. She was like some of those other kids Theodora knew in school. The ones who told her how much they liked her outfit or her hair. Then she'd overhear them in the bathroom, “And can you believe it? She really thought I was serious.” They'd laugh. “Once a stupid bastard…” She never told her mother any of this.

Theodora thumped her head against the cupboard. Alexia had seemed different. She had. “I don't do a thing without assessing every angle,” Alexia said to Theodora. It was so obvious. Theodora saw it in the way Alexia discussed every choice on the menu or the best spot to sit on the beach. Alexia was a strong, powerful woman who worried about every decision. It couldn't have been easy for her to carry out their father's wishes. Father. My father. She reached for one of the envelopes, sniffed it. The scent was of paper that had sat in the drawer of an old desk for too long. She stroked the sealed flap.

She got up, picked up each envelope, then put them back in the bag.

Theodora bathed Nicky in preparation for the Saturday night Easter service at the church.

“Papa?” Nicky asked. He navigated his toy ship through the bath water.

She shook her head. “He'll be home soon.” She hoped it was true. Her hand quivered as she finished rinsing his back. She ran her fingers through his wet hair. She pulled him out of the tub, draped the towel over his shoulders, put on a diaper and helped him into a clean pair of trousers and the new shirt she'd bought him for Easter. She heard the back door jar open. “Thank God,” she said. “Thank God.” Nicky put his hands on her cheeks and made her look at him. She nodded. Did he know how worried she was? What was he trying to tell her?

Nicky toddled into his room.

She walked slowly down the stairs.

She stood at the entrance to the kitchen. Andreas sat at the table, his back turned away from her. His hair grazed the collar of his shirt. He had to make time for a haircut. Why was she thinking about that now? They had so much to discuss. He might never let her tell him what he should do again.

“You had an eventful day.” He sighed.

Her heart beat in her ears. She had to make him see. Find the right words.

“What do you think about this business?” he asked. His large hands were laced in front of him, his back stiff like a frustrated teacher waiting for a student to give him the right answer.

“I want to get to know her,” she said. “I want to know everything.”