Good Greek Girls Don't (23 page)

‘I can't divorce him. The kids need their father. And what would people say?' She sounds just like my mother. The one saying that I grew up with and hated with a passion was “what would people say”
?
Who the hell cares what everyone else says!

‘They'd say that I wasn't a good wife, that I couldn't keep my family together, that it was my fault that he went looking somewhere else. I'm not going to become a laughing stock. I'm not going to let all the cows out there have a good gossip at my expense.' I know where she is coming from. It's the same attitude that was shoved down my throat since before I could walk and talk. I know that marriage is supposed to be forever, but sometimes forever isn't as long as we dream it should be. Sometimes forever is a death sentence and we need to seek a pardon.

‘Fuck what the wogs would say, Ef. You can't stay with him while he screws around just so the rellos think that everything is perfect. You've got to stop caring about what they'll say and start caring about yourself.'

‘I can't, Desi. I'm not as strong as you are. You don't let anyone walk all over you. You've got brass balls, sis.

‘And who else would have me now anyway? I've got too much baggage.' Baggage. We all have it, one way or another. I thought Chris would walk away when he found out about my Denny baggage, but he didn't. Maybe Effie needs to know that even Desi the Great can have great moments of weakness.

‘I'm not as strong as you think. And I met Chris with a shitload of baggage, too. Remember when I was going out with Denny?' She's nodding. Of course she remembers. She loved to hang shit on me about the fact that I was with a bum from the bars. Maybe I should have paid more attention to what she said. ‘I stayed with him for too long thinking that he was probably as good as it gets and that I should be happy with what I had. I thought that I could make all of Mum's dreams come true by sticking it out with him. I thought that maybe he was all that I deserved, so I stayed throughout more crap than you can imagine.'

‘Come off, it Des, it's not the same. You could walk away when things got boring.' How shallow does she think that I am?

‘I didn't walk away because I got bored or because I got a better offer. I walked away because I got sick and tired of being treated like a punching bag. I didn't think I was strong enough to walk away from it all and I didn't think anyone would want me if they knew that I was a girl who'd stayed with a man who beat her up. But you know what? I was wrong. And I only realised that when I almost lost Chris. You can do it.' And I would help her in any way possible. Anything that Effie needed I would do for her. She's my big sister.

‘Oh, Des, why didn't you say anything?'

‘The same reasons you haven't said anything, until now. I knew that the folks would probably find some way to turn it around on me. Or I thought they would, but, hell, Mum is so different lately that she probably would understand if I told her now.

‘You know, after I left him I thought, that's it, I'm not destined to be happy. I didn't think I could trust a guy again, I didn't think I was the sort of person a guy could love. I didn't think I deserved to be happy.' I've never told anyone this stuff, not Ricki, not even Chris. This is sister stuff. ‘Then Chris came along. I almost blew it because of what Denny did to me. I was so ashamed and I didn't want Chris to know, but this shit has a way of coming out when you least expect it. Chris has stuck around despite my baggage, despite the fact that I'm a neurotic nut case. He loves me.'

I can't believe I am sitting here crying with my sister, that we are holding on to each other and not causing each other serious bodily harm. ‘You can move on, too, Effie. You can find the same happiness that I've got.' She certainly can't stay in a situation that causes her so much misery.

‘You really love him, don't you?' My nod tells her everything that she needs to know. ‘And he loves you?'

Simple nod again is all that is needed. ‘And he treats you well?'

‘Yeah, he treats me well.' He treats me wonderfully, he's everything to me. But somehow I don't think that's what Effie needs to hear at the moment.

‘I'm not as strong as you, Des. But I'll sort it out –one way or the other.' I guess I can't push Effie to do something that she's not ready to do.

‘Okay, well, if you need anything you know where to find me.' My sister is hugging me. I'm hugging my sister. This has got to be one for the record books.

‘What happen here?' Yiayia is standing in the doorway. Effie is trying to straighten herself up. She's just as surprised to see Yiayia there as me.

‘Nothing, Yiayia. Effie and I are just talking.' Why is Yiayia crossing herself as if a major miracle has just occurred?

‘Thank you, God, my girls like sisters. Very good.' And off she goes, still crossing herself and yelling to my mother to tell her the good news.

‘Let's get downstairs, Des, before Mum thinks we actually like each other. And I'll behave myself at lunch.'

‘Didn't doubt it for a minute, sis.' Oh, thank God. A food fight would not have been a very good look.

‘I really am happy for you, Des. He must be something if you're letting him anywhere near the house.' Not that Chris gave me a lot of choice in the matter. But that can wait for another day, another conversation.

‘Yeah, he's alright. A bit of a clean freak but I think I'll keep him around a little while longer.' I give her a wink.

‘Let's get ready for lunch. I think it's going to be fun watching him sit through Mum's Spanish Inquisition.'

But now trouble time has arrived. The serious stuff is about to begin. Question and answer. Mum just sent Effie's kids out to the backyard to play. She's satisfied that everyone has shoved enough food in their gobs and now she is ready to see if her potential future son-in-law lives up to all of her expectations. Let the games begin.

‘So, Chris, why you no live at home?' Now why couldn't my mother have started off with a simple question, like, how he plans to save the world from the apocalypse? No, not my mother. She has to go straight for the jugular. There is no right answer for this. My mother firmly believes that children should leave home in only two ways: married or dead, preferably married. Nothing else will do. To leave otherwise, single and of your own volition, must mean that there is something seriously wrong with the family unit.

‘Well, I moved into my apartment when my parents were in Greece a couple of years ago and we were renovating the house. Then I just kind of stayed after I had settled in.' Not a good answer. It's logical, it makes sense, it explains it all, yet it will not be good enough for my mother.

‘You poor mother. This break heart, no?'

‘Nah, Mum's cool. She understands that it's also closer to work for me.' Bingo. Better answer. Mum even understood why Ricki had to move out of home. Work is always a good answer – at least he's not a stay-at-home dole bludger who hangs at the bars all night because he doesn't have any purpose in his life. My baby is learning very quickly how to get my mother onside.

‘Still, no good. Children stay home till marry. That what I do.' Okay, so we are never going to reach an agreement on this one. I think Mum made that last comment more to herself than anyone else at the table.

‘Enough, Eleni.' Go Yiayia. ‘The boy no live at home. Big deal.' Mum must be ready to have a heart attack. ‘Can't have fun with mother and father in next room.' Okay, I don't think anyone was expecting that comment from my Yiayia but I think it's had the desired effect: Mum has been stunned into silence. I am so glad my Yiayia was here to share this, and if Poppy doesn't stop laughing she's going to go into labour right here at the dinner table.

‘Chris, you are not helping, okay.' We're in my bedroom, and he's rearranging my desk and papers. My filing system is not of paramount importance now. And it's a system that works for me. ‘Leave my papers alone. Fight the urge to file because I will not be able to make sense of it anyway, and help me figure out what the hell I am going to wear.' He is supposed to be helping me here.

‘Des, whatever you were will be fine. Come naked for God's sake. It won't matter.' I should just kill him now and spare myself. ‘When was the last time you opened your mail?' How the hell should I know? There's nothing important there anyway.

‘Chris, please focus!' I'm tearing my wardrobe apart and he's worried about my mail. ‘My mail is not important right now. What I wear is.' Black pants? Maybe I should wear a skirt? Not a mini, below the knee would be best. But that might make me look matronly. Body suit? Hell no, they're all low cut. Somehow I don't think emphasising my best feature is called for tonight. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.' I can't do this. I can't be sane throughout this whole ordeal. Why is Chris kissing my neck now? This is not what I wanted him to do when I told him to leave my filing alone. I do not need any loving right now. I need vodka. Or a sedative. ‘Stop it. This is not helping.'

‘Honey, wear the black pants you bought last week with a shirt. It's perfect, okay.' He has a point. Attractive yet not sexy. Feminine yet not prissy. Why the hell couldn't I have thought of that?

‘Honey, I think I'm having a heart attack. Hospital instead.' Why isn't he turning the car around? Why is Chris still driving towards his parents' place? Doesn't he care about my cardiac health?

‘You're not having a heart attack. You're panicking, and if you don't start breathing properly you're going to pass out.' Shut up. Just shut up. ‘That's a girl … breathe, cause blue isn't really your colour.'

‘Are you sure I look alright? Maybe I should have worn a skirt?' Maybe I should go home and change again. Chris will never go for that; there is no way that he's turning this car around and heading back to my place.