Good Greek Girls Don't (25 page)

Read Good Greek Girls Don't Online

Authors: Georgia Tsialtas

Tags: #Fiction

‘Thank you, Despina. You next, eh?' Hello Chris. How you?' Well, who the hell needs introductions when my mother has been flapping her gums? The nerve of my aunty, wishing me my own wedding. I know it's a standard thing with all wogs to wish all singles to be married soon, but does she have to be so blatantly obvious in front of Chris?

‘Good thanks. Thank you for inviting me. Congratulations for your children.' Great, Chris the sweet talker is at it again. Does he have to be so nice to everyone he meets? He makes me look bad.

‘Lovely, lovely. Very nice.' What the hell is Thia Aspasia talking about? If she wasn't my dad's sister I'd be seriously pissed off by now. ‘You two sit with other children, eh.' Oh, great, she's going to hug me, she's going to whisper something in my ear. I hope she's waxed her chin. ‘Bravo, Desi mou, bravo!'

I grab Chris. ‘Let's go sit down.' Let the torture begin. I can't believe how everyone is staring at us – as if the goddamn Queen of England walked in. Maybe I should start waving while I'm at it. Okay, safe, made it to the table without interruptions. Maybe we'll have a few minutes peace till someone snaps to attention.

‘Desi, how are you? Who's this?' Couldn't Helen let us sit down before starting the attack?

‘Hey Helen, this is Chris.' As if you didn't already know you sneaky witch. The gossip would have spread like wildfire as soon as Mum told Thia Aspasia that he was coming. I reckon the deaf priest in my grandmother's village in Greece knows about tonight.

‘Chris, this is my cousin Helen and her husband, George.' Quick shake of hands and we sit down. I wonder where Sophia and sleazy Spiro are? This party might turn out to be more fun that I thought. I haven't actually spoken to Sophia since her wedding. We've run into each other at family functions, but my dear cousin just couldn't bring herself to talk to me. Poor love hasn't looked too happy lately either. She's put on heaps more weight, and as soon as she and hubby enter a room he goes off in another direction and leaves his wife on her own, at the mercy of the rest of the women.

Helen is leaning in close to me. Great, she wants to share moments or something.

‘This must be serious, Des, you have never bought a guy with you to a family do. And he's a hottie.'

I can't deny that – my baby is a hottie. I can't help but feel a tinge of pride. And I suppose I understand everyone's excitement tonight. I've never taken a guy with me to anything like this before. I just wish that the whole clan didn't have to witness it. Deep down I know I'm worried for nothing. Hell, if meeting my family didn't send Chris running in the other direction, nothing will. He survived that, so we can survive tonight.

‘Whatever, Helen.' I have to be blasé about this whole thing; can't give them too much rope to hang me with. All the relatives are probably taking punts on how much time will pass before we are all together again celebrating my engagement. I am not going to comply. I will not give them the satisfaction. If Chris and I do decide to get married, the engagement will be just him and me. No families, no big thing involving the whole clan, most of which irritates me anyway. No big function just so I can show off to them that I finally landed someone. Tonight should be enough to satisfy their morbid need to see me paired off with a suitable guy. God, I can't believe I'm even thinking of the possibility of marriage.

‘Hey guys.' Tom to the rescue. Thank you little cousin of mine, rescuing me from the interrogation that I am sure Helen was about to subject me to. ‘How's it going?' One of the remaining singles.

‘Hey Tom. Have you met Desi's other half yet?'

It's going to be a very long night.

So far, so good. Chris has gotten on well with everyone here. He and Helen's husband have been having deep conversations about soccer and world politics. The introductions have even become easier. In fact, I think I have introduced Chris to just about everyone here. The look on Thia Maria's face was priceless – almost made the whole night worthwhile. Darling cousin Sophia finally showed up and barely grunted a hello and her sleazy Spiro said even less.

I think it might be safe to even have a dance with Chris. The main couple have had their spin around the dance floor, the parents are being introduced onto the dance floor so that they can show us all what a waltz is supposed to look like, and any minute now the DJ will say those infamous words,
‘
We want to see everyone on the dance floor, all you lovely couples out there.' So I think a dance is in order. I haven't been able to really hold Chris close to me all night and I need my fix. Bingo, there's the invitation for us all to join in. But maybe we should wait until a few more couples get up so that we're not so obvious.

‘Let's go dance, honey' Can't he wait just a little bit longer? There are only four couples on the dance floor. We're going to stick out like sore thumbs. ‘I haven't been able to hold you all night.' Okay, so we're on the same wavelength – that's good. ‘I want to hold you tight.' Okay, if he doesn't stop whispering in my ear like this, I'm going to pash him right here, right now. Better dance instead.

Everyone is staring at us. All eyes are on the new couple of the moment. I guess everyone got bored with Alex and his fiancé, as there is no challenge left there –they all know how that is going to end. Chris and I are the next ones that they are going to take a book out on. But I don't care. I'm dancing in Chris's arms. The rest of the clan can just stare as much as they want. I bet none of them feel as wonderful as I do right now, none of them feel the magic that I feel when I'm in my honey's arms. They can stare as much as they want.

‘You look fantastic, babe.' I feel fantastic. I feel on top of the world.

‘You don't look too bad yourself.' And he smells amazing. I could stay in this position all night.

‘Do you reckon they'll notice if we slip out for a while?' What is he suggesting? ‘You look good enough to eat.' Oh my God. I don't think so.

‘Behave yourself. Have you failed to notice that there are two hundred sets of eyes all watching us tonight?' Watching our every move, analysing how close we are on the dance floor, wondering how long it will be before they receive the next invitation with intertwined hearts. ‘They'll send out a search party if we disappear from their view for more than three minutes.'

‘Damn. I need more than three minutes for the things I want to do to you.'

Oh, Chris. Your timing is impeccable.

Thank God the music is changing to some oldies-style tunes. I think it's the tango. Our queue to sit down and let the oldies loose on the dance floor, and give me a chance to recompose myself.

Okay, we've all pigged out on the buffet table, had a good dance, done all the traditional dances, worked off all the food, and still no one has caused me to commit murder in public, although if looks could kill, I'd be six feet under given some of the daggers that Sophia is sending my way. What the hell is her problem anyway? She got her ‘paid for' husband – she got exactly what she wanted and deserved. I wish this night would end. I want to get back to Chris's place and continue our own private celebrations. It's ten-thirty, only a couple more hours to go. I hope.

‘So, Desi.' Oh, my goodness, Sophia has finally spoken. ‘How long have you and Chris been together?' Sophia is curious, is she? There's no harm in answering her question.

‘Six months. We got together just after your wedding.' Simple, this can't be turned around on me.

‘So how long is this one going to last?' Bitch. I'm going in for the kill now.

‘Let it go, sweetheart, it's not worth it.' Chris knows all about my history with Sophia, so if she thinks her snide little digs will cause me relationship problems, she's fooling herself.

‘Probably longer than your marriage, Soph.' Score one for Desi. The queen still reins supreme.

‘Just wondering whose man you'll go after when you get bored again.' That bitch. I never went after her sleazeball husband. He went after me, before he was even married. That bitch. She's going to pay for this.

‘You know, Sophia …' Ah-hah, Chris to the rescue! ‘Don't you think you should be wondering when your husband is going to stray again instead of worrying about me and Desi?' Go honey! I'm so glad he's here tonight. It's even better to see that he doesn't have to be nice to absolutely everyone that crosses his path.

‘Besides, Soph,' I can't let Chris do all my talking for me, ‘I prefer my men to have balls so I'd say your hubby's pretty safe given that you've got him strung up by his.'

I think I just went too far given the Sophia has run out of the reception at lightning speed. I'm surprised she can move that fast. Now that Sophia has caused a big scene, I've got no other option than to try and fix it. Why, after all these years, has my brain not caught up with the rest of me? Why do I always act first and think later? Especially given that I know it will end in disaster. I'm an idiot; there is just no other explanation for it. I just should have left it alone, but, no, I had to open my mouth after Chris has said more than enough. Why the hell do I let Sophia get to me so much? Why do I play straight into her hands? She set me up; she wanted a reaction and she got it. I just don't think she was banking on it being as severe as it was. I better find her and fix this before it all goes to custard. I know what I have to do but it does not mean that I have to like it.

I know exactly where to find Sophia, even though she thinks I don't know her little secret. She is so predictable. She's in the alleyway behind the reception centre. As soon as she hears someone approaching she butts the cigarette out, hoping that no one saw it. As if they wouldn't be able to smell it anyway.

‘You didn't have to waste it, Soph.' I've known you smoke since we were fifteen.' I still can't figure out why I never used this little bit of information for my benefit. I have had so many opportunities. Probably because somehow she would have made it look like it was all my fault.

‘What do you want?' There is so much poison in her voice. I can't believe how much she hates me. ‘Come to gloat about your perfect life?' Since when do I have a perfect life? You know, she's not the first person to make that comment and it's getting pretty boring. And since when has Sophia not gotten everything that she has ever wanted?

‘Peace offering,' I say as I hold out my packet of cigarettes, inviting her to replace the one she lost when I snuck up on her. I can't believe she is hesitating about taking one. What? Does she think I've laced it with something?

‘Will you relax? I told you, Soph, I've known all along. You used to hide your smokes underneath a loose weatherboard behind your parents' bungalow.' I don't think I need to let her know that I used to help myself when I ran out of smokes and was desperate for a sneaky ciggie while I was suffering at her place. She finally relents and takes a smoke, lighting it up with a deep drag. I guess she feels pretty safe in the knowledge that I'm not going to run and tell her mother, given that I haven't in all these years. What would be the point now anyway? She's a married woman; she can do whatever the hell she wants and doesn't need her mother's permission.

‘So what do you want? Why aren't you inside basking in the glory of your perfect life?' She's starting to sound like a broken record. And just what do I hope to achieve by chasing her out here? A moratorium? A cease fire?

An artillery exchange program? We both have plenty of ammunition we can use.

‘Soph, I just want the bullshit to stop. I don't want to be friends …' That is just too scary to even contemplate, ‘… but I don't want to have to fight the urge to sidekick you to the head every time we are in the same room. No offence, but I'm over that shit.' And I'm not going to sit here and highlight to Sophia how my life has been far from perfect. Although I have to admit it's gotten pretty damn good since I met Chris. But Sophia has no right to begrudge me my happiness. I've earned it.

‘And I don't want to have to hear about what a success you are every time we're in the same room. All I fucking here is “Desi this, Desi that”. No offence, but I'm over that shit.'

Hello? My whole life all I've heard is how wonderful Sophia is; what a good girl she is; how she never causes her mother any heartache; how she's been a domestic goddess since she could bloody walk. Growing up, my mother constantly asked me why I couldn't be more like her.

‘Soph, you're dreaming.' That explains it. Or she's delusional. ‘All I ever hear is why I can't be more like you. So if anyone should be upset, it should be me.'

Oh my God, the light has gone on and there is finally someone home upstairs. I get it now. Sophia must have copped the same shit that I did but in reverse. Our mothers have a lot of explaining to do.

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