by Gail Haris
Martha gasps. “Voula. V – V – oula.”
I grin and feign shock. “That’s not how I said it?”
Jimmy saunters toward me and smiles. “Koritsi mou.” He kisses me on the forehead and then turns to Voula. “I’m sorry. This is a bad time. Maybe you can come visit us again, or we all can go out for coffee some time. I did promise my koritsi here a night out.”
Martha rushes toward us and claps her hands. “Maybe Voula can join! She was so sweet to already invite Jo out.”
That’s not exactly how it played out…
“I’d love to!” Voula smiles widely at Jim.
Jim hesitates, and I can see the panic in his eyes. “Really, Jo and I need a night alone, just the two of us. I’m sure you understand. In fact, we need to get going.” Jimmy walks over a grabs a pair of shoes by the door and starts putting them on.
“Jimmy mou, where are you going? Voula just got here.” Martha then starts speaking quickly to Jimmy in Greek. Voula smirks at me. I stand up and walk over to Jimmy. I wrap my arms around his waist and kiss his neck.
“I’m ready when you are.”
Martha’s eyes go wide, while Voula crosses her arms and pouts. Jimmy places his arm around my waist and leads me toward the door. “We’ll be back later tonight, Ma.”
Jimmy drives us to an area of the island with lots of little restaurants and cafés by the water. He parks the car and we begin walking. He reaches for my hand, but I avoid his by crossing my arms as we walk. I’m still angry with him, and I want to stay that way. If I let my guard down and start believing in this fantasy, I’ll only get hurt again.
We walk by an ice cream shop, and Jim nods his head toward it. “Let’s get some.”
I never turn down ice cream, so I agree. Because—duh—it’s ice cream. The place is very modern and open. The room is bright colors with bright lights. A little Greek elderly man smiles at us. I read all the flavors and struggle to decide.
“You can choose more than one flavor.” Jim smiles.
“That’s true.” I decide on vanilla, pistachio, and lemon. Jim gets chocolate and butter pecan caramel.
We take our cups of ice cream and begin walking. Every now and then Jim reaches over and quickly swipes a bite from my ice cream. We come to an old wooden bridge that reminds me of a Venetian style. Jim stops in the center of the bridge and looks out into the blue water.
I lick my spoon and then pop my lips. “You’ve grown quiet.”
“I’m thinking,” Jim says while not looking at me.
“Well, that can’t be good.”
He gives a humorless chuckle. “Are you ever going to loosen your guard with me?”
“Nope.” I go back to focusing on my ice cream.
“You know I have a right to be angry as well. You didn’t even give me a chance to explain.”
With ice cream still in my mouth, I say, “I asked you twice what you did, and you never answered. I said I didn’t want a relationship with a pilot, and you remained quiet. Yet this is my fault?”
Jim takes a bite of his ice cream and continues to stare out into the water. People walk by us laughing, I can hear a soccer game on a television off in the distance at one of the cafés, and there’s the sound of waves. Jim finally turns to me. “I was scared you’d immediately reject me. I wanted a chance to prove myself, at least.”
“Prove what? We only had sex.”
“It wasn’t only sex. It started out that way…but you felt something. We both felt something. Either way, I just wanted a chance.”
“Well, you got it, and you blew it.”
“Yeah, I did, didn’t I?”
We go back to eating our ice cream and looking out over the water. Off in the distance, I see a cruise ship. I can’t help but wonder what stories are aboard that ship. Where is it going? Where has it been? How many couples are on board living their best lives?
“We are going to have to up our game.”
I’m not too thrilled by Jim’s tone. “What does that mean?”
“My mother is going to keep bringing women around. The whole point of you being here is for them to believe I’ve already found one.”
“Jim, she doesn’t like me. I think she’s going to keep on either way. Sorry, pal, but unless you get married, I doubt she’s going to stop. Even then it’s iffy.”
I immediately regret my words when I see the light bulb come on over Jim’s head. “Abso-fucking-lutely not. This isn’t Vegas! We aren’t getting married, you jerk. Aren’t people here more traditional? We might not even be able to get out of it.”
“Not married, Jo. Just engaged.” When I continue to stare at him, hoping he’ll crack a smile and say ‘kidding’, he only smiles wider. Then slowly, in the middle of the bridge, Jim gets down on one knee. He sits his cup of ice cream down next to him and takes my hand in between his sticky fingers.
“Jolene Tanner… Tannerelos,” I hate how my heart just skipped a beat, especially when he used that damn accent on my fake last name. “Will you do me the honor of being my fake fiancée for the next six days? Make me the happiest and luckiest Greek bastard… just for one week. Then you can break my heart and flee this land.”
A few people stop on the bridge and take their phones out. I hear the clicking of cameras and a few ‘awws’. The rest of what they say is in Greek, so I am sure they misunderstood him about the whole ‘fake’ part of it all. I force a smile and speak through gritted teeth, “Get. Up.”
“Not until you agree…” He turns his head as a cat wanders up and begins loudly licking at his ice cream. I can’t help but stare and giggle. Jim shoos the cat and then turns back to me. “Not until you agree to be my fake Greek bride.”
Smiling as sweetly as possible, I say, “But, darling, do you even have a ring? Do you honestly think they’ll believe it?”
“This is spontaneous, which makes it even more romantic. Or it would be if I didn’t have to explain it to you.” He kisses my knuckles and it causes my stomach to dip. With his lips barely above my skin, he looks up at me through those dark, long lashes, and in a low voice speaks. “I can’t promise you forever right now, but I will promise you the best damn six days.”
I turn over the hand he’s holding and take his chin between my fingers. I bend down and kiss him on the lips. The crowd cheers. I pull away and whisper, “Yes.”
Jim jumps up and lifts me in the air, spinning me around. I laugh and hold on to him. After he gently places me back down, he smiles to the crowd and we both offer a little wave.
“I’ll go buy you a ring right now.”
“You don’t have to buy me a ring.”
We pick up our ice cream bowls and take them to a trash can at the end of the bridge. Jim then takes my hand and practically drags me through people walking the streets.
“Where are we going?” I call out.
“You’re right. They won’t believe it without a ring.” He stops in front of a souvenir shop. “This will work.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“It’s after two. None of the jewelry shops are open in the middle of the day. These places stay open for tourists. Besides, you said I didn’t even have to get you a ring. Now you want to be picky?”
“You’re right. Why be picky now when I’m with you?” I brush past him and into the little shop. They have some very pretty jewelry that is supposedly crafted here in Greece and made from genuine stone.
“See one you like? I’ll purchase whatever your heart desires.”
I’m positive he has not seen some of these price tags. I smile and ask to see this ring that is two-toned metal, a silver band with a golden vine of leaves intertwining around the band. In the center is a sapphire.
The ring just so happens to fit perfectly. I show Jim and he smiles. “It seems like this is fate again.” He asks if this is the one, and I nod. He looks to the lady behind the counter and smiles. “We’ll take this one.”
“Very nice. That will be a thousand euros.”
Jim’s smug smile falters, but mine remains in place as he looks over at me. I saw the price tag and knew exactly how much. Jim extends his hand out and begins speaking in Greek to the lady. Her eyes widen and she giggles. They exchange a few words with amused identical expressions, and then he hands her some cash. Wait a minute…
She walks around the register and takes my face in hers. She kisses each side of my face and keeps speaking excitedly in Greek. Jim hugs her and then begins guiding me out the door.
“What the hell was that?” I ask as soon as we’re away from the store.
“I got us a discount.”
“Yeah, but how and why?”
“What do you mean how and why? No offense, but I wasn’t about to pay that for a ring that we don’t even know if it’ll turn your finger green. But I got us the ‘I’m Greek’ discount and ‘this is an engagement ring’ discount.”
We step back on the bridge and as we’re crossing I ask mimicking his accent, “What’s the I’m Greek discount?”
“Greek tourist places don’t charge their own people as much.”
When we’re back at the center of the bridge, Jim places a hand out and stops me from walking. He guides me to the side of the bridge and stands so close to me, his legs are on either side of mine. Taking the bag from my hand, he reaches in and removes the little ring box. He removes the ring and then tosses the box back in the bag. He takes my ring finger, and without breaking eye contact with me, he slowly slides the ring on.
“Can I at least kiss you?”
“Seems it would be the appropriate thing to do right now.”
“It does. It feels like the thing to do.”
“Then do it.” I raise my lips toward his.
Jim first kisses my finger adorned with the ring, and then his lips crash to mine. His tongue pushes against my lips and I part them, granting him further access. As his tongue slides against mine, I feel my knees becoming weak. He presses himself harder against me, and I feel his excitement.
“God, Jolene.” He leans his forehead against mine. “You taste so sweet.”
“It’s from the ice cream.” I breathe out.
We both chuckle as we hold onto each other. “Come on,” Jim laughs as he tugs my hand.
When we arrive to the house, there’s a group of people sitting in the living room. Martha smiles at us and proudly says, “I have some stuffed tomatoes fresh out of the oven in the kitchen.”
It’s almost nine at night. Everybody loves to eat late here. Instead of voicing that thought, I say “Thank you. Sounds delicious.”
I notice that Voula is still here, but instead of scowling at me, she’s giving a sour look to another stunning young woman. Said woman stands up and walks toward Jim with open arms. “Jimmy,” she coos with her seductive Greek accent. “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to wait all night for you.” Gag me.
“Eleni.” He smiles and lightly kisses her on each cheek. “So nice to see you.”
“You are certainly a nice sight to see. You’ve grown, in all the right places, over the years.” She squeezes his biceps. “It’s been too long,” she pouts.
I pull his arm to me and wedge myself between them. “A lot can change in that much time. I’m Jolene… his fiancée.”
A round of audible gasps are heard, along with what sounds like glass breaking in the kitchen.
Jolene
Dear Journal,
I’m engaged. Normally, I’d call my mother because this would make her year. Her only daughter won’t be an old maid forever. Unfortunately, since this is simply another lie to add to the web Jim and I are weaving, I’ll leave her out of this. We’re limiting our lying to only his side of the family. To celebrate our engagement, Jimmy decided to take me to Athens for the day and an overnight trip. The city is definitely crowded, and there’s so much to see and do. I was actually missing the charm of the spacious island and blue waters. Jim smiled at me and said he knew just the place to take me. If you ever visit Greece, I’d highly recommend where he took me: Sounio. It’s a little ways out of the city, and actually in a town called Attica, there at the southernmost tip of the peninsula in Cape Sounio is the Temple of Poseidon. The remaining white marble columns stand tall and elegant against the contrast of the blue ocean it’s perched above. The site takes my breath away. It’s peaceful to stand there high above the rest of the world and look out into the vast blue sea. Although Athena got the more elaborate temple with the Parthenon in the middle of the city of Athens, I find that Poseidon got the best view, by far. The sea surrounds the temple on three sides. Every time a light breeze would come, I could almost feel an energy there.
“Like this better?” Jim asked me.
“I’m honestly speechless. This is…incredible.”
“Huh. That’s funny.”
“Why?”
“Because I was just thinking the exact same thing, only it was about you.”
Whether he meant the words or not, my heart fluttered. I couldn’t be sure if it was the high altitude of where we are standing, or the smile he gave me, but I did begin to feel a little lightheaded.
“Dress a little fancy,” Jim calls out.
I wrap the towel around me, even though it’s nothing he hasn’t seen, touched, and … well, it’s nothing new to him, and open the bathroom door. “For what? Besides, I only brought one dress with me, so it’ll have to do.”
“I’m taking you somewhere nice tonight. We’re celebrating, after all.”
“Fake celebrating our fake engagement?”
Jim strolls up to me with one hand in his dress slacks pockets. The other hand reaches out and rips the towel from my body. He pulls me close to him. I try to wiggle free, “Let go. I’m getting you wet.”
“Hah, ain’t that the truth. Besides, that happened the moment you opened the door in nothing but a towel.”
“Ugh. You’re so immature and gross.”
“Possibly. Yet, here we are. You’re engaged to me, even. What were you thinking?”
“I ask myself that constantly. And, it’s fake. It’s based on a lie, just like this entire trip.”
“Tonight isn’t. Tonight, I’m taking you out to celebrate that I get to spend some of the best days of my life with the most incredible and gorgeous woman. That’s not a lie, Jo. Despite how we got here, let’s just be happy that we are here. Together.”
Well, how the hell do I respond to that? I lick my lips and his nostrils flare. He releases his hold on me and steps back. “Get dressed or we won’t make it.”
Jim takes me to a rooftop restaurant. We’re seated at the edge of the balcony with a clear view of the city of Athens and the Parthenon. We arrive just as the sun is getting ready to set. I smile as I take it all in, the ancient civilization and modern world all blended in the beauty and culture of Greece.
“Do you like it?”
I laugh at his ridiculous question. “How could I not?”
“Why is that so funny? Obviously, this is quite amazing, but so am I. And it’s obvious you don’t like me.”
No, Jim, far worse. I think I’m falling in love with you.
Jimmy
I’m literally smacked awake by a pillow. I open my eyes to find Yia-Yia standing over me with a frown. “It’s time for church. Don’t argue. We need a divine intervention in this family.” She shuffles out of the room and I can’t help but smile. Ma and Yia-Yia wasted no time in tearing into me when we got back from Athens last night. They’re convinced that being in a plane all the time with the high altitude has finally destroyed my brain.
I knock on Jolene’s bedroom door. She answers wearing only a towel—another damn towel—and I almost crumble to my knees. Yia-Yia walks by and shakes her head, mumbling in Greek and doing the cross-signing thing again. “Doesn’t she ever wear clothes? I see her naked butt more than I see my own.”
I have no response to that because the visual of my grandma’s naked butt is a total and complete cockblock.
“Um, we leave for church in ab
out an hour.” I try to focus on her eyes before I pitch a tent in my pants.
“Tell her to make sure she wears a dress or skirt!” My yia-yia yells out in Greek as she goes down the stairs. “And it better not be short. We don’t want her embarrassing the family any more than she already has.”
I smile at Jolene. “Women are expected to wear a dress or skirt. Modest length.”
Jolene raises her eyebrows. “Modest length.”
I nod. “Do you want me to sit in here while you try some on? I like to be helpful and available for comment and critique.”
Jolene shakes her head and slams the door in my face. Guess that was a no. I go downstairs to the kitchen where Yia-Yia and Ma are preparing food for lunch. They always prepare too much food, but there’s way more company than usual. Ma notices me staring and smiles. “The priest is coming over for lunch. I told him you were engaged, and he wants to bless the union.”
Yia-Yia mumbles something inaudible, so I don’t comment. The Greek churches have a lot of priests and sometimes we go to different ones. I’m curious to see which one Ma has been talking to.
“Which one?”
“Father Giorgos.”
“Oh, Ma…Father George? Really? Couldn’t you have invited Father Earl or Stanley?”
Ma walks up and pops me in the back of the head. “Don’t speak poorly of the priest. He is a man of God. Father Giorgos is a little old–”
“The man is senile and old as Moses.” I leap out of the way before she can come at me again. Yia-Yia laughs, clearly agreeing with me. She’s practically blind, but even she can see the man has a screw loose.
Yia-Yia starts mumbling something about a tight skirt, and I turn around to find Jolene. She’s wearing a long, fitted navy skirt with a white, long-sleeve button up. Her long, ebony hair is straight and smooth flowing down her back.
“I’ll have to wear the skirt from my uniform. I didn’t pack any long dresses or skirts,” she tells the room. “Will this be alright?”