“It seems that our luggage did not make it, darling,” he informed her. “It’ll probably be here with the next flight.”
“Oh dear,” I exclaimed. “You poor things!”
Amelie pulled a face. “I suspected that would happen. Our flight from Tel Aviv arrived late in Athens and we nearly missed the onward flight to Santorini. Oh well, never mind, as long as we get our clothes in time for the wedding ceremony tomorrow morning! I’ve had a new dress made especially for the occasion!”
“And if not, you can wear what you are wearing now!” Hugo remarked.
I shook my head pitifully. “Men! They really haven’t got a clue sometimes. Listen, I have two dresses with me - even a new one, unworn - so if you have a problem...” I rummaged in my bag, found my business cards and gave one to her. “Call me.”
Amelie took the card, looked at it and raised her head in surprise when she understood. “Wow! That’s so amazing!”
I waved my hand. “I just thought, I can imagine you may want to wear something different tomorrow if your luggage does not arrive in time. So the offer stands, anytime.”
Amelie gave me a spontaneous hug. “Thank you! We’ll first wait and see whether we’ll get our suitcases later. If not I may take you up on your offer.”
I hugged her back. “Absolutely, please do - it really isn’t a problem! See you later then, and good luck.”
We said good-bye. Hugo and I found a taxi outside the terminal building and asked the driver to drive us to the hotel I had booked. Fortunately Jana had also found and brought the email confirmation for that booking.
* * *
We drove through the somewhat desolate island scenery. I wound down the window and let the mild evening breeze blow into my face.
“Mucho caldo here, ya?” Hugo asked the driver.
I rolled my eyes. His foreign language skills had not really improved much in the last two years we had been together.
“That wasn’t anything like Greek. Try English,” I suggested.
“Yes, very hot, but in summer very windy,” the driver replied after Hugo’s second attempt. “You come for holiday?”
“Angel, how do you say wedding in Greek?” he turned to me.
“Gamos,” I mumbled. It was about the only Greek word I knew apart from moussaka and yamas. Who had not seen the movie My Big Fat Greek Wedding?
“Ah, yes. Yes, we came for a gambas!” he enthusiastically informed the driver.
“Well then ouopa!” I murmured.
After about twenty minutes’ drive during which Hugo happily chatted with the driver in Greenglish we arrived at our little hotel. It was situated directly at a steep cliff. The pool had a stunning view of the wide blue sea. Our room did not have any view at all and resembled a cave. I critically inspected the small bed, which seemed to have been carved out of a rock.
Hugo threw himself on the bed, taking up most of its space, yawned loudly and folded hands behind his head. “Finally, a bed!”
“I don’t know. Maybe we should ask for another room - it’s tiny!”
“I think it’s fine. Now come here, angel.”
I sat down beside him. “Oh well. I’m too tired anyway.”
He pulled me towards him. “Not too tired I hope.” He grinned mischievously. I withdrew my arm. I could not help but think of Lars and what had happened - what I had done - the night before.
“I still feel awful,” I said truthfully. “Perhaps I need some food. The man at reception recommended a restaurant next to the other hotel down the street.”
Hugo got up, stretching his body and yawning loudly. “Good idea! I’m bloody starving!”
“What a lovely way to put it. Anyway. Let’s just go.”
The restaurant was nearly empty. We took a table for four on the terrace by a low wall running along the pavement. I studied the menu the waiter had brought us. Fatty, savoury food was just what my hungover body needed now. And wine of course. We were about to call the waiter to order when I heard somebody call my name.
“Amelie! Tom!” I exclaimed when I recognised them. I waved them over. “What are you doing here?”
“We’re staying in the hotel that belongs to the restaurant,” Tom explained when they had reached us.
“I don’t believe it! What a coincidence! We’re staying in the hotel on the other side of the street - up that path over there. Were you going to have dinner? Then why don’t you join us?” I pointed at the two spare chairs.
“Great, with pleasure!” Amelie took the chair next to me. She took my left hand into hers and looked at me. “I believe somebody up there has listened to my prayers after all. I was going to call you but didn’t really dare to.”
I understood immediately and laughed. “The black or the green one?”
“I really don’t mind! Seriously, I’m just grateful for anything that doesn’t look like I’m coming straight from the beach!” She pulled at her sleeveless T-shirt.
“I think the green one will suit you better with your blonde hair and that gorgeous tan.”
“I will never forget this! This is so incredible!”
“What is incredible?” Tom asked.
“Chloé is going to lend me a brand new dress for tomorrow!”
“Oh, did your suitcases not arrive?” Hugo asked.
“I’m afraid not,” Tom replied. “We bought some shampoo and toothpaste in the supermarket but I’ll have to wear these trousers and this shirt again tomorrow. But I am so pleased that my wife has got something else to wear. That’s much more important!” He beamed at me.
“I have a white linen shirt you could wear,” Hugo offered. “It’s a casual collarless shirt but it could be your size.”
I had bought that Zara shirt for him. When he wore it he looked like David Beckham - it was a stark contrast to his fake designer shirts from Thailand.
Tom grabbed Hugo’s shoulder. “Man, that’s really super cool! Both of you are! This dinner is on us - I insist!” He waved the waiter and we ordered red wine and a large platter with Greek hors d’oevres.
I was relieved. Not only did I get out of being potentially interrogated by Hugo about the night before but I also had the pleasure of sharing dinner with Tom and Amelie and hearing their story. It turned out that she was a trained doctor, had a son from her first marriage whom she raised alone until she met and fell in love with Tom who was also divorced, but childless. Putting her son’s well-being first, she only completely let Tom into both their lives when one day her son asked Tom whether he would like to be his dad.
“And what did he say?” I asked Amelie.
“He first said he would have to think about it. Then after a while he said I have thought about it and yes, Nathan, it would be an honour to be your dad. It was months later when he finally asked me to marry him!” She laughed.
“Oh. How wonderful. I can empathise with this a little. I had my first daughter without the birth father being around and when she was about one year old, Jean - my French hopefully soon-to-be ex-husband - appeared in our lives and it was kind of love at first sight between them. In hindsight, I probably only married him because of their special relationship,” I concluded.
“It sounds like quite a story,” Amelie said.
“Yes, indeed it is. That’s why I’m currently not that keen on weddings.”
“I understand. But you do seem to have found a very nice man.” She pointed her chin at Hugo who was immerged in his conversation with Tom.
“Well, yes. But Hugo will want his own children one day. And I’m not sure I want to go through the whole baby thing again. I think I hoped that my children would be enough for him but I have realised that he does not regard them as his. And how can he - it’s a fact, they are not his children.” I swallowed hard. Speaking these words out loud felt like I
was betraying Noëlle und Marie.
“Sure, they are not, but I do think it is possible for a person to love a child as if it were his own. Tom does. And I would never be able to be with him if he didn’t. That may be too much to ask but my child is my biggest treasure and the most important thing in my life.” She shot a scrutinising glance at Hugo.
“I know exactly what you mean, I feel the same,” I hung my head, watching Hugo from lowered eyes.
Amelie took my hand. “Then maybe he is only your transitional man. But I would still give him a proper chance.”
At that moment Hugo looked at me across the table. “Everything alright, angel?” He smiled warmly.
“Uhm, yes, yes. Everythings alright.” I forced a cheerful smile but I felt like crying. Deep down I must have known it for a while. I thought of Lars. Of all people he was hardly a better alternative. That would mean that I eventually would have to face another break-up. Not even three years had passed since my separation from Jean. I obviously had no talent when it came to choosing men.
Amelie noticed that I had become very quiet. She squeezed my hand under the table. “I think we need another bottle of wine here,” she declared to Tom und Hugo. “We are dying of thirst!”
She turned to me with an encouraging smile. “Everything will be fine. I am sure of it!”
“I guess everything happens for a reason - like us meeting today.” I raised my glass, which had been refilled with red wine. “We should drink to that.”
Amelie imitated me, Hugo and Tom following her.
“To us!” Hugo exclaimed.
“To Alexia and Alex!” I corrected him. “It’s all about them this weekend!”
“To Alexia and Alex!” We all shouted at the same time and clinked our glasses.
* * *
The next day, the taxi drivers premonition came true: a strong wind blew through the alleys of Fira where the wedding took place. The short ceremony was held in a small church tucked away high above the old town. With Alex being a protestant and Alexia of orthodox faith, they had arranged for a German vicar and a Greek priest to conduct it together, with Alexia’s sister acting as an impromptu interpreter. This caused some amusement, in particular with those of the congregation who were bilingual, as it became apparent that each cleric was happily oblivious to what the other was saying in his language. Afterwards we all gathered outside. It was a mixed crowd - rotund Greek aunts with lace shawls, the black-clad colleagues from Alexia’s agency, German doctors and their wives. We were all to form a procession and to march along the stairs built into the steep cliff above the sea to the place where the reception would be held. Amelie was holding onto her long hair with both hands so as to keep it from flying loose in the strong wind.
“I feel like I’m going to take off in a minute!” she shouted at me, laughing.
“I’m the same - the wind is really pulling at my hair!” I had to shout, too, because the wind was howling in our ears.
“I don’t know about you but I need a drink after any wedding ceremony!”
We decided to walk ahead, right behind the bride and groom. Hugo dropped behind to chat with his doctor colleagues. He always did that at parties - often I would hardly see him all night.
We were the first guests to arrive at the party location. Handsome waiters holding trays with glasses filled with champagne greeted us by the entrance. I accepted the glass offered to me, quickly raised it by way of toast to Amelie and took a large sip.
“Ah! Now I’m much better! Come on, let’s speak to Alexia und Alex quickly before everyone else arrives!” We walked the few steps towards her.
“Sweetie! You look absolutely fabulous - congratulations!” I kissed Alexia on both cheeks.
She was wearing a classic white fitted wedding gown. Huge Jackie O. style sunglasses were stuck in her dark hair which had been tamed into a chignon. She looked like a mature Greek version of Grace Kelly.
“Thank you both - I am so happy you could all make it!”
“And this place is so cool!” Amelie said, hugging her carefully.
“It’s gorgeous!” I added. We looked around. Bar lounge music emerged from the loudspeakers. The large terrace offered an endless view over the blue sea. Beautiful young and tanned Greek waiters and waitresses dressed in white moved around, balancing silver trays with drinks and finger food. It was perfect.
Alexia seemed to read my mind. “Thank you, dear Chloé! It is only nearly perfect - this wind came up very suddenly as is typical for the meltemi winds. They can become very strong and sometimes last for days. Usually though they are expected later in the summer - in July or even August,” she explained.
I was always fascinated how Alexia managed to be a walking encyclopaedia and spoke with perfect diction, a hangover from her stint as a TV presenter. But she also had a comic side. “But by tonight, everything will be ouopa and we will have one big fat happy Greek wedding party!” She exclaimed with a playful Greek accent.
She was interrupted by Hugo and Tom who had arrived and came over to kiss the bride. I looked at Amelie whose hairdo had surrendered to the wind. She shrugged. “I probably look like Medusa now!” she laughed.
“Fine, I’ll let go of my hair as well!” I loosened my grip and my hair started to fly around my head. “Gosh, this is really getting too windy! But look, up there - it looks like that corner is more protected from the wind. Let’s get our men, some more drinks and go upstairs.” I pointed to a corner on the upper floor, which looked like a lounge area. Several people had already found shelter there.
“Good idea! Come on, guys!”
“You go along,” Hugo said. “I’m going to speak to Will and Alex about their new expansion plans. See you later, angel, have fun.” He gave me a quick kiss. Amelie, Tom and I walked up the stairs and settled down in the least windy zone for the remainder of the afternoon until it was time to leave to get ready for the evening party.
* * *
The sun had just set when I stepped out of our hotel room, having swapped my Valentino dress for the evening gown. It was even windier than in the afternoon. Hugo was waiting on a deckchair on the terrace by the illuminated pool, his head turned towards the sea. He looked very handsome in his tuxedo. When I approached him he turned his head. I stopped, stood and waited for him to say something.
“Uhm, I guess the taxi is waiting,” he said and got up.
I snorted, shook my head and walked past him. Not even an attempt of a compliment. Of course I didn’t dress up only or especially for him but that didn’t mean my boyfriend was excused from saying something nice - even if I had been somewhat distant over the last two days. But Hugo only gave after he had received. He would not think in a million years to make an effort for a woman. He was used to women throwing themselves on him. He told me once that he had never made a pass at a woman - allegedly because he was afraid to be rejected. So he would wait for a woman to approach him. It had always worked. Two years earlier he had only asked me out when he was sure that I wanted him to and would say yes.
At that time I had indeed made it quite obvious to him that I was interested. I soon realised that the balance of power in a relationship is defined at its very outset. Once we were together I felt I had to continue to take the lead, resulting in: a man who didn’t feel the need to conquer me or to grow for and with me - a man who made me feel that I was not worth making an effort for. This was not a desirable outcome.
5. Dazed and Confused
“So, how was that wedding in Greece?” Patricia asked me three days later.
We were having lunch at the sushi bar near the P&W offices. It was a welcome change to the usual tuna salad that I would eat at my desk whilst drafting or reviewing a legal document.
I thought of Hugo and hesitated. Then the memory of Amelie made me smile.
“Well. It was a lovely locatio
n and there were some fun people. In particular, I met a good friend of Alexia’s - her name is Amelie and she currently lives in Israel with her family. She’s really nice and clever. She has this amazing thick, waist-long hair - a natural blonde but the un-blondest woman I have ever met, if you know what I mean!”
“I think I do! She does sound nice. I bet it was a good party, too.”
“Yeah, it was. Although - the dinner had been planned to take place on this large terrace overlooking the sea, but then it got so windy in the evening that all the tables had to be moved inside which made it really cramped. Poor Alexia, she was rather distraught, as you can imagine! Everybody tried to cheer her up and distract her - it was nearly comical. The dancing still had to be outside, on the dance floor by the cocktail bar, so with the strong wind blowing, it was quite a challenge to dance - but kind of refreshing too. Here, Alexia sent me a photo this morning.”
I opened the attachment to Alexia’s email on my blackberry. It was a photo of Hugo and me - it showed me leaning with my back against the bar, arms and legs crossed, apparently watching the people on the dance floor. Hugo is seen standing next to me, putting his head on my shoulder.
Patricia examined the photo. “Very glamorous outfit, Miss Krakowski! And Hugo is really good-looking, isn’t he,” she stated. She pondered. “There’s something odd though - it looks like he is leaning on you, even though he is so tall.”
I followed her gaze and had an epiphany. “You’re so right. It’s quite symbolic - he is the one who always leans on me. And I am so tired of that. I don’t know what’s going to happen, Patricia, but things aren’t right. That’s for sure because...well...there’s this man I have known for ages...and something kind of happened just before we left for Greece.” I recounted the evening with Lars.
Patricia’s eyes grew bigger as she listened. When I had finished she laughed. “Chloé, you are hilarious!”
“I think I am just completely messed up! But I can tell you, it’s agony - feeling guilty towards Hugo, having these silly fantasies about Lars. I don’t really know what to think or what to do.”
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