‘Desi …’
‘What’s going on, Effie?’
‘You still don’t get it, do you? They left you alone.
They let you do whatever you wanted. You wanted to study, you did. You wanted to work, you did. You wanted to go out and party, travel, anything, you did. Well, I didn’t get that freedom. They wanted this. The folks made this marriage happen. I didn’t want it at all, and now it’s too late.’
What the hell is she talking about? My folks tried to stop me every time I left the house. They didn’t let me do anything but I just did what I wanted anyway and, after a certain point, they gave up trying to turn me into the perfect daughter. They stopped trying to turn me into Effie.
‘Come off it, Ef.’ She’s controlled her crying and she hasn’t kicked me off the bed since I’ve sat down on the edge. This is progress. First my mother, then my sister. What is happening to my family? Next thing you know my father will actually give a shit about what’s going on in his children’s life instead of his vegetable garden. Nah, that’ll never happen.
‘You could have said no. Somewhere along the line you had a choice.’
‘Some choice! Our parents made this wedding happen. I thought after Andreas and I gave logies that something would snap inside me, that I would feel a connection with him or something. But I didn’t, and by then I couldn’t back out.’ Why the hell not? God, how many Greeks these days give logies and get engaged and never actually go through with it? Heaps. Our cousin John did the whole logies routine three times before he actually put a ring on someone’s finger. Why couldn’t Effie tell the folks that she didn’t love him?
‘I tried to tell Mum but she said that there was no way that I was going to embarrass them by breaking the engagement, that I was her daughter and that I had given my word. I wasn’t going to embarrass her in front of the whole community. So I married him.’ This still doesn’t explain what’s going on now. Why can’t Effie raise her own children? Why is her marriage falling apart now? Why all the secrecy between Mum and Effie? Effie obviously got over the fact that the folks forced this marriage because she and Mum have been thick as thieves for ages.
‘Ef, you could have said no but you didn’t. You didn’t have the guts to stand up to the folks so you took it out on me and Tas. You were miserable so you wanted to make us miserable. That’s not fair, Effie. We didn’t do anything to you.’ This is so weird. Effie and I have never ever talked like this. She’s never confided in me before.
‘I just didn’t want your happy lives shoved down my throat every time I was around.’
It’s still her own life. She should have stood up to the folks. Hell if Mum and Thia Maria had their way, I would have been married off by now and had about a million and one kids to show as well.
‘You and Tas were strong. You could stand up for yourselves and make the folks leave you alone. I didn’t have your strength. I still don’t.’
‘It wasn’t our fault, Effie’.
Her sobbing has subsided to a few sniffles. I think it’s time I approached the real issue now. ‘Where’s Andreas the Great?’ She can’t avoid the question now. She has to answer me. I think she’s too tired to argue with me now. I think she’s so deflated now that she will answer anything.
‘I don’t know. Probably with his girlfriend.’
Oh, shit. Suddenly everything is clear. This is the big secret that Effie and Mum have been keeping. This is why Effie needs help. This is why Effie has been getting away with so much lately. Why the hell does my sister put up with this bullshit?
‘How long has this been going on, Ef? How long has that bastard been sleeping around on you?’ Why doesn’t this surprise me at all? It’s probably not the first time he’s cheated on her, but I’ll bet it’s the first time that she’s known about it.
‘He’s had different women on and off since we got married.’ How can she be so casual about the whole thing? This is disgusting. If Chris ever cheated on me, I would chop his balls off and take them to Michael’s kebab shop so that we could get creative with them. ‘But I think this one is serious. He’s planning on going to Greece with her for a holiday.’ I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Is she going to just lie back and take this? Is Effie going to drive him to the airport also so he can hop on his Olympic Airline flight with some slut? And then is she going to go back to running the fish and chip shop like nothing has happened? I can’t believe that even Effie would be so weak as to put up with this sort of thing.
‘Leave him, Ef. You don’t need him in your life.’ It’s simple, she kicks him out of the house, files for divorce, keeps the house, they sell the shop and split the profits. She might even get more, given that she would have to raise four kids on her own. ‘Effie, with four kids we can take the miserable slimy bastard to the cleaners!’ Why is she shaking her head at me? Can’t she see that this is the best thing for everyone?
‘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.’
Oh, my poor baby. He’s eaten so much food because he’s afraid that he’s going to offend my mother if he doesn’t eat every morsel that’s placed in front of him. I can see him struggling with every bite. So far so good though. I haven’t had the uncontrollable desire to kill or permanently maim anyone, not even my mother, although she is trying my patience with her attempts to show off my domestic attributes. Thankfully, Chris already knows the truth about that. There is no way he will ever believe my mother’s fairytale of me preparing all of this lunch and how I am in my element when I am cooking and cleaning up for the masses. As if. Chris didn’t fall in love with Domestic Dora. He fell in love with Devil Desi and that is not going to change just because my mother lives in La La Land.
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.
Yippee! We survived! Mum actually gave up on interrogating Chris and let us relax after lunch. Chris and Dad even talked gardens and cars. I can’t believe Chris actually admired Dad’s wogmobile. God, please tell me he was just being nice.
‘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?
I think I’m dying. I can’t breathe. My chest hurts.
‘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.
‘Des, you look beautiful. You are beautiful and you’re going to be fine. We’re here.’ Holy shit! That drive was definitely not long enough. This time I really do think I am having a heart attack. My hands are sweaty, my heart is racing, I can’t f
eel my legs, me head is ready to explode. Maybe I’m having a stroke as well. Holy shit. No turning back now. Drastic measures needed now.
‘Please, God, just let them like me. They don’t have to love me or think that the sun shines out of my arse. Sorry, God, I know that’s not appropriate language. I know I have no right to ask you for this now; I mean, I only go to church when there is a wedding, funeral or baptism I can’t get out of, and the yearly Easter week, but I’m not a bad person. It’s just that church starts so early on a Sunday and, after all, you’re the one that said it’s our day of rest. But, God, please let this all be okay. I love him so much. Please don’t have given me Chris and made my life so much fuller and richer with him in it, only to take him away from me. Not even I deserve that punishment. I’ve been good; I’ve made peace with my mother and Effie – hell, I’ll even try to be nicer to lard arse Sophia if you just let me keep my Chris.’
‘What are you mumbling about there, Des?’ Can’t a person even pray these days without someone wanting to know what they are doing? How rude. ‘Time to go in, Des. We’ve been sitting here for ages.’ Okay, ready to face the music. It’s all up to you now, God. I am well and truly in your hands.
Piece of cake. I don’t know why Chris got so worked up about me meeting his parents. Everything went nice and smooth. They were lovely, and I think they liked me! Only problem was that they too had a barbecue. I never, ever, want to see another piece of meat again in my life – not a chop or a souvlaki on a stick or chicken wings or anything like that – ever, ever again. But being Greek and a vegetarian does not go hand in hand.
Despite the barbecue, having a meal with Chris’s parents was such a different experience to our lunch earlier in the day. Chris’s parents treated me as if I was someone who they’d known for ages coming over for dinner. It was casual, fun and just really easy. The best thing is that now I have a heap of ammunition on Chris! He won’t want to step out of line now, given that I have a photo of him at age thirteen, when most guys would rather chew glass, in traditional Greek clothing. Yep, my hunky man all dolled up in a tsolia’s dress, that skirt and stockings that our ancient warriors used to wear. He looked so cute, though.
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