Good Greek Girls Don't

by Georgia Tsialtas

  ‘Des, your phone.’

  ‘Who is it, Rick?’ This is a girlie night. I don’t want interruptions. And it better not be my mother with another idea for the wedding.

  ‘It’s not your mother. Relax.’

  She knows me so well.

  ‘It’s Chris.’

  I think I’ll take this call in Ricki’s room. Given the mood that Effie and Katerina are in, they’d start making kissy kissy noises in the background if I tried to talk to Chris out here in the living area.

  ‘Hi babe.’ Ah, he still makes my heart flutter. Corny as it might be, every time I hear Chris’s voice on the phone when we’ve been apart for a while, it feels like magic, like there are fireworks going off in my heart.

  ‘Hey beautiful lady.’

  And he always knows just what to say.

  ‘You coming over tonight?’

  I think I better bail on Chris tonight. Something is going on with Ricki and I have to find out what it is.

  ‘I think I’ll manage to kick Evan and the boys out at a decent hour.’

  Yeah, right! They’re watching the soccer and having a PlayStation marathon. I’d probably walk in on the third pizza delivery and they’d still be going strong.

  ‘I might stay up here tonight, hon. Something’s up with Ricki and Ari.’ Actually, Ari is at Chris’s place and is going back to his parents’ tonight. I wonder. ‘Has Ari said anything to you?’

  ‘Don’t meddle, Des.’

  I don’t like that warning tone from Chris. He knows something and he hasn’t told me.

  ‘I’m not meddling. I just want to make sure that my best friend is okay. That’s what best friends do.’ And we also destroy guys that hurt our best friends. ‘He’s said something to you, hasn’t he?’ It’s a proven fact that men gossip just as much as women do. Men are just sneakier about it. ‘He’s not planning on breaking up with her, is he?’ He wouldn’t do that after all this time would he? What a prick. Practically living with her for all this time and now breaking up with her.

  ‘You always jump to the worst and wrong conclusions, Desi.’

  Oh my God! This is fantastic. ‘He’s going to ask Ricki to marry him, isn’t he?’ This is so exciting! I wonder if Ricki has any idea she’s going to be returning to Melbourne an engaged woman?

  ‘Desi, you keep your mouth shut!’

  What does he think I’m going to do? Announce it to the whole neighbourhood in Ocean Grove? I can keep a secret. Most of the time, anyway. I hope he’s planning on asking her soon. I could burst trying to keep this inside!

  ‘And seeing that you’re staying at Ricki’s tonight, you can do Ari a favour.’

  Sneaky shits, they were banking on the fact that wine would be drunk and I would have to spend the night here. They predicted Ricki would need me.

  ‘Get Ricki out of the house after lunch tomorrow and text Ari when you’re out of there.’

  I think I’d better talk to Ari just to be sure that Chris is not making this up. This is fantastic. But if I am going to go through all this effort of helping him with this little plan, I better be their first and only choice for koumbara. I mean, who else could they possibly choose to do the honours at their wedding?

  I can do this. I can sit here with the girls and pretend that there is nothing going on. I can keep my mouth shut. God, this is painful. How the hell am I supposed to keep this up until tomorrow when the first five minutes have proven to be so torturous? Do Chris and Ari have any idea what position they’ve put me in? Why did Chris have to open his big fat mouth to me? I’m going to explode if I can’t tell someone soon! They should known me better than to give me this sort of information.

  ‘Earth to Desi. Hello?’

  I wish I wasn’t on this earth at this moment. I have to sit on this little secret all night and all day tomorrow. I need someone to gag me.

  ‘What!’ I don’t need the temptation of opening my mouth. It just makes it all the more easier for this secret to come tumbling out.

  ‘Kati and I are going.’

  Oh, yeah, Effie has to drive Kati home. The mothers of our little quartet have child-imposed curfews. That means it’s just going to be Ricki, my secret and me.

  ‘Are you coming?’

  As much as I would love to get out of here tonight I can’t. I’m stuck here.

  ‘I think I might crash here tonight. You don’t mind, do you, Ricki?’ Maybe she’ll tell me that she has plans and she wants me to get my butt out of here.

  ‘Cool. Got a couple more bottles of wine in the fridge.’

  God help me, if she gets me drunk we are in a shit load of trouble.

  ‘Hey Des?’

  One bottle of wine down, on top of the two that we shared with Effie and Kati and I’m feeling slightly tipsy.

  ‘Do you think something is up with Ari?’

  Why did she have to start this conversation so soon? Why couldn’t she wait till I had passed out?

  ‘Something’s wrong and he’s not telling me what it is.’

  ‘You’re just being paranoid, Rick.’ I can say no more without letting the cat out of the bag. ‘What could possibly be wrong?’

  ‘I don’t know, Des. He’s just been weird lately.’

  I better be the supporting best friend and convince her that there is no crisis here. At the same time I have to make sure I don’t tell her what her beloved is really planning. This is all too much work.

  ‘And he’s going home to his parents tonight. He never does that. He always comes back here on the weekend.’

  Oh, God, she’s so stressed out. How can I ease her stress without telling her what’s going on? There is too much pressure on my brain.

  ‘He probably just wanted to let us have our girlie night.’ Plausible. Believable. I hope Ricki buys it. But the way she’s shaking her head tells me that this is not an acceptable explanation for her.

  ‘And last night he didn’t get back here until after ten. When I asked him where he was he told me he got caught up at work and had to stay back.’

  Again, that’s not acceptable to her. He was probably out buying an engagement ring.

  ‘He never works back that late, and I called the office at eight and he wasn’t there.’

  I think Ricki and I have been hanging around together for too long. My neurosis is rubbing off on her.

  ‘Rick, it’s probably nothing. He’s probably just busy at work and can get there faster from his parents’ place.’

  ‘Tomorrow’s Sunday. He’s not going to work tomorrow.’

  ‘Ricki, trust me, everything is going to be fine. Just have a little faith.’ I sound like a really bad eighties love song. I think I might have had a tad too much to drink. I think I should go to bed before anything else is said tonight.

  ‘What if he’s met someone else? What if he doesn’t love me anymore?’

  She’s more pathetic than me when she’s drunk. I am so going to rub tonight in her face after Ari pops the question.

  ‘He hasn’t met anyone else. He loves you like crazy. Everything will make sense tomorrow.’ Whoops, I think I’ve said too much.

  ‘Why?’

  I’ve definitely said too much. It’s all Chris’s fault; he should never have told me what Ari is planning. I’m sorry, but a girl’s night, best friends, plenty of wine … what was he thinking?

  ‘What’s happening tomorrow, Des? Why will it all make sense?’

  I better do some major saving here. ‘Honey, all I mean is that tomorrow you’ll be sober and we’ll go out for coffee and some shopping and we’ll work it out.’ Sounds good, sounds like a plan. Why is Ricki shaking her head? What the hell is she up to?

  ‘I’m going to drive to his mum’s place …’

  Oh, God, she’s crying. She’s had way too much to drink.

  ‘And if he’s not there … if he’s not there …’

  ‘Honey, he’s still at Chris’s place. They’ll be going all night with pizza and PlayStation.’

  ‘Then I’m going
to Chris’s house. And you have to come with me.’

  ‘We’re not going anywhere. He has not found someone else. He is not dumping you. Everything will make sense tomorrow. Don’t you trust me, Rick?’

  ‘Of course I do. You know what’s going on, don’t you?’

  ‘No.’ God I can’t look at her.

  ‘Bullshit. You can never look me in the eye when you try to lie to me.’

  Fuck. At this moment in time, I hate the fact that she knows me so well. I may not be off-my-face drunk but I know that I’m drunk enough to not be able to string together a decent lie.

  ‘Ricki, if everything isn’t okay by tomorrow night, I promise, I will come with you so we can totally rip the shit out of Ari, key his car, deflate his soccer ball and anything else you want to do.’ Ari better not screw this up. ‘Now, will you please go to bed and sleep it off?’ If she keeps this up much longer I will spill the beans just so I can shut her up.

  ‘Promise you’ll help me tomorrow then. Promise you’ll help me track him down so I can find out what is going on?’

  ‘Honey, tomorrow we’ll go out for lunch and do some shopping, and if you still need to track him down after that then I will be right there beside you.’

  And if I have to keep this promise I will rip Ari’s lungs out through his nostrils.

  ----------28----------

  Two weeks to go. I can’t believe that there are only two weeks to go. I have to get through the kitchen tea this afternoon and then Ricki, Effie, Katerina and I take off for our girlie weekend away – Saturday night right through to Tuesday. I can’t believe that Kati and Effie managed it. Part of me was hoping that some domestic dramas would stop them from being able to get away because God knows what they have planned for me. At least I managed to convince them to keep it small and intimate. The last thing I want is a hen’s night full of cousins that I only see when there’s an occasion. But there was just no way to escape a kitchen tea with all the female members of my clan and Chris’s clan. I had no idea there were so many of them. When Ricki showed me the guest list I almost had a heart attack. I just couldn’t see how all these people would fit into my parents’ place. Funny how Dad didn’t need to be told twice that perhaps it would be a good idea for him to head to Uncle Yianni’s place to finish off those bathroom renovations that have been going on for a year. Where did Ricki find all these people? Chris’s mum must have given her a list of names that rivalled my mother’s. Throw in all the old friends that Ricki dug up and there will definitely not be enough chairs for everyone. I wonder just how many toasters I’ll get, or how many kettles I’ll have to return to Myer. The funny thing is that I really don’t need anything. Chris and I already have everything that we need at his place. This is all going to be such a waste unless someone comes up with something that original and unique that I won’t be tempted to exchange.

  I tried to explain to my mother that we would be better off having a bridal shower, but she just couldn’t understand the concept. No, no, no – a kitchen tea is traditional; this is what all girls have before they get married. So poor Ricki got stuck with organising everything and I am sure that she will extract sweet revenge when it is time for me to organise hers.

  That’s right – Ricki’s engaged! It all went off without a hitch. I got her out of the house for lunch and shopping, and when I dropped her off afterwards, Ari was waiting inside with all of Ricki’s favourite afternoon tea treats and her engagement ring was sitting on top of a white chocolate and raspberry muffin – her favourite secret afternoon indulgence. Boy, was she embarrassed about her behaviour the night before! She tried to be angry with me for not preparing her better, but in the end, she and Ari still asked me to be their koumbara. I love that the Greek church doesn’t insist on only a traditional best man to do the honours. Besides, it’s fitting that I be their chosen one after all the effort I went through to make sure the engagement surprise worked!

  Part of me can’t believe it. The two most anti-Greek traditional girls are getting married and doing it all the traditional way we fought for so long. When the hell did we decide that what our parents wanted for us all along was ultimately the same thing that we wanted? It’s all just so perfect, so right. After all the crap that Ricki and I have been through together we’re now going through the most amazing, wonderful things together. We’ve both found our soul mates. Both of our dreams are coming true.

  Unfortunately, our dreams go hand-in-hand with silly traditions like kitchen tea parties. I can only imagine what sort of games they have planned for this afternoon. But if anyone dares to pull out a cucumber, I swear the festivities will come to an abrupt end.

  Chris has got it easy for this afternoon – a boys-only barbecue at his place, a game of beach soccer and probably a PlayStation marathon to finish it off. This whole pre-wedding thing is so unfair. Men get it easy, while the poor bride-to-be suffers quietly. Well, maybe not as quietly as my mother would like.

  Let the torture begin. I better behave myself. After all, my mother-in-law thinks I’m the best thing since sliced bread and I don’t want to change that perception. Not before the wedding anyway. Although, once I’ve got that ring on my finger then I might be able to let my guard down around her a bit.

  The mothers are here, the aunts are here, and dear cousin Helen is gushing about how she never thought that she would see the day and just how wonderful it is to finally see me ‘grow up and commit to something’. I wish I could commit her to something, like a mental institution. Oh, God. Sophia just arrived. Given how much she hates me, I don’t understand why she insists on showing up at every pre-wedding function I am obligated to invite her to. I didn’t make an appearance at half the things she had; let’s see, I had gastro for her engagement party, a weekend shift at work for her kitchen tea, a terrible migraine hit me a couple of hours before her hen’s night and, again, I had to work when she had the bed-making ceremony. I could have developed the plague if I had to.

  The only reason I can think of to explain Sophia’s continuing appearances is that she plans to ruin something. Doesn’t she realise that her powers of evil are useless? She can’t touch me anymore. Ever since our cousin’s engagement party when she finally admitted just how far she would go to one-up me, well, she kind of lost the battle then and there. Her desperation makes her someone to pity, not someone to fear. Besides, does she honestly think I would let her close enough to taint anything with her evil vibes?

  ‘Hi Sophia, how are you? So nice of you to make it.’ I can be so nice at times I make myself sick. But it would not do for me to make a spectacle of myself in front of my mother-in-law and Chris’s relatives. My relatives don’t count. They know I’m nuts. The others are still to discover that little pearler.

  ‘Well, had to get proof that this really is happening, didn’t I? Had to see for myself that there is a desperate dickhead out there who would marry you.’

  I want to slap her. And I almost do it. But she’s just too pathetic, and I am above it now. She can’t touch me, or my happiness.

  I speak quietly and steadily. ‘I think you should leave now, Sophia, and consider yourself and your sleazy husband uninvited to my wedding.’ I do not want this cow here, and I do not want her at my wedding. This is going to cause huge family problems (not to mention completely ruining my seating arrangements that took hours to put together) but right now I don’t care.

  Sophia is staring at me, incredulous that I would dare to break the code in the way that I just have. Greek weddings are not about inviting the people you love –they’re about inviting every Tom, Dick and Toula that you know or have ever met. To not invite, or to uninvite, a first cousin, is worse than taboo. It’s family feud-worthy. I think Sophia probably would have dealt with an actual slap in the face better than this. I’m about to get in big trouble with my family.

  ‘Despina!’

  Yiayia is standing behind me. Time to face the music. I’m about to get a verbal berating in Greek. But wait … she’s smiling –
with pride, it seems!

  ‘If Sophia have no good to say about you and your Chris, then she no come to wedding.’

  Oh my God! Yiayia is backing me up!

  ‘You leave now, Sophia.’

  And she’s ordering Sophia to get out of here! Her own granddaughter! This is a miracle. Sophia is clenching her thick sausage fingers and is as red as a tomato. But she’s retreating, she’s leaving. Door slams. She’s gone.

  ‘You no worry, my Despina. I talk to Sophia later. I tell her to be sick and stay home and no come your beautiful day. Mum and Maria not find out what happen today.’

  Fuck. Thia Maria is going to freak. Her daughter not coming to the wedding is going to kill her. The only way this is going to work is if Sophia goes along with Yiayia’s plan. But why would she? The bitch loves a drama and this is the best opportunity she’s had in ages to make me look bad.

  ‘Sophia is good girl, but she so sad, she make other people sad, too. This way, it show her. She learn.’

  I hope Yiayia is right. I hope Sophia will keep her damn mouth shut and stay the hell away from my wedding.

  This is torture. They want to play more games. God, Chris and I should have just eloped. Although it is extremely funny watching the oldies participate in the games. Even my beautiful grandmother has gotten in on the act. So far we’ve had to put on and tie the strings of an apron while tapping a stupid balloon in the air; we’ve had to do some weird things with clothes pegs and cotton balls. I wonder what’s next. Ricki is so going to pay for this. Payback is the ultimate bitch. And payback will come soon enough given that I will have the pleasure of organising her kitchen tea. There will be no escape.

  Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, it has. Pass the goddamn cucumber. That’s it! I am calling an end to the festivities! Besides, this has gone on long enough.

  ‘Ricki, can I talk to you in the kitchen please?’ I think my tone of voice says it all and off to the kitchen we trudge. ‘Get rid of everyone. Enough. I am not playing pass the fucking cucumber.’