Nicolai's Daughters

by Stella Leventoyannis Harvey

  “We’ll have some apricot juice. You can meet my mother-in-law.” She should have seen it in Alexia’s eyes. Perhaps she had, but she needed a break from Elena. She’d been at the house all afternoon. She could use a friend to share the misery.

  Alexia suggested they go into the other room to talk. “Or I could come back.”

  Elena pushed a chair toward Alexia, motioned for her to sit down. “I’ve heard about the Canadian friend for weeks. And now she wants to run away before I have the pleasure of meeting her.”

  Turning to grab some glasses from the cupboard, Theodora ignored Alexia’s helpless smile. “It’s okay. We can visit here,” she said into the cupboard. She couldn’t find the glasses she wanted. She stared at the dishes in front of her as if she had forgotten exactly what it was she was looking for.

  Alexia dropped her bag at the door. Theodora jumped. She stared at the dishes. Not this cupboard, she said to herself. She flicked the door closed, opened another one and found the glasses she wanted.

  Alexia came into the kitchen and sat down. Theodora filled the glasses and set them on the table. A few drops of juice spilled. She turned to grab a rag. “It’s nothing,” Alexia said. “Don’t worry.” She touched Theodora’s arm. Alexia’s hand comforted her.

  Theodora nodded. Elena sighed.

  Theodora handed Alexia a napkin, then passed one to Elena. In the middle of the table, Theodora put a plate of Easter cookies. She sat down beside Alexia. Elena sat opposite them, inscrutable.

  “They look delicious.” Alexia reached for a cookie. “I used to bake with my aunt. And my mom before that. I haven’t done it in so long,” Alexia said. “Maybe I should start again. Get some of your recipes.”

  “We are still in mourning. It is only Saturday. Christ rises tonight at midnight, not before,” Elena said. “But you’re not Greek. You can’t understand these things.” She choked out a laugh.

  “I am Greek.” Alexia put the cookie down on her napkin, wiped her fingers.

  “Then, your family should have taught you our ways.” Elena leaned and tapped the table with her index finger. “Yes or no?”

  God, why must she always be this way? Theodora wondered. Even with people she doesn’t know.

  “My father practised his religion,” Alexia said.

  “And you?”

  “Nothing was forced on me.” Alexia turned toward Theodora.

  Theodora smiled weakly.

  “Then I blame him for not teaching you correctly. Children are never at fault. They are innocent. What do they know?” She leaned back in her chair and picked up Nicky. He pushed at her, wriggling back to the floor. “We won’t have that happen with this one. I am here to make sure. He will understand our ways.”

  “Ella,” Theodora said. “She lives in Canada. She didn’t grow up here.”

  “Yes, of course.” Again, Elena tapped her finger against the table.

  Theodora poured each of them some more juice. The cookies lay untouched. They sipped in silence. “Did you go to church yesterday for Good Friday?” Theodora asked, clearing her throat.

  “Yes. I felt very small in all the tradition. It was very inspiring.”

  Elena nodded once as if in approval.

  Steel crashed against steel. Elena held her heart, shook her head. She picked Nicky up again. His cars fell, battering the floor. He screamed in protest, reached out to Theodora. “I will take him upstairs,” Elena said. “You visit.”

  “It’s okay, Nicky,” Theodora said. “Go with yiayia.”

  Elena disappeared with Nicky upstairs.

  “I came to talk to you,” Alexia said.

  Theodora put her finger to her mouth. She stood up and went to the stairs. She heard Elena in Nicky’s room.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, sitting down at the table beside Alexia.

  Alexia moved her chair closer. “I haven’t told you the truth.”

  Theodora watched Alexia’s face.

  “I came to Greece to find you. It was my father’s last wish.”

  “I don’t understand. Why?”

  “My father is your father. Your mother and my father were together. I don’t know how else to say it. When he was in Greece. After my mother died.”

  She’s staring at me, Theodora thought, saying things I don’t understand. Why is she doing this? She couldn’t look at Alexia anymore. Theodora stared at the half-empty glass of apricot juice in front of her. An orange film was drying, crusting. She couldn’t see through the glass.

  “The bag is for you. It’s full of letters he wrote to you.”

  What bag? she wondered. She looked around, saw it sitting by the kitchen door. Confirmation of everything all the kids she grew up with used to say about her, about her mother. This can’t be, Theodora thought. More shame. Even now.

  She closed her eyes tight. She couldn’t bring more shame on her family. I’ve done enough to embarrass Andreas. And he’d always protected her.

  Theodora felt Alexia’s hand on her arm. She stood up, grabbed the chair and tried to push it towards the table. It wouldn’t fit back into place.

  She heard someone on the stairs. Theodora rolled her eyes.

  Elena came into the kitchen, seized her purse from the counter. She quickly walked towards the door without looking at either Theodora or Alexia. “He’s down for his nap. I will go now.”

  “Elena, please,” Theodora said, trying to stay calm, not plead.

  Elena turned.

  “Stay,” Alexia said. “I interrupted your visit. It was a pleasure to meet you, Elena. I really must go.”

  “Come to Diakofto for Easter, tomorrow,” Alexia said. “Meet us all.” She squeezed Theodora’s hand, smiled and left.

  Is she oblivious to what she’s done? Theodora wondered. She stood still, watching Elena. Could she convince Elena to keep this quiet? She needed to make sense of it herself first. Then she’d find a way to tell Andreas.

  “She could have waited until after Easter,” Elena said. She checked her lipstick in the compact mirror she always carried. The lines around her mouth released into a sly smile. She snapped the compact shut, threw it back in her purse. “I have things to do now,” Elena said. She left brusquely, as if leaving a shop where the clerk was a stranger, one who tried to cheat her.

  Theodora couldn’t feel the legs beneath her. She held onto the counter. Elena would be off to the butcher shop, busy with Easter shoppers. She’d drag Andreas to the back of the shop. The sound of the freezers would mask her words, meant only for him. “I warned you about her.” She would stand in front of him, her hand cuffing his wrist, making sure he didn’t move. She’d make him hear the whole story. He’d bow his head. She’d put a hand to his cheek, so he looked at her. “There is no end to the trouble she causes,” Elena would whisper. “Of course it’s not her fault. It’s her mother’s, but what can we do now? I probably shouldn’t tell you, but you’re my son. I only want the best for you. This is my only reason. I can’t watch you make one mistake after another.”

  In her rush, Elena had left the door ajar. Theodora shut it and saw the bag Alexia had left. She stood away from it, as if getting closer would burn her. Her breath came in short bursts. She had to calm herself down, think about what to do. Think. She took a deep breath, then another. Finally, she grabbed the bag and slid down against the cupboard. Maybe the answers were in these envelopes.

  Theodora heard Nicky’s faint whimper now. She supported herself against the cupboard and tried to get up. She got halfway, then sat down, hard. The envelopes dropped to the floor. Nicky would fall asleep again.

  A sister. A father. Her fingers outlined the letters of his name. Her stomach felt hollow, her head light. It was too much. She pushed the envelopes away.

  Andreas. He’d never been angry with her. Not really. Nervous and short sometimes, but that was about stress and work. This was different. She remembered the times he’d defended her against the taunts of the other kids. “You don’t even know what a bastard is,”
Andreas would say to one of the bullies. “Look in the mirror.” She survived all of it because of him.

  Andreas had said, “You are stronger than I could ever be,” just before she left the village for university. “I will suffer without you.” When she told her mother she didn’t want to go, Dimitria said, “You must always be able to take care of yourself. You can do that with an education. Rely on no one but yourself.” Her mother had always had so much pride. What good had it done them?

  Why had Alexia lied to her? Another stupid question. She was like some of those other kids Theodora knew in school. The ones who told her how much they liked her outfit or her hair. Then she’d overhear them in the bathroom, “And can you believe it? She really thought I was serious.” They’d laugh. “Once a stupid bastard…” She never told her mother any of this.

  Theodora thumped her head against the cupboard. Alexia had seemed different. She had. “I don’t do a thing without assessing every angle,” Alexia said to Theodora. It was so obvious. Theodora saw it in the way Alexia discussed every choice on the menu or the best spot to sit on the beach. Alexia was a strong, powerful woman who worried about every decision. It couldn’t have been easy for her to carry out their father’s wishes. Father. My father. She reached for one of the envelopes, sniffed it. The scent was of paper that had sat in the drawer of an old desk for too long. She stroked the sealed flap.

  She got up, picked up each envelope, then put them back in the bag.

  Theodora bathed Nicky in preparation for the Saturday night Easter service at the church.

  “Papa?” Nicky asked. He navigated his toy ship through the bath water.

  She shook her head. “He’ll be home soon.” She hoped it was true. Her hand quivered as she finished rinsing his back. She ran her fingers through his wet hair. She pulled him out of the tub, draped the towel over his shoulders, put on a diaper and helped him into a clean pair of trousers and the new shirt she’d bought him for Easter. She heard the back door jar open. “Thank God,” she said. “Thank God.” Nicky put his hands on her cheeks and made her look at him. She nodded. Did he know how worried she was? What was he trying to tell her?

  Nicky toddled into his room.

  She walked slowly down the stairs.

  She stood at the entrance to the kitchen. Andreas sat at the table, his back turned away from her. His hair grazed the collar of his shirt. He had to make time for a haircut. Why was she thinking about that now? They had so much to discuss. He might never let her tell him what he should do again.

  “You had an eventful day.” He sighed.

  Her heart beat in her ears. She had to make him see. Find the right words.

  “What do you think about this business?” he asked. His large hands were laced in front of him, his back stiff like a frustrated teacher waiting for a student to give him the right answer.

  “I want to get to know her,” she said. “I want to know everything.”

  He stood up, turned to face her. His broad shoulders were slightly bent. He had bags under his eyes. His apron was spotted as always. “You didn’t know about any of this,” he said. “No matter what my mother says, I know that.”

  Where was he going with this? Theodora wondered.

  “I have something to tell you too. And it won’t make you happy either,” he said and put his hands in his pockets, stood away.

  Theodora took a deep breath. He’s going to leave me.

  “When my mother came to see me today, I knew I had to tell you. I can’t keep doing this anymore. Being angry and worried.”

  “I understand,” Theodora said. What else was there to say? She couldn’t force him to stay.

  “I can’t keep this secret any longer,” Andreas said. “I borrowed money from my mother to open the shop. Many years now. I wanted to tell you. I couldn’t worry you. My feet were outside the blanket for so long. I promised you I would never do that. I exposed us financially. So you’re not the only one with a secret. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything. I want to put these secrets behind us. Do this for me. Okay?”

  She nodded. Or at least she thought she had. She couldn’t move.

  “All I ever wanted to do was make you happy,” he said.

  In the church in Aigio, Andreas kissed Theodora before taking Nicky to sit on the men’s side. Theodora went to where the other women were. She sat beside one of her sisters-in-law. When she saw Theodora, Elena turned to talk to a woman who sat behind her in the pews. Theodora listened to the priests chanting, ignored Elena’s whispers. She looked around and found Andreas. He smiled and winked when she caught his eye.

  The parishioners emptied out into the street behind the priest. The night was crisp and clear. It was a few minutes past midnight. The streetlights were off. The crowd formed a circle around the main stage, remaining quiet as the priest climbed the four short steps.

  “Christos Anesti,” the priest announced, lighting the first candle. He turned and lit the candle of the person standing beside him. The flame was passed from one person to the next in the same way.

  Theodora kissed Andreas. “Xronia polla,” she said.

  “For both of us,” he said. “Many, many years.”

  She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them again. She’d done the same thing when they were children, to thank him, reassure him, show him how she felt. They each kissed Nicky. First his forehead, then his cheeks, then behind his neck. He giggled, pushing them away.

  They stood around shaking their neighbours’ hands. Elena was to one side. Theodora saw her. She went to Elena, hugged her and kissed her cheeks. “Xronia polla.”

  Elena nodded. “I will see you back at the house in a few minutes.”

  Theodora felt his hand on her back. “We’ll come tonight,” Andreas said. “But tomorrow we go to Theodora’s family in Diakofto.”

  “Easter should be with family,” Elena said, looking around as if to see who had heard her son speak to her in such a way.

  “Yes, I know,” Andreas said.

  24

  2010

  “It’s time,” Solon said. “And you wanted to help.”

  Alexia held herself on her elbows, squinting at the light from the hallway.

  “We’re just about ready.”

  “I’m awake,” Alexia said. “I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

  He closed the door. She flicked on the light on her nightstand, lay against the headboard. 5:30 a.m. Why hadn’t she stayed and talked to Theodora yesterday? She’d kept herself up half the night thinking about it. She should have stayed, faced up to whatever anger or shock Theodora might have had. Alexia remembered what she had gone through herself when she’d found out about Theodora, how long it took for her to accept that she had a sister. She could help Theodora with all of this. It was too much for Theodora to handle by herself. Theodora needed her to be her big sister. And what had she done? She’d taken off. Damn it. It wasn’t like she didn’t know how to tackle things head on. She’d never wanted to cause Theodora more trouble. Or at least, that’s what she told herself.

  She flung the covers off. Maybe Theodora needed some time to think about it all. Giving her some space might have been the best thing to do. Please come today, she thought. Please. I don’t want us to waste any more time. You have family, her father had said to her. She wished he were here with her. She’d say, I know.

  Alexia pulled on her jeans, wiggled into a sweater. She stood in the middle of her room in the light of the one small lamp by her bed. I’ve taken my shot, she thought. I’ve told her the truth about who I was, what I’m doing here. Whatever happens, she was not going to give up on having a relationship with Theodora. She’d make Theodora see that this was important for both of them.

  On the kitchen counter, a whole skinned lamb lay on sheets of newspaper, its feet tied together, its eyes hollow. Solon manoeuvred the long spit through its body. Zak waited on the other end of the lamb for the sharp metal to protrude. Christina and Katarina sat at the kitchen table, a bowl
of meat parts in front of them. They dipped the bits into olive oil, pushing them onto another spit, one piece tight against the other.

  “What’s that?” Alexia asked.

  “We call it a souvla,” Christina said.

  “No, not the spit itself,” Alexia said. She pointed to the meat. “That.”

  “The best part.”

  Katarina laughed. “The insides. Kokoresti.” Her oily hands pressed a hunk of liver onto the spit.

  “I invited Theodora and her family,” Alexia said. “I told her.”

  Solon stopped struggling with the spit. He nodded to Zak. They rested the lamb against the counter. He washed his hands in the sink, splashing water everywhere. He dried his hands on his pants. Christina stared at the hunks of innards floating in a pool of watery oil in the bowl.

  “Easter is a time for a new beginning,” Solon finally said.

  Alexia met his gaze.

  “Is this what you want?” he asked.

  Alexia nodded. “It’s time.”

  “You did the right thing,” Solon said.

  Christina rubbed the excess oil off her hands and into the bowl. She got up and walked to the sink, her hands held together. She grumbled under her breath.

  “What is it, woman?” Solon said.

  Christina turned to face Solon. “You don’t worry about what people will say?”

  He went to Christina. “I have never worried.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “Who cares? Haven’t we suffered enough? Paid enough?”

  “But with your family?”

  “I told you many times,” he said. “What they thought or said never mattered to me. It was important to you. Not me. I have only cared about one person.” He winked. “Always. Just one.”

  Christina shook her head, allowed the slightest smile. “That simple?”

  He nodded, then turned towards the meat. “It won’t cook itself,” Solon said.

  “Go,” Christina said. “Who is stopping you?”

  “Let’s have the newest member of the family help carry the souvla to the fires.”

  Alexia took one end, Solon the other. They carried it out of the house and walked towards the field at the back. Maria’s husband and some of the other neighbours tended the coals on several small fires. Alexia and Solon dropped the souvla on the spikes set across one of the fires. “Below are grape vines,” Maria said. “Makes for tastier meat.”