by Sara Alexi
'And a whole plate of food,' Argyro chipped in, with no laugh, just a hard stare.
'I do feel a little clumsy these days,' Vasso whispered to Spiros, quietly enough that Argyro could not hear.
'I will not have you whispering about me when I am in the room.' Argyro stood sharply, knocking her coffee so that it slopped over the rim and her cigarette rolled from the saucer she was using as an ashtray onto the floor.
'Stop it, Argyro, it was not about you,' Spiros implored.
'Then why whisper?'
'I cannot do this, Spiro,' Vasso whispered again. 'Not with the baby inside me, I feel stressed and, oh…' She bent double.
'Vasso! Are you are alright?"
'What is it, son?' Stamatis came in from outside.
'Vasso indulging in some dramatics,' Argyro replied.
'Does it hurt?' Spiros asked. 'Is it the baby?'
'Panayia!' Stamatis called on his god and was by Vasso’s side. Father and son took an arm each and they led her to the chair where Argyro was sitting, just staring at them.
'Get up, woman,' Stamatis spat, and the startled Argyro stood and moved aside as they sat Vasso down. Spiros squatted on the floor in front of her.
'Do you need a doctor?' he asked.
'No,' Vasso said cautiously, and then a smile came to her lips. 'No, but you need to feel.' She put his hand on her stomach and smiled up at Stamatis. 'I think it just kicked.’ Stamatis waited his turn to feel and the three of them tried to make out the baby’s foot, and then maybe where the head might be. They tried to guess if it was a girl or boy and, after a few minutes, Vasso became very aware of Argyro standing staring at the three of them.
'You want to feel?' she said.
Argyro's finger’s twitched but then she frowned and made no move to come closer.
'You know, it might be time for you to stop work, Vasso. If anything happened I would never forgive myself,' Spiros said.
'It’s early days yet.' She tried to get to her feet.
'No, Vasso, Spiros is right. Argyro can do the washing-up,' Stamatis agreed.
'But what will I do all day?'
Spiros leaned towards her and whispered. 'We will find you a magazine to read,' and he tried very hard not to laugh.
Argyro could not have heard, but she banged some pots around to show her displeasure anyway.
Chapter 28
The next day Stamatis was at the taverna before anyone else, and he had made some changes. The table by the counter, Argyro's table, now had a tablecloth on it and, where the ashtray had been the day before, he had placed a glass with a bright pink sprig of bougainvillea in it. A magazine, more colourful than any Argyro tended to read, with a young French face adorning the front cover, lay unopened.
'I bought her this.' Stamatis left the pile of knives and forks he was wrapping in napkins ready to lay on the tables and unfolded something on the chair next to him. It was a full-length apron with pink flowers and blue edging. 'So her clothes don’t get wet when she washes up.'
'It might take more than that to soften Argyro, Baba,' Spiros said.
'It's lovely.' Vasso offered her support of her father-in-law’s actions. But the look on Stamati’s face told her he was afraid it was not going to make the situation any easier.
'But you, Vasso,' Stamatis found his smile. ‘This table is for you.' He pulled out the chair so she could sit. 'I didn’t know what you like to read so I got one with a girl on the cover that looked like you.'
Vasso looked at this girl in her false eyelashes and her red lipstick and could not help but chuckle. But her hand went to her hair. Maybe she could wear a little make-up sometimes. A woman should not let herself go just because she was married.
'Ha! Thank goodness it isn't!' Spiros laughed and then stood behind Vasso as she opened the first page, all of them intrigued by the novelty and the bright colours of the glossy production. Spiros had seemed like his old self then, and the change that had occurred on the honeymoon faded a little and Vasso felt they were back at a place where they had no secrets from each other.
They were still standing this way when Argyro came in, and her face could not have made her feelings any more obvious. Stamatis presented the apron along with many soothing words, and she took it in silence and began a slow clattering that lasted all day.
The pattern was repeated the next day, and the day after that, and Argyro became more and more silent. Spiros seemed to forget that she was even there as he talked to Vasso. He spoke of the baby, of what they would do with the rooms below their bedroom when they had enough money to buy materials. There was a sense of urgency in his words even though his tone was steady, and it reminded Vasso of something that she could not quite put her finger on. He wanted to build a kitchen, of course, but also a room where the baby could crawl and play, he insisted. Vasso felt she should be pleased with these plans, but somehow she was unsettled instead.
Time passed and mostly the days were peaceful. Then one day Vasso felt a sharp cramp before she was even out of bed.
'What’s the matter?' Spiros asked as she sat up and twisted to put her feet on the floor
'Just a little cramping, but it’s really painful.'
Spiros left immediately and returned with the pharmacist, who called his friend the doctor and the doctor ordered her back to bed.
'For how long?' Vasso asked, and he shrugged.
And so she stayed at home. Stamatis brought her a magazine and coffee every morning. Spiros popped back once or twice to chat and stroke her face, but the days were long and lonely.
Chapter 29
The real pain came just after they had gone to bed one evening. The first was just a weak pulse, but the second had her gripping the sheets.
'I can't do this!' she had called out.
Spiros, always quick to fall asleep, was already gently snoring, and he awoke with a start.
'Is it time?' He pushed back the thin sheet that had been keeping off the mosquitoes.
The pain had stopped.
'Oh, that was a bit extreme, but I think that was a one-off. No, it has passed. Sorry to wake you.'
She looked into his eyes, which were wide and scared.
'Don't worry, Spiro. Women have been doing this for thousands of years. It is… Oh my, no, I can't do this. No!'
'Hold me,' Spiros demanded, and she felt for him and her arms went around his shoulders and she rode the pain coursing down the other side, so close to Spiros.
Then they waited for the next spasm, but nothing happened. They waited some more and still nothing.
'You know, I’ve been thinking, for when the baby comes. I mean, I’ve been busy, but it’s just nicer when you’re in the taverna as well,' Spiros said. It sounded like he had a point to make, something he was working up to saying, but Vasso could not concentrate on his words; her whole being was focused on what her body needed.
'Do you think we should let the midwife know? I understand it’s the donkey man's mama? If she is at their home up on the ridge it might take her an hour to get here.'
'She’ll only come if it’s a difficult birth. Baba's cousin said she would come if you wanted help. Shall I get her?'
'Perhaps not yet.'
'So, I was thinking that it might be good for Argyro to give some of her time to the little one.
'Here it comes again. Hold me.' The spasm rode across her back, crescendoed until she thought she could bear no more and then retreated like a wave. 'I thought they were meant to come across your stomach?' she said, panting for breath.
'If she were to take him, or her, we could run the taverna together.'
'Spiro, I am not sure this is the time to talk of such things. Let’s bring her, or him, into the world first.'
'It’s just that she has offered…'
'What has she offered?' A flare of distrust rose in her, followed by another contraction. With her face in Spiro’s shoulder she hung on and, rather like at her wedding, the world disappeared and there was only him, his shoulder,
only his voice and the squeezing, the muscles in her body taking over and the huge desire to get the baby out, just get it out, to use every force within her to get it out.
'She says I can have the taverna if she can play her part in bringing him up.'
'Hold me, hold me, I need to get…' She shuffled to the edge of the bed.
'The taverna would be ours. Officially.'
'Oh, it’s going, it's subsiding. Stay close. Don't let me go.'
'So shall we agree to that?'
'To what?'
'To Argyro giving us the taverna officially?'
'Really, did she say that?'
'Yes. She would hand over the books, get it changed at the tax office – everything.'
'Why?'
'Did you not hear me?'
'Hear what? Oh, hang on, here is, oh…'
'Breathe, breathe,' Spiros spoke into her ear and she felt like she was taking on the biggest job of her life. Closing her eyes, she focused on the baby’s needs, focusing from the ends of her fingers and up from her toes, concentrating all her energy. Another spasm blocked out the world and there was only the desperate need to help the baby out. As the waves came closer together, she felt not so much a sensation of pain, but, rather, a determination to do the right thing for the baby – and also, with a pure animal urge, to get what was now a separate being out of her body. This added selfishness only built on the urges that were there already, her strength growing. To stop the experience totally engulfing her, she kept her face pressed into Spiro’s shoulder and there was only him and his voice in the whole word. She could hear nothing else: just his voice, his breathing, his heartbeat.
'You’re doing great, Vasso. Keep going my love.' His words soothed and washed over her.
'Perhaps get the cousin to come, to tie the cord. No, don't go, not now. Stay.' And she gripped him with the same strength that the waves gripped her and together they rode high above anywhere she had ever been before and there was only him. 'I love you!' She could hear her own voice echoing in the room and Spiros was laughing and shouting. 'It’s a boy, he's a boy. Vasso, we have a son.' And they laughed and Spiros shouted out of the window for Stamatis who whooped his delight into the night. With the baby held against her she felt another wave.
'Why another wave, Spiro, what is happening?' And Spiro’s eyes widened as Vasso grimaced. He took the baby as she strained and then the pain was gone.
'Am I too late?' The briefest of taps preceded the appearance of Stamati’s cousin’s head around the door. Spiros pulled a sheet over Vasso and an old woman came in, slightly stooped and holding a headscarf around a pleasant, age-worn face.
'Now, where have we got to? Oh my, she is here!'
'He!' Vasso and Spiros said in unison.
'Can I come in?' Stamatis called from outside the door.
'In a minute,' his cousin said, and the old woman deftly did all that was necessary, wrapping the child and dealing with the mess as best she could.
'I could do with a bucket of water, Stamatis.'
'Boiling water?’ He asked through the door.
'No! I just want to clean the place up a bit. Perhaps you could manage some clean sheets, too.’
Vasso paid the cousin no attention. She had her son and her husband; her world was complete.
'You can come in now, Stamatis,' the old woman said and, to Vasso’s shock, right behind Stamatis was Argyro. Vasso held on to her child tightly.
Stamatis reached down for the little bundle and he took it with such care it made Vasso smile. After gazing tenderly at his first grandchild he stepped forward and, bending down, offered him back.
'May I?' Argyro asked, and without waiting for a reply she pushed in and took the child from Stamatis, gazing closely at him, cooing and clucking over the little boy, rocking him and stroking his face with one finger.
Chapter 30
Argyro, her face so close to the baby’s, walked towards the door on swaying hips.
'My baby!' Vasso squealed.
'Argyro?' Stamatis said.
Spiros was on his feet.
'Oh, look at you all, so jumpy. You’re acting if I was going to steal him.' Argyro laughed. But she never took her eyes from her charge as she turned around and swayed back to the bedside.
'Please,' Vasso said and stretched out her arms.
'Who is a handsome boy then? Who is my handsome boy? What a beautiful boy you are.'
'Argyro!' Vasso stretched her hands even further.
Argyro continued to address the little bundle. 'Oh dear, his mama is quite jealous. Who’s my boy, eh? Shall I give you back to Mama? Shall I? Or do you want another cuddle?'
'Argyro.' Stamatis was by her side, his arm around her shoulder. 'Let the baby suckle.' Finally, Argyro surrendered the boy and Vasso pulled him back to her breast.
'We’ve seen him now. Let’s go back to our beds and leave this family to find their feet,' said Stamati’s cousin. She wished them farewell but assured them that they must not hesitate to call her if she could do anything further.
'She’s right. Come, Argyro.' And, as the three of them left, the room fell silent.
'Look what we did!' Spiros lay close to Vasso, pulling the blanket edge away from his son’s face.
'She nearly walked out with him.'
'Look, he’s yawning. So cute. And look at the size of his hands.'
'Did you see her?' Vasso asked.
'Have you counted his toes? Ah, how perfect. Look how they curl.'
'Is he gripping your finger with his toes?'
'Just about. How clever is he?'
'Oh, look at his little chubby knees.’
And the night passed with them inspecting their son from head to toe and being amazed by everything about him. He started to cry, but Vasso rocked him against her chest, and he found the source of nourishment and sighed himself into oblivious ecstasy.
The baby fell asleep against Vasso and Vasso fell asleep against Spiros, the three of them curled up on the bed. So when dawn came and Spiros tried to wriggle out for work Vasso woke and their baby woke. Again, the small child started to cry but Vasso was there ready to feed him, a fresh towel around him.
'I need to go to work.’ There was that urgency again as Spiros spoke. 'I will come back as soon as the doors are open and I have left Baba with some instructions about what to prepare for me later.' He kissed her forehead.
Vasso took his words, his kiss, his thoughts, his kindness, but she did not care if he was going for an hour or a day. Her world was at her breast and he was all she needed right now.
'Do you want to call him Stamatis after your baba?’ she asked casually, immune to his hurry.
'No, I don’t think so. How about Theodoris after my grandfather?’ he replied absently.
'Very traditional, but is there not some issue with your grandfather and Argyro? Won’t that be a problem?'
'Ah, good point. Maybe I can ask Baba now what that is all about. It’s a good excuse isn't it? I have to go, my sweet.' And he bent low and kissed his child on his forehead and then kissed Vasso’s shoulder, and kissed her lips and kissed her nose and kissed her hand and left.
'You want to be a Theodoris? It’s a nice name.' The baby cooed its answer and Vasso was amazed. 'Theodoris?' She said again and again the baby gurgled. 'I think you like it.'
Minutes after Spiros had gone, Stamatis announced his presence with a gentle knock. 'Can I come in?'
'Sure.' Vasso pulled the sheet over her and lifted the baby onto the outside.
'And how is our brave mama?' Stamatis asked.
'Isn't he perfect?' Vasso said.
'He is indeed perfect. Ach. I can still remember the day Spiros came into the world. Anna, my wife, looked more beautiful than I had ever seen her. And Spiros came into this world with a shock of hair you wouldn't believe!' His eyes clouded and he looked like he might cry. 'Anna was quite a woman.' He said it so quietly Vasso was not sure if he meant to speak it out loud.
'We’re thinking of
calling him Theodoris, after your baba,' Vasso offered.
He reacted as if coming out of a dream.
'Theodoris?' But the clouded look was still partially there.
'Would that be alright? Because – well, I do not mean to go where I am not invited, but I have sort of understood that there is some kind of issue. I really don't want to make things worse – you know, with Argyro.'
'Ah yes,' Stamatis said, but without really listening. He was elsewhere and his fingers found the baby’s hand, its tiny fingers trying to grip him.
'Stamatis?' She put her free hand on his shoulder and he lifted his head, his eyes swimming with tears. 'Oh.' She was not sure what to say, seeing the pain in his eyes.
'She was such a good woman. Kind, gentle, caring, soft, never raised her voice, and she could cook. Not this fancy stuff that Spiros does. Just plain, good food.'
'You must miss her.'
'Every day.' The baby made a gurgling sound.
'But now you have Argyro.' Vasso was trying to be kind but just saying it felt like a taunt. How could he have married someone like her after a wife who was so sweet and kind that just the thought of her reduced him to tears? Why would he marry someone like her?
'Argyro.' He almost sneered the word, and looked from the baby to the window, as if he wanted to get away. 'What a bitter person she is.'
Vasso’s mouth dropped open and her eyes widened. She quickly tried to wipe the shock from her face but he looked back and caught it.
'I know. You must wonder why I ever married her.'
'It’s none of my business,' Vasso said, returning his gaze.
'It may not be, but I know you do.' His sadness filled the room, and she even forgot her beautiful son, just for a second.
'If she makes you this sad then why did you, Baba?' The word slipped out so naturally she found no reason to retract it or explain it.
'Normally, I would say this is no one’s business but ours. Argyro's and mine.'
She waited.
'But seeing as you want to call the baby Theodoris I think you should know everything there is to know and then you can decide. I will not stop you.'