by Kahn, Denise
“Father, that’s blackmail!” Faydon exclaimed. “How could you?”
“Call it what you like, but you have just witnessed my marriage proposal to the woman who has taught me many fine things.” Koulouris felt only victory.
Eleni spoke slowly and calmly, looking Stefanos straight in the eyes. “That was dirty and underhanded to use your children in such a fashion. You are a chauvinist, a real sexist, Stefanos. You are lucky that I love your children very much, as I do you, but now it is my turn to make you a counter offer.” She had yet to open the box. As she did, the powerful Aegean sun shone on a beautiful fifteen-carat square cut emerald lined with diamond baguettes. The rays on the gem had a blinding effect. Eleni still showed no sign of any emotion. “My deal,” she continued, “is this. The children go to Harvard and I become officially engaged to you, but my condition is that I will set the date of the wedding.”
The twins held their breath. Eleni was cunning. She was gambling for their futures, and the twins felt that they already knew the outcome, so powerful was Eleni’s hold on their father.
“Do you agree?”
“Bellissima Diva,” Koulouris said. “Your performance is as usual unsurpassed. You are very shrewd and you drive an even better bargain. I accept.” Koulouris put the ring on her finger. “You should have been a businessman.”
“You mean a businesswoman,” Penelope corrected him.
He grunted.
“And what, Penelope, will you study at Harvard?” her father asked.
“I will be at the Harvard Business School.”
Stefanos threw his hands up and looked at the sky. The Gods had erred somewhere terribly. His daughter wants to become the businessman, and his son wants to be a doctor, the son who is supposed to become head of Koulouris Enterprises, and the daughter who is supposed to marry. “This is getting too complicated,” he said. “We will talk again.”
After their first year at Harvard, much to their father’s dismay, the twins continued their studies. Faydon proved to be brilliant in the medical field and continued for another six years, specializing in the cancer research field. Penelope graduated at the top of her class, and managed to convince her father to let her work at one of his offices in Piraeus. He of course believed that she would be a disaster, would fall flat on her face and make a complete fool of herself, but she proved him wrong on all counts. She actually improved his businesses. She reorganized the company in such a way that in a short time, Koulouris was making profits he never knew possible. He now regarded her as proficient and he was quite proud of her. His son, the Doctor, was extremely successful, not financially, that did not concern him, but more importantly in his research, and he was highly respected in his field. Koulouris finally came round to realizing that Faydon was doing something special for the whole world. He was very proud of both his children, and like all good Greek fathers, he wanted his children close to him, closer to home, closer to their roots. It bothered him that Faydon stayed in Massachusetts at one of the large research hospitals.
On the twins’ twenty-seventh birthday, Koulouris called a press conference to which he invited the international press as well as his business associates. When all had gathered in the huge conference room at the Piraeus head office, Koulouris finally told them what was on his mind.
“I know this is a little unusual, but of course you are aware that I am an unusual man,” he said, and the crowd laughed. Yes, they knew him. When he called a press conference, it was well attended. “I have called you here today,” he continued, “to make an announcement. First, you will note that champagne is flowing amply and I hope you will drink it for this is a wonderful day and we should all celebrate it.”
“Today is the birthday of my children,” he said, looking at Faydon and Penelope. The crowd clapped politely. “Also on this day, I am retiring.”
The room began to hum. The business reporters knew they had a page-one story. Koulouris’ business associates were alternately shocked and afraid.
“I know you are wondering who will replace me.”
This was greeted with laughter, for that is exactly what they wondered.
“Well, I have found my replacement and I believe this person is the best man for the job.” He extended his hand toward his handpicked replacement. “The best man is none other than a lady, my daughter, Penelope Koulouris.”
Penelope stood for the applause. She was widely respected by the shipping and business communities.
“I see you agree,” Koulouris said. “Good! I am glad. Of course, many of you might have thought that my son would have continued in my footsteps, but he has decided on another field of endeavor, one which I must admit I was firmly against, for I had hoped one day he would succeed me. But let me tell you, that one is a stubborn Greek if I ever saw one, almost as stubborn as his father.”
Now, the crowd roared with laughter.
“But believe it or not, I was finally convinced, and I am glad of it. Faydon has become an internationally acclaimed research specialist. He is a doctor, and of course a brilliant one. My sources confirm this.”
Koulouris waited until the crowd quieted. “My son has done what few noble people in this world can, and I must admit that I was a little jealous that I did not have this God-given gift, but I wanted to help.”
Faydon, grinning quizzically, wondered what his father was up to. His father, he knew, was capable of almost anything.
“Now, finally, I present on behalf of the endeavors of my son and his colleagues the new Koulouris Institute for Cancer Research here in Greece.” Koulouris unveiled a miniature replica of a building with tiny trees and cars parked in tiny spaces on fake asphalt. “You see, my son, I too have done some homework.”
Faydon, tears filling his eyes, embraced his father.
Koulouris’ final announcement was his marriage to Miss Eleni Kerzi, the great Diva.
Eleni kissed him on the cheek. Koulouris, an arm around his new wife and his children at his side, could hardly contain his emotion. Ah, I did it, he thought, this is the happiest day of my life. He beckoned all in attendance to join him in a toast.
Stefanos Koulouris had indeed come a long way. He could not have believed that a man could be so happy. When he learned that Eleni’s godchild Davina Walters was on her first singing tour, he insisted on throwing her a party, a very big party that would stretch from Monte Carlo to Portofino, Rome and an to his own personal Greek island, Sinefaki.
Traditional Greek folk music could be heard from the deck of the Aphrodite as the guests began to arrive after Davina’s concert in Monte Carlo. Koulouris and Eleni, and Davina’s mother Melina, who lived in Greece since her husband’s death, greeted them with a glass of champagne and kisses on the cheeks. Melina and Eleni showed the guests who would be staying on the yacht to their staterooms.
Eleni decorated each of the twenty staterooms in the style of a single artist or period. Jacques’ room was the Gauguin, which had two original Gauguin paintings, done during the artist’s time in Tahiti. The room had a Polynesian mystique about it. Monique would love this room, Jacques thought.
Adam and Ruth were in the Hogarth, where a painting by the early 18th century British artist hung. Bianca was in the Rafael, Eric in Caravaggio. Jean and Rodrigo were in the Sargeant, where one of his gypsy paintings hung. Melina was in the El Greco. Davina and Alejandro were in the Pajac. Eleni had her godchild in mind when she decorated this suite because she knew Davina loved this modern French artist’s work. The suite exuded youth and elegance. When Davina saw it, tears came to her eyes.
“Eleni, you are finissimi,” she said, hugging her chubby godmother. “You’ve made this room especially for me, haven’t you?”
“I’m happy you approve, little one, but this room does not even border on your beauty, not so much physically, but more importantly your inner beauty. Promise me you’ll never change. I am very proud of you, and I love you very, very much.”
The two divas embraced one another, love and re
spect in their eyes and hearts.
All aboard gathered in the ballroom for champagne and caviar and a midnight buffet of shrimp trees and other delicacies. An ice sculpture of the Aphrodite gleamed under the recessed lights. The guests lounged around the grand piano, the mirrored bar, or sat on the leather and silk couches.
Stefanos Koulouris told them there was enough food and spirits on board to last a decade. “Please, indulge and enjoy,” he said, “and if you should require anything, we will be most happy to get it for you.”
When the first rays of the Mediterranean sun began to bathe the vessel, the guests who would not be sailing bade their hosts farewell and the Aphrodite slowly made her way from the marina of Monte Carlo into the azure that lay beyond.
Since Koulouris’ retirement, he spent more time sailing on his yacht than he ever had before. He never missed any of Eleni’s performances, no matter where in the world she happened to be singing. She meant everything to him, and he would have gladly given up his empire for her. How one changes, he often mused. As a young man, his ambition was to be wealthy, powerful and independent. But now that he was older, he realized that true happiness did not exist without the love, trust and friendship of his life-long partner.
”Agapimou, my love, you must be having a day dream, or should I say a morning dream, considering the hour it is,” Eleni said. “Why are you smiling?”
“I was thinking of you, my sweet, and how much you mean to me. You are right, it is late. Shall we go to our room?”
Eleni cradled his arm as they left their guests and headed for their own personal suite, decorated with paintings of the modern Greek painter Thanasis Akrivopoulos, a favorite of Eleni’s.
As the Aphrodite sailed the waters of the Mediterranean, Stefanos and Jacques were shooting skeet off the stern. Most of the guests were at the pool. Adam and Ruth sat together on the edge with their feet in the water.
Davina followed Alejandro and Rodrigo into the pool.
“Jean, wouldn’t you like to cool off as well?” Eleni asked.
“I can’t swim.”
“I see, yes, that could be a problem,” she said and sat down next to Jean.
“Eleni, thank you for this wonderful cruise. Everything is just… just… wonderful.”
“Don’t mention it, just enjoy yourself, that’s all that counts,” she said, watching Jean closely. “Is there anything wrong?”
“It’s just that… Well, all of you, you’re rich and famous, and I feel a little out of place, like a fraud.”
“Ah! Let me tell you something, and I want you to listen carefully and understand this. Yes, you are right. We are a group apart. We are successful, rich and famous, each in our own way. We do lead the good life, but we’ve worked hard, some of us maybe harder than others. But we’ve all had our share of problems and pain. We’ve learned, usually the hard way, who our friends really are, and there is nothing more important in the world than a good friend. What we are interested in is the wealth someone has in his or her heart. It does not matter how much money you have in your bank account. Davina has become your friend for this reason. She sees the wealth inside of you, not the carats of the rings on your fingers or your beautiful eyes. You must never feel out of place among your friends. Otherwise they would not be real friends.”
Jean was touched. “Thank you, Eleni.”
“Hello, everybody,” Penelope said, waving her towel. “I see you are deep in what seems to be a very important discussion,” she said to Eleni and Jean. “It could only be artistic gossip.”
Koulouris’ daughter was wearing a designer swimsuit that accented her lovely lines. She looked very much like her father, dark-skinned, and handsome. One look made men stop what they were doing, and when she opened her mouth, intelligence spoke. She had been proposed to many times but Penelope never wanted any part of these offers of marriage. She was content with her work and her friends. She believed love would come when the time was right.
“What’s for lunch?” she asked her stepmother.
“I don’t understand it,” Eleni said. “Penelope eats like a horse and doesn’t gain a gram. How do you do it?”
“Simple, Eleni, I work out.”
“But when do you work out? You’re always at the office. You mean you push that pencil so much that it reduces your calories?”
“Hey, Jean!” Rodrigo shouted. “Why don’t you come in and let me rescue you. I could give you mouth-to-mouth if you get in trouble.”
“No, thanks, I’ll pass.”
Jacques went to the communications room to answer a telephone call. He wondered who it might be and thought darkly of Robini, the Italian promoter. But then he dismissed this quickly. Robini wouldn’t dare. The Rome concert was booked solid.
Jacques picked up the telephone receiver. “Hallo?”
“Jacques?”
“Oui?”
“This is Charles Charpentier.” He was Monique’s physician.
“Yes, Docteur, how is she?”
“I’m afraid nothing new, but we would like to try some new medicine on her that might bring her out of the comatose condition. I need your approval.”
“Is it dangerous?”
“The results so far on other patients have been very encouraging, but there is always a percentage of danger, that is why I need your okay.”
“Could there be a possibility of her…not making it?”
“I will be honest with you, my friend, there is always that possibility, but in Monique’s case, I think the risk factor would not be too high. The percentage is low.”
“If she were you’re wife, would you… would you?”
“I do not want to influence your decision, but once you give it to me, either way, I will tell you what I would do if I was in your position.”
Jacques could not make the decision, not alone. He asked the doctor to give him a few minutes and he dialed the extension at the pool.
“Chérie, I’m on the line with Charles, Monique’s doctor,” he told Davina. “He wants to try some new medicine on Monique which could bring her out of the coma, but it may be dangerous.”
“Jacques, what are you asking me?”
He sighed. “I’m not sure. If it succeeds, she could come back, if not, she… she might…”
“I’ll be right there.”
Davina wrapped a towel around her and went to the communications room where Jacques sat, holding his head in his hands.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I just don’t know.”
Davina put an arm around his shoulders. “I won’t make the decision for you, Jacques. You know I can’t do that. But if it was up to me, I would tell Charles to go ahead. It’s a chance, but it’s worth the risk. It’s time Jacques. For all of us, but especially for you and for Monique.”
He knew she was right. “Thank you, chérie,” he said, putting the doctor back on the line.
“Charles, I have made my decision.” Jacques breathed in deeply. “Go ahead. Do it.”
“Very good.”
“And, Charles, please tell me your answer. What would your choice be?”
“I would do the same.”
“Thank you. I know you will do your best. When will we know the results?”
“It usually takes a few days. I will keep you up to date.”
“Very well,” Jacques said. He had just made the right decision, or one that would haunt him for the rest of his life.
Davina returned to poolside and whispered to Jean. “Can we talk?” She had not told Jean the news about Simon Grady. Davina squeezed Jean’s hand. This was her opportunity.
“Is everything alright?” Jean asked.
“Perhaps there is something.”
“There is something I have to tell you first… The truth is, Davina, I…I have cancer. I don’t know how much time I have left. I haven’t told Rodrigo. I don’t know how to tell him. I’m so in love with him. I have leukemia. I take pills. They keep me alive, I suppose. I’m almost out of the pills. But it
doesn’t seem to matter now. I’ve never felt so well in my life.” Jean started to cry. “If this is what love does, then I could die tomorrow and it won’t matter because I’m so high on life right now.”
Davina just listened. “I know, Jean” she said very gently, I’ve know since the airport in Miami the first day we met..
“You know? But how?”
“I saw your pills. I knew what they were for because of my father.” Davina said, reliving her father’s hell in a split second, but she came back quickly. “However, I have some things I need to discuss with you.”
“What is it?”
Davina had spoken to Faydon who suggested that Jean come to the Koulouris Clinic in Athens. It would be a good preamble to the more difficult news.
They went into one of the lounges, empty now, and sat on an over-sized couch. The air conditioning made them shiver.
"Good news first,” Davina said, and she told Jean about the Koulouris Clinic and the work Faydon was doing there with cancer patients.
“Does he think there’s hope?” Jean asked.
“There’s always hope!”
“But this is leukemia, Davina.”
“I know. Faydon says leukemia is often curable. Those are his words. He’ll examine you at the clinic in Athens. You can talk to him. He’s on the yacht with us. I know he can help you.”
“Rodrigo still doesn’t know.”
“You’ll tell him when you’re ready.”
Jean did feel hopeful, no matter that a doctor had already told her she had only a few years to live. Rodrigo gave her hope. Her life had changed so completely.
“There’s something else, Jean. It's Simon Grady."
"What's he done now?"
Davina told her.
"I’ve put you in danger, Davina. He’s got to be stopped. Maybe we should forget the clinic in Athens.”
“Jean, what are you saying?”
“I'm the one Simon wants. I could probably find him. Or he’d find me.”
"Are you out of your mind? He'll kill you! Do you think I've forgotten the look on his face at the airport and the state you were in? He's crazy, and you know that better than anyone. Your geste, your gesture, is very gallant, Jean, but not one of us would allow it. You are too dear to us. You've suffered enough.”