The Gold Letter

by Lena Manta

  “Now you’re blaming me?!”

  “Don’t you know the sin you’re carrying? Roza, a parent isn’t God. It’s not right to control his life like that. He loved her, and you got in the way. We all let you destroy that family, and look at the result! He hates all of us now. In his way, he’s saying, ‘You didn’t let me have the one I loved? I’ll show you what I can do,’ and he’ll keep at it until you wish that he had her again.”

  “That will never happen. Even when I’m dead, I won’t change my mind!”

  “And we’re all paying for your obsession. Because of a grudge, you didn’t let your child be happy.”

  “A grudge? Is that what you call it?”

  “What else is it? A childish tantrum, and you made it into a rallying cry! Did I ever deny you because I loved Smaragda? When I married you, I honored my marriage vows. I was never unfaithful. Do you still have doubts about that?”

  “No, I didn’t say anything like that,” she admitted and lowered her head.

  “Then why did you cause so much harm?”

  “Because you didn’t love me.”

  “And who did you punish, Roza? Me, through your child? You placed your ego higher than his life. I told you all this back then, but did you listen to me? No! It was like talking to a wall. You got everyone worked up with your shouting.”

  “Do we have to go over all of it again? The question is Vassilis.”

  “Yes. Now Vassilis has become another person.”

  “Yes, but how far is this going to go? I’m afraid he may get into trouble at those places he goes to.”

  “You may be afraid, but I’m certain!”

  They were silent, each lost in thoughts that grew more distressing every day. There were nights when Vassilis didn’t return home. The elder Vassilis Kouyoumdzis shouted, threatened, and quarreled with Simeon, who he said didn’t have the guts to rule his household and rein in the useless boy.

  What happened next was worse, and it caught them completely unprepared. One Sunday, after Vassilis didn’t come home the previous night, they sat at the dinner table in a bad mood. The other two children didn’t dare open their mouths in front of their father and especially their grandfather, who was glaring at everyone. They heard the front door open, and a few seconds later, in came Vassilis. But he wasn’t alone. Beside him stood a short, very dark girl. The silence that had prevailed until then became even deeper. Vassilis smiled cheerfully while the girl bit her lips nervously.

  “The whole family’s here!” the young man declared, slurring his words. “We’re right on time!”

  First Simeon stood up, then Roza.

  “What is this behavior, Vassilis? How can you appear in front of us and your grandparents drunk?” she chided him in a measured tone.

  “Don’t upset yourself, Mother,” he answered her with an ironic smile. “When I share my news, then you and Papa and Grandpa and all of you will want to drink as well. They toast to engagements, don’t they?”

  “What engagement are you talking about?” Simeon asked. “And who is the girl beside you?”

  “Ah, yes. A serious omission. Let me introduce you to Miss Lefkothea Yerimoglou, my future wife!”

  He would have met with less objection if he had brought a cannon into the house. Roza collapsed in her chair while Simeon stood upright, unable to accept the news. Vassilis’s brother and sister only opened their mouths and eyes wide, while his grandmother burst into tears. His grandfather glanced at him and then stood up, threw down his napkin, and left the table. Passing by his son, he spat at Simeon’s feet in disdain.

  “Son, are you serious?” Simeon finally asked.

  “I think I made myself clear. Lefkothea and I are getting married next Sunday. And before you argue, I’m telling you it can’t be any other way because our bride is already expecting my child!”

  Not even Simeon could bear the second blow. He sat down and emptied his glass in a gulp.

  “Vassilis, it’s better if I go,” the girl said softly. “I’ll come again another day.”

  “You don’t have to go anywhere. From now on, you’re going to be my wife, and my parents have to respect you. You’re going to give them a grandchild,” Vassilis retorted and then turned to his father. “Won’t you give me your blessing?”

  Simeon rubbed his forehead, trying to get a handle on things.

  “Excuse me, my girl, but this has come rather suddenly . . .”

  “Yes, I understand,” she murmured.

  “Why don’t we all go into the living room?” asked Roza, who had also recovered enough to say what she had to.

  The two couples moved into the other room. Nobody else followed. They didn’t dare.

  “And now, I’d like to learn a few things about your future wife,” Simeon said seriously after signaling for his own wife to be silent. He could see she was ready to burst.

  Vassilis began to speak about Lefkothea as if she weren’t present, and with every word, his parents sank lower. The bride was very poor and had no parents. She worked in a hat shop to survive and lived with a distant aunt. The whole time he spoke, Roza’s eyes passed over the girl like an X-ray, and finally drew her lips so tight they disappeared. The girl’s clothes were old, and her shoes had seen better days. Her handbag was torn in places, and the lining showed. As the gaze of her future mother-in-law weighed more and more heavily on her, the girl tried to hide her shortcomings, but she knew it was impossible.

  An unbearable silence fell again on the room. Lefkothea got up determinedly. She was suffocating and longed to get out into the street, to smell fresh air. Vassilis was certainly her Prince Charming, but his castle was a prison. When they had met by chance on the street and he began to pursue her relentlessly, she couldn’t have imagined an ending like this. He waited for hours outside the shop where she worked, he followed her whenever she had to deliver an order, and finally, he managed to buy her dessert. Very soon, she fell in love with him and gave herself up to his arms. Her pregnancy made her feel hopeless because she was certain that the young, handsome man would abandon her. But she was wrong. He told her immediately he would marry her, and now she found herself opposite in-laws who, understandably, would not approve of this wedding. Everyone looked at her as she stood up, and Vassilis seemed surprised.

  “Lefkothea, what’s the matter? Aren’t you well?” he asked uneasily.

  “I’m fine, but I’m leaving. I’ll walk around a bit, then I’ll go home. Come to see me in the afternoon, and we’ll talk. Now you should stay and talk to your parents,” she told him firmly and then turned to the couple. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Kouyoumdzis.”

  Her eyes pleaded with him to let her go. He kissed her tenderly and escorted her out. Before he returned to the living room that would shortly turn into a battlefield, he took a deep breath. He approached his parents, looking first at his mother because he knew it was from her that the attack would begin. He wasn’t wrong.

  “Tell me, did it take you a long time to find her?” Roza shot out.

  “Don’t you like your new daughter-in-law?” he asked calmly.

  “What’s there to like? What street did you pick her up off of? Can you even tell me? She’s like a gypsy. Didn’t you see the rags she was wearing?”

  “I’m not marrying her for her beauty or for her clothes!” her son answered, smiling.

  “Then why?” his father wanted to know.

  “Because I love her. Why else?” he responded with an innocent smile. “Besides, I’ll buy her clothes and shoes. The best!”

  “Of course!” Roza burst out. “We’ve got a fortune for her to spend. You fool, that’s the reason she’s with you!”

  “Thank you very much, Mother. The respect you have for me is unbelievable!”

  “I’m going to go crazy! Listen to how my son treats me! Did she give you some magic potion to drink?”

  “Is it impossible for her to love me and I, her?”

  “Oh, enough of that. Weren’t there
enough nice, rich girls to choose from? If you wanted to get married so young, why didn’t you tell us to find you a nice bride?”

  “Because I wanted to find her myself!” Vassilis was beginning to lose his patience. “After all, you didn’t like Chrysafenia, and she was beautiful and rich. Now you’re insulting Lefkothea.”

  “Lefkothea!” Roza said ironically. “Couldn’t they find some other name to call that gypsy? And what will people say, eh? Didn’t you think of that? The son of Simeon Kouyoumdzis marrying a girl with no family.”

  “If you don’t like a doctor’s family, what could possibly be good enough? And as for what people will say, you know yourself. You’ll take care of all that. You managed to drive the doctor’s family out of the country with your slander. Well, now you’ll do the opposite. You’ll praise your daughter-in-law until everyone accepts her! Next Sunday I’ll marry her, and I’ll bring her here so we can all live together. Nothing else will happen because, in a few months, Lefkothea will have my child. And that’s that.”

  Roza collapsed in an armchair and burst into sobs. Simeon stood up and approached Vassilis calmly.

  “Vassilis, my son, if you loved her, I wouldn’t say a word, I swear to you. It has nothing to do with her being poor. But you don’t love her. You were in a hurry to punish us, and so you’ll punish yourself even more. You’re doing this out of spite, and a life without love is not worth living.”

  Roza sprang up as if a snake had bitten her.

  “Your father knows what he’s saying,” she shouted hysterically. “He married without love too, and suffers nobly for us all to see.”

  “This again, eh? Leave it, Roza!” Simeon shouted at her, then turned to his son. “You’re talking to me now. As you said, there’s no way out. The girl is expecting a baby, and the wedding must take place. But look at me. You’ll make her your wife, and you’ll respect her. Love her for the children she’ll give you, and treat her like a precious jewel. Leave your mother and me out of it. This isn’t about us. The subject is Lefkothea.”

  They exchanged a long look. Vassilis felt so close to his father that he lowered his head in shame.

  “I only met her briefly,” Simeon went on, “but I understand she’s a good girl. And she loves you. But you didn’t do the right thing, bringing her here. You shamed her and let us shame her. You know what it looked like to me, Vassilis? You didn’t bring her here as your wife and the mother of your children, but as a weapon to hurt us. Shame on you. If you want us to treat you as a man and respect your decisions, behave like one! You want to make her your wife? So treat her as a wife! Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Father. And I want to tell you—”

  “Don’t tell me anything! Go to your wife and ask her to forgive you. And to forgive us as well.”

  “Is it time now to—” Roza began.

  “Roza!” Simeon thundered. “I’m speaking! And in this house, I’m the boss. Do you remember?”

  He turned to his son again. “Pay attention, because this is what’s going to happen. You’ll take her to buy a dress and shoes and a bag and a coat. And you’ll bring her back here next Sunday. We’ll do things right this time. And we’ll arrange the wedding. OK?”

  “Thank you, Father,” Vassilis said, his eyes full of tears. “And I want to tell you something. I do love Lefkothea. She may not be Chrysafenia, but something inside me responds to her. Her love is tender, like a balm. She treats me with kindness and understanding.”

  “Then bravo, my son! You have my blessing,” Simeon said and hugged him. “Off you go now! Run and find her.”

  “Mama?” Vassilis asked, but she turned her back on him.

  “Leave your mother,” Simeon said. “Go!”

  Vassilis flew off. He hadn’t lied. Chrysafenia would live forever in his heart, but this girl who was waiting for him had managed to ease the pain. He lay in her arms and calmed down. Her love was so great that it was enough for them both.

  As soon as they were alone, Simeon turned to his wife. Roza was sitting on the couch, and he sat beside her. He didn’t speak, just looked at her as she kept crying, and he tried to find in himself what he felt for this woman he had spent his whole life beside. He wanted to say something, but just then, his father charged into the room, Simeon’s mother behind him. Simeon armed himself with patience. Another battle began. He let the old man holler, threaten gods and demons, and say terrible things about the bride-to-be and the child she was expecting. Afterward, Vassilis Kouyoumdzis the elder looked at his son, who observed him silently with arms crossed.

  “So?” he roared, growing less certain in the face of Simeon’s unexpected reaction. “Do you have nothing to say?”

  His son rose and, without hurrying, stood in front of him, fixing him with his gaze. His tone was calm but decisive. “I was waiting for you to finish before I tell you exactly what’s going to happen. Vassilis will marry the girl he got pregnant, and they’ll come to live with us. He’ll work as usual at the shop, and I’ll gradually withdraw from the business, as will you. It’s time for us to hand over our kingdom. And when the girl comes here, we’ll treat her with the respect due a firstborn son’s wife who will give us our first grandchild. If you don’t like that, tell me now, and I’ll take my family to live somewhere else.”

  “You dare speak to me like that?” said his father, shocked.

  “I don’t like it either, but there’s no other way. It took me too long to stand up to you, and we all saw what good came of it. But no more! I won’t let even worse things happen.”

  Silence followed his words. Roza stopped crying, and Simeon’s father turned around and left, his mother running after him as usual. Simeon straightened his back and left the room too, without saying a word.

  The wedding of Vassilis Kouyoumdzis and Lefkothea Yerimoglou took place a little before Lent. The groom’s family didn’t spare a penny. At Roza’s instigation, the bride acquired a completely new wardrobe, and since there was no time to have a bridal gown made, they altered Roza’s. Simeon knew his wife’s egotism would help ensure all was done correctly. He understood that if she accepted her daughter-in-law and began to present her in society, nobody would dare to say a thing. She threw a party before the wedding to present her, and dragged her along to all the gatherings she herself attended.

  During all this, Roza realized that many of the things she told people to praise Lefkothea for were true. The girl was very polite, and she showed great respect for her mother-in-law. She developed a special relationship with her husband’s siblings. Even better, she was a good influence on their son. Vassilis stopped going out all night and went back to his work as before. When Lefkothea moved into the house after the wedding, it became apparent that she was also a good housewife and, despite her young age, an accomplished cook. Her sweets in particular amazed everyone. In the end, Roza yielded completely, and accepted that Lefkothea was the best she could hope for for her son. Only the grandfather didn’t give up an inch. He did his best to ignore Lefkothea. When he couldn’t, he spat out his words with disdain. His disrespect made Vassilis tighten his lips and his fists, but Lefkothea would look at him pleadingly and he’d back down.

  Another Simeon Kouyoumdzis came into the world one evening in October of that year, when it was raining cats and dogs. They had sat down to eat, and every so often a thunderclap made them jump in their seats. Lefkothea couldn’t swallow a bite, and Roza was the first to notice.

  “Daughter-in-law, why aren’t you eating?” she asked.

  “I can’t, Mother, I—”

  Her voice was cut off by the pain, and all of them froze. Roza recovered first. She turned sharply to her son.

  “Go, Vassilis! Take Lefkothea to her bed, then run and bring the doctor and the midwife. Penelope, run and put a pot of water on to boil! Aristos, help them!”

  She left her mother-in-law out of her instructions, despite the fact that the older woman had already stood up. The woman looked at her husband, who was eating his food as if no
thing had happened, and for the first time in the fifty years of their marriage, she raised her voice to him. “And you, are you going to just sit there?” she asked sharply.

  “What do you want me to do?” he replied moodily.

  “I don’t know! Your great-grandchild is coming. What’s the matter with you, Vassilis? Aren’t you ashamed? What’s the girl done to you? She brings you whatever you want, she’s polite to you, and you—”

  “Woman, spare me!”

  “No! You spare us! If you don’t understand happiness when it hits you on the head, then you’re not a human being!”

  He jumped up and looked at her angrily, but he didn’t manage to speak because his wife couldn’t be held back.

  “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not afraid of you anymore. My soul has been disgusted for so long! You walk around here like some rooster and think you’re accomplishing something. Pull yourself together, Vassilis. You should know we put up with your anger like we’d put up with a madman. For now, go to your room so you don’t spoil everyone’s happiness.”

  The old woman was out of breath with the effort of saying more than she’d ever said, perhaps, in the whole length of her marriage. Roza had stood frozen in place, and Simeon, who had just come downstairs and heard everything, couldn’t believe his ears.

  “Penelope went upstairs with Lefkothea, and Aristos has come down to keep an eye on the boiling water,” Simeon said numbly.

  “I’m going to bring towels and sheets,” Roza said as if she were in a dream.

  The grandfather looked at all of them and then left. After a few moments, they heard his door close with a bang.

  “I’m going to the girl,” said the grandmother simply, and shuffled out.

  “How about that!” said Roza as soon as they were alone.

  “If someone had told me, I’d never have believed it!” Simeon said. “Was that really my mother?”

  “What can I say? I guess the pot boiled over at last. Enough now! I’m going to fetch what’s needed.”

  Vassilis arrived with the doctor and the midwife, and they shut themselves in the bedroom. The men waited in the living room. Vassilis busied himself wearing out the carpet with his pacing while Simeon, sitting on the couch, kept on tapping his fingers on the dark velvet upholstery. Aristos, the calmest of all, thoughtfully served them a little brandy, though he failed at his first attempt. A piercing cry from the young bride made him jump, and the glass he was carrying fell out of his hands and smashed to pieces. Silent, the three men counted the minutes with their eyes glued to the big clock. The hands didn’t seem to be moving, yet every now and then, the clock contradicted them as its musical sound struck the hours and half hours. Aside from the chimes, the quiet was broken only by Lefkothea’s cries, which became more and more piercing.