Nicolai's Daughters (32 page)

Okay, maybe he hasn't had that many women. Maybe it's all just talk. Maybe it's going to be okay. You can only fool yourself so long, she thought. But it was all she could do right now. At least, I'm on the pill, she told herself. I don't have to worry about that.

She threw the sheets off and swung her feet to the floor. The room began to spin. Her stomach rumbled. She held her head in her hands until the dizziness passed. She had to eat. Get moving, she told herself. Sitting around feeling sorry for herself wasn't going to change a thing.

Alexia walked down a couple of steps, then stopped to listen for any sound. Nothing. Christina wasn't at the sink washing dishes or at the stove stirring a pot of soup. Maybe she was in the garden. She probably wants to avoid me as much as I want to avoid her, Alexia thought.

She walked into the kitchen and saw him. Solon sat at the table with his back to her. He sipped his coffee. The paper lay untouched beside him. Maybe he hadn't heard her come down. She might still have a chance to get back upstairs before he noticed.

“This is no good,” he said.

“What are you doing home,
Thio
?”

He didn't turn. “Today is Good Friday. We do not work. We pay our respects to the one who suffered for us, sacrificed his life for us.” He cradled a cup in his large hands, brought it to his mouth, but didn't take a drink. He seemed smaller to her, his whiskers made his face look grey.

“I'd forgotten.”

“You have too much on your mind,” he said.

She walked to the counter, trying to act normal. Maybe he didn't know anything about what had happened with Christina. “Do you want me to make you another coffee?” she asked, turning to face him.

“The coffee is fine,” he said. “These bad feelings between you and Christina are not.” He put his cup down.

Christina had either told him or he'd overheard them last night. Alexia wasn't going to say a thing until she figured out what he knew. Then, if she had to, she'd mount a defence. There was no way to explain what she'd done, not even to herself. But if Solon pushed her, she'd come up with a story. She always did.

“She will not tell me what happened. I do not like to see her hurt.” He didn't look at her. “No good.”

She stared at her bare feet. They were cold.

His voice was a whisper as if he was talking to himself. “When I first married Christina, my family did not like her. She did everything to please them and still they thought she was not good enough. Her own family was not perfect, but I told her over and over again, I was not marrying them. She wanted everything to be good because I guess she did not have this in her family. But life is not this way. People make mistakes, others talk. Who cares? Everything passes and we go on.” He took a sip of his coffee, put the cup down. “Shame.” He turned to face her. “We Greeks are strange. Our only purpose in life is to avoid it,” he said, shaking his head. “This is what is wrong with us. Look at what happens now with the economy. People would rather kill themselves than ask their family for help. We never have this before. It is against our religion. It is against everything we know. But people do it now. They kill themselves. Our need to avoid shame runs very deep.”

He was right. Isn't that what she'd always done? She kept up a stupid façade of being perfect. Her father bragged to his friends and colleagues about her all the time. “Alexia has never gotten into any trouble, never given me one thing to worry about. She has her head on right.” He never knew about her affairs. It was so damn hard to be so good all the time. She sometimes wished she could screw up big time and have him find out about it. Just once to see what he would do.

Solon got up and put his cup in the sink. As he walked past her, he lay his hand on her shoulder and gazed into her eyes. “If it is about Theodora, do what you think is right. We will survive. Talk to Christina and fix it. She only wants for you not to be hurt.”

He pinched her cheek the way he did with small children. His eyes were soft and forgiving.

He closed the door behind him. Alexia sat in his chair. It was warm. Maybe these people could accept her just the way she was. She shook her head. She had to talk to Christina. Then, she'd talk to Theodora. She wasn't going to continue to lie to her about who she was and what she was doing in Greece. She owed her that much at least.

Alexia folded the last shirt in the pile of clean clothes on the bed. The laundry was done and her bed remade. She swept the floor in her room, then went downstairs and knocked the sand out of her shoes, threw them outside on the front step and swept the stairs, the hallway and kitchen to make sure she'd gotten rid of everything she had tramped in. She scrubbed the kitchen counter and washed down the cupboard doors. She picked up the statue of the Acropolis and the tiny doll dressed in traditional Greek folk costume in the living room, dusted them and set them back. It was needless work, but it gave her time to think about what she would say to Christina. She'd apologize, tell her she'd been stupid to get involved with Achilles. It was over. Christina didn't have to worry. She would tell her to stop blaming herself for what had happened between Nicolai and Dimitria. And finally, she'd set down why she was going to tell Theodora the truth.

She lay down on her bed, arms behind her head, to wait.

The door scuffed against the floor downstairs. Alexia sat up. Time to face the music. Start with an apology, she told herself. That's always a good way. Christina is probably too mad to listen. Maybe if I act like nothing happened, it'd be better. Maybe we could go back to the way we were. When has that ever worked for this family? Don't be an idiot. Stop trying to find an easy fix, a quick solution that you think would make everyone happy. That doesn't work. Do the right thing. A teacher had told her once, “You know how to stick to your guns, you're stubborn that way. That's good. Life shouldn't beat that out of you.”

She took the stairs two at a time and came to an abrupt stop on the bottom step. Katarina's shopping cart sat in the middle of the narrow hallway. Christina bobbed into the cart, grabbed a bag. Katarina took a few more bags out of the cart. “If we move the cart to one side, I can help,” Alexia said.

Christina didn't respond.

Alexia wondered if they'd heard her. “I can help,” she tried again.

“Ah, Alexia,” Katarina said. “Christina, let's move the cart closer to the door.”

“It is fine where it is,” Christina said.

Katarina caught Alexia's eye and shrugged.

Alexia reached over and tapped Christina's back. She moved forward and Alexia squeezed through. She reached for the bag in Christina's hand.

“I have it,” Christina said. She walked into the kitchen, the bag tucked in close.

Alexia stood, her arms still reaching open in front of her.

“You could put your shoes away. We nearly fell over them. One of us could have broken a leg.” Christina took the watermelon out of the bag and put it on the table.

“It was nothing,” Katarina said. “I saw your shoes. There was no danger.” She laced two bags around each of Alexia's wrists. “Be careful. Don't let them drop.”

Alexia adjusted the bags so she held them in her hands and walked into the kitchen. “Where do you want these?” she asked.

Christina leaned over the counter. She made a choking sound.

“Are you all right,
Thia
?”

Christina began coughing hard, pointed to the table.

Alexia put the bags on the table and returned to Christina's side. She rubbed her back. “Why don't you sit down?”

Christina allowed herself to be led to the chair, her back and shoulders stiff and heaving.

“She bought many things,” Katarina said. “Easter is important to us.”

Alexia got a glass out of the cupboard, filled it with water and handed it to Christina.

She coughed into her handkerchief. Alexia held the glass for her. The coughing subsided. Christina took the glass. She wiped away a tear. Her eyes closed as she sipped water. Her jaw was very stiff, her cheeks soft.

Katarina brought in the rest of the bags. “She will be okay once she rests. She worries too much. This is what happens.”

Alexia pulled out the zucchini from one of the bags. “I can put everything away,” Alexia said. She put the zucchini on the table.

“But you don't know.” Christina said. She stood up. “I will do it.”

“I will follow your instructions.” Alexia met Christina's eyes. “I will.”

“This is my work.” Christina grabbed the zucchini from the table and threw it into one of her vegetable baskets. She worked around Alexia.

Alexia watched her. “I can put the cake in the fridge.”

“Fine. Okay.”

“I don't know why she bought it,” Katarina said.

“For Easter.”

“But you're planning to make cookies and pies and a cake too.” Katarina stood with her hands on her hips.

“The store-bought one is better,” Christina said. “Bought is always better.”

“It isn't.” Katarina shook her head, her arms by her sides. “We've told her.”

“These are the things that families say to one another to be polite.” She took another sip of water, grabbed the handkerchief in her pocket and wiped her face. Her colour began to return.

“She bought the Canadian flour today for baking,” Katarina said. “It's the only time she buys it because it is too expensive here. But it is the best.”

“Why didn't you tell me,
Thia
? I could have brought some from Canada.”

“The two of you are in my way,” Christina said. “I have many things to do to prepare for tonight and the church. The dinner we will have tomorrow to break the fast.”

“Don't pay attention to her this weekend, Alexia,” Katarina said. “She gets nervous and worried and isn't her real self around Easter. She wants everything to be just so.”

Christina threw her hands at Katarina. “I have work. Go.” She turned her back.

“I can help you.” Alexia touched Christina's forearm.

“This is my kitchen,” Christina said. She turned on the water, grabbed the sliver of soap in the dish beside the sink and scrubbed her hands.

“But you could teach me some of these things.”

“Not today,” Christina said. She bit at one of her wet sleeves and pushed it up.

Katarina shook her head. “This is a good time for us to leave.” Katarina put a hand on Alexia's shoulder. “Stay out of her way and things will get better.” She dragged her cart outside and turned to shut the door behind them. “What happened?” She leaned into Alexia.

Alexia righted her overturned shoes and slipped into them. “I don't know.”

“Don't worry.” Katarina pinched her cheeks. “Go for a walk. It will pass.”

The store windows were full of hand-made candles decorated with flowers, eggs and ribbons. They were part of the Easter celebration. People bought them as gifts to be taken to the Saturday night church service. They would be lit after midnight on Saturday night once the priest had made his declaration:
Christos Anesti
. Christ has risen. Then Easter would begin. Chocolate bunnies sat in refrigerators in the bakery window. Alexia wanted to enjoy the celebration. How could she relax when things weren't right with Christina?

There were more people in town this weekend than she'd seen before. Christina had told her that Greeks return to their village at Easter to spend time with family and friends.

A couple on the sidewalk in front of the bakery smiled at Alexia, between them a child of about five or six. Each held one of her hands, swinging her back and forth. The child laughed. Alexia gulped down tears.

A breeze gusted, catching her skirt. She held it down, walked past the couple and their child, her eyes fixed in the distance. She had that once. Her father's family was not going to be a replacement. Christina was never going to forgive her. Never. Run, a voice in her head said. Run now. Getting away had saved her in the past. Go back to what you know. Work and more work.

Alexia grabbed the cell phone out of her jacket and punched the numbers.

He picked up after the first ring. “You okay?” he asked.

Had he expected her call? She pressed on. “I think I've had enough of this place.”

“What's going on, kiddo?” he asked, his voice soft. Where was that formal tone? She pictured him setting his file aside, sitting back in his leather chair. She heard some movement. Someone was probably at his office door and he was holding his hand up to stop them from coming in. She shook her head. She knew better. Dan was too driven to allow her problems to interfere with work.

She listened to his breathing and pictured him lacing his hair through his fingers. She smiled for the first time since last night.

She walked up the boardwalk along the beach, changed her mind and jumped down onto the sand. She cleared her throat. Why won't he say anything? Her hands were damp. She started talking just to fill the dead air. And then she couldn't stop herself. She told him about her father, his dying wish, about what she was doing in Greece, how she'd met and befriended Theodora, but hadn't told her the truth about who she was. She caught herself over and over again talking about Christina, what she did for her, her funny expressions, all the things that made her laugh. “I don't know if my aunt will ever talk to me again.”

“Wow,” he said.

“I'm so sorry,” she said, suddenly realizing what she'd done. Why had she told him so much?

“What for?”

“Laying all of this on you,” she said. “I didn't mean to.”

He interrupted her. “Hey,” he said. “It's a lot to deal with. Even for you.”

She heard more rustling and she knew he was likely shuffling paper and wanted to get back to work. “I should let you go, you're busy.” She sat down on the sand, took off her shoes. She sank into the sand. It gave in to her, making her feel warm.