Happy (11 page)

the door.

“We love it,” Peter replied without hesitation. “What about the

furniture?”

“I’m taking some of it with me, but the rest can stay, or I’ll put it in

storage if you don’t want it.”

Louie still wasn’t convinced. It was a lot of money, and with only the

one bedroom, he wouldn’t even be able to have a roommate. “It’s at the top

of my budget.”

“For the right tenant, I might be willing to negotiate. I need someone

I can trust. Tammy likes you, and I trust her judgment.”

Tammy had known him a week, Louie wanted to point out. He

wouldn’t put too much stock in her judgment.

“And to be honest,” Sandra continued, “I would feel better leasing to

a couple than a single person.”

Peter’s arm wrapped around his shoulders, taking Louie by surprise.

“Guess it’s a lucky day for all of us, then.”

SEVEN

“What is this?”

Peter stiffened at his father’s deep baritone. Last time he’d checked,

his dad had a heart condition, not vision problems, which meant he wasn’t

happy. “It’s our new sign,” Peter said patiently as Kosta joined him out in

front of the restaurant. He’d hoped to have everything done before Pop got

in, but the installers were still rerouting the lighting over the sign. “Doesn’t

it look good?” He was particularly proud of the design—raw steel letters

mounted on a background of weathered barn board. The effect was both

rustic and modern. Perfect.

“I don’t like.”

Peter’s heart sank. Would he ever do anything right in his dad’s eyes?

“You pay money for this? I can make in garage. What was wrong with

the old one?” Kosta’s white, bushy eyebrows drew together. He tilted back

the peak of the black fisherman’s cap he wore. Even in the height of summer

he wore that damned cap, his fringe of white hair poking out from beneath.

“It was almost as old as me, Pop. Time for a new one.”

The scowl deepened. “So. It is old, not broken. You don’t throw out

just because is old.”

“You could barely read it anymore.”

“Bah, who cares for signs? They come for food.”

“You’re wrong, Pop. Half the restaurant business is marketing

these days.”

Kosta flapped a hand. “Thirty years I’ve been in this business. I think

I know what customers want. Good food is good food.”

Peter threw up his hands. “So what, Pop? Do you want me to take it

down and put the old one back up? Is that it? Huh?”

Kosta grunted. “And throw away more money? Who will want a sign

with my name?”

Peter swore under his breath as his father hitched his pants up over

his stomach and went back inside. He couldn’t do anything right, it seemed.

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63

A chuckle from his right drew his attention. Peter hadn’t noticed the

man in the chef’s coat who was smoking and leaning against one of the

many planters dotting the street, but he recognized him as the chef-owner

of the new place next door. The one specializing in modern Mediterranean

cuisine. Thanos Something-or-other. There had been a write-up in the

weekly neighborhood paper about him.

“I remember working for my dad,” he said.

“Yeah? How’d that work out?”

“About as well as for you. We fought like cats and dogs. That’s why I

had to branch out on my own.” He stubbed out his cigarette and approached.

“If it’s any consolation, I like it—your sign. You’ve got a good eye.”

“Thanks,” Peter replied. Too bad his dad hadn’t heard that.

“If you get tired of working for the old man, let me know. I could use

someone with your skills.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I’m serious. Business is taking off. That last review was golden for

us. My wife handles the front-of-house and management stuff, but we’re

expecting our first kid. I’m going to need a new manager soon.”

Peter didn’t know what to say.

“Of course you’d still have to interview for it. My business partner

would want to meet you.” Thanos clapped him on the back. “But think

about it.”

“I will.”

He was still thinking about it hours later. Was Thanos really serious?

More importantly, could he leave his dad on his own? Three years after his

dad’s heart attack, Peter could still see his pop’s pale, drawn figure in the

hospital bed, feel that clutch of fear in his chest at the realization his immortal

parents were just flesh and blood. His father was an ox, not this old and fragile

man. His mother, a rock as formidable and immovable as the Acropolis, had

sobbed in his arms. That was the moment his whole life had changed.

As a kid, he’d been awed by and a little afraid of his dad—definitely

intimidated. Kosta may have been short and round, but he was not the least

bit cuddly. “Solid” was the word that sprang to mind. He’d once seen his

dad single-handedly hang an entire goat on a spit in the backyard as if it

weighed nothing.

Peter didn’t recall much about their arrival in Canada—he was only

two years old at the time—but he’d known right away that his dad wasn’t

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64

like his new friends’ dads. He didn’t take Peter to the zoo, he didn’t come to

football games or even to his high school graduation. The damned restaurant

was more Kosta’s child than Peter had ever been, and Peter had been a little

jealous of it. In fact, the only time he saw his dad was at church, and then

later, when Peter started working in the restaurant himself.

He thought he understood it a bit more now. He had let go of some of

his resentment. His parents had built something from the ground up. They

wanted to give him what they never had, even if he didn’t want it. But as he

grew up, he sometimes wondered if they had ever been happy. They never

talked if they could yell. They rarely laughed and almost never touched, at

least not affectionately. Sometimes Peter imagined them lying side by side

in their bed like strangers, an invisible barrier down the middle. Then he

imagined the same for himself.

Peter shook off his depressing thoughts and returned his focus to

Thanos’s job offer.

He should ask Louie’s opinion.

Louie.

Four days after the apartment hunting trip, Peter was trying to figure

out how he could arrange to hang out with Louie again without it seeming

creepy or weird. Joe and Adam had plans to go out of town for the upcoming

long weekend, and Demetra seemed to be avoiding him lately. He was tired

of being on his own. But while he and Louie had texted back and forth all

week and even managed to meet up for coffee once, Peter still hadn’t been

able to broach the topic. No matter how he phrased it in his head, it still

always sounded like he was asking for a date.

He’d never had this problem before.

There was nothing odd about two single guys hanging out. And yet

his stomach cramped every time he thought about it. He’d had such a good

time on the weekend. This connection he felt with Louie was almost like

the one he’d had with Joe and Adam before they became so wrapped up in

each other and forgot about him. Louie was fun to be around, easy to talk

to. They had a ton of stuff in common. And of course there was this other

thing. This other thing that made his heart jump every time his phone pinged

with a new text. It was the other thing that kept him from making the call

he wanted to.

When he was with Louie, he felt… good—freer, lighter. The
him
he

used to be way back when. And playing Louie’s boyfriend? Well, that role

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65

had fit far too easily. In the back of his mind he knew he was playing with

fire, but he couldn’t help himself.

“Uh, Peter. You might want to switch it up now.”

Peter started at the sound of Annie’s voice so close. When he looked

down, he’d scrubbed a perfect sparkling circle on the flattop grill. The rest

of it however, was still a greasy mess. “Shit.”

Annie laughed. “What’s got you so frowny again?”

He scowled as he scrubbed out his frustrations. “Don’t you have better

things to do than watch me?”

“Uh, hello.” She gestured to the nearly empty restaurant.

By eight o’clock on this Wednesday night, there was only one table still

occupied, and they had flipped the sign in the window to Closed. Midweek

evenings were always slower—most customers preferred to grab takeout on

their way home to dining in. He could hardly blame them.

His mother had stopped by after her weekly bible study group to do

some inventory, and she was in the back room, leaving him and Annie to

start cleaning up. Pop was off at his social club—an empty storefront owned

by a family friend, where old men hung out reading the paper, smoking until

the air was blue, and watching soccer on satellite.

The bell over the door rang, startling them both. “We’re closed,” they

chorused in unison.

“I hope you’ll make an exception for me,” Demetra entreated as she

sauntered in, bringing with her a cloud of perfume and hairspray.

Annie made a great show of coughing, and Peter silenced her with

a glare before stepping out from behind the counter and greeting Demetra

with a hug and kiss. “What are you doing here?”

“Do I need an excuse?” she teased. “We haven’t seen much of each

other lately. I thought I’d stop by and remedy that. Remind you which

Papadakis you’re dating. Can you take a break?”

“Good timing,” he murmured in her ear. “Ma’s still here.”

As if summoned, his mother barreled out of the back office and

enveloped Demetra in a welcoming hug. He didn’t even wonder how

she had known of Demetra’s arrival. “Demetra, darling. It is so good to

see you.”

“You too, Mrs. Georgiou.” Demetra winked at Peter over his mom’s

shoulder. “Your hair looks great. Have you done something different?”

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66

His mother preened at the compliment. She hadn’t changed her

hairstyle in thirty years. Peter rolled his eyes. Demetra was laying it on

thick tonight.

“I’m just going to take a short break, Ma. Is that okay?”

“Of course, of course,” she assured him with an eager grin. Things

had been tense between them since the scene with Louie. He hadn’t quite

forgiven her yet. But now that Demetra was here, she was all smiles and

graciousness. “You go.”

Permission granted, he ushered Demetra to the farthest table, where

they would be able to talk in relative privacy. Then he went back to the bar,

poured her a glass of the Greek Moschofilero wine she liked, and grabbed a

bottle of sparkling water for himself.

“Do you want some food?” Peter handed her the wine.

“This is fine.”

His mother beamed at them from behind the cash register, where she

pretended to be tidying the surrounding countertop. Feeling as though he

were under surveillance, he returned his gaze to Demetra and tried to elicit

some sort of excitement at seeing her.

Things would be much easier if he was attracted to her.

“So Louie says he had a good time with you last weekend,” she said.

Peter coughed as his water went down his throat the wrong way. “Uh,

me too.”

“It sounds like this new place is great. Too bad he has to wait another

couple of weeks until he can move in.”

“He got the downtown condo?”
Why hadn’t Louie told him?
He’d

been the one who had encouraged it. Peter tried to ignore the way that hurt.

“Yeah. He just found out,” Demetra said. She reached across the table

and took his hand. Peter started at the unexpected gesture. “I meant to say

something before. I know we didn’t talk about it, but thank you for spending

so much time with him. That was a great idea.”

Demetra thought he spent time with Louie because of
her
? “I
like

Louie,” he insisted.

“I’m glad you’re cool with… you know.”

Peter stiffened. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Your folks are even more traditional than mine. And my dad

went ballistic when Louie came out—kicked him out of the house and

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67

everything. Luckily, Louie had already planned on leaving. That’s when

he went to Vancouver.”

Unease gripped Peter by the throat. “I didn’t know it was that bad.”

“Oh it was bad,” Demetra said, idly stroking his fingers. More than

anything he wanted to yank his hand back, but there were too many prying

eyes watching, so he just gritted his teeth. “It’s still not great, so we don’t

discuss it much.” Demetra gave a small smile. “Anyway, Louie needs more

friends. He’s been pretty down since the breakup. All he does is mope

around the house.”

Peter was dying to know more. Louie had hinted at a relationship, but

he hadn’t felt brave enough to pry. He made a sympathetic noise. “What

happened?”

“Louie doesn’t talk about it. Why would he? He doesn’t tell us

anything. All I know is the boyfriend was very closeted. I guess he ran in

some influential circles or something. He wouldn’t introduce Louie to any