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"Ignore him and flirt with a man who'll adore you."
Oenone tied red ribbons around the rosemary sprigs, stepped upon a stool and reached up to hang them from the rafters to dry. "You've taught me to see too much."
"Impossible."
"No, I see what a young man will become, and how a thick middle will one day be a huge belly that will surely crush his wife beneath him."
"Truly a man to avoid," Chrisoula agreed. "But a thin man can fall ill and die too soon and leave you with children to raise alone."
"Any man could die, but some are too short and have such large feet I can't help but laugh when I see them waddling my way."
"Be kind," Chrisoula chided. She pulled the string tight on a bag of juniper berries and added it to the herbs hanging overhead. "Look for a man who makes you laugh."
"I enjoy laughing as much as any girl, but I'll never be drawn to an amusing ugly man."
"I've seen such men with beautiful wives, so not every girl shares your opinion."
Oenone sat down on the stool and brushed off her hands. "I'm sorry I never knew my uncle. You must have loved him dearly."
Chrisoula drew in a deep breath and sighed softly. "He was as handsome as a god and always thoughtful and kind. He had the most beautiful voice and could make everyone cry with a sad song or laugh with a happy tune. I will miss him until the day I die."
"You could not save him?"
"He was thrown from his horse and dead when I found him. I held him all night and kissed him good-bye in the morning. Another has never touched my heart, but you are of an age to have a husband, and we must widen our search to find you a good man."
Oenone loved the scent of rosemary and held a branch close to her cheek. "Now we are where we began. I want Paris, but he will take too many years to be grown."
"A cruel trick of fate. Perhaps he'll surprise you."
Oenone was far too practical a girl to cling to such an unlikely hope.
* * *
"When should a man begin building his house?" Paris asked his father. "If he waits until he finds a girl to wed, he'll have nothing to show her, but if he begins building early, he'll have no time for courting."
Agelaus nodded thoughtfully. "A perplexing problem indeed. I've always hoped you'd build your house close to ours. Let's look at the land and decide where a good place would be."
Paris took a backwards step. "I didn't say I was ready to begin."
"You needn't start building today, Son, let's just look for an appealing site. You don't want to be too close, but you shouldn't be too far away either."
They walked over land they had traversed for years, this time with new eyes. "This rise provides a pleasant view of the valley," Paris offered.
"True, and wood you'll need for doors, windows and to frame the roof won't be too difficult to haul from the pine forest."
"Gathering rocks for the foundation will be a chore," Paris complained, "and it might take a year to make enough mud brick for the walls."
"You'll need thatch for the roof," his father added. "We'll trade for whatever you need."
Paris pulled in a deep breath. "Did you build our house?"
Agelaus chuckled at the memory. "You were too small to remember, but I did, with a great deal of help from men in the village. They'll help again for beef."
"I own no cattle," Paris reminded him.
"Our herd will all be yours when I'm gone," Agelaus offered. "You're welcome to all you'll need now."
"Thank you." Paris studied the land and wondered how one went about planning a home so nothing was forgotten. "I could learn to build furniture," he murmured.
