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In the past, he would have explained this response as a result of his wife’s attitude toward his mother, and as such would have had a talk with his wife, expecting her to fix it. But recent insights had made him less quick to jump to that as the solution.
He would watch the way his mother, and his sister, interacted with his daughter.
And over the course of the next hours,
he noticed things he had never noticed before.
Not only in the way his mother and sister related to his daughter, but in the very established patterns of their behavior toward his wife.
Even after the very serious warning he’d given his sister, she poked at Pollyanna, though admittedly without ever crossing the line to actual rudeness. Many of her comments had more than one meaning so she could claim easy deniability in the intent to offend.
“I don’t understand why we couldn’t keep dinners as they were. It’s tradition. If Anna isn’t up to joining us, surely you could have come on your own,” Stacia said to him as they all relaxed on the terrace with after-luncheon drinks.
Pollyanna, though dressed as elegantly for lunch as the other women, played on the lawn with their daughter, Petros and Corrina joining them for a game of croquet that Alexandros realized he regretted not being a part of.
Every time it was Helena’s turn to swing the mallet nearly as tall as she was, Petros stepped in to help her. On Helena’s first turn, Pollyanna had moved as if to help, but Petros had said something and done so. No doubt realizing a pregnant woman didn’t need to be bending over a toddler trying to navigate the mallet swing.
And Alexandros realized he wanted to be there, his arms around his daughter, playing with his family.
“She is my wife, which makes Pollyanna part of this family. Excluding her from family dinners because of her pregnancy, of all things, seems to defeat the purpose, don’t you think?” They were Greek. They were Kristalakis. Family was paramount.
How did his sister think it was even acceptable to ask such a question?
His father would turn in his grave if he knew the attitude Stacia had toward the mother of the family’s first grandchild of this generation.
“Your father started the tradition of family dinners on Sunday when I expressed a desire to have a set time for our family to be together, no matter what business the week might include,” his mother said wistfully. “It is not so easy to give up something that makes me feel like he is still with us.”
A week ago, Alexandros would have given in immediately to the subtle guilt trip, but he was on a rescue bid for his marriage and his parents’ traditions could not supersede what was best for him and his wife.
Stacia and his mother wore twin expressions of expectation as they looked at him. Like they had no doubt his mother’s words would change his mind about the new order of things.
“You and the rest of the family are still welcome to have your Sunday evening dinners, but I am a married man with a child and I should have stopped attending when Helena was born. Naturally, my wife and child should come first for me, should always have come first.”
“You and your wife do not need to live in each other’s pockets,” his mother chided gently.
“Is that what you told my father? Only I remember you being very adamant that he spend those Sunday evenings with us, even if he was too busy the rest of the week.”
His mother said nothing, her expression startled. Like she hadn’t expected him to argue.
“Or are you implying that my wife and my daughter should be less important to me than you and our family were to my father?” he asked, beginning to realize the answer to that question was not always what he had assumed it was.
Alexandros had always believed that his mother respected his marriage and role as a father because of the expectations she had placed on his own father. Because family was everything.
But then, had he treated his wife and daughter like they were everything to him?
He wasn’t sure he wanted to acknowledge the true answer to that question either.
“Of course I am not implying that,” his mother said, but with a lack of conviction even Alexandros at his most blind could not have missed.
“Why didn’t you ever suggest a change to our family dinners so you could see your granddaughter on a weekly basis?” he asked his mother.
“I already told you, I found our Sunday dinners a sentimental gathering I did not want to do without.”
“Not even if it meant seeing your only grandchild?”
“Your wife could have arranged to bring the baby to visit,” Stacia said with clear criticism.
“Surely it would have been easier for you to visit here,” Alexandros said to his mother. “You were the one who suggested I move my pregnant wife out of the busy crowds of Athens.”
