AllFreeNovel
Share Us
With a sigh, Simon refilled his glass. “Dad, it’s— I’m—” What could he say about this that he hadn’t already said a dozen times? And then the truth came to him. “I see you and Mom together, and how right it seems to me, and I want that. But it hasn’t felt right with anyone.”
“It didn’t feel that way at first.”
“What do you mean?”
“You mother and I were introduced before the wedding as a courtesy. It was expected that we’d marry. I resisted, she flat-out refused.”
“What?”
“It’s true. It was arranged and we both balked.”
Simon was disconcerted by this wholly unexpected piece of news. “But you got married?”
Nick laughed. “Are you asking, or…”
“That shouldn’t have sounded so much like a question. You got married. How?”
“She and I met secretly to plan how to get out of the situation. One thing led to another… we decided it might not be such a bad idea after all. It was a bit rocky at first, though, at least until I learned that your mother was the boss.” He grinned and sipped his wine. “That’s a piece of advice I hope you’ll heed,” he told Simon. “If you find a good woman, one who is smart and kind, let her have her way on the small things, and work with her on the big ones. You can’t ever go wrong.”
“See? How do I find a woman like that?” Simon asked.
“Open your damn eyes. They’re everywhere. The world is full of them.”
“I haven’t found any.”
“I don’t think you treat them as if you think they’re good women.” Simon’s father was rarely that blunt-spoken about Simon’s shortcomings, so this assessment was particularly damning. He withdrew from the conversation by calling the waiter over and ordering some lunch. Nick didn’t press him on anything, but he did say that he wasn’t very hungry, and was going to take a stroll. He left Simon sitting alone at the table, feeling fretful and misunderstood. There was time. If he needed to find his own way, why shouldn’t he take the time to make certain he was making the right choices?
He also thought it was unfair of his father to imply that Simon’s relationships failed because they were shallow. He’d tried to make Marissa happy. Hadn’t he bought her a ton of expensive gifts? Hadn’t he taken her everywhere she’d wanted to go? Hadn’t they lived an amazing life together? That flirtation with Gretchen was a misstep, true, but a good woman would have heard him out, perhaps given him a hard time — and he admitted he deserved that much; he behaved stupidly when he drank too much — and then made him swear there’d be no more of that nonsense. She wouldn’t have torn into him in front of his friends and then left him like that.
He ate a little of the fish he’d ordered, but he wasn’t very hungry either, so he pushed it around the plate for a while, feeling sullen and unappreciated. He’d begun to be sorry that he had suggested this trip. He had enough tuxes to go to a dozen weddings, and anyway he didn’t really want to go to this one. A friend of his was marrying one of Simon’s distant cousins, though, and Simon had been asked to be part of the bridal party. He couldn’t very well get out of going.
But now, with Marissa gone, he didn’t even have a date. Going stag was the worst. He’d have to dance with a bunch of homely cousins, all of whom were looking for husbands. Simon wondered if he could come down with something that would keep him in bed on the day of the wedding. Food poisoning, perhaps, or the plague.
Not that his mother would allow it. Helena would throw a bucket of cold water on him if he tried to pretend to be sick. She’d done it to him in the past on several occasions, the most notable being the day he tried to get out of going to school to take an exam. She’d forced him to admit that he hadn’t studied, and then made him get dressed and go anyway. He got an F on the exam and when he complained, all she’d said was, “Then perhaps you’ll study next time, yes? You’ll have plenty of time now since you’re grounded for a week.”
When he complained about how unfair she was being, she’d made it two weeks. He hadn’t tried that again.
Her mother had left magazines strewn in Eirene’s path since the day she’d re turned home from school. They were filled with glossy photos of Simon Katsaros living it up on his yacht, in night clubs, or on the French Riviera with that skinny girlfriend of his, the Italian model. Welcome home, Eirene, here’s the boy we want you to marry! That was the message, of course. No question. Her mother was a great believer in propaganda. Simon’s picture stared up at her from the breakfast table, tales of his high life waited for her by the pool, and even followed her into the bathroom where a stack of glossy magazines and entertainment rags were piled on top of her more usual travel magazines. Eirene hadn’t seen Simon since she was twelve, but she was sick to death of the sight of him.
“Oh my, Simon’s girlfriend has walked out on him,” Eirene’s mother, Thea, exclaimed as Eirene walked through the sun room on her way out to the pool.
“What a surprise,” Eirene replied.
“I’m sure the poor boy could use some comforting.”
“Rebound relationships don’t ever work out well,” she said as she picked up a bottle of sun screen. “I wish his next woman luck.”
“Eirene, don’t you care one little bit?” Thea asked her.
“About Simon Katsaros? Mom the number of effs I give can be counted on the negative digits.”
“You know, the Katsaros family and the Dimitrios family planned for the two of you to be married one day.”
Tcha, sure, like that’ll happen, Eirene thought. To Thea she said, “Yes, Mom, I do know that. Thank God the days of selling your daughter to the highest bidder have not yet come to an end. What would happen to the economy? I’m going out for a swim.”
“Don’t forget the sun block!” Thea called after her and Eirene waved the bottle in the air.
Telling her parents that this marriage wasn’t going to happen hadn’t helped, so after a number of frustrating years, Eirene had opted for sarcasm which Thea didn’t get, but which Eirene’s father actually appreciated even if he didn’t accept what it was she was saying. He’d laugh and say, “You’re your father’s daughter all right,” And almost with the same breath, he’d say, “I hope Simon likes sarcasm.”
