Aphrodite's Stand

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by Sandra Scott


  Looking off, she made a mental checklist of everyone’s whereabouts. “Jayson went home to change clothes. Afterward, he’s heading over to the church to discuss some things with the priest.” She waited for any sign of distress at the hint of preparing for his funeral, yet Stefano’s expression remained passive. “Papa George, Mama, and Racine are in the cafeteria, getting something to eat. Paulo and Sly are at your office, watching over things there.”

  Closing his eyes, Stefano remained quiet. Glancing at the heart monitor to make sure of a steady heartbeat, Andra decided to leave so he could get some rest.

  “I heard,” he said, forcing her to lower back into her seat. “That is, I understand you plan to use the money received from the Grainger estate to open a free clinic for the village?”

  Arching her right eyebrow, she looked at him. “Tell me—why did you bother to ask a question when you already know it’s true?” Smiling, she leaned forward to whisper in an exaggerated tone. “Who told you—our friend Sly?”

  A smile of confirmation broke out across his face.

  “That girl can’t keep anything inside that huge trap of hers.” Andra grinned at Stefano’s attempt at laughter. “Anyway, of course I’ve instructed a lawyer to transfer your company’s assets back into your family’s hands.”

  Stefano’s brief smile indicated he’d already known that information as well.

  “And yes, it’s true—I plan to liquidate the rest of Hog’s estate and sink it into the village, specifically the church and the village’s free clinic, where all that money can do some good.”

  His slight nod was difficult to perform. “That is most generous of you, Doctor.”

  She leaned forward to rest her chin on the bed’s guardrail. “Well, I’ve heard I’m not the only generous one around these parts.”

  Andra chuckled at his raised brow, which questioned her source. “Yes, once again, our little human message center said you have willed both her and Paulo your share of the Theonopilus business to be split equally between them.”

  Stefano’s paleness reddened when Andra studied him.

  “You are amazingly generous, my brother,” she said softly.

  He waved her statement away with a weak, humble hand. “It was the right thing to do. Both are exceptionally smart, and they have been around the business long enough to help Papa run it if—” He stopped.

  “If Jayson wants to follow his dream of being a full-time clergyman,” Andra said, finishing for him. She sighed, knowing the sound was similar to that of a schoolgirl in mid-crush. “Thank you, Stefano—for him and me.”

  Stefano opened his mouth to say something only to commence coughing.

  Alarmed as much at what he wanted to tell her as at his difficulty in breathing, she stood and reached for his frail hand. “Stefano, don’t talk. Save it for later.”

  “I’m dying, Andra. Let me finally say what I feel.” He paused to catch another breath. “I must cleanse my soul of this so I may go to my mother not with a heart heavy with unspoken words, but a free one.”

  She braced herself and nodded.

  Turning away, Stefano looked toward the ceiling only to close his eyes. “I hated you.” He coughed weakly and cleared his throat. “At least I thought I hated you. But I came to realize I actually hated myself because of you.”

  Andra held her breath, wanting him to continue yet not wanting him to.

  “Most of us are just angry people living on borrowed time. I was.”

  She thought his words deeply profound. Grief-stricken, she watched him suck in a shallow breath and slowly blow it out.

  “You were so strange to me—and people tend to fear what they do not understand.” He coughed again, the sound feeble. “Fear sometimes turns to hate simply because one refuses to understand. Yet sometimes that hatred masks an emotion even more powerful than itself.” Stefano opened his eyes to gaze at her. “Come to me,” he commanded.

  As if in a trance, Andra rose next to his bed, her eyes gently beholding a person who’d come to mean a great deal to her. She paused, knowing what he wanted her to do without his saying a word. Lowering the bedside rail, she carefully climbed onto the bed and stretched out beside him on top of his covers.

  His arm encircled her body.

  Andra laid her head upon Stefano’s shoulder and snuggled close. She allowed him to take her right hand in his left, and he entwined his long fingers with hers.

  “This is much better; I wanted to feel you next to me as I cleanse my soul.” He lifted their fused hands and rotated them; his brow remained smooth as he contemplated their combined light-and-dark oneness. Momentarily, he broke their connection to open her hand and place it against his chest. “Do you feel my heart? You did that for me—taught it how to beat again.”

  Andra nodded against the thinness of his shoulder blade, shifting the slight bulge of her tummy to a more comfortable position. He slowly lifted his head, but after some effort, he allowed it to flop against the white pillow again.

  “So how is my nephew doing? Is he treating his mother well?”

  Andra graced him with a motherly smile. “Oh, he—or she—is kicking up a storm, giving me grief whenever possible. You know, like his uncle Stefano used to do.”

  “Good. I pray he—or she—will at least resemble his uncle. His presence will help you to remember me.”

  “Don’t worry, big brother—me forgetting you will never happen.”

  Silent minutes went by before she felt his chest lift slightly in a sigh.

  “Do you know Aphrodite is the Greek goddess of love, and depending upon how a man views her, she could be either his salvation or his curse? You, my sweet Aphrodite, were both to me.”

  Knowing Stefano didn’t want her to say anything, she used soft, unintelligible murmurs to let him know she listened.

  “Jayson is my brother, and I love him deeply. I would never do anything to hurt him. Yet despite my love for him, I could not fight against the power you had over me—and my love for you.”

  Andra closed her eyes against the potent pull of his words. She too loved Jayson, her sweet and caring husband—more than she could ever love another man. Still, she also knew there was a force—an invisible link—that continued to draw her to Stefano and vice versa.

  “There were so many times when your allure got the better of me—it nearly overshadowed my allegiance to Jayson. It created a desire within me for you. But I am glad you stood for your marriage and for my brother, Aphrodite, even though it was to my great loss.”

  She opened her eyes, experiencing a profound measure of respect for him. “Stefano, why?”

  “Why?”

  “Why do you love me?”

  Letting go of her hand, he enclosed her body within the complete circle of his arms. “Because Jayson made me see past your dark skin to the beautiful woman you truly are underneath.” He coughed once. “But again, I believe I already knew. I was afraid to see it for myself.”

  She nodded.

  “In the beginning, I tried to destroy your marriage to Jayson out of my own selfish motives.” He exhaled with difficulty, causing Andra to gently pat his chest. The comforting action caused him to continue. “I believed I was doing what was right for the family. In the end, I was forced to admit the reason I wanted the marriage to end was that I wanted you for myself.”

  The soft ticking of the clock on the wall and vague, distant hospital sounds beyond the closed door were the only sounds as Stefano labored to breathe.

  “Lately, I asked myself if I had to do it all over again, could I have resisted you out of my love for Jayson?” His head shook. “No, God help me, nothing would have changed. My feelings for you would still be so, despite my love for my baby brother. It is better this way that I go.” His smile was slight and regretful. “It’s all about love.” At her quizzical expression, he sighed. “Life. Life is
n’t just about living; it is about loving. I found that out almost too late.”

  Andra nodded.

  “Jayson loves you. And you love Jayson.”

  “Yes.”

  Stefano’s eyes glistened in the dim hospital light. “My leaving this earth is the only way out for me—for all of us.”

  Andra shivered at his confession, causing Stefano’s embrace, although weak, to tighten.

  “I once believed Jayson had lost his philotimo.”

  “Philotimo?”

  “Honor, integrity, duty, sacrifice.” Stefano sighed shakily. “But it appears it was I who lost it.”

  “Seems to me you managed to find it again.” Andra smiled encouragingly at Stefano and replaced her head on his chest. Her doctor’s hearing took in the faint death rattle inside his lungs.

  “Before you came into my life, I was afraid to die—afraid to take my last breath without knowing what it was like to truly love a woman and to be loved. I had a void inside me after my mother passed. I was afraid my emptiness would follow me to all eternity. Now …” He sighed, his breath catching in silent contemplation.

  “Now?” she said, somewhat breathless herself. Andra waited in a few seconds of silence before she gathered the courage to lift her head once more.

  His handsome face, quiet in repose, had a wide-eyed expression of pure peace.

  In the darkness of the room, within the dim circle of light, the heart monitor beeped once only to produce the elongated flat-line beep signifying he was no longer with her.

  Tearing up, Andra smiled wistfully. She then lifted her hand to gently place her fingers over his open eyelids.

  She closed them in eternal rest just as Jayson stepped into the room.

  EPILOGUE

  Dusk crept like a secret lover over the back vineyards.

  Andra stood watching the evening sky’s colorful display of parting magnificence from their upstairs bedroom’s veranda. A breeze floated by, lightly kissing her face and gently lifting her thick, curly mane. Reaching out to grip the bedroom balcony’s railing, she tilted her head. Closing her eyes, she allowed the breeze’s feather-like coolness to wash over her and refresh her dark skin.

  She wore the floor-length white tunic Sly had given her as a belated wedding gift. The frock transformed her into a totally feminine being. She pretended to be a Greek goddess living decadently, for she wore no underwear beneath the light, flowing material, which left one shoulder bare. The rest of the fabric draped across her breasts to gather at her other shoulder, where a round gold medallion securely fastened the one-sided tunic.

  Another cool breeze swept across the balcony to meet her, and as if it brought him with it, Andra felt her husband’s presence behind her. As usual, she shivered from a combination of love and lust for him.

  “You can tell me, you know,” Jayson said softly. She heard him shift uncertainly in the darkness. “You loved him, didn’t you?”

  Andra’s grip on the balcony rail tightened. Not wanting to face him yet, she looked off into the rapidly diminishing sunlight on the horizon, attempting to hold back the various thoughts rushing at her from different parts of her brain.

  She exhaled softly.

  The purple, pink, and blue sky beyond the spacious porch shone vibrantly against her searching pupils, its beauty so intense she had to blink in order to take in the fading sight of the distant snowcapped mountain.

  It was the mountain she’d planned on one day climbing, even if she could only make it a few miles upward.

  Andra deliberated how to answer him. She knew a man’s ego, once tampered with, could most times be damaged beyond repair, especially when it came to the idea of another man, even if said man was a brother—and a deceased one to boot.

  Arranging her face into perfect placidity, Andra turned around. She floated as if on a cloud as she walked toward him, her long skirt flowing and parting on one side with each step. Upon entering his arms, she had never felt more alive in her life.

  “You know I love you and that you’re the only one for me, right?” Her face inches from his, she immediately tightened her embrace at his silence. “Right, Pastor?”

  It was Jayson’s turn to stare off at the darkening horizon, his expression troubled. “But Stefano—”

  Andra lifted a hand and gently nudged his face back toward hers. “Stefano was your brother—and I loved him because of it.” She managed to hold his gaze steady with hers, even though she knew they both wanted to turn away. “Yes, I must admit that in the beginning, it was rocky between your brother and me, but I believe he came to accept me for the person I am, not what he had perceived me to be. Thanks to you.”

  Breaking from his stare, Andra withdrew, pivoted, and retraced her steps back to the balcony, her eyes once again straining to see the distant mountain she one day hoped to conquer. She hesitated before continuing.

  “And yes, with his new perception grew a fondness between us—one I hope honors you as much as it honored him.”

  “But you were there, lying beside him in his bed as he drew his last breath.”

  Hurt entwined his words, crushing them in its powerful grip.

  Andra paused and softly exhaled. “He needed someone there with him, close, so he wouldn’t feel alone. Other than the nurse, he was alone. I wanted to do that for him—for you.” She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Would you have not wanted me—or anyone else—to do that for your beloved older brother?”

  Jayson closed the distance between them. Slipping both arms around her waist, he possessively placed both hands over her growing baby bump. As he gently massaged her round tummy, Andra allowed her body to lean against his. She experienced the pressure of his chin as it rested atop the round medallion pin on her shoulder.

  His sigh was great, as if he released a great heaviness from his soul.

  “Yes, baby, of course I would,” he said, turning her body inside his embrace. “You know, I have to say, what you and your family did for my family was a miracle. You guys brought us back to life—my father, Stefano, and me. I fear my brother had become a walking corpse before you entered his world. I’m glad you were able to resurrect him before he …”

  Tenderly, Andra placed a comforting palm against her husband’s trembling cheek, hoping to convey a sense of peace and calm. It worked.

  At first, he looked embarrassed, but then his face broke out in a brave smile. “Before he passed.”

  Andra pondered the family events that had taken place since Stefano’s funeral. Upon Stefano’s admittance to the hospital, he, George, and Jayson had agreed not to take on any investors. Instead, they’d taken out a simple-interest business loan through the bank to finance their olive grove infusion project, ensuring their company would always and forevermore remain within the family.

  Although Papa George had refused any monies offered from Hog’s estate, Andra had privately set aside a good-sized portion of it as collateral against the bank’s loan just in case.

  Her thoughts of family automatically ran toward Racine, who, at Papa George’s insistence, had decided to stay in Athens and attend college there. She mentally shook her head as Racine’s newly acquired best friend, Sly, popped inside her brain. After experiencing a short grieving period over Stefano’s death, the Grecian beauty had decided to join Racine on her academic road to betterment.

  The two, now like a pair of irregular peas in a pod, had even talked about getting a dorm room together.

  Good luck with that.

  Then there was Paulo. He’d recovered well from his head injury courtesy of Hog, but from time to time, he experienced spasms over one eye or in his hands. Despite his head injury, he was still as handsome and charming as ever, and he’d finally decided to settle down in matrimonial bliss, wisely choosing a healthy and vibrant girl from the village who viewed his eye spasms as “macho sexy,” as she giggly put it.
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  Just then, Andra’s thoughts turned to her mother. Currently, she and Papa George were on their way back to the States to sell Al’s house and get her situated in order for her to return to Greece. Andra marveled at how much Mama and Papa George’s friendship had grown—and where it might eventually lead. Knowing her mother, if George allowed Al to have her way—which, by the looks of it, he already had—they would do a lot of traveling.

  The family’s come a long way.

  Coming back to the here and now, Andra heard the sound of soft flight. Drawing in a wondrous breath, she glanced upward in time to behold a striking white-winged dove sail gracefully overhead. The bird’s silent ascent added to its beauty, and she parted her mouth in awe.

  Jayson stirred behind her. She stiffened at his next words.

  “You know, when I found out Stefano had called you Aphrodite, I didn’t know if I could contain my jealousy,” he said. He immediately soothed her tenseness by kissing the small of her neck. “Yet despite the fact that he said it, I have to admit he was right. You are Aphrodite—my own personal seductive, lovely temptress—and I’m blessed to have you for my wife.”

  Relieved, Andra grinned as he bent to whisper conspiratorially in her ear.

  “And I would die a thousand deaths, go down with a thousand ships, just to keep you by my side, my beautiful Aphrodite.”

  “You know what your brother told me before he went to be with the Lord? He said life is for loving.” Andra stood on her tiptoes to give Jayson a brief, tender kiss. “And I’ll be darned if I’m not gonna do just that.”

  Stepping from Jayson’s embrace, Andra captured his gaze as she lifted her graceful hands and unpinned her shoulder medallion. Her flowing white tunic parted to land in a quiet whisper at her feet. Against the moonlit backdrop, her breasts—swollen due to her nesting fetus—pushed forth hardened nipples in declaration of her love, lust, and craziness for him.

  Her smile was both seductive and wicked, and her voice was low yet distinct. “Well, my handsome husband, can you hear my body’s siren calling yours?”

 

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