“You don’t know jack about women.” She felt his face nuzzling the crown of her head and smiled.
“Guess you’re right. Let me make up for it. I’m hoping you’ll teach me—” His teasing remark was cut short when George sidled up next to them. A head shorter than Kas, he leaned into Kas and whispered something. The look he gave Athena before moving off held a trace of something. Pity? Regret?
Kas gently eased her forward so he could put his full weight on the crutches. Nevertheless, he bent his head and brushed his lips against her temple.
“Gotta go. Summit meeting with the Theopoulises. Five o’clock, boathouse, okay?”
She nodded and shot him a slight smile. Her heart was beating like a hummingbird’s wings. Just a few hours from now, she was going to take the biggest plunge of her life. She was going to ask him for a commitment.
What kind of commitment, she wasn’t sure. She didn’t want to drive him away by being too possessive, but she did want some kind of commitment or special arrangement with him. Was that too much to ask from someone you were in love with?
She didn’t think so.
Chapter Twenty-Six
In her guest room on the third floor, Athena put the last touch on her attempt to make up her face: A hint of rouge, a little eyeliner and mascara, a pale coral lipstick. She gathered her long tresses into a high ponytail, her bangs and side hair drawn back severely. Diamond stud earrings completed a look that she hoped would lend her a little sophistication. She couldn’t compete with glamorous Nikki Theopoulis, but a few touches would help her look a little older.
The black trousers and sweater would have to do; she’d brought very few clothes for their brief visit. She wondered what Kas would think when he saw her a little more dressed up than usual. Whatever. She felt different, older, and more worldly. He’d mentioned weekends at a hotel. He’d fly all the way from California to meet up with her and have a secret liaison. It sounded illicit, thrilling…forbidden. Her mother would never approve, and neither would her father, no matter how rich the Skoros family was, or how kind and friendly they’d been to Athena and her mother.
All the more exciting!
She checked her watch. Five o’clock. Not the least bit cold, she ignored her leather jacket and skipped down the back stairs, found the mudroom exit door, and made a detour around the side to avoid the terrace and patio-pool area. It was dusk, and the shadows along the trail were long. She breathed in the cool night air, enjoying a balmy California wintry night. Night birds chirped and even that ol’ owl hooted in a nearby tree. Lorena had said they’d spotted a mountain lion on a granite escarpment crowning a nearby hill, so the flashlight in Athena’s hand was meant for both illumination and a possible defense weapon. The ten-minute walk was refreshing and, fortunately, uneventful.
A light in the boathouse greeted her. Good! He’d come, just as he said he would. Was he as excited as she was, she wondered?
The door was ajar.
“Kas?”
“Athena, come in.” His voice sounded anything but excited.
She found him sitting on an old patio swing against the far wall, near the third boat berth, the Jet Ski hanging from its winter harness above him, blocking his upper body. As she approached, she could see him, folded over, elbows on his knees, his hands clutched together and pressed against his mouth. He’d taken off his sports jacket and now wore his black, button-down shirt open at the throat. When he looked up, he appeared stricken. The same expression he’d worn at the gravesite blanketed his face—full of pain and grief.
“My God, what happened?” Alarmed, she went and sat next to him. He continued to gaze at nothing, his dark onyx eyes glazed over. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes red and watery. It was evident that he’d wept recently.
She waited patiently while he inhaled deeply before slowly turning to face her.
“The summit conference, it was about Alex. And Nikki. The baby. The reason for their sudden wedding plans.” He stopped and looked away.
“It’s bad, I get that.” She began to shiver deep inside her chest. A sudden chill darted through her that she knew would eventually ice up her heart. “Just tell me, Kas. Get it over with.”
He exhaled heavily. “Nikki’s three months pregnant with Alex’s child, or so she claims. Actually, I believe her, that it’s Alex’s child. I think she was head over heels in love with him…in her own way. Alex was so excited about the child. A kid himself, he’d bought the baby all kinds of toys that he knew he’d love to show the kid how to play with. You know Alex. Excited like a kid.”
Kas’s voice cracked and he swallowed back a sob. Athena leaned over, touched his shoulder and nuzzled the side of his face. She waited until he regained his composure.
“So, Papa Theopoulis is faced with a dilemma. How can his only daughter avoid the shame of a child out of wedlock? Jeez, that’s how they talk, these traditional, old Orthodox Greeks. A bastard child of Alex and Nikki’s, a child out of wedlock. Unthinkable. The shame, the scandal. In the old country not so long ago, she’d be driven out of the village or stoned. My father kept saying, the baby’s a Skoros. Old Abe kept weeping and saying no Theopoulis has ever been so disgraced, so dishonored. They looked at me. They kept saying, ‘It’s all his fault. He was drunk. He let Alex get behind the wheel. After all the warnings their mother gave them.’”
“Oh, Kas, it wasn’t your fault.” She hugged him to her.
“Want to know how they solve this sort of problem, these old-fashioned Greek-Americans? I guarantee you’re not going to like it.”
She sat up straight and stared at him. Already, she could see him drifting away. He noticed and seized her hand but couldn’t speak the awful solution. Resignedly, she let the mental barrier down and read his mind. Her mouth dropped open. Her stomach rolled over, a kind of pit-of-your-stomach free fall from the top of a skyscraper. She squeezed her eyes shut.
“No-o-o! How-how can they ask that of you?”
“My father and Abe want the child to have the Skoros name, to be legitimate. For the family’s sake, for Nikki’s sake, in honor of Alex, and to honor Alex’s commitment to the Theopoulis family. His child should have his surname. I’m the only single Skoros male left. If I go along with this marriage, it’ll cement our family’s legal and moral attachment to Alex’s child. My parents want legal access to Alex’s child. They want that for their grandchild. They want it for themselves, too.” He rattled it all off so rapidly, as if it couldn’t hurt them if he said it quickly. “Athena, I know you don’t understand this. And this’ll sound crazy, too…but I think Alex would want that, too. He would want his child to have his name, the Skoros name, his inheritance. Nikki and her father said if it’s a boy, they’ll name the boy Alex.”
Athena opened her eyes and struggled to understand all the ramifications, for she knew it was a fait accompli. So much for her fantasies of a hot rendezvous in D.C. So much for her and Kas, period.
“Did your father threaten to disown you if you don’t agree to do this?”
“Oh, God, no, he’d never do that.” Kas’s face remained shuttered in pain, but he was using logic and persuasion to make the fathers’ case, just as they’d used it, themselves. “It was more, ‘you have to do this, son, for the sake of the two families. For Alex’s memory, for my son’s sake’.” His eyes locked with hers. The pain in his was unbearable. “Athena, the Theopoulises are almost as close to us as blood relatives. Alex would want this. Can’t you see the logical solution in this? My mother says I was meant to stay single for just this very reason. Maybe…maybe it’s my moral obligation to Alex. If I hadn’t been so out-of-it that night, none of this would’ve happened. It is my fault. This is my way of making up for what happened.”
Something broke inside her, and she shook her head in denial, unwilling to understand why he would think and feel this way. Outrage rushed through her like hurricane winds, made the blood pound in her head.
“It’s not fair,” was all she could manage to whisp
er. Then his very words returned to haunt her and her voice grew strident. “What about, ‘they don’t rule me, Athena’? Didn’t you say that to me not long ago?”
“I’m telling you this, Athena. It’s only temporary. They said, one or two years max. After that, we’ll negotiate a quiet annulment and shared custody. My parents are happy, the Theopoulises are happy. Nikki’s baby has the Skoros name, and her reputation is saved. It’s a practical solution to a horrendous problem.”
Abruptly, he encircled her in his arms and kissed her. She returned his kiss, holding on to him for as long as she could. The kiss drew out, long, wet, full of angst and passion and all of the emotion they’d denied themselves for weeks. When she didn’t resist, he lingered, planting warm lips on her face, neck, and ear. She shuddered with her need of him.
“It’s only temporary,” Kas whispered. “We can still meet. I’ll fly out there as often as I can. We’ll make it work, make it happen. I want you, ’Thena. This is not a game to me.”
Dazed and heartbroken, she knew he was grasping, trying to catch and hold onto a dream as gossamer as a misty night on the lake. Lorena was right. She’d seen it all. Their timing was lousy. And it sucked big time. She felt the chill inside spread like an icy current in her veins.
Somehow, Athena found the strength to break off their kiss and push him away. She let the heartbreak into her mind and accepted it for what it was, a Fate that she had no power over. She couldn’t fight it any more than Lorena could prevent it. She lurched to her feet and stepped back.
“No, I won’t be the mistress to a married man. Please, Kas, don’t ever try to see me. Or write me, or call me. I can’t stand it, it’s too much. As long as you legally belong to another woman, I can’t see you. I can’t love you. I won’t thumb my nose at the vows of marriage, and I won’t stand between you and what that child will need, a father. I won’t do this, not for you, not for any man.”
She pulled away from his clutching hands and moved away. Was she being immature? Well, too friggin’ bad! It was how she felt!
He pushed himself up to a standing position, holding onto the swing’s arm and trying to grab her at the same time. She eluded his outstretched arm and walked quickly to the door of the boathouse.
She looked back. “You and I, we’re done.”
He called out to her angrily. “Athena! Dammit, you know as long as you’re walking the earth, I won’t be happy with any other woman.” His voice broke into a million pieces as he gasped and swore to himself. He fell back onto the swing as she turned away.
Her mind formed into a glacier—that was how she felt inside. More the fool she was, falling for men who were either con artists or hapless pawns of Fate. That was Kas Skoros, a hapless pawn of Fate. So was she. They were fools to think they had the power to rule their own lives.
No. Something always stands in the way.
Athena took one last look at Kas Skoros. He was watching her walk away. A sob stuck in her throat, her eyes stinging with welling tears. Struggling to find the strength, she turned away. She wanted to tell him goodbye, that she wished him the best, but she couldn’t. The words choked her up.
I hate you. With all my heart.
She left the boathouse.
****
Lorena had scheduled a formal unveiling of Alex’s portrait for seven that night. Everyone, all the members of the Skoros and Theopoulis families, including other distant cousins, plus close family friends, gathered in the vast living room. Both Lorena and Philip Skoros had asked Athena to make a few remarks, so she stood by the huge, sculpted limestone mantelpiece, over which the unframed 22-by-29 canvas stood, propped against the wall and covered by a cloth. The previous painting had been taken down, to make room for what would become a sort of family shrine to honor Alex’s memory.
Athena took a deep breath, purposefully not scanning the room for Kas’s presence—she’d already sensed him standing by her mother and Chris. She could feel his intense dark stare, as if he were trying to thaw her out, and make her change her mind.
Ain’t gonna work, as Mikayla would say.
“I’ve never unveiled one of my portraits before today,” she began hesitantly, uncertain whether to keep her tone light or somber, then decided just to be herself. “I usually just show the person who’s commissioned the painting, and hope he doesn’t groan from disgust when he sees it.” There was an appreciative subdued titter of laughter that rippled about the room. “I’ve painted all kinds of things, still-lifes, landscapes, portraits. But painting the portrait of another human being is a special challenge.”
She took another deep breath, recalling the portrait she’d done of Kas in his deputy’s uniform. She’d taken a photo of the completed painting before sending it to California. Ironic, but that was all she’d have left of Kas. That portrait of Kas was now hanging in the Skoros’s family room.
“As an artist, I try to capture the person’s personality and character, not just his appearance. His soul, his philosophy of life. Basically, what makes him tick. I hope I’ve accomplished this with Alex. It’s been a great honor to have had this opportunity to paint a man I liked so very much.”
At her nod, George Skoros carefully removed the cloth draped over the painting and stood back. No one had seen it yet, except for Alex’s mother, Lorena, and she’d insisted on this formal unveiling. Athena knew Lorena was more than pleased with the portrayal of the family’s irrepressible son. She was moved in ways that only a mother could be.
Those in the room rose as one in a collective gasp of delight and awe. There he was: Wise-cracking, charming Alex Skoros, leaning against the mantelpiece in almost a swaggering pose, his handsome face split with a wide-open smile. As though he were in the middle of a joke and about to tell the punch line.
Philip Skoros exclaimed, “Oh my God!”
Nikki could be heard gasping aloud. Athena snuck a quick look. Even somber Kas had erupted in an open-mouthed look of delight.
Spontaneously, the assembled families and friends broke into applause, which continued for much longer than Athena had ever imagined possible. Whether for Lorena and Phillip’s benefit, or her own, she wasn’t sure, but it was tremendously gratifying all the same. Maybe Alex’s soul was grinning down at them all, pleased by what she’d captured in the portrait.
Lorena came to her and embraced her. Telepathically, the bereft mother expressed her deepest appreciation and gratitude. Then, what transmitted was overflowing sympathy and an apology for what had to happen, Kas’s obligation to both families. The woman knew the arranged marriage would ruin any chances for her and Kas. She had foreseen it all. The car crash, Alex’s death, Kas’s family obligation, Athena and Kas’s doomed relationship. But even for Lorena, everything was beyond her control.
One by one, people came by to congratulate Athena. The eldest son, George, wanted to commission a portrait of his wife, himself and their three children. Athena put him off with the explanation that her studies required her full attention. She wouldn’t be returning to California in the future. Nevertheless, she left the possibility open with a shrug. George told her he understood as he glanced over at Kas. Others wished her well in her career.
The two patriarchs, Philip Skoros and Abe Theopoulis, stood together, gazing up at Alex’s portrait, their hands on each other’s shoulders. As though both commiserating for their loss and congratulating themselves for solving a difficult problem. They both appeared wistful and saddened. Pretty Nikki Theopoulis would marry Kas, and her baby would be legitimate, with the Skoros name. There would be no scandal, and the Skoros family would forever be linked with their new grandchild.
Would Kas eventually learn to love both the mother and the child?
Perhaps. That, too, was beyond Athena’s control.
She saw Chris drift off onto the terrace where a fire pit drew the children for a marshmallow roast. Several elderly Greek-Americans held long skewers of lamb over the fire. Only Kas stood apart in the living room, his plaintive stare boring
into her but leaving her coldly resigned to his decision.
Too bad, Kas. You had your chance to stand up to them.
And you chose duty over love.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Under the cloudy, dark skies of a winter’s evening, Athena emerged from the Art Institute. She’d been back in D.C. a month. Winter Quarter brought Painting Still-Lifes, Art History of the Renaissance, another Western Civilization course, and, thanks to the largesse of the Skoros family, she was able to take a fourth class, European Literature. At this accelerated pace, she’d finish her bachelor’s requirements in one year. Her cast was off, and she’d quit her job.
There was a little bounce to her step, also. Dan Grantham had called—several times, in fact—and they’d arranged to meet for dinner that evening. He kept asking about her Manet pastiche. According to Dan, Martin Larsen, on behalf of his company, GPWGP or Genuine Pastiches of the World’s Greatest Painters, had pressed him to find out the progress of her painting, implying in the process that there was another painter who wanted to tackle Manet. Athena had told him that she hadn’t finished it; in fact, hadn’t had the time to work on it. Except for the work in Painting Still-Lifes class, she hadn’t worked on any painting since Alex’s funeral. As her mother had said, her broken heart needed time to heal.
Whatever…
Athena was determined to never fall in love again. “When hell freezes over” was the new loop that ran around and around in her brain.
She blinked at the familiar car at the curb. Before her sat “Max” behind the steering wheel of a black Range Rover. She went over.
“Sorry to spring this on you, Athena, but there’s an important meeting we’d like you to attend. It’s rather an emergency, if you don’t mind.”
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