The House by the River

by Lena Manta

  “Good afternoon,” she said, smiling, and was annoyed with herself for not having worn the other dress that suited her better.

  “Good afternoon,” he greeted her in turn, while he couldn’t help thinking how she looked even more beautiful close up.

  Her eyes weren’t exactly brown; they had something of the color of honey in them mixed with wine, and the brows that crowned them were fine drawn and delicate. Her lips were moist and her cheeks red. Apostolos’s gaze dared to travel farther down. Her body was slim and desirable, even when covered by the unattractive dress she wore.

  Melissanthi was not at all bothered by Apostolos’s examining gaze, because it gave her the opportunity to observe him herself. He was a head taller than her, and she wasn’t short. He was slim, very dark, with a few white hairs adorning his temples. His eyes were also dark, almost black, and his glance indicated to her quite clearly that he liked what he saw. His clothes cried out from a distance that they were very expensive and his shirt must have been made of silk. She’d never seen such a well-dressed man. Even his shoes had gold monograms on them. He must be really rich to have his initials on his shoes! Their eyes met again.

  “What’s your name?” Apostolos asked.

  “Melissanthi,” she answered.

  “You have a very beautiful name. As beautiful as you are!”

  “Thank you. And you? What’s your name?”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t introduce myself . . . Apostolos Fatouras.”

  “Pleased to meet you.”

  Melissanthi only just managed to stop her eyes from widening. She’d heard of this man! Her grandfather said that he was a big tobacco merchant and everyone on the plain gave their tobacco to him because he was honest and very reliable with his payments. So, aside from being handsome and well dressed, he didn’t realize what else he had. Her interest was aroused even more. But she’d have to find out if he was married. A man like that couldn’t be single.

  “What are you doing in our part of the country?” Melissanthi asked, feigning ignorance.

  “I had some work in Katerini, but I took the opportunity to explore the surrounding countryside. Your village is really beautiful.”

  “I suppose that depends on your perspective. If you lived here all the time like I do, you might not like it so much.”

  “Don’t you like it?”

  “I do and I don’t. I don’t have any other choice, though. Will you stay long, Mr. Fatouras?” she asked politely.

  “I’d prefer it if you didn’t speak to me as if I were a respectable old man. I told you, my name’s Apostolos—unless you see me as an old man.”

  “Of course not!”

  “It wouldn’t be strange. To a young girl of your age, maybe I look old.”

  “I think that you . . . you’re fishing for compliments!”

  They both laughed, and unconsciously they took a step closer to one another. They looked deeply into each other’s eyes. Apostolos realized that he had fallen suddenly and unexpectedly in love. This girl must be his at any cost. On her part, Melissanthi understood that the man standing in front of her was her ticket out of the village. The fact that he was handsome, that was an added bonus.

  The tension of the moment was broken by Melissanthi, who had to find out, before she dared to hope. “Tell me, Apostolos, is your wife with you?” she asked.

  “I have no wife, Melissanthi,” he answered with a smile. “I’m alone in life. I came here with a friend who had the kindness to accompany me. And you?”

  “What do you mean, ‘you’?”

  “Now that you’ve learned I’m single, I imagine I have the right to find out if you are free?”

  “Of course I am! Otherwise I wouldn’t have been standing and chatting so long with you.”

  They looked at each other again. Apostolos swallowed a lump that was blocking his throat and took a deep breath. It wouldn’t have taken much for him to take her in his arms and kiss her until her knees gave way, but even for a man like him, there were limits.

  “Tell me about yourself, Melissanthi. I want to find out about your life.”

  “My life is of no interest,” she answered sadly.

  “Whatever concerns you is interesting to me,” Apostolos replied.

  They began to walk and without being aware of it, they headed away from the village. They were alone, and all around them the trees and bushes hid them from prying eyes. Melissanthi told him everything about herself, and with her every word, her every movement, he knew that he wanted her and he would have her. It was the first time in his life he’d felt like this, and he was still young enough to be able to get what he wanted.

  Melissanthi had finished her tale and was looking at him. “That’s all there is,” she said simply. “Have I disappointed you?”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “What interest can a village girl like me have for a man like you?”

  “That’s exactly why you interest me! Because you’re not like any of the women I’ve met until now. Since I met you yesterday in the square, you’ve been going round and round in my brain. I would say that you are in my heart, but I don’t want to frighten you.”

  “You don’t scare me, but I do think you’re in a hurry.”

  “Melissanthi, I’m nearly forty, and my experience allows me to know for certain what’s happening to me. I’m not some young greenhorn.”

  “No, you’re not. And if you were, we wouldn’t be here together now—if that tells you something.”

  Apostolos came a little closer and Melissanthi made no move to distance herself from him. She kept looking into his eyes until he took her in his arms and fixed his lips to hers.

  Only for a moment did Melissanthi feel strange, as if she were a little ashamed, but the next minute she abandoned herself to his embrace with no more hesitation. No one had ever kissed her before and the experience moved her. If Apostolos had let her, she would have continued to delight in the experience of this first kiss. Released from his embrace, she became aware of what had happened and lowered her head, blushing scarlet. She covered her face with her hands but Apostolos raised her chin and looked at her tenderly.

  “It’s been years since I kissed a girl who turned red as a poppy. Don’t be ashamed, Melissanthi. A kiss is not something bad or cheap.”

  “Yes, but we’ve only just met one another. Apart from your name, I don’t know anything else about you. How did I do this?”

  “It was probably my fault. But since you want to find out about me, I’ll tell you.”

  The story Apostolos told was not exactly the truth, but it was the only thing he was able to tell her without feeling ashamed. He told her how he’d met his wife but he neglected to add that he’d married her for her money. He explained to her that he’d lived alone since he’d been widowed but he neglected to clarify how much he’d gallivanted around, drinking and dancing and throwing himself into ephemeral erotic relationships. When he finished his story, Melissanthi knew that Apostolos Fatouras was her man and that she would follow him to the ends of the earth. For the moment, though, she must return home because the hour was late and she would get a severe scolding from her mother. She said a hurried good-bye to him after they’d agreed to meet at the same place the next afternoon.

  Neither of them closed an eye that night. Apostolos felt as if he were twenty years old again, and refused to listen to the voice of reason, represented worthily by his friend. He was crazy about Melissanthi, and the memory of that kiss unhinged him. He was dying to take her in his arms again and he counted the hours until the next afternoon. Whatever Christos told him fell on deaf ears. Melissanthi, on the other hand, felt ashamed of that kiss and when she came home she felt that her sisters, and even more her mother, would know what she’d done. Nevertheless her female nature had awoken and demanded to be fulfilled, despite the fact that Melissanthi herself know nothing about it. The only thing she knew was that she couldn’t wait for her meeting with Apostolos the next day.


  She arrived, almost running, at their meeting place and although she was a quarter of an hour early, Apostolos was already waiting for her. Without a second thought, she rushed into his arms and waited, hungrily, for his kiss. Apostolos didn’t disappoint her since he’d been waiting for the same thing and hadn’t been able to put it out of his head since the morning. Afterward, they sat, out of breath, under a tree and looked at each other.

  “Melissanthi, I’m in love with you,” he confessed to her passionately. “It doesn’t bother me that I met you only two days ago. I feel as if I’ve been waiting for you all my life!”

  “Apostolos, I don’t know what to say . . .”

  “Just one thing. Will you marry me?”

  She wanted to sing, to dance, to shout. She felt as if she were living the only dream she’d had for so many years. She looked him carefully in the eyes. “Are you sure this is what you want?” she asked.

  “Naturally I’m sure! I want to marry you. I want to take you away to Athens and buy you whatever your heart desires. They’ll probably all die of jealousy down there because I’ll have the most beautiful wife in the world!”

  “Apostolos, you’re acting like a little child,” Melissanthi scolded him while the bells of her vanity were ringing merrily inside her. Her eyes shone with pleasure at what she’d heard. It was everything she’d ever dreamed of: clothes, jewelry, fancy things . . .

  “You’ve made me feel like a child again,” he answered, and folded her again in his arms. “So? Will you be my wife?”

  “I want to be your wife, but I don’t want to hear what my mother will say. I think we’ll have problems.”

  “Leave it to me,” he reassured her.

  Theodora smiled broadly at her mother, who was seated opposite her on the verandah, drinking coffee.

  “So, Mother, I think the older you get, the more you’re losing it!” she observed cheerily.

  “You’ve gotten older too! You think you’ve got your head screwed on,” her mother shot back, annoyed. “I tell you that man doesn’t know what’s the matter with him!”

  “And what should I be doing about it?”

  “Make a move! Every day he’s in the village pretending to be a tourist. Get dressed, do yourself up, and see if you can find out where he’s going!”

  “And what if I did all that? What would happen? As soon as he saw me, would he fall down or run and get a marriage license?”

  “Don’t make fun of me, Theodora. You’re young and beautiful. And your father knows him: he’s almost in his forties, a widower with no children and lots of money. And besides all that, they say he’s good looking! Fatouras is just right for you.”

  “If it’s as you say, what makes you believe that he’ll turn to look at a woman my age with five children? The man came to our neighborhood for work, not to find a bride. If he wanted to marry he would have done it in Athens where he lives and where he must be surrounded by young and beautiful women from the capital. And the fact that you’re thinking all this is ridiculous. You must accept the fact that love and love affairs are over for me.”

  “Who’s talking about such things? I’m talking about a lot of money. It would be to your advantage and your children’s!”

  “Mother, you never know when to just stop talking. And one of these days, it’s going to come back and hit you in the head.”

  The well-dressed man on the doorstep was smiling happily at her, but Theodora just stood there for a few moments as if she’d been turned to stone.

  “Excuse me, what can I do for you?” she finally asked, certain that he’d lost his way in the countryside and was looking for directions.

  “You’re Kyria Theodora, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, I am. And who are you?”

  “My name is Apostolos Fatouras, and I wanted to speak to you.”

  Hearing his name, Theodora was overwhelmed and stood aside for him to enter. Only the previous day her mother had spoken to her about him and today here he was in her house, tall, certainly good looking, and smiling. Her brain tried to start working, to understand what business Fatouras had here. She rejected the crazy notion that her mother had interfered in some way to bring about the conclusion she wanted. Suddenly she realized that she had been silently staring at the man all this time, as if in a trance, as he waited patiently in the middle of the room.

  “Excuse me,” she mumbled in embarrassment. “Please sit down.”

  “Thank you.”

  Apostolos looked around and chose an armchair to sit in. Theodora sat opposite him.

  “I’m a little confused, sir.”

  “Fatouras is my name. I’m a tobacco merchant from Athens.”

  “Certainly, but I don’t understand what you want. I don’t have any tobacco to sell you.”

  “I didn’t come to buy anything from you, madam,” Fatouras explained. “I came to ask you for something.”

  “What do you want from me?”

  “Melissanthi. For my wife!”

  To the river! Theodora ran there to be alone and catch her breath after all she’d heard. Apostolos had left smiling, as sure of himself as he’d come, and had managed to extract a promise from her that he’d have her answer within two days. But Theodora knew that the question was merely a formality. No consent was necessary on her part. She stood on the bank, watching the water flow in front of her feet. In a moment of madness, she nearly threw herself into its green brilliance and allowed it to carry her away.

  The soft sound behind her warned her she was not alone. She turned and saw Melissanthi watching her, arms crossed on her chest. Her whole stance cried out that she was ready for a fight.

  “I have no intention of quarreling with you, my child,” Theodora said.

  “Whether you quarrel with me or not depends on what you say to me!” Melissanthi answered.

  “Do you love him?” Theodora looked her daughter in the eyes.

  Melissanthi lowered her eyes before she replied. “I want him,” she declared.

  “It’s not the same. I asked you if you love him.”

  “What does it matter? And if I don’t love him now, I like him. So I will love him.”

  “Melissanthi, I must know the truth. Do you like Fatouras or his money? If he was poor, would you want him?”

  “What does it matter? I like Apostolos the way he is. If I’d seen him in rags, or in a farmer’s clothes covered in dirt, no, he wouldn’t have been the same to me. But that’s not who he is.”

  “In other words, you were dazzled. You don’t want him; you want the life he can offer you. Wealth, fancy clothes, and a sophisticated life in Athens.”

  “And what’s wrong with that? I don’t want to grow old in this village or marry a farmer, have a child every year, and work in the fields! I want to leave, and Apostolos will take me away from here. That’s what matters to me.”

  “Yes, but even if he were to take you to Paradise, when the door of your house closes, there’ll be the two of you. If you don’t love him, it won’t be easy.”

  “It’ll be harder to stay here!”

  “Aren’t you worried that he’s so much older?”

  “On the contrary, it reassures me. He fell in love with me. I’m younger and beautiful, so he’ll always want me and I won’t ever have to chase after him. Anyway, you are one to talk. Father was fifteen years older than you!”

  “I worshipped your father! It’s not the same.”

  “I didn’t say that I’m not interested in Apostolos or that he repels me. And besides, what more could a village girl with no education hope for?”

  “Oh, you’re not in your right mind! You’re young.”

  “Take a look at me, Mother. Look at my village clothes. In Athens the girls wear beautiful clothes. They have earrings hanging from their ears and their fingers are decorated with rings that have stones in them. In Athens the women have their hair beautifully done and they smell of perfume, and they paint their faces with makeup. In the evenings they go to clubs where the
re’s music and they dance and enjoy themselves. That’s what he’ll offer me, and I’ll love him out of gratitude because he will have saved me from a miserable life in the village. I’ll marry him, Mother, and you can’t stop me! I’d like to have your blessing . . . but I don’t really need it.”

  A little later Theodora went to her mother’s house with an inscrutable expression on her face. She sat and rested her head in her hands. It felt as heavy as cement.

  “What are you doing here? Why the long face?” her mother asked straightaway.

  “Remember all the things you told me the other day about Fatouras?”

  “Don’t tell me you decided to do something.”

  “I didn’t have the chance. He decided to do something first.”

  “You don’t say! Isn’t that a stroke of fate. What did he do?”

  “He came to my house and asked for Melissanthi’s hand!”

  Theodora’s mother was struck dumb. She sat down in a heap with her mouth open and her eyes popping.

  “That’s exactly how I looked when he told me he loved her and wanted her for his wife.”

  “Hmph! The old rake! Did our girl take a fancy to him? She’s a baby compared to him. He could be her father!” Julia burst out.

  “Don’t even start with that, Mother, because from what . . . the groom tells me, your granddaughter isn’t so innocent.”

  “Christ and the Virgin!”

  “And if all the saints were to fall down from heaven, it wouldn’t change anything. My daughter declared that she wants him and she’ll have him with or without my permission.”

  “Does she love him?”

  “Melissanthi only loves two things: Athens and money. You can’t imagine what I had to listen to from her. She’s so calculating . . . so cold . . . I’ve seen a lot in almost forty years, but I never thought like that!”

  “That shows she’s clever, Theodora.”

  “You call that cleverness?”

  “She knows what she wants, and she’s found a way to get it. If she wants more than you or I do from this life, that’s her own business. And if he can give her what she wants, that’s good enough for me. So happy wedding!”