The House by the River

by Lena Manta

  Melissanthi, my dear . . . if you are holding this letter, it means that I am no longer alive. Since our child died, I’ve felt that my end is very near, but I’m not afraid. I’m only sad that you will be alone. You know how much I love you just as I know that you love me in your way. You were very young when we married, and I never wanted you to grow up. Perhaps that’s why I never told you that the strong lover you married couldn’t be beside you in the same way anymore; that he would have to transform himself into just a companion . . . into the father you lost when you were very young. When I understood what was happening with Angelos, I felt that divine justice had knocked on my door.

  You see, I never told you this, but I married my first wife for her money. I lived my life the way I wanted to, as discreetly as I could, and I kept enjoying life after she died. If you really think about it, you and I had a lot in common, even though I was very cynical. I was governed by logic and calculation, while you were controlled by your impulses. I don’t regret our marriage for a moment. You made me feel completely happy. Even the child, for as long as God allowed us to have him near us, was an addition to my happiness. Financially, you will be taken care of for the rest of your life. If you’re wondering what you’ll do from now on, look inside yourself and you’ll find the answer.

  Apostolos

  Christos stopped reading, his eyes full of tears. He looked at Melissanthi and saw that a strange calm had spread across her face.

  “Melissanthi?” he asked her nervously.

  “I’m all right,” she answered.

  “What will you do now, Melissanthi? Do you know?”

  “I know.”

  Apostolos was right once again. The answer was inside her and she didn’t have to search long to find it. There was nothing for her in this city, nothing that she would miss. This time her choice was a positive and conscious one—she wasn’t escaping and no sudden impulse was directing her steps. She would never become a small branch again, vulnerable to the drag of the currents. The time had come for her heart, heavy as a stone, to pull her to the depths, to help her settle at the bottom and to return where nothing more could wound her. She needed peace, she needed her house . . .

  The house by the river.

  JULIA

  Julia watched the figure of her mother growing smaller and smaller in front of the house and the river. It seemed to her as if the chestnut trees moved their branches to say good-bye, and she felt her eyes grow moist. She looked at the road that opened onto the unknown and then turned to face her husband. She knew very little about him, she had to admit that. The few months of their engagement hadn’t taught her much, but the fact that her in-laws hadn’t turned up at the wedding didn’t seem favorable. Fokas had tried to excuse them: a bad cold had confined his mother to her bed; his father couldn’t leave her alone. Only Fokas’s uncle attended to represent the family, and it didn’t take much for Julia to understand what was hidden behind the hemming and hawing of the otherwise very likeable man. Her in-laws didn’t approve of their son’s marriage. Julia didn’t want to think about what sort of reception lay in store for her. Fokas told her that as soon as they arrived in Thessaloniki, they would stay in a hotel for a few days to be alone, but then they would go to stay with his parents until they made a home for themselves.

  Julia asked herself how long that would take, and how she’d manage to live with people who had no doubt taken a dislike to her even before they’d met her. It must have come like a bolt out of the blue when they found out that their only son had gotten mixed up with a village girl whom they knew nothing about and who certainly didn’t have the same qualifications as a civil engineer. Kyriakos and Evanthia Karapanos might seem like a threat, but Julia had made up her mind to defeat them.

  “You’ve been looking at me for an hour, but I can’t make out what’s on your mind.” Fokas’s voice startled her, making her jump.

  “It would be better if you had your attention on the road,” she said firmly.

  “Don’t worry, I know where I’m going. What I don’t know is what you’ve been thinking about for so long as you sit there in silence,” Fokas answered cheerfully. “I’m suspicious that your mind is taking strange turns; it would be good for me to know what path it’s on.”

  “If you really want to know . . . I was realizing how little we know about each other.”

  “It’s true that we’ve hardly been alone together in all these months, so we haven’t had the opportunity to say much to one another. But we have the whole of our lives in front of us for that. What you should be thinking about, Julia, is that I love you very much. Do you love me?”

  “If I didn’t love you, would I have followed you into the unknown all by myself, without any idea of what was waiting for me? But the truth is I don’t know anything at all: I don’t know what you like, what annoys you and what irritates you. Nothing.”

  “Oh, that’s easy. I like everything, lies annoy me, hypocrisy irritates me, and I love my wife—even if she’s not my wife yet in the full sense of the word!”

  Julia blushed bright red and looked out the window in embarrassment. She remembered the moments when she and Fokas were alone and he took her in his arms. His kisses and caresses drove her crazy—so much so that she had to admit there were many times when she asked herself what would have happened if Fokas himself, panting, hadn’t pulled himself away from her. What would have followed? Only once, in his car, did his caresses become very daring. He had touched a place on her body that she herself avoided touching, and Julia remembered how loudly she had groaned, unable to suppress all the excitement he had provoked in her. Fokas too seemed to have lost control. He had positioned his body above hers and she felt an abyss swallowing her. It was as if she couldn’t breathe, but at the same time she knew she had never felt so alive.

  Every time Julia asked her mother to explain how relations between a man and a woman worked, she would change the subject and seemed more embarrassed than Julia herself. As for that “first time” that all the older women spoke about in low voices—what made it different from all the other times? Why was there such awe and secrecy about something that was supposed to give pleasure and satisfaction? Suddenly Julia felt as if she’d taken on a lot more than she could bear. His parents, her new life, and above all the night to come—all of it was swimming around in her head, which felt so heavy that she let it fall back on the headrest of her seat.

  A sweet sleep overtook her. Beside her, Fokas smiled and wondered how he’d stand the wait until they reached the hotel. Julia, abandoned to sleep, was even more beautiful and desirable than ever, and the preceding months had nearly exhausted his self-control. He stepped on the gas a little more urgently.

  He had a lot to think about, but tried to push it all to the back of his mind. His parents, particularly his mother, were among the big problems. She had almost frightened him when he told her that he’d fallen in love and planned to marry. At first Evanthia had simply stared straight ahead, as if she’d turned to stone. After that Fokas saw her face cloud over; her brows lowered threateningly and her lips tightened, and for a moment he became a child again. He remembered that this particular expression on his mother’s face never foretold anything good. Usually it was followed by a beating. A moment later, though, time returned to its correct dimension and he became a thirty-year-old man again.

  “What did you just say?” his mother asked in a low voice.

  That voice was another sign of danger but Fokas looked at her confidently. “I think you heard me very well,” he said in a calm voice. “I love a girl and I’m going to marry her.”

  “That much I heard! Who she is I didn’t understand.”

  “You understood that too, but since you want me to, I’ll say it quite happily again. Her name’s Julia and she’s from a village below Mount Olympus. I met her when I was working there and I love her. She’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. What more do you want?”

  “To tell me you’re joking!”

>   “Mother, you know I’ve never joked about something so serious. I love her and before you say something you might regret, I tell you that everything is decided. I asked her mother’s permission already and the wedding will take place in three months. We’ll come straight back here after the wedding and we’ll stay for a short time until we make our own home. Did you understand everything, or did I tell you everything at once and confuse you?”

  He wasn’t expecting what followed. In front of his eyes his mother was transformed into a wild animal. She howled and screamed; she smashed whatever she found in front of her. If his father hadn’t come in to stop her hysteria, Fokas didn’t know what she might have done. His mind couldn’t take in what his mother had said. He had never seen her in such a state, and never imagined she would object so violently. Even when he was young, he had understood that she wanted him to always be hers, and he was aware that his father almost always gave way to her wishes, which were expressed almost like orders. As he grew up, he noticed that his mother was becoming more and more overprotective, but he pushed back and they often quarreled. Evanthia did everything she could to interfere with his life. She had an opinion about his group of friends, she didn’t hesitate to express her feelings about every one of his girlfriends, and in a mysterious way she managed to be aware of everything, to the point where Fokas began to believe she was following him. Three years earlier she had begun a campaign to find him a suitable wife but always according to her prescriptions, which were diametrically opposed to his. All the candidates she had presented to him were girls who were scared of Evanthia and would have been completely obedient to her wishes. Naturally, all of them, without exception, had huge dowries that would, in her opinion, ensure her son’s fortune. Fokas stubbornly refused every such suggestion and declared that it was his affair and his choice who he would marry. The announcement of his marriage with Julia was the proof that he meant what he had said to her for so many years. Still, he hadn’t expected such opposition. In the end, Evanthia categorically refused to attend his wedding, although she accepted that the couple could stay for a while in her house. This news surprised Fokas, but he regarded it as an indirect retreat on her part and calmed down a little.

  The traffic was heavier now. They had entered Thessaloniki and he had to pay attention. The hotel he had chosen for them to spend a few days in was outside the city in a quiet suburb, with few people but a lovely view of the Thermaic Gulf. It wasn’t especially luxurious but it had the basic comforts.

  Julia woke up shortly before they reached the entrance. She looked around her and then turned sadly to Fokas. “I don’t believe it! I slept the whole way! It’s unforgivable.”

  “I forgive you, though,” he said tenderly to her. “You were exhausted; you needed it. Why do you apologize?”

  “I should have kept you company. So many hours of driving—you’re the one who must be tired.”

  “I’m fine. I’m used to driving long hours. See, we’re here! How does it look to you?”

  Julia looked at the big building, enchanted. They got out of the car and at the same moment a young man appeared to take their luggage.

  The room seemed enormous to her and the view from the balcony took her breath away. Fokas came close and took her in his arms. She leaned against him to smell the fresh air and a little of his cologne. His breath burned her neck. Each breath set off small electric shocks along her spine. She was almost disappointed when he drew away and went into the room. She followed him.

  “I think I’ll have a quick bath,” he said, opening his suitcase. Julia was surprised when she detected embarrassment in his voice. “I won’t be long,” he continued and she saw him disappear immediately behind a door.

  The girl stayed there looking around the room. Their bed was waiting, made up with clean white sheets, and she sat on the edge of it. In her suitcase was an embroidered nightgown and she didn’t know whether to put it on or to keep her clothes on. She hadn’t brought much with her. Fokas had told her they would buy new clothes in Thessaloniki, more suitable for city life, and she understood that he was telling her tactfully that her clothes weren’t appropriate for the wife of a civil engineer.

  In complete confusion she watched him emerge from the bathroom with wet hair, wearing a robe. He seemed so distant to her, so strange, that she was tempted to open the door and run back home to her village.

  “Your turn now!” Fokas said cheerfully. “There’s another robe in there for you.”

  “Yes—I’m going . . .”

  She slipped into the steamy bathroom and hurried to draw a bath. Once she was submerged in the hot water, she felt more relaxed, but was aware that she was trembling slightly. When she got out of the tub, she wrapped herself in the robe and pulled it tightly around her, as if she could protect herself from all the fears that suddenly threatened to overwhelm her. Her feet refused to lead her back into the room. Julia sat for a few moments on the edge of the bathtub and her breath came sharply. Finally she berated herself—cowardice never suited her. She stood up decisively, raised her head, took a deep breath, and came out into the room.

  Sometime later, lying beside him with his arms wrapped tightly around her, she remembered the awe in the voices of the women when they spoke about the “first time.” Now she understood. Something so strong, so beautiful and at the same time painful, was rare. Nobody had prepared her for everything she would feel. However ignorant she was, she realized that Fokas had been considerate of her inexperience; he had aroused her emotions and made her a woman in a unique and imaginative way. She closed her eyes, calm and happy, knowing that this marriage was the only right thing she had ever done. She remembered her mother forever saying that her father was her sun. Now she too had found the sun that would illuminate the rest of her life.

  Julia watched the days pass and wished that she could stop time so that the two of them could stay there forever. For his part, Fokas did everything to make her happy. He bought her all the clothes he thought were necessary. And Julia never tired of touching the beautiful fabrics that covered her body. She basked in the adoration of her husband, who, each time they made love, led her further into the forest of delight, where she discovered, amid its soft foliage, that the rainbow with all its colors was always there waiting for her.

  The day had arrived. His parents would be expecting them for the midday meal and Fokas was urgently needed back at work. Their stay at the hotel would have to end. As Julia collected her clothes, she wanted to cry at the thought of ending their honeymoon and plunging into the cold sea of duty. She had asked Fokas to describe his parents in detail and what she heard didn’t reassure her at all. She could also tell that her husband was trying to hide some things. It was apparent that Evanthia would not be very welcoming toward her daughter-in-law, who would be stuck with her alone all day while Fokas was away at work. Julia didn’t know how she would confront the battles ahead but she was sure about one thing: she loved her husband and she wouldn’t let anyone come between them, not even his mother.

  However well prepared she was to meet her mother-in-law, Julia hadn’t expected the shiver she felt when Evanthia’s frozen glance fell on her. When the couple arrived at the Karapanoses’ lovely apartment in the center of Thessaloniki, Evanthia opened the door herself to greet them. Julia had never seen an apartment block, so she stood back in awe to admire the enormous building. It seemed incomprehensible to her that so many people were living one above the other. When she had recovered, she found her mother-in-law looking at her with dislike; it was obvious from her expression that she held Julia largely responsible for her son’s “mistake.” In light of the cold stare, Julia was shocked when Evanthia embraced the two of them and kissed them, although the young bride couldn’t help thinking that even Judas’s kiss was more genuine. Kyriakos, the father-in-law, was an easier case. He didn’t seem to have any hard feelings toward his son and showed genuine admiration for the beauty of his daughter-in-law.

  “Now I know why my son insist
ed on marrying you,” he observed warmly, but his smile faded as soon as he saw his wife’s expression, and he nervously coughed.

  “The truth is that the news came as a surprise,” Evanthia said in a dry voice. “I always thought my son would marry someone from our circle . . . perhaps an architect.”

  “Mother,” said Fokas, cutting her off.

  “All right,” she answered. “I didn’t say anything wrong. Your wife must understand that it’s natural for every mother to have dreams for her son.”

  “But of course I understand,” Julia chimed in. “All parents make plans for their children,” she added. “But my grandmother always says, ‘When people make plans, God laughs!’”

  Silence reigned after that while the two rivals sized one another up. To break the tension, Fokas led his wife away to their room. It was a big, light bedroom that, in addition to the double bed, held two big armchairs under one window and a large closet. Julia liked it very much and smiled. She had to admit that her mother-in-law wasn’t lacking in taste; in fact, Julia intended to reproduce many of the things she saw in the house she would make with Fokas. Certainly, under the present conditions, they would have to set up house as quickly as possible. Still, she kept these thoughts to herself as they sat down to eat, and to officially accept, with the accompaniment of wine, the good wishes of Kyriakos and Evanthia for their wedding.

  The first evening in her in-laws’ house passed quite peacefully. After the meal, Kyriakos asked his daughter-in-law questions about her and her family, and Julia answered willingly, all the while feeling Evanthia’s heavy gaze resting on her. She described her house by the river in detail, and as she spoke, Fokas noticed the nostalgia in her voice.

  Later, in their room, Fokas brought up what he had heard. “Julia,” he began tenderly, “earlier, when you were speaking to my father about your house, it sounded like you miss your village and your family.

  “But . . .” she said.