by Lena Manta
“No problem,” Lizeta replied without thinking. “Just come live with us. This house is huge, and we won’t try to control you, and I promise we won’t imagine the worst. We know how much you’ve changed. We trust you!”
The two men sat staring at her.
“What’s the matter with you?” she continued, ignoring her husband’s pointed looks. “It’s the only logical solution. Pericles will feel more relaxed, and we’ll have his company.”
“And our mother will have a fit!” the young man responded, but there was a wide smile on his face.
“I’ll speak to my mother-in-law and make her understand,” Lizeta said with determination. “But first, do you agree?”
“But how can I stay with you? Won’t I be a—”
“Don’t say the word burden, kid,” Kleanthis butted in, “or I’ll box your ears! It’ll be our pleasure.”
“All right then. I accept. I have no words to thank you!”
Lizeta smiled and met her husband’s meaningful gaze coquettishly.
The plan went exactly as she wished—and her mother-in-law immediately agreed when Lizeta let her in on the secret of Chrysafenia Ververis.
“But what will people say?” the elder Mrs. Sekeris had complained when she first learned of her son’s plans. “Instead of staying with his parents, he’s going to his brother and sister-in-law? Have we quarreled? Aren’t you afraid that maybe our friends will think that you and he—”
“Mother!” Lizeta raised her eyebrows admonishingly. “Such slander shouldn’t even be spoken. It offends your son as well as me, and I’ve never given you reason to doubt me.”
“I’m sorry, Lizeta, but I—I don’t understand. Why should my son live somewhere else? I missed him for so many years, and he’s finally back.”
“I didn’t want to mention this yet, but maybe I’d better,” her daughter-in-law said. “To be honest, I have plans for Pericles, and having him in our house will make it easier.”
“Plan? What plans?”
“To have him marry, Mother. What else? Pericles needs a beautiful, good girl beside him so he can start a family. He’s been a rebel for too long.”
“Yes, my girl, I don’t disagree, but where will we find the bride?”
“I have her all ready, but you won’t get another word out of me with your cunning!” she teased. “When I pull it off, you’ll be the first to hear. Until then, I don’t want to hear any complaints!”
Thanks to her intervention, the move took place shortly before the party Lizeta had organized. She told Pericles it was to welcome him home and also to introduce him to people who would be useful to him in the future. He accepted happily.
On the evening of the party, Kleanthis found his clothes laid out on the bed as usual.
“Tell me, my love, why are my socks and my undershirt inside out?” he asked her.
“Because if I put them like that, it means you’ll wear them like that!” Lizeta answered curtly, putting on her silk stockings.
Her husband noticed that they were also inside out.
“If you don’t tell me, I’m not wearing them!” he said stubbornly.
“Heavens, Kleanthis, you want to know everything!” she huffed to cover her embarrassment, and then went on without looking at him. “It’s for luck. Mrs. Sakalis told me the other day: if you’re matchmaking, and the couple are going to meet for the first time, you wear some garment inside out so it will take.”
Kleanthis’s laugh was clear and cheerful. “What am I going to do with you?” he murmured and hugged her. “You’re like a kid, do you know that?”
“But why won’t you do me this favor?”
“Did I say I wouldn’t do it? I just wanted to know the reason I’ll be going around with my clothes inside out.”
“Eh, nobody will suspect anything. Unless you plan to show them your socks?”
Smaragda got ready for the party with the excitement of a young girl about to go to her first dance, and her mood quickly spread to the other members of the family. When they came to Greece, Fotis had insisted that both she and her daughter have lots of new clothes made. The war had ended, and skirts again rose a couple of inches, stopping a little below the knee. Color once more played a prominent role. Smaragda smiled at her reflection in the mirror. The women of her generation had lived through so many eras in fashion.
They entered the Sekeris family’s bright living room with broad smiles. Fotis and Smaragda were quite sure that no girl could outshine their beautiful daughter, and no young man could match their son’s charm. Chrysafenia was wrapped in a pale-yellow silk gown with her blond hair combed back so that it caressed her half-naked shoulders. Nestor, elegant in his dark suit, also smiled with pride at his sister, who held his arm.
Lizeta and Kleanthis greeted them at the entrance to the large room, and there, beside them, stood Pericles. Laughter, handshakes, and hugs among the women, but Lizeta’s senses were on alert as she introduced the would-be couple. At their first handshake, she exchanged an optimistic glance with her husband. It didn’t require any special insight to recognize that her brother-in-law had taken notice of the lovely girl. She took care as they welcomed the guests to give him information about the family, and in a way she knew would excite his curiosity. Her husband, listening, admired her cleverness. After that, Lizeta devoted herself to other arriving guests and didn’t say a word to the Ververis family. She managed to hide a sly smile when Pericles, as soon as all the guests had arrived, lit a cigarette and said to her, as if absentminded, “A lot of people came.”
“And all of them, Pericles, are your potential friends and customers,” she answered cheerfully.
“Are the Ververis family good friends of yours?”
“More friends of my brother Alekos. They’re from Constantinople.”
“Ah, so that’s why I detected an accent when they spoke.”
Lizeta decided to play her secret card. The one even her husband didn’t know about and which her brother had entrusted her with. She looked around in case anyone was listening, and then fired her arrow, straight and true: “Yes, from what Alekos tells me, they left in order to rescue their daughter from an unfortunate love affair. The poor girl was terribly upset. She loved someone, but his parents refused the marriage because they had some personal issue with Chrysafenia’s parents. The mother of the young man slandered the girl so much that her father decided they should leave and make a new start in Athens. But don’t say a word—I’m the only person who knows.”
Then Lizeta moved away quickly, pretending that she had to speak to Mrs. Halaris. She was confident that the seed had been planted. Pericles and Chrysafenia were like twin spirits, both of them hurt by love. From that moment, he didn’t take his eyes off her, and when his older brother approached the doctor’s family, having been directed to do so by Lizeta, he took the opportunity to join the group as well. He heard Smaragda say: “I must tell you, Mr. Kleanthis, we had parties in Constantinople too, but not like this. A thousand congratulations to Mrs. Lizeta!”
“Yes, my wife is very social,” Kleanthis agreed, feeling like an actor in some performance. He turned to Nestor. “And you, young man? How are your studies going?”
“I’m very happy, Mr. Sekeris,” Nestor answered politely.
“And friends? Have you made friends?”
“I don’t have any complaints. At first, my fellow students were a bit standoffish, but now they’ve accepted me.”
“It’s difficult,” said Pericles, entering the conversation, “to be alone in a strange country. At first, when I went to America, I didn’t know anyone, and the language gave me trouble. Books are one thing, but it’s different when you have to not only speak but think in a language that’s not your mother tongue. I spent quite a few months shut up in the house alone. Of course, it’s easier for you because at least Greece isn’t really a foreign country.”
An appropriate topic for conversation had already emerged. Fotis wanted to hear all about America,
and Kleanthis let out a sigh. He glanced at his wife, who was nearby, and took her satisfied smile as an answer.
Lizeta let them talk for a while, then she intervened.
“Tell me,” she said, addressing the younger members of the group, “are you really going to hang around us old people all night?” She pointed to the other side of the large room, where younger guests had gathered and were already dancing. “Off you go! Nestor, take your sister and go and dance!”
“What about me?” said her brother-in-law cheerfully. “Where should I go, Lizeta? With the young ones, or should I stay here?”
“You’re the guest of honor, choose for yourself!” she answered, laughing. “But you kids go!”
It made a great impression on her when Nestor and Chrysafenia turned to their father. With a nod, Fotis gave them his approval. She didn’t move a muscle when she heard Pericles say, “Do you mind if I follow them? I know quite a few of the young people, and I can introduce them around.”
Lizeta didn’t mind. Not at all.
That night, when she lay down beside her husband, he teased her: “Tired out from all that plotting?”
“Listen, Kleanthis,” she replied, “the evening was a complete success in every regard—”
“Oh boy, what’s next?”
“Next?”
“Lizeta!”
“Fine, it’s no big deal. So I invited them for dinner next Sunday.”
“Together with their children, I suppose.”
“Now you’re just being a pain. Would they come by themselves? Don’t you see what sort of family it is? They don’t move an inch without their father’s blessing.”
“Don’t be annoyed, my sweet Machiavelli! I don’t doubt you or your . . . strategy.”
Lizeta waited in agony for that Sunday. She’d played all her cards just right. She said nothing to Pericles about the invitation. She made sure that he’d find out about it in an indirect way when she called the cook in to arrange the menu for Sunday, and only when she left did Pericles ask, “Are we expecting company on Sunday?”
“Nothing formal. My friend Mrs. Ververis will come with her husband and children. Will you be here? Or will you go to your mother’s?” she asked casually.
“Oh, if it’s no trouble, I think I’ll eat with you. They seem like really nice people.”
Lizeta lowered her eyes so he wouldn’t see how they sparkled. Now to plan the next steps.
Lizeta had fate on her side, though she didn’t know it. After the Sunday meal, it was obvious that both the older and the younger members of the group got along well. The visits became more frequent, and it wasn’t long before Pericles proposed to Nestor that the three of them go out to the theater together, a suggestion that was accepted with enthusiasm. Lizeta noticed that there weren’t many conversations between the prospective couple. It was as if they were observing each other meticulously.
And so, the trio found themselves at the National Theater watching The Engagement by Dimitris Bogris. Then the courteous Pericles invited them for dessert at Zacharatos’s café, where they chatted, excited about the play they had just seen.
Without lifting a finger now, Lizeta followed the developments. Pericles began visiting the doctor’s house by himself, and he took Nestor out with him. Understandably, it wasn’t long before memories of Vassilis were awaked in the young man. He found excuses to avoid Pericles. He wouldn’t allow his sister to come with them; he became dejected.
One afternoon, Pericles invited Nestor over to talk, and they shut themselves in Pericles’s room—with Lizeta outside the door following the conversation shamelessly.
“Now,” Pericles began, “I’d like an explanation for your behavior. And I’ll thank you not to underestimate my intelligence by telling me it’s all in my head! Lately, you’ve been avoiding me, refusing my invitations, and when I come to your house, you’re almost hostile. Have I done anything to you? Have I said something wrong?”
“Not in the slightest!” the young man admitted, obviously embarrassed.
“So, I think you owe me an explanation. In the beginning, you seemed to respect my friendship very much.”
“Yes. And if it was just the two of us, I wouldn’t have any reservations.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Look, Pericles, I have nothing against you, and the truth is that, despite the difference in our ages, we have a good time together,” Nestor admitted.
“I’m waiting to hear what the problem is!”
“It has to do with the past.”
He was completely honest with Pericles and told him the whole story of his sister and Vassilis.
“But don’t imagine,” he concluded, “that anything scandalous went on between them.”
“I would never doubt your sister’s honor!” Pericles hastened to reassure him.
“But it still cost her a lot. It’s why we ended up in Greece. But it also cost me a lot because I felt that a trusted friend had exploited me.”
“I understand. And you thought that the story might be repeated with me.”
“Something like that. And I’m begging you to keep what I told you between us. My father wouldn’t approve of my telling you something that is family business.”
Pericles looked at the young man and smiled.
“So, let’s clear some things up, Nestor,” he began seriously. “I’m not some kid like your friend. I won’t lie to you: your sister is a lovely, beautiful girl. But I’m a man and not a boy, and I have no intention to exploit either you or her. For the time being, I enjoy your company—both of you,” he stressed. “If something changes, if I realize, for example, that I’ve fallen in love with Chrysafenia, I give you my word that you’ll be the first to know—after her. Are you happy with that?”
“I think so.”
“And just so you know, I also had a girl I thought was the love of my life, but I was young and inexperienced. Later, I realized I’d been deceived: I mistook infatuation for love, and I don’t want to go through that again. I’m at an age now when I can’t afford mistakes, and through our friendship I have the opportunity to get to know a girl and be certain of her character and opinions, as well as being quite sure of my real feelings. So, I’m not hiding the fact that your sister interests me.”
“I respect your honesty.”
“That’s why I asked you to come, so that we could speak openly. And if I did declare my love to her, I wouldn’t allow my parents or anyone else to get in the way. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes.”
“So, can we continue to go out together without any obstacles?”
They shook hands, and Lizeta slipped away smiling. Things were going even better than she’d expected.
A bad cold was the excuse. Nestor came down with a fever on the day Pericles appeared to accompany the two siblings to a performance of Stella Violanti, at the National.
“What bad luck!” he said when he saw his friend lying down with a wet cloth on his forehead.
Beside Nestor sat Smaragda, looking after him anxiously.
“Yes, my child,” she agreed. “I keep telling him to wear a scarf when he goes out. Spring may be here, but the cold is still biting. But he doesn’t listen to me, the crazy boy, and now look! Maybe he’ll learn his lesson. And you, dear boy, why didn’t you warn your friend that you couldn’t go out? Why make him come here for nothing?”
“Because I thought,” Nestor said, coughing, “there’s no reason for our Chrysafenia to miss the performance. Unless Father won’t allow it.”
“I’ll go and ask him, sweetheart.”
She glanced apologetically at the guest. Behind her back, Pericles looked inquiringly at his friend.
“Does it seem like a forgone conclusion?” he asked with an ironic smile.
“I’d say the gift of an opportunity. Anyway, we’ve talked and agreed about things.”
“And not the slightest thing will change.”
In the living room, Smaragda approached h
er husband, who was reading his newspaper.
“Fotis, dear,” she began in a supplicating tone, but he gave her an annoyed look.
“Smaragda, I told you to be patient. His fever will fall. Just now I gave him—”
“No, my dear. That’s not what I wanted to ask you. Look, Pericles came to take the children to the theater, and Nestor said, seeing as he can’t go, that Chrysafenia should go with Pericles by herself.”
Her husband put his newspaper aside and stood up. He looked deep into his wife’s eyes.
“Our son said that?”
“Yes, dear.”
“And what do you say?”
“I say she should go,” she answered calmly.
“Then she can go.”
With this approval in hand, Smaragda went into her daughter’s room.
“Chrysafenia dear, Pericles is here.”
“I know, but since Nestor—what a day he picked to get sick!” she said irritably.
“It’s not like he wanted to! And your brother doesn’t want you to miss the theater. If you want to go—”
“By myself, with Pericles?” the girl asked in surprise. “What about Father?”
“Your father said that, if Nestor approves, you can go. Just dress warmly because I can’t deal with any more illnesses,” she concluded severely, leaving her daughter to get dressed.
As soon as she was alone, Chrysafenia ran to the mirror and made a strict appraisal of her appearance. She felt so strange. For the first time in her life, she was going out with someone who wasn’t a relative but a handsome young man. Just thinking about it made her cheeks burn. She had gone out many times now with Pericles, but always with her brother as well. She was a little nervous.
She took her overcoat and gloves, put on her hat, and then became angry with herself. What had come over her? It wasn’t a date. She was just going to the theater with a friend. The man had never given her the right to suppose he had eyes for her. His behavior was always courteous and proper. Shaking off her nerves, she went to meet him, and they left together.
