“I’m sure he told you that I’d like to work for your foundation.”
He felt an earnestness—a sweetness—coming from her that caught him off guard. “He made that clear.”
She clasped her hands. “When he spoke on my behalf with Ms. Kallistos, she said I didn’t have the kind of background she was looking for.”
“But Father Debakis feels that you do. Tell me about yourself. Why would you want to work for the foundation as opposed to somewhere else, or do another type of work entirely?”
“He didn’t tell you?” She looked surprised.
“No. He’s a man of few words.”
“But he makes them count,” she said with a smile that told him she’d had a running relationship with the priest.
Vasso agreed with her assessment. The priest had an amazing way of making his point. It had gotten Vasso to conduct this interview, which was out of the ordinary. “Why not start at the beginning, thespinis?”
She nodded. “I’ve been a patient here with non-Hodgkins lymphoma for the last year and was just released on the ninth of this month.”
A patient...
Knowing what that meant, he swallowed hard. Vasso had thought of several reasons for the possible conflict between the two women. He thought back to a year ago when another manager had to resign because of health issues. When they’d hired Alexandra, Zoe Zachos had already been a patient here. The two had seen each other coming and going for months. But it didn’t explain the problem that caused Alexandra to turn down Zoe’s request.
“I was thrilled to be told I was cured.”
The joy in her countenance was something Vasso would never be able to describe adequately. “That’s wonderful news,” he said in a thick-toned voice.
“Isn’t it?” She leaned forward with a light in those marvelous green eyes. “It’s all because of your family. The foundation you established literally gave me back my life!” The tremor in her voice resonated inside him.
He had to clear his throat. “To hear your testimonial is very gratifying, Thespinis Zachos.”
“There’s no way to pay you back monetarily. But I would love to work for you in some capacity for the rest of my life. I’m a good cook and could work in the hospital kitchen, or in the laundry, or give assistance to those convalescing. Give me a job and I’ll do it to the best of my ability. The trouble is Ms. Kallistos told Father Debakis that without a college degree and no experience in the health field, there was no point in interviewing me.
“She wondered if I might not be better suited to becoming a nun if I wanted to be of service to others.” A nun? “I’m sure she was just teasing. Father Debakis and I laughed over that. I’m hardly nun material. But I do want to make a difference.”
Vasso’s anger flared. Not so much at Alexandra as at himself and Akis. At the time they hired her, both he and Akis had decided she had the best credentials for the important position even if she was younger. But Vasso could see there was a great deal more to finding the right person for this particular job than what was put on paper. Since Zoe had been a patient here for such a long time, surely Alexandra could have shown a little more understanding.
“Whatever was said, you have a great advocate in Father Debakis. How did you come to know him?”
“My parents owned a Greek taverna and we lived in the apartment above it here in Astoria near the Sacred Trinity Church. Father Debakis was serving there when I was just a young girl and always took an interest in our family. If it hadn’t been for him, I’m not sure I’d be alive today.”
“Why do you say that?”
An expression of unspeakable sorrow brought shadows to her classic features, changing her demeanor. “A year ago I’d gone to a movie with some friends from the neighborhood. We walked home after it was over. It was late. My parents would have been in bed.”
She paused before saying, “When we got there, it looked like a war zone. Someone said there’d been an explosion. I ran towards the fire chief who told me an arsonist had planted a bomb in the back of the laundry next door to my parents’ taverna where I sometimes helped out part-time. Fire spread to the taverna’s kitchen. Everything went up in smoke. My parents died. So did the owners next door who’d run the laundry for many years.”
“Dear Lord.” Vasso couldn’t fathom it.
“Everything burned. Family photos, precious possessions, clothes—all was gone. I’ve always lived with my parents and worked in the restaurant kitchen to save money while I went to college. The scene was so horrific, I collapsed. When I came to, I was in the ER at the local hospital. Father Debakis was the first person I saw when I woke up.
“He told me the doctor had examined me and had discovered a lump in my neck.” Vasso saw her shudder. It brought out a protective instinct in him he hadn’t felt since he and Akis were on their own after their father died. Though Akis was only eleven months younger, their dying father had charged Vasso to look after his younger brother.
“Honestly, I’m still surprised I didn’t die that night. I wanted to. I was convinced my life was over. He, along with Iris Themis, one of the women on the church humanitarian council, wouldn’t let me give up.
“They are wonderful people who did everything to help me physically and spiritually in order to deal with my grief. The diagnosis of cancer added another level of despair. My parents and I had never taken a handout from anyone. For them to shower me with clothes and toiletries lost in the fire besides being there for comfort, meant I felt overwhelmed with their generosity.”
Vasso got up from the chair, unable to remain seated. Father Debakis had told him she was a very special young woman.
“Before the fire and my illness, I’d planned to finish my last semester of college to get my English degree. I’d even thought of going on to get a secondary school teaching certificate. Because I had to work at night and go to school during the day, my education had to be strung out.”
A sad laugh escaped her lips. “At twenty-four I would have been one of the oldest college graduates around, but the enormity of losing my parents this last year along with the lymphoma has changed my focus.”
“It would change anyone’s.” When Vasso’s father had died of the disease, the world he and Akis had grown up in was changed for all time. They’d adored their father who was too poor to get the medical treatment needed. As he slipped away from them, they’d vowed never to feel that helpless again.
He watched as she re-crossed her elegant legs. “While I was still at the hospital, I met with a cancer specialist who discussed my illness with me. My student insurance would only cover a portion of the costs. There was only a little money from my parents’ savings to add to the amount owing.
“With their insurance I was able to pay off my student loan. What I had left was the small savings in my bank account that wouldn’t keep me alive more than a couple of months. I was trapped in a black abyss when Father Debakis and Iris came to get me and bring me here.
“I was told the center existed to help Greek Americans with lymphoma
