rich people who only want things to go their own way and never mind family members who don’t fit in with the path you decide they should take. Like my mother. Like you yourself, Nikos.”
Spiros turned in surprised to look at his grandson. “What has Nikos to do with this?”
“You and his father pressured him to join the family shipping firm. Pressured him for marriage with a ‘suitable’ woman—translated to mean ‘equally wealthy’. What about what he wants?”
Nikos shrugged when his grandfather looked at him.
Sara wasn’t finished. “Instead of following your dictates he made his own way. Do you ever really see what he’s done? Ever give him praise for fighting against the current and still coming out with something marvelous?” she continued, impassioned.
Spiros looked back and forth between Sara and Nikos. “It is true I wished for Nikos to join our shipping firm. But I see now it would have been a mistake. It was hard enough to let go the reins when Andrus took over. Two strong personalities are more than the company can bear. Nikos added to the mixture would have been a mistake. He was wise to go into a field he chose.”
“And to have done so well,” she added.
Spiros’s features softened a fraction. “So you stand up for Nikos?”
“I’m not standing up for anyone but me. I’m stating facts.”
“Then listen to this fact,” Eleani said. “Damaris ran out on her wedding. We were the ones who had to tell Alexis she wasn’t coming. We had to face our friends, business acquaintances, family and say our daughter had shamed us in front of everyone. She ignored all we had done for her and ran off with an irresponsible man who wanted access to our money. Your grandfather was heartsick. It pained him greatly, and he refused to have any more to do with her while she was with your father. But had she left him, we would have welcomed her home—despite the shame she brought to our family. Even now, when I see Alexis, I am embarrassed. He is such a nice young man. She would have done so well to marry him. He says he has no hard feelings, but she had to have hurt his pride if nothing else. He loved her, you know.”
Sara stared first at Eleani then at Spiros. She was taken aback by the revelation. Had her mother lied all these years? Or merely glossed over the details of the truth? Either way, she had painted an entirely different picture in Sara’s mind.
“Come, sit down and tell us about Eleani’s only child,” Spiros said gently.
Sara was very aware that Nikos was standing at her side. She went to a chair and sat gingerly on the edge. He moved to stand farther away, gazing out to the sea.
“You need to stop crying now, Eleani. Listen to what Sara tells us,” he said gently.
Eleani nodded, blotted her eyes again and leaned against Spiros as if for strength.
Sara didn’t know where to begin. She ached for the difficulty of her mother’s life. And from Eleani’s reaction, she had believed her daughter had led an entirely different life.
“I only know the past from what I was told. My mother had hardly been in England six weeks before she knew her parents had been correct about the man she’d run off with. It had been romance, pure and simple, that had persuaded her to leave her family home. She had believed herself to be in love. She railed against the intractable demands her father had made—marrying to ensure the family coffers. She had believed my father to be different from who he truly was. She did not have the wisdom to see reality. She was eighteen for heaven’s sake.”
“She wasn’t forced to wed Alexis. We thought she was captivated by him. He was only six years older, and very much in love with Damaris,” Eleani said. “We were pleased. His family is very respected.”
“So why did your mother not return home once she realized her mistake?” Nikos asked.
“No money. No welcome.” Sara hesitated a moment. “Pride. And she was pregnant with me. She said she wrote to her father asking for help. He refused. She swore over and over she would never ask again.”
Eleani gave a small sound. “Ah, that stubborn pride of the Marcopusoses. Always I had to fight against it. For years I asked him to find our daughter. He finally gave in and said he’d have a private detective locate her. Weeks later he said Damaris was happy with her life and that was the end of it. He must have approached her and been rebuffed and rather than tell me, he concocted such a story.”
Sara shook her head, frowning. “When my father vanished, she was not yet twenty, a single parent with no skills. One of her friends helped by watching me nights after her own day of work so Mum could go and clean offices. That was the best job she could get for a long time.”
Eleani groaned softly. “My precious baby girl,” she whispered.
“Go on,” Nikos said.
Sara turned to look at him. “I’m telling this.”
“Not fast enough.”
“Let her proceed at her own pace,” Spiros said.
“We lived in a section of London with a large group of Greek expats. It was the best thing on one hand—everyone knew everybody else. We shared the language, the food. But it constantly reminded my mother of all she’d lost.”
Slowly, as if viewing the scene for the first time, Sara continued.
“It was only after she was diagnosed with cancer that she began to talk about contacting you. We learned from mutual friends of her father’s death and your remarriage. My mother wrote a letter and mailed it. It was returned. By then she was really ill. She wrote the one I brought today. After her death, I tried contacting you. I ended up here.”
“I thought she was happy,” Eleani repeated. “Stanos told me that.”
Had her mother’s stiff-necked pride kept her from her home? Sara remembered some of the pretending they had done when she was younger—to preserve her mother’s standing with her friends. Excess pride. None of it mattered anymore. She’d fulfilled her promise. “That’s it. May I go now?”
“No. Stay. I want to hear all about Damaris and you,” Eleani said. She lifted the letter. “Damaris asked me to watch out for you.”
“I don’t need watching out for.” She had her own share of the family pride.
“Bad choice of words. How about having close contact with your grandmother,” Nikos said.
Sara flashed him a look and then returned her gaze to Eleani. “What do you want to know about Mum?”
“Nikos has raved about your cooking. How did you choose that profession? Did Damaris ever learn to cook? We had a chef at home so she never learned as a child,” Eleani said.
Sara smiled in memory. “Mum was okay as a cook, at least by the time I noticed such things. But nothing special. She loved the big gatherings best when everyone brought something. Authentic Greek food was what she craved, but we also ate English. I think some of my reasons for going into food preparation was to explore new dishes in self-defense against Mum’s limited choices.”
Talking helped show Sara she no longer felt the burning ache of loss after
