Good Greek Girls Don't (28 page)

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Authors: Georgia Tsialtas

Tags: #Fiction

BOOK: Good Greek Girls Don't
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‘Does anyone know about this?' The cat is out of the bag now; there is no harm in letting me in on the secret. I won't kill who ever helped him keep me in the dark. I must just hug them – they helped Chris plan the best surprise of my life!

‘Effie probably has a good idea what's going.' Ah-ha! I knew my sister was in on it. My butt she got there just in time to greet the delivery man. My butt it was just a coincidence.

‘She came shopping with me to make sure I got the sizes right.' I knew it. I just knew it.

‘And she had to make sure it was all delivered at the right time.' No wonder she was so eager to make sure I looked just right. No wonder she was so adamant that she do my make-up for me. I'm glad that she was able to share in this in her own unique way. I'm glad she now wants to share in my happiness instead of destroying it. There is one little problem with this whole set up tonight, though.

‘Are we staying here tonight? My baby's nod tells me all I need to know. My mother is going to flip if I don't make it home eventually. ‘I should call home.'

‘Effie's taken care of that, too.' I really have to buy my sister the biggest bunch of flowers. I owe her big time.

‘You've thought of everything, haven't you?' Or so he thinks. I think Chris has failed to consider one important factor.

‘I think so. Look under the bed.' What the? Okay, this is freaky. Chris was not carrying anything when we went to the airport. I'm sure he did not check any luggage in. I love my sister but she better not be hiding out in the bathroom. He's got everything that I need in here, and then some.

‘How?' Words are escaping me at the moment.

‘Your sister packed it for me earlier in the week, and I couriered it up here.'

This is too much.

‘Did you get her to put this in here, too?' Who else would include a parcel wrapped in purple tissue paper? This has to be Chris's handiwork.

‘That one's a mystery to me, babe. Must be from you sis.'

The mystery deepens. I open the envelope that's taped to the package.
‘Desi, Have a wonderful night,
and never doubt how happy I am for you. Happy Birthday,
sis … Effie.'

I'm going to cry. I'm amazed at how my relationship with Effie has turned around. It's made me realise how much I need her and love her.

I tear away the tissue paper and stare in amazement at what's wrapped up inside it. I cannot believe my straight-laced sister went and bought me purple lingerie. I have definitely underestimated Effie!

‘You going to model that for me, babe?' I think I know how we'll be celebrating our engagement. Over and over again.

----------22----------
I'm getting married! This is one for the record books! I was always so anti-Greek when it came to all things domestic and I certainly wasn't going to let anyone push me into marriage. I was Miss Independent. But no one pushed me into this, no one forced me. This was all my decision, my choice. And what a choice I've made. Chris, my honey, my darling. All the crap has been worth it; all the bad stuff that has happened, it was all for a reason. I now have Chris.

He looks so cute when he's asleep. So perfect. I could stare at him like this forever. It was kind of late by the time we got to sleep last night. More like this morning. Well, we had to celebrate our engagement, didn't we? And celebrate we did. We celebrated in the bed, we celebrated on the sand and we celebrated in the spa. I don't ever want to leave this bed, ever leave this room, ever leave this hotel. I wonder how long we can stay here for?

‘What are you staring at?' Oops. He's caught me staring at him. How embarrassing.

‘Nothing.' Go back to sleep, Chris, so I can get back to staring at you and picturing our life together. Living by the beach, just my baby and me, pampering each other, making love every night, and in a few years we'll have our first kid, a beautiful kid, of course, given that it will take after Chris. Okay, so maybe I am a bit romantic and idealistic. Hell, I'm allowed to be – I'm engaged!

‘Are you daydreaming, Des?' His voice is so sexy when he first wakes up. An eternity of this? I'm in heaven. This is bliss.

‘Maybe. Just a little. This whole thing feel, like one big daydream. I keep expecting my mother to start banging on the door wanting to know if I'm finished in the bathroom yet. She isn't, is she?' Hey, I have to ask. I have to be sure last night really happened. Yep, the rock is still there on my finger, glistening in the streaks of sunshine coming in through the curtains. If this is a fantasy, I am never going back to reality.

‘Nope, sorry, Des, your mother is not going to come barging through the door. You're stuck here with me.' Perfect, couldn't ask for anything more. ‘I haven't just set myself up to marry a bathroom hog, have I?'

‘Yep, and that's not the half of it, babe. Bathroom hog, hot water hog, blanket hog, last teaspoon of coffee hog. You name it, I hog it.'

‘So you've been deceiving me all this time, faking not being a hog?'

‘God, yeah. And it worked.' I climb on top of Chris slowly and steadily. Must emphasise my point here. Ah, perfect. ‘Got you right where I want you, babe.' Whoa baby, I'm spinning, I'm tumbling. He's good – I'm flat on my back and I didn't even manage a blink.

‘And right where I want to be, babe. Where I want to be forever, Des.' I don't think we'll be checking out of this hotel room any time soon. Suits me fine.

I've got Chris. He's got me. Now all we have to worry about is the oldies spitting the dummy.

‘How big a spit do you think it'll be?' Chris sure doesn't know my family too well.

‘Colossal.' After all, we are depriving them of the opportunity of a lifetime – to throw us a huge wog engagement party. ‘Bigger than if we were announcing that we were going to live together in sin.'

I can just picture it now. The wailing, the lamenting, my mother affirming that we have broken her heart and that we may as well have stabbed her with the sharpest knife and plunged it into her soul over and over again. The despair –
‘what will people say?'

‘We'll deal with it.' That's my Chris, the eternal optimist. ‘Besides, it's our decision. It's what we want.' Too right. ‘So what's the plan of attack for tonight?'

For the millionth and last time, I run through everything again. ‘We should be back at your place by five-thirty. Food, flowers and cake are getting delivered around six-thirty. You need to go pick up some drinks and champagne. Everyone should start arriving around seven-thirty. Now can you stop stressing so that I can enjoy the rest of the flight?' Being the happy, gushing and glowing just-engaged couple that we are, we got upgraded to first class. Not that business class was too shabby, but I want to enjoy this.

‘Des, are you sure you're okay with this?' If Chris keeps worrying I may have to take drastic measures.

‘Honey, this is perfect. I don't want the typical Greek shit of an engagement, where we invite every wog and their dog that ever crossed our parents' paths. I don't want people there who only want something to gossip about and pick on. I don't want people there that we would only see once a year at a wedding, baptism or funeral. What we're doing tonight is perfect. And if the oldies don't like it, they can deal with it.' Jeez, when did our roles get reversed with Chris becoming the neurotic one? I want things back the way they were – Chris, the balanced and logical one, and me, the fruitcake. It's an equation that works well for us.

Okay, everything is set. Ready to go. Now all we have to do is wait for the troops to arrive.

I think I've gotten a million calls since we landed; with everyone wanting to know what's going on. Boy, my family is impatient. First Tas, then Effie, then Poppy. Even my father's curiosity got the better of him and he left the tomatoes and cucumbers long enough to call me. Oddly enough, Mum and Yiayia are the only ones who haven't called to question why we've invited everyone over to Chris's. But Ricki threatened not to show up if I didn't tell her what was going on. Chris's parents were just the same, wanting to know what we had planned for the evening. Hell, we invite people over for dinner and they automatically assume that something is going on. Okay, so maybe there is, but why is everyone so suspicious? Chris's sister Jenny didn't question us, didn't ask questions, just said she and her husband would see us when they got here. Why couldn't everyone be as casual as she is? Even Chris's best friend Evan didn't believe us when we said we were simply inviting him over for dinner. Are our lying skills that bad? Have I finally lost my edge?

‘Honey, have you got enough drinks, glasses, plates and stuff?' It's now my turn to go into panic mode. I think I've got an excuse though – I've never thrown an impromptu engagement party before. One minute I'm lying in bed with Chris on the Gold Coast wondering how we were going to announce this to our families, and the next thing I know I'm calling caterers, florists, family and friends. I don't think Chris or I actually stopped to think just how exhausting or just how difficult it would be to arrange all this at the last minute. Ever tried to get a caterer at the last minute on a Sunday? But we did it.

I don't know how, but somehow we did. And our credit cards may never recover. Now let's just hope our families can be nice and understanding and get along. After all, not only are our parents finding out that their kids are getting married but they are also meeting each other for the very first time. I wonder if it's too late to change our minds about this whole thing? Probably, given that everyone is due to arrive within half an hour. Time to sink or swim. This is either going to go off without a hitch or be an absolute disaster. No middle ground.

‘We've got plenty of everything, Des. Except valium. I've got a feeling we might need to sedate our mothers when they find out this is the only engagement party they are going to get.'

Everyone is here. My God, the questions! I've been strategically hiding my ring so that I can show it off when we make the big announcement, but when Ricki got here, all I wanted to do was drag her away from everyone so I could shout it out and jump up and down and share it with my best friend. I can't wait to see the look on her face. And my mother. She already has a bigger grin on her face than the Cheshire Cat. I think she has put two and two together and is definitely coming up with four, like four-course dinner at Ultima Receptions.

So far the oldies have gotten along okay. Our dads simply fell into the traditional conversations: vegetables, the government, here and in Greece, soccer and all those wonderful things that make their worlds go 'round. And our mothers? Well, they of course started talking about children and the heartache we put them through until we finally grow up and settle down.

‘Come on, Des, we have to tell them.'

I'm too nervous to tell them. I want to put off the explosion that is bound to happen just a little bit longer.

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