Seven Days of Friday (Women of Greece Book 1) (29 page)

S
trange morning
.

Could be a movie set – nothing is as it seems. Everyone’s lines are rehearsed.

“I am going to see Dora,” Eleni says, sometime after the watermelon truck swings by. “Do not fuss if I come in late.”

Vivi does a Melissa. “Fine. Whatever.”

Dusting, sweeping, dishes, laundry. A place for everything, and everything in its place.

Melissa is sleeping off her rough night.

Good, Vivi thinks. The girl is going to need it. She’s got a lot of things planned for her daughter. Time-consuming things. Fruit picking, olive picking, school. If she likes the olive grove so much, Vivi can make it her second home.

After the harvest, she’ll reevaluate.

One toe out of line and Melissa will be picking olives until her twenty-first birthday.

Biff is restless. Back and forth, back and forth.

Constantly alert.

What does he know that she doesn’t?

D
oc
,” Vassili says, “you
were right about the scars.”

“Huh?”

The kid is looking at him like he’s lost it. “The scars from the needles. Girls like them.”

Max comes back to earth. This isn’t the time or place to get lost.

“You move fast. Who’s the lucky girl?”

“Just a girl. Not the one I really like. She’s into my friend.”

“So steal her.”

Vassili grins. “I don't think my girlfriend would be happy.”

Max returns the grin. “You’re all clear. I’ll see you in a month.”

“I've got a football game coming up. Can I play?”

“If you feel good enough to play, play.”

Then it’s back to kicking himself. It’s keeping his erection away.

Vivi’s the problem. He can’t stop thinking about fucking her. And then fucking her over.

What’s he going to do?

His phone has been a brick all morning. No good news, no bad news. No Vivi, but no Mama or Anastasia.

One of those mixed blessings people are always talking about.

A
nastasia doesn’t call
.

Anastasia shows up.

Marches down the hall on her long legs, cutting a clean path to confrontation. She’s wearing an inch of war paint.

Looking at her now, she seems so obvious. Even if he never makes things right with Vivi, Anastasia’s no longer a contender. Better to be alone than married to misery.

His head nearly comes clean off his shoulders when she strikes, but he doesn’t hit back. Doesn’t say anything, either. Let her play out her melodrama. Have her five minutes of attention and years of (hospital) infamy.

“You . . . you . . . gypsy! You dog!”

She hits him again, and he gives her the same nothing.

“I can’t stand to look at you,” she says.

“So don’t look at me. The door is that way.” He points back the way she just came. “I’m trying to work here, and I don’t want you scaring the children.”

“Always with the children! Aren't I important too?”

“We broke up, Anastasia. Last night. If you’ve got amnesia, I know a guy.”

But Anastasia, she talks right over him. “Every time you tell me you have to go to the hospital, I pray the children will go away so that you can come back to bed. You give everything to this place, there's nothing left for me.”

Now she’s attracting attention from people with bigger problems. Nurses, parents, patients – all curious.

He tries steering her into the waiting room. She slaps him away.

“Stop pushing me, Max. This is the problem, this hospital. We would be fine if you would just open your own clinic – ”

“That's not what I – ”

“We could be happy, and your mother could have her grandchildren.”

“ – want. I don't want children with you. I don’t want you.”

Third strike and he’s out of patience. He’s ready for her incoming hand. He pushes it down to her side.

“We’re done,” he says. “I told you that last night. Believe it.”

“It's because of her, isn't it? That American
putana
.”

“Vivi's not a whore.”

Still holding her wrist, he steers her into the waiting room. Only one woman waiting, nose in a magazine. He gives her a look and she’s gone. “Vivi or no Vivi, you and I are finished. Done. No more. No wedding. I’m sorry, but that’s how it is.”

That’s her cue to cry. “But I love you.”

“No, you love that I have earning potential.”

He shakes her off, but she’s not done with him yet.

“I forgive you,” she says, dangerous glint in her eyes. “But I told you, if I find you cheating, I will kill the other woman. You'll never have her again. I followed you last night, I know where she lives.”

Max shoves his finger in her face. “Touch her and I’ll kill you. I can make it look like it was God’s will.”

S
irens mean
it’s howl
o’clock – just ask Biff. The dog is determined to drown them out with his voice.

Not happening. Those sirens are getting closer, louder.

Vivi shuts him inside, runs out to investigate. There’s a bitter taste in her mouth, a bell in her head.

Police car. Ambulance. Police car.

In precisely that configuration. Which means there’s trouble and somebody is hurt.

All three vehicles stop outside the gate.

Melissa appears at her side. She’s paler than the chunk of feta in their refrigerator. “Mom, what’s going on?”

She puts an arm around Melissa’s shoulder, fakes confidence she doesn’t feel. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

But it is something, isn’t it? Otherwise she wouldn’t be looking at three key pieces of evidence. The whole thing makes her want to run for the phone, call her aunt to make sure her mother made it over there okay.

Car doors open and cops step out into the sun. They’re all wearing shades, so Vivi’s the only one squinting. The stout one comes over. He’s bulging over the holster strapped to his waist.

“Paraskevi Tyler?”

“I’m Vivi Tyler.”

He looks past her, not at her. Up, up, toward the trees.

“We need access to your land.”

Her pulse is going wild. It’s pushing all the blood away from her head to her feet.

“Of course, whatever you need to do. Is someone hurt?”

“Dead.” He nods to the paramedics, gives them the go-ahead. “There a road up there?”

“No road.”

“We're on foot then,” he calls out. They’re pulling a stretcher out of the ambulance.

“Can you tell me anything else?”

“Can’t tell you what I don’t know,” he says.

I
t’s wildfire
, the way the news spreads. Soon half the town (it seems like) is outside her house. This is primo gossip and they want to drink straight from the source.

She locks Biff in the bathroom so he doesn’t go
Cujo
on them.

An hour and counting since the cops and paramedics vanished. Every so often she spots another one traipsing up to join them. A news van shows up, but the crowd swallows them. If the townspeople can’t get information, no one can.

Melissa’s one of the walking dead. She’s been in a chair on the porch this whole time, staring at nothing, saying nothing.

Vivi picks up a box of plums. If she doesn’t do something with them soon, they’re going to rot.

“Want to help me, Kiddo?”

Melissa shakes her head slowly, fate of the whole world balanced on top.

“Suit yourself. I’m going to feed the masses. It’s not fishes and loaves, but then I’m not Jesus.”

Big crowd.

“I can't offer much,” she calls out. “But I have plenty of home grown fruit right here. Help yourselves.”

“What's going on?” a woman shouts.

“I know as much as you do,” Vivi tells her. “Which is nothing.”

She passes the box over the fence and goes back inside.

The phone rings.

“Vivi? It's Max. Are you okay?”

She’s disappointed and excited. What a combination.

“Yes . . . No. I'm not sure. Max, the police are here – ”

“Good,” he says. “Make sure they stay there.”

“You heard about the dead woman all the way over there?”

There’s a pause, then: “Dead woman?”

She fills in the blanks. It’s sketchy, at best, but it’s what she’s got.

“I'll be right there, Vivi. If Anastasia shows up, don't let her in.”

“What does she have to do with this?”

“Nothing, I hope. God, I want you.”

Click
.

He wants her. John never wanted her.

She drops into the chair beside Melissa.

“Mom,” Melissa says. “I need to tell you something.”

V
ivi is looking
into
a black hole.

“Don't be mad, Mom,” Melissa says. “I was scared. We were yelling at each other, and when she hit that rock – ”

“I get the picture.” Vivi rubs her face. “So let me get this straight. The body up there is Olivia, and she's dead because you two had a fight and you pushed her?”

“She had sex with Thanasi.”

“Okay, I think we've already established that he's a douche.” Think, Vivi, think. “Was she still alive when you came back to the house?”

“I don't know!”

The poor kid is shaking. She’s white-knuckled and pale-faced. Vivi wants to hug the stuffing out of her, make everything okay, but first . . .

First . . .

“Sit. Stay.”

Right now she needs to do normal. What’s more normal than Coke?

Nothing, except maybe pizza.

She pours two Cokes into tall glasses, dumps a couple of ice cubes in each. Then it’s back to Melissa. Coke in hand, it’s easy to believe the police aren’t combing the property for the girl Melissa killed. An accident, of course.

“The moment this Coke is finished, I’m going to call a lawyer. If the police ask you anything, don’t say a word. Let the lawyer be your mouth, okay?”

“Okay. But – ”

“Drink up,” Vivi says. “Let’s be normal for five minutes.”

Suddenly, there’s motion on the edge of the grove. Three policemen stomp over the rise. The paramedics follow, two of them stringing a gurney between them. As they get closer, she gets a look at the black bag.

“What's the black thing?” Melissa wants to know.

“Body bag. They put the . . . the body inside to protect it.” And us.

“Oh.”

No telling from here who is inside. A body bag is manufactured to be ambiguous. Even the size and shape of the deceased is a mystery.

What if it’s not Olivia? Vivi thinks. What if it’s Mom? How can she call her father and tell him that?

What’s she going to do without her mother to spar with?

Olivia, Mom, whoever – there’s no happy outcome here. Even if it’s a stranger, it’s still someone who is lost to someone who cares.

S
he doesn’t hear
the Jeep – how could she with this ruckus?

The tension is high. So when Max sticks his head in the door she jumps.

He looks good, but now isn’t their time. Which is why they both leave a wide stretch of warm air between them.

“Hey,” she says.

Yeah, he looks good, but also tired. His hair’s tousled and his five o’clock shadow got an extension to early afternoon.

“I got here as fast as I could.”

There’s no time to act all cool and nonchalant because he’s not alone. Behind him is Eleni, sans body bag. Vivi could be a rocket ship, the way she launches herself at her mother. Feels great to hug her, but she never noticed before how fragile and tiny Eleni is.

Death shoves everything under a lens.

“Mom, you’re okay!”

“Of course I am okay. Why would I not be okay? I told you not to worry – no? What is going on? It is worse than the zoo out there. What did you do, Vivi?”

Things, they never change.

Which is why people freak out when they do.

“I picked her up outside the church,” Max says.

Vivi turns on the high-wattage smile. “Thank you.”

“You guys okay?” he asks.

“We’re okay,” Vivi tells him. Or maybe not . . .

“Okay,” he says, looking out the window. “I’ll be right back.”

“Wait – ”

Too late.

They go out onto the porch, where Melissa’s stretching out that Coke.

Eleni doesn’t sit. “Now will you tell me what is going on? Why are the police and the ambulance and half the town outside your house?”

Vivi doesn’t look at Melissa.

“Somebody’s dead. We don’t know who, yet.”

“And you thought maybe it was me?”

“Maybe.”

The older woman laughs. “Silly Vivi. Look: I am as healthy as an ox. Maybe five oxen. I could pull a plow, no problem.”

“I’ll remember that if I ever buy a plow.” Melissa finally hits the glass’s rock bottom. Vivi says, “I’m going to make a quick phone call. This time, stay with Mel, okay? Don’t wander off.”

Eleni follows her into the house. So does Melissa.

Vivi looks at them both. “What did I say?”

“Eh, who knows?” Eleni says. “I want to see what your doctor is doing out there.”

“Not my doctor. He’s just a friend.”

Yeah right. Last night? Definitely not what “just friends” do.

“He's handsome and not gay,” Eleni says. “You could do worse. Look at John.”

“Hey, John is still Melissa’s father. And Max’s mother is crazy.”

“All mothers are crazy.”

Vivi says, “I’m not crazy.”

“Of course you are, Vivi.”

Melissa laughs.

“You’re grounded,” Vivi tells her.

“No, you’re not,” Eleni says.

Melissa says, “I’m already grounded.”

“Why is my granddaughter grounded?”

“I need to make a phone call,” Vivi repeats.

Eleni shrugs. “So make your phone call. We are going to watch out the window.”

Vivi stands there, because what’s she going to do? She doesn’t want to call a lawyer with her mother in spitting distance. Doesn’t want to tell her Melissa’s business, at least not until they know something.

“He looks at you like you are a slice of my
galaktobouriko
,” Eleni says from the window.

And Vivi thinks: Yes, and last night he ate me like I was, too.

“Mom, I know it’s not your
galaktobouriko
.”

“Whose is it then? Your father cannot cook.”

As the adage goes: If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. Vivi shoves her face alongside theirs at the window. It’s a circus out there. No animals, but a lot of clowns.

Max and the chubby cop are talking. The policeman nods and Max walks over to the paramedics and their black bag. More conversation, then Max opens the bag, takes a good look inside.

Melissa recoils. “Eww, how can he do that?”

“He’s a doctor, Honey. They see death all the time, the way your dad sees houses.”

Vivi’s heart is going wild. The gushing blood is making it hard to hear, to think. She’s telling herself to be calm, but she can’t be calm until she knows who is or isn’t in the bag.

Too far away to read Max’s lips. And they’re talking at a gallop, anyway. Is it her imagination, or did he just glance their way?

The bees in her ears won’t shut up.

Finally, he zips up. They all do a lot of hand waving to punctuate the conversation. Then they’re done, and police and paramedics are on their way.

Max jumps the fence, cuts across to the house. Vivi is going to explode if he doesn’t get here right now.

“Well? Who is it?” Eleni demands.

Melissa's complexion is going gray.

“It's a woman. Badly bloated, so there is no ID yet. Normally decomposition wouldn't be so far along, but the heat . . .”

“What was she wearing?”

“All black. Some gray hair. She is – was – an older woman.”

Vivi’s knees wobble. It’s not Olivia.

But now there are two new questions on the table: Who is the dead woman? And what happened to Olivia?

“She could be anyone,” Max says. “An old man up in the woods found her hanging from a tree.”

Takis. It had to be.

“Was it a suicide, do you think?” Eleni wants to know.

He shrugs. “Hard to say.” But his expression is shuttering.

Vivi makes coffee. That way she looks busy. “Do you think it was murder?” she asks.

“That's for the police to determine.”

Not exactly reassuring.

“Coffee?” she asks.

Max says, “Can we talk?”

Eleni is all over that. “What about?”

“Yes.” She gives her mother a dirty look. “Mom, make the coffee.”

She leads him outside, out back where the people aren’t. Her heart is thumping with a new kind of anxiety.

He looks at her. She looks at the trees.

“I ended my engagement.”

“You already told me.”

“I know. I ended it last night.”

So recently? Not even a page between women.

“Before we had sex? Please tell me it was before we had sex.”

“Yes, of course.”

She switches her gaze to another equally fascinating tree. Fabulous leaves. Strong trunk. Won’t fall down in a storm. What is that fruit called again?

“Okay, so I’m rebound woman. But at least you didn’t cheat.”

“Vivi, you’re not rebound woman. You’re not meant to be anyone’s consolation prize.”

“Logically, I know that,” Vivi says. “But I feel like the runner up.”

He takes her hand. This – this is what she knows. The sales pitch. John was a salesman and now Max is, too.

Too bad she’s not in the market for bullshit.

“Anastasia was never my choice. But I went along with it for all the wrong reasons. Then I met you. There couldn’t be an Anastasia after that. You are my first choice – she was my mother’s last resort.”

“Max, you need time between women. You can’t just hop from one bed to the next.”

“That’s not how it was.”

“But it’s how it looks. And looks matter here. People will see us together and they’ll think I was the other woman.”

“So let them think it.”

She shakes her head. “Anywhere else, I’d be okay with that. But I brought Melissa here for a new life – a new life for both of us. I want to build that life right, strong from the ground up. You don’t know what it’s like to have the life you’ve built crumble because the foundation wasn’t solid. And you – you need time, too. Make a life for yourself, one you’re steering. You can be a good son and your own man.”

Max goes blank like the stucco behind him. “What about us?”

“I could use a good friend,” Vivi says. “Maybe in time . . .”

He nods, looking at the same tree Vivi found so interesting seconds ago. “Yeah, thanks. But I have plenty of friends.”

His phone jangles. When he glances at the screen, Vivi can tell it’s Mama Dearest calling.

“Okay,” he says. “I’m out of here. I’ll see you around. If Melissa needs help, call.”

“Max.”

He doesn’t turn around, but he lifts his hand; the most dismissive of goodbyes.

There’s a knife in her heart, and its blade is bright and cruel. She doesn’t complain – she’s the one who put it there.