An Aegean Prophecy - Jeffrey Siger [48]
‘Chief, you never mentioned the name. The two of you were looking at some paper and I was falling asleep.’
Andreas shook his head and said the name.
Kouros stopped in mid-bite. ‘You’re kidding me?’
‘Why?’
‘That’s the monastery of the three missing monks. The monks we never got to interview on Patmos.’
Andreas sat up in his chair. ‘The same ones Abbot Christodoulos said left to return—’
‘Sunday night. But if what the Protos told you was true, no way they could have made it back to that monastery in time to take part in Easter Week.’
Andreas nodded his head.
‘Maybe you misunderstood what the abbot said?’
‘No way.’ Andreas paused. ‘But maybe he didn’t know that monastery’s rule and just thought that’s where they were going.’
‘Maybe, but before the abbot came to Patmos he was on Mount Athos for a half dozen years. If that monastery was as strict as the Protos said, he must have known they couldn’t have made it back to their monastery in time.’
‘Kind of makes you wonder.’ Andreas picked up a pencil, stared at it, and put it back down on his desk. ‘Let’s see what the abbot has to say for himself.’
Lila always liked time to herself and had no doubt that’s what helped keep her from going mad when, after her husband’s death, virtually every eligible man in Athens and beyond was after her. She detested all the phony posturing and hustle of the dating scene, and learned that ‘eligible’ could be a relative term to many a currently married man who saw landing Lila as a unique opportunity for ‘trading up’ the social ladder. She’d even tinkered with the idea of escaping her suitors by hiding away in a monastery for nuns. But the fates were Greek and they had their own plans for her. Or so Lila now liked to say.
At the moment, though, Lila was not alone. Her mother had stopped by and they were sitting in Lila’s kitchen having coffee. As a child, Lila would sit in her mother’s kitchen and watch her hover around the cooks, making sure everything was prepared ‘just like your father likes it.’ Even though her mother never had to cook or touch a dirty dish, she was as much an old-school Greek wife as any you’d find in the remotest mountain village: husband ruled, wife did all else - albeit, in Lila’s mother’s case, with a houseful of servants to help.
Kitchens were where Lila and her mother liked to talk when alone. They preferred the cramped intimacy of a cluttered kitchen table to the formality of china-and silver-filled dining rooms.
Lila sighed. ‘I never expected this to happen.’
Her mother glanced at Lila’s belly.
Lila stroked her tummy. ‘No, mother, not the baby, I mean this.’ She waved her hands around and over her head. ‘I didn’t even know Andreas ten months ago. Now we’re about to have a baby together.’
Her mother nodded. ‘Are you afraid?’
Lila’s lip quivered. ‘Yes. And I feel so ashamed that I am.’ She started crying.
Her mother handed her a handkerchief. ‘If you weren’t somewhat afraid it wouldn’t be natural. You’re close to the most intimate moment of a woman’s life, giving birth to a being you will love more deeply than yourself for the rest of your life.’ She reached over and stroked Lila’s hair. ‘It is a moment for great joy. And great fear. But you are blessed. Andreas is a wonderful man and will be a terrific father.’
Lila threw the handkerchief on the table. ‘But he won’t marry me. He won’t even talk about it.’
‘Why do you think that is?’
From her mother’s tone Lila could tell she had asked the question with a pretty good idea of the answer. It was her style of parenting: don’t tell, lead and elicit. ‘He’s afraid, too.’
Her mother nodded.
‘But why? He must know that I love him.’
‘Of course he does. He’s just not sure that’s enough for you.’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘You come from different backgrounds. He fears you later may regret your decision, that your feelings for him now are tied into having a baby together.’
‘Are you trying to tell me you think the same way?’ There was an angry tone in Lila’s voice.
Her mother smiled. ‘One of the things I like most about Andreas is how he’s learned