Free The Greeks of Beaubien Street by Suzanne Jenkins Page A

every morning, fixed them breakfast, and played with them until it was time for him to leave for the city at nine. Three days a week, he left the store early and would be home in time to see his boys get off the bus. He made up for it by going in on Saturdays, but he always brought the boys with him and invited Dana, who declined.
    “Why in God’s name would I want to spend my Saturday with your mother and father in that filthy town? Forget it. I can’t think of anything I dislike more. My parents are hurt because we haven’t been to Stockbridge yet to see their property. Maybe I’ll go alone while you subject our kids to the ghetto life.”
    “Momma will be sorry! Won’t she, boys?” Andy teased, trying to smooth over what she had said in front of the kids so they wouldn’t repeat it to Gus.
    “I doubt it. The only thing I am sorry about right now is marrying you.” Dana looked Andy right in the eye. Things were bad between them, but he hadn’t realized how bad. He was used to having his feeling hurt by her, but even this was over the top. What was wrong with her?
    “I’ll call Gus and tell him I’m not coming in today. We need to talk, that’s obvious enough.” Andy went to her, to touch her, grabbing her arm. He needed to connect with her.
    “Don’t bother, Andy! I have plans today. You think my life revolves around you, but it doesn’t. Go to your dirty store and have a great day!” She pulled away from him and went into their bedroom, slamming the door.
    “What’s wrong with Mommy?” Little Danny asked. Andy picked him up.
    “I made Mommy sad because I forgot to bring her flowers. I’ll bring some tonight, okay?” Both boys shook their heads yes vigorously. Andy vacillated between thinking he should go to his wife and demand that she talk to him or run out the door to escape to work. He chose work.
     

Chapter 9
    Being Greek, living above the family grocery store, having a special needs brother, a dead mother, and a little ESP cemented Jill’s outcast standing in the community.
    One day when she was about fourteen she went to the public library to borrow a book and when she was leaving, she overheard a group of boys her age say “Now there’s a smelly Greek.” She whipped around to see where it had come from, knowing it was meant for her, when she made eye contact with the librarian, also Greek. The librarian picked up a book, put it to the side of her mouth facing the crowded room, and mouthed, “Fuck them.” After she got over her initial shock, Jill snickered, flipped her ponytail over her shoulder, and with her head held high, walked out.
    Somehow she was able to maintain that mindset of not allowing the smallness of others affect her sense of self-worth. She led a charmed life and knew it. Certainly, it was sad and tough to have lost her mother at such a young age, but her grandmother loved her, her grandfather cherished her, and her father worshiped her. It was more comedic than anything else that she was out of place in a neighborhood of her own people. It strengthened her resolve to serve them in some way, to turn the tables on them as a way of retaliation. Her revenge would be to make them grateful.
    She always wanted to be a police officer. She rarely saw her Uncle Nick, but when she did, he was in uniform. She remembered seeing him the day he delivered the news of her mother’s death; he was beside himself. His parents shushed him, begging him to pull himself together for the sake of Gus. Grief didn’t diminish his appearance. Tall, dark and handsome, with the dark blue dress uniform, a black leather shoulder holster, and his hat in his hands, she was sure people didn’t even notice that he was Greek. He was just ravishing. His wife was an Irish girl he met in Corktown; Paula was a beauty. She had shiny blue-black hair like Jill, but there the similarities ended. Where Jill had black eyes and olive skin, Paula had huge blue eyes and pale, rosy skin. Paula’s figure was