Free Nicolai's Daughters by Stella Leventoyannis Harvey

she’d said. “Why would I put myself in that situation?” He allowed his suppliers to wine and dine him. “We’re friends. Where’s the conflict?” He liked carefree young women and was never faithful to any of them. She liked older married men, but never more than one at a time.
    â€œIt’s March, paidi mou. Water too cold,” Christina said when Solon suggested they all go in for a swim. She shrugged her jacket off her shoulders and left it in the van, then slipped out of her shoes and into heavy, old-fashioned sandals.
    Solon put his hands together in prayer and looked up at the sky. “At least she makes one concession. She took off her winter jacket. Incredible.” He pointed his entwined fingers even higher. “I have to thank God that he took away a little of her stubbornness today. This no happen often.”
    Alexia left her bag on the floor and tried to leave her purse in the van beside it, but Christina shook her head and gave Alexia that look again so she slung the purse over her shoulder and picked up one of the smaller boxes.
    â€œThis is man’s work,” Solon said and took the box.
    Alexia followed along behind them. Even though they were parked on the beach and could have easily had their picnic close to the van, they were in search, Christina said, “of the perfect spot for your come-back-home lunch.” Sand filled Alexia’s sneakers and rubbed between her toes. She slowed down, got further behind and yet she could still hear the family’s chatter. The Gulf of Corinth gurgled quietly onto the shore. Even here, far outside Athens, the smog coloured the air sulphur yellow.
    Alexia turned on her cell phone to retrieve her messages. Christina heard the phone’s chime. She turned.
    â€œTired, no?”
    â€œWork never stops,” Alexia replied.
    â€œFresh air and good food will fix,” she said. “You will sleep tonight.”
    Alexia checked the cell phone. Three messages. “I need to return some calls.”
    â€œFirst eat,” Christina said. “Calls wait. No?”
    â€œWell, yes, it could.” She turned off the phone and dropped it in her purse.
    The women layered the shore with multicoloured blankets arranged in a circle. Around the edges, they poked holes in the sand and erected umbrellas that advertised Mythos beer and Metaxas, the brandy Nicolai used to drink. Casseroles of vine leaves, moussaka, and ribs were taken out of the baskets, boxes and coolers, along with several bowls of Greek salad and Tupperware containers of feta cheese, olives and various dips. Five loaves of bread were lifted out of plastic bags and placed in the middle of each blanket on a cardboard cutting board made from the flaps of the boxes that held their supplies.
    â€œ Moussaka by Katarina,” Christina said. Katarina stood up and curtsied. Part of Katarina’s three-quarter-length skirt had lodged itself in her buttocks. She picked at the lost material with one hand, waved with the other and said she hoped everyone would enjoy her dish. “ Kalos Orisate !” She turned and before she plopped down she smiled at Alexia, who looked away.
    â€œ Kalos Sas Vricame ,” the others replied.
    Each matriarch presented her signature dish while her family and the rest of the clan looked on and clapped. Alexia ripped at the loaf of bread closest to her. When she realized what she was doing, she glanced around to see if anyone had noticed. Christina handed Alexia a plate and told her to start because she was the guest. Alexia took just a spoonful of everything in front of her.
    â€œNo wonder she skinny,” someone said. They all laughed.
    â€œNo is natural,” Christina said.
    â€œBeing thin is not a crime,” Maria said.
    â€œHaving a little meat is good. Think of people who starve in this world. We have to be grateful we have so much.”
    Katarina agreed.
    â€œNot for me,” Maria