Free Seven Days of Friday (Women of Greece Book 1) by Alex A. King

okay with it, I don’t see the problem.”
    “It is smut,” Eleni says.
    “Oh, have you read it?”
    “I don’t need to read it to know it is smut.”
    Chris winks at Vivi; Trish can hold her own with Eleni Pappas and he loves it. Vivi wishes she had that gift, but it’s easier when you didn’t pop out of Eleni’s womb while she was walking to work in the snow – barefoot and uphill both ways, of course.
    Worrying about Melissa is Vivi’s new hobby. She’s always quiet, always sullen – times ten if she’s been out with John.
    Because Melissa H-A-T-E-S Ian. And Ian’s always around.
    Vivi talked to John about it, told him it wasn’t cool to flaunt his fling in front of their daughter, but John told her this is how it is, and if Vivi doesn’t like it, they can let the lawyers scrap over the details.
    Anyway, the worrying, it’s reaching critical mass. So, when Melissa is happy, Vivi’s happy. And reading makes Melissa happy, which means . . .
    There’s zero chance Vivi’s going to mess with that.
    “It's on the school reading list,” she says. “It's not like she's leafing through Playboy.”
    Mom makes a huffing sound over the boiling potatoes. “It is pornography.”
    A loud thwack of newspaper on wood makes her stop. Her husband glares at her over the top of his wire-rimmed glasses. “Eleni, always with the nagging. You never stop. Leave the poor girl alone.”
    “How can I leave her alone when she is in the garage reading dirty books? She is not here to leave alone.”
    “Mom – ” Chris starts.
    Mom slams the lid on the potatoes, hurls the spoon across the room. The wooden spoon strikes the hutch, bounces off the fruit bowl, hits Vivi on the head with a skull-echoing thud.
    “Now look what you have done,” Elias Pappas says. Trish hurries to Vivi’s side, but she’s fine. No dents, no cuts, no life-threatening outpouring of blood.
    It’s all good. Except for the screaming in her head that won’t shut up.
    Eleni waves her hands at the ceiling. “I am the one who is hurting and you take her side? My daughter is getting divorced, has no job, has no husband, and now no home. What am I supposed to tell people?”
    Vivi looks at the lunatic. “I don’t care what you tell them. I’m too busy trying to make a new life with my daughter.”
    “What are you trying to do? You sit here in my kitchen and eat baklava while my granddaughter reads filth.”
    “Well, this time next week we'll be gone.”
    “You found a place?” Chris asks.
    Vivi glances at Trish, who shakes her head. She hasn’t said a thing because, as previously mentioned, Chris can’t keep secrets.
    “Sort of,” she says. “Melissa and I are going away. To Greece.” She doesn’t look at her mother, but thanks to the power of peripheral vision, she catches the instant weather change.
    “Good for you!” Chris says. “Is this like a holiday?”
    “More like a maybe-permanent thing. Or maybe not. We’re testing the warmer waters.”
    He whistles. “Damn, Vivi. Good for you.” He looks at his wife. “Babe, did you know about this?”
    Trish nods. “It wasn't an easy secret to keep, but Vivi needed a sounding board and some advice about education.”
    Eleni is a statue. The tantrum is coming, the drama ratcheting. The air pressure shifts, the way it does when a storm is bundling up its energy for the big strike.
    Vivi says, “What do you think, Dad?”
    He shrugs. “Eh. If you think it is best.”
    “No,” Eleni whispers. “I forbid it.”
    All eyes on the two of them. Vivi and Eleni in the ring alone, only one will be left standing.
    “Too late. The tickets are in my handbag.”
    Eleni runs out of the kitchen.
    “That went well,” Chris says.
    Trish slaps his arm. “Vivi, are you okay?”
    Is she okay?
    Is a train wreck okay?
    Is a meteor headed straight for Earth okay?
    Oh yeah, she’s okay. And now her mother is pouting in the bedroom where she'll stay until they all take turns comforting her and Vivi