Truths and Lies Duet

The town car stops in front of a small hole-in-the-wall restaurant. Alessandro’s Urban Kitchen, the sign reads. The driver opens Nora’s door, at the same time my door is opened. I’m momentarily taken aback, until I see Aris is standing there, holding the door open with one hand, his other extended to help me out.

“Thank you,” I tell him with a soft smile. While Kostas is a cruel, heartless asshole, his brother doesn’t seem to be anything like him.

“Did you ladies have a good day?” Aris asks, guiding his mother and me into the restaurant.

“We did,” Nora says, beaming. “Everything is ready for Friday.”

“Friday?” Aris prompts.

“The rehearsal dinner,” Nora tells him. The hostess sits us at a small booth. Nora sits on one side and I sit on the other. Without thought, Aris slides in next to me. His leg bumps mine, and he grins playfully. Flush creeps up my neck. Why couldn’t Kostas be more like Aris? Then maybe being forced to marry him wouldn’t be so bad.

“Don’t forget you need to pick up your tux,” she says, picking up the wine menu. “And don’t leave until you’re sure it fits. We can’t have you standing up as your brother’s best man looking like a dressed up monkey.” She and Aris laugh. It’s light and playful, and it makes my heart both soar and hurt.

“When I was a teenager, Mom ordered my suit for a dance,” Aris explains. “I told her I tried it on, but I lied. When I got home, it turned out I had had a growth spurt, and the arms and legs were all two inches too short.”

“I told him he reminded me of those monkeys in the circus,” Nora adds with a laugh.

The waiter comes over, and Nora orders us a red wine, while I eye the menu. It’s Mediterranean and everything looks delicious. We spend dinner talking and laughing. Nora talks about her sons, and two things become apparent: one, she loves them with every ounce of her being, and two, she either has no clue who Kostas really is, or she’s deep, deep in denial.

“Aris, agóri mou, would you mind bringing Talia home with you? The time has gotten away from me and I really need to get home. Your father will be home shortly, and you know how upset he gets if I’m not home to sit with him while he eats.” Nora smiles, but it’s not as bright as it’s been all day, and I have to wonder, if maybe the reason she focuses so heavily on her relationship with her sons is because her marriage is lacking. When my parents were going through their divorce, my mom made it a point to smother me with love and affection. I didn’t understand it at the time, but maybe it was out of her guilt of not giving her children the perfect family.

“Of course, Mamá.” Aris stands and offers his hand to his mother as she exits the booth. The three of us walk outside, and after Nora makes me promise to not be a stranger and reminds me that she’ll see me Friday evening, we part ways.

Aris’s car is brought around by the valet. It’s a shiny gray two-door Porsche sports car. After opening the door for me, Aris walks around to the driver side and folds himself into the car. “It’s a nice evening,” he says. “How about the top down?”

“Sure.” I shrug. Aris’s lips curl into a handsome grin as he presses a button that has the top lifting.

“Buckle up, agapiméni.” Sweetheart. Aris winks, and a giggle bubbles up and flows out of me at his playfulness. Aris speeds through the streets just like his brother, wild and reckless, only it’s different, because Aris’s version is fun and exciting.

Too quickly we arrive back at the hotel, and my mood immediately drops. Aris gives me a speculating look, and it’s as if he can read my thoughts because he says, “Why don’t we go for a swim? I heard Kostas is working late anyway…something about a business associate not cooperating.”

A chill races down my spine at the last business associate of his I met.

“A swim sounds really good,” I say, then remember I don’t have a suit. At least I don’t think I do. “Can we go by the shop so I can grab a bathing suit?”

“Sure,” Aris says, placing his hand on my lower back. “I need to get changed, so I’ll meet you over there.”

After finding a cute bikini and matching cover-up and flip-flops, I head out to the pool. Aris is already there, with a beer in his hand, sitting along the edge of the pool. “I got you your favorite,” he says, holding up a glass of lemonade.

“Thanks.” I set the bag of my clothes next to a lounge chair, kick off my flip-flops, and take off my cover-up.