Eleni is just past sixtythough, of course, shed tell you shes still young at heart. She has two grown children and lives in a modest, two-bedroom flat in Piraeus with her husband. But lets be honest: living is a stretch. Its more about enduring his presence than actually living together. Her husband, Kostas, is a colossal peacock with very exacting tastes and a heart as soft as a lump of marble. At home, only Kostas’s preferences matter. If he doesnt get his way, the whole of Athens knows about it. This, my friends, is why Eleni has mastered the ancient art of patience.
Eleni’s daughter, Ourania, married twelve years ago to a decent guy named Nikos. Together, they wrestled a mortgage from the jaws of the bankno easy feat in todays Greeceand most of their bonuses immediately vanish into the black hole that is the loan. Yet, somehow, they manage to dress their children well and raise them without too many fashion faux pas.
Then theres Ouranias brother, Spiros, who, for reasons known only to the gods, is living the good life. He owns a cluster of apartments around Athens and a fancy house outside Nafplio. One day, Spiros rings his sister. So, heres something: Mum and Dad are divorcing, and mums the one waving the flag this time. The apartment in Piraeus? Sold. The euros split down the middle. I swore to Dad Ill look after him, and obviously, youll sort out things with Mum.
Ourania nearly chokes on her frappe. How exactly am I supposed to pull that rabbit out of the hat? Were sardined into a two-bedroom flat ourselves, and Ive got two wild boys under ten. Wheres Mum supposed to sleep? Next to the washing machine?
Isnt Mum your responsibility? Spiros retorts dramatically, as only a big brother can. What, youre turning your back on your mother now?
Ourania groans, Nikos will flip if I tell him. We can barely manage as it is.
Spiros shrugs through the phone, clearly dusting the responsibility off his hands. Thats your business, and hangs up, probably to go water his lemon trees under the Mediterranean sun.
Anyway, Spiros had already set up Dad in his spare studio in Kallithea and wasnt losing sleep. Ourania, with the tenacity only a Greek mother can muster, decides to secure a tiny flat for Eleni, meaning (you guessed it) yet another mortgage. Miraculously, the bank approved her application. The down payment came from Elenis share after the sale. The new place is officially Ouranias, but shes now moonlighting to keep up with the payments. Nikos is still sour about the arrangement. Sometimes, he sulks and mutters that divorcing at this age is sheer madness and that, in Greece, children end up carrying the familys baggage until their backs give out. This isnt right, he complains, Parents should be on cruises, not causing heartburn!
So, what do you think? Is Nikos just an old-school traditionalist, or does he have a point tucked somewhere between his ouzo and olives?
