“Thank you.” I step inside, inhaling the familiar smell of my childhood,a blend of coffee, Chanel No. 5, and roasted lamb. “How long do we have today?”
He chuckles, closing the door softly behind me. “She left thirty minutes ago. Won’t be back for hours.”
My yiayiá has a standing lunch date with her friends every Wednesday. I took the afternoon off for a doctor’s appointment, so I came early to visit my pappoús.
It’s not that I don’t want to see my yiayiá. It’s just… sometimes I really don’t want to see my yiayiá.
I love her, obviously. She’s my grandmother. But lately, the pressure to find a husband has become unbearable. Insufferable, really. She’s also the first one to tell me everything I’m doing wrong.
You’re not trying hard enough. You’re too thin. Your hair’s a mess.And my personal favorite:You’re showing too much skin. How do you expect to find a husband when you look like a call girl?
My pappoús is the opposite. He spoils me rotten. Always has. Treats me too good—like a princess. And when everyone else makes me feel like the court jester? I’ll take being a princess any day.
He grabs a silver tray with coffee, tea, cream, and cookies, then brings it into the living room while I sink into the B&B Italia Charles sofa, an Italian import Yiayiá ordered in the nineties after a trip to Greece and Italy. It’s elegant, soft, and somehow still spotless, even after thirty years. One of those pieces I’d never choose for their space now, but can still appreciate.
“So, how is everything going, my sweets?”
I stir my tea while my pappoús pours cream into his coffee. “Things are good. Just busy with work.”
“You work too much, Jordan. A little more balance would be good for you. Maybe even someone to come home to after a long day.” He pauses, like he knows he’s treading into dangerous waters. “I heard Yiayiá and your mamá are setting you up with Alexander? Nice young man. Successful, too.”
He went there anyway.
I tip my head back and groan. “Not you too, Pappoús!”
He chuckles, a sparkle lighting his eyes. “I just want you to find a good manwho treats you right. Someone who takes care of you, so you don’t have to work so hard. I just want you to be happy.”
I give a soft smile. I know he means well. “I know, Pappoús. Iamhappy.”Sort of.“You know there’s more to life than falling in love, right? I have my work, friends… Matt.” I tack that last one on with a shrug, aiming for casual.
“Ah, yes. Matt’s back. And how is the big-timer? Is his bank account as big as his head yet?”
I laugh way harder than I should. I made the mistake of coming over here once, years ago, to cry to Pappoús after Matt and I had a fight. Told him all Matt cared about was his big fat bank account, and that his head had gotten so big, he’d never have enough money to fill it.
Pappoús has never let me forget it.
“It’s just as big as it’s always been.” I flash him a teasing grin. “Maybe bigger.”
He laughs at that. “You know I’ve always liked Matt. I just pretend to hate him for Yiayiá’s sake. Can’t afford to be in the doghouse.” He stirs his coffee, eyes softening. “He’s not my first choice for you, kouklaki, but he’d do just fine. That boy loves you. Always has.”
I watch him, amused, as he dips his cookie into his coffee. “Hmm.” It’s all I give him, because I don’t disagree.
Matt loves me in his own way.
Just… not in the way I’ve ever wanted him to.
I let him think what he wants and shift the conversation. “I finished my business plan and started talking to a few lenders. Looked at a few commercial spaces. For fun. It’s still early, but I’m getting an idea of prices and where I might want to be.”
“That’s good. Just don’t take on more than you already have.” He takes a sip of his coffee and gasps, like he’s surprised by how damn hot he makes it. “You work too much as it is.”
I smile. Back to working too much. Next will be how I need a man to find balance again. These are my chats with Pappoús, hitting the same nail in a different direction. Over and over.
I’ve been planning to start my own company for a while now. I’m still in the beginning stages, but Pappoús likes hearing about it.
“But this will allow me to eventually slow down.”
He nods. “It’s good to build something of your own. How is saving for a down payment coming along?”
Not good.
