Chapter 9

A New Home

We moved into our new house. ^[a]The first floor had a kitchen, living room, and a bathroom. Compared to our last place, we could actually sit down and eat in our new kitchen. The living room had three couches—one for us and the other two with plastic coverings for our guests. We would get in trouble if we tried to sit there. The plastic was uncomfortable anyway. The second floor had two bedrooms and a bathroom. My parents got the master bedroom and Kosta got the smaller room. On the third floor was a huge attic, which was mine.

As I twirled around in my new bedroom, Mommy said, “Look, Athena, this is your ^[b]own private place. See how much mommy loves you?” She hugged me. When she was in a good mood, she was the best person in the world^[c]. “I am doing everything for you and Kosta to have a nice life. If we were in Greece, we’d be living in a shithole. Now we have our own house. I came to this country to make my dreams come true. And it’s actually happening! Aren’t you so happy?”

I wasn’t sure. I missed my friends and my school. But it was pretty cool to have our own place, so I nodded. And plus, I didn’t want to piss her off by saying I wasn’t.

We had a nice big yard. Mommy had bought the house because she loved gardening. She had a huge green thumb. She was going to plant flowers and a vegetable garden so we could have fresh veggies all summer and fall. But the one thing Mommy did not like was that we had no privacy. The neighbors could see everything we did in our back yard. Mommy instantly didn’t like our new neighbors.

“Athena, that greasy-haired fat bitch and her husband are very noisy! And did you see her kids? They have two adopted boys that look so weird! This town is not like the area we left. This is a middle-class and lower-class area. Put it this way—trash! But it’s very safe, and we are still very close the city.” The town has a famous factory that employed lots of people.

“Athena, we are going to have a big party!” My mother and father invited the Greeks over and Daddy invited the chief of the police and five other cops over, too. Mommy was making what she cooked best—lasagna. People flocked from all over just to eat it at our restaurant.

Mommy was running around like a chicken with her head cut off preparing for the guests to arrive. I said, “Mommy, I want to help you.”

Without looking up from her lasagna prep, she said, “Athena, you are too slow to help me. Just go do something else.”

I didn’t know what else to do, so I went to the bathroom to make sure I looked pretty in my special party dress. I did a few party poses and then twirled to make my dress flair out. For once, I thought I looked kinda pretty.

I heard cars pulling up in the driveway. It was the Greeks arriving. I could smell the mothballs, hairspray, and perfume before the ladies even got out of the cars. Greek women were obsessed with mothballs. We did have a lot of moths where we lived that would munch holes in clothing. So, the ladies protected their clothes, but they smelled wretched—like I imagined the odor of death. I tried not to breathe when they were close by. The women were dressed like it was still winter. And it was June. For some reason, they were always cold. A mother of one of my Greek friends would keep the house so hot they had herbs growing in the winter. I could only last an hour in that house before I had to step outside.

 The ladies entered our new home with lots of dishes, desserts especially, and spanakopita. Greeks never went to someone’s home empty-handed. It was rude in our culture.

“Hello, Tulla. Lovely home!” a guest exclaimed.

I spotted my favorite dish—kadaifi, shredded phyllo dough with lots of nuts and honey. And of, course Maria, my brother’s godmother, made it.

The Greek ladies placed their desserts on the table, chatting as they went. They hugged and kissed Mommy. Then it was my turn.

“Athena, ftou ftou ftou! You are growing up. You’re taller than your mom!” The ladies were spitting on me to chase away the evil eye. It wasn’t actual spitting but pretend spitting with a ftou sound. Actual spitting, of course, would be disgusting. Greeks were big believers in the evil eye. Some of us wore a bracelet or a necklace with evil eyes—blue eyes that get rid of negative energy. I wore both! Some people had evil eyes hanging up in their homes.

Mommy said, “Yes, Athena is getting taller and fatter.”

“Oh, Tulla, don’t worry. Someday, she will be skinny,” said a friendly, chubby lady.

“Yeah, right,” said Mommy.

They were talking about me like I wasn’t there.

The guests gathered around the living room, some sitting on the couches Kosta I have never officially sat on. I say officially because we sat on them when no one was looking.

 Mommy turned around and whispered, “You’d better not eat all that kadaifi! I hate that Maria. She’ll give us the evil eye! Your fucking father forced me to invite her!”

“But, Mommy, that’s Kosta’s godmother.”

“I wouldn’t care if she was the fucking Virgin Mary. I don’t want her and her stinking kadaifi in my house!”

I nodded like I agreed. But I was happy she was there with her kadaifi. And I was going to eat as much as I wanted.

When you invite one Greek to your house, they all show up. There was one lady named Dina Mommy didn’t know very well. Then in walked Thea.

“Tulla why did you invite Theodora and her daughter? You know Theodora is crazy. She has been in and out of mental hospitals!” said Thea Katerina.

“I feel sorry for her,” said Mommy.

“Since when do you feel sorry for anyone?”

“Enough, Katerina!” Mommy burnt her finger on a pan and was sucking it to make the pain subside.

More cars pulled into our block. Mommy greeted the cops. Then Captain O’Malley and his wife asked to see me.

“Hi, Athena.” He and he wife each hugged me. “This is my wife, Sally.” Sally was an older lady who looked like a sweet grandma. “We have a little present for you!”

 I opened the box to discover a lucky-charm bracelet. I loved it.

“May you have the luck of the Irish all your life!”

I hugged and thanked them.

Mommy in her own weird way liked Captain O’Malley. She said the cops watched over our business and kept it safe.

When Mary, Tassos, and their two sons arrived, Mommy greeted them with big hugs.

“Hey, Tassos, Kosta is in the back yard. Mary, come and join us in the living room,” said Mommy.

“Can I join you guys, too?” asked Tom.

“Sure!”

Tom whispered in my ear, “Your mom is hot!”

I was like, huh? “But she’s way older than you.”

“So what?” he shrugged, like no big deal.

I wanted to say, that’s creepy, but I just gave him a weird look.

Bobby was sitting in the kitchen by himself drawing invisible circles on the table with his index finger.

Mary said festively, “Bobby, come join us in the living room.”

“Fuck you, mom,” he said, all surly.

The Greek ladies glared at him. Some even did the cross.

Mary looked pissed.

Mommy said, “Mary, fuck him. Let him just sit there and stew.”

“You’re right, Tulla. Fuck him!” And Mary turned her back on Bobby to talk to the ladies.

The doorbell rang again. Mommy opened the door to discover a blonde beauty.

“Hi! I’m Officer Garrett. Is this Kosta’s place?”

Mommy stared at her. “Sure is. You’re a woman cop?”

“Yes ma’am.” She smiled, like she was amused by the question.

“Oh, okay, Kosta’s in the back yard.” And she pointed in that direction.

“Are you Kosta’s wife?”

“Sure am.”

“Well, nice to meet you Mrs…”

“Please, just call me Tulla.” Mommy came back into the living room. “Oh, my god. She’s a woman cop!”

The other Greek women chatter.

A lady named Dina said, “She’s is one of those!”

“One of what?” asked Mommy.

“A lesbian,” Dina said.

“Naah. She’s too pretty to be a lesbian. Lesbian women look like men,” Mommy said as if she’s an expert on the matter.

I thought, I’ve seen all kind of lesbians—pretty, not pretty, manly, not manly. But I stayed quiet.

Mary said to the Greek ladies, “In our culture woman can be cops, even if they’re not a lesbian. The Greek ladies gathered at the window, jockeying for a place to peek out the window.

“Look, she’s drinking a beer without a glass! She’s a lesbian!” said Thea Katerina.

I rolled my eyes and thought, this is ridiculous. They all seemed so old-fashioned.

Mary started laughing her ass off. “Ladies, you crack me up!”

And the gossip started, which was sometimes interesting but also sometimes tiresome.

Thea Katerina got the ball rolling. “Oh, my god! I heard Niko’s wife is having an affair with one of the cooks at his diner and he is Hispanic! If Niko finds out, he will shoot them both!”

“You mean Raul?” Mommy asked.

“Yes!”

“Well, he’s much better looking than Niko, who has the world’s biggest nose!”

The ladies cracked up.

Mary realized she was missing something good. She asked, “What is going on?” Then to Mommy she said, “Can you translate, Tulla?”

“Sorry. They’ve been here long enough to learn some English. But they still think they are in their villages with their frickin’ goats!”

Mary got a kick out of the goat comment.

It was Mommy’s turn. “Did you hear about Stavro? They found him a perfect wife from his village. He is getting married in Greece. Then he’s bringing her back so she can work in their diner. Good luck to her!”

Thea Matulla, Mommy’s goddaughter’s mom, started complaining about the cold. “I can feel it in my bones. Look at my hands. They look weird and hurt when it rains. I think I have multiple sclerosis.” She held her hands out and they just looked like hands. Old, yes, but still hands.

“It’s probably just arthritis,” said Mommy, dismissing her.

“No, no, I think it’s something much worse.” Thea Matulla looked as if the world were ending.

 Greek women tend to dramatize everything, which made it hard to know when things were an actual emergency.

Another Greek lady said, “My hair is falling out. I think I might have cancer. Look! There are two hairs on my sweater right now!” And she held up the hairs as if we all hadn’t had hairs on our sweaters.

Mary caught my gaze and winked. She was clearly enjoying this Greek drama, whereas I was like, ho-hum, can we do something more interesting?

A petite Greek lady with glasses too big for her face said to Mary, “Since you married a Greek man, you know how much he likes good Greek food.”

“Yes, and good Greek sex, too!” said Mary.

I wondered what Greek sex was, but then I thought, I don’t really want to know.

Laughter erupted in the room. I was happy for Mommy that people were enjoying her party. That meant there’s was a better chance she’d be in a good mood after everyone left.

Maria, my brother’s godmother, told Mommy how much she liked our house.

To that Mommy said, “Well, ladies, let’s take a tour of the house.”

We all followed Mommy upstairs. I could tell she was proud of our home by the way she held her head up high.

Thea Katerina said, “I love your bedroom. And, look! Your closet can hold so much clothing and so many shoes!”

Dina piped in. “The closet in my house is big, too.”

Mommy didn’t respond.

We plodded back downstairs, following Mommy like good foot soldiers.

Crazy Theodora said, “I love your living room and soft couch!”

Dina said, “My living room is bigger. And your couch is okay—not the most comfortable couch I’ve ever sat in. Back in Greece I have the world’s most comfortable couch in my ocean villa.”

I glanced at Mommy whose face is in pre-attack mode. I thought, I should duck and run before it’s too late.

Thea Matulla commented on the beautiful crystal set on the coffee table.

Dina jumped in. “Matulla, you should come to my house. I have a big display full of crystals.”

Mommy twisted around and glared at Dina. “I had no idea you could get so rich cleaning puke and shit at the hospital.”

The other Greek woman knew Mommy was going to nail her. They all got quiet.

“And your drunk poker player husband is always out of work! Listen you putana! If you have so much wealth in Greece, what the fuck are you doing in this country cleaning shit and puke! Go back Greece, putana. Not me, putana. I work my ass off and I make money here. I threw a black rock behind me. Fuck that miserable country. It gave me nothing. Just poverty and misery. This country is my home now and I am going to be buried here when I die.^[d]

“Get the fuck out of here, Dina, and go be with your loser husband!” yelled Mommy, her face scrunched in anger.

Dina got out so fast—like a bolt of lightning! In my opinion, she deserved what she got. She was acting like she was better than us.

Thea Katerina told Mommy to calm down. “Fuck that malakismeni, Tulla. That bitch is not worth getting angry over.”

Mary acted like nothing happened. She was a good friend for Mommy to have because nothing fazed her. We started setting up for dinner.

Mommy went to the back yard and asked Spiro if the lamb was ready. Spiro was the king of the souvla; he made the best lamb on the spit. Greeks hired him on special occasions to work his magic. The men took the lamb off the spit.

Captain O’Malley teared up. “Kosta, I would have done anything for delicious lamb like this back in Ireland. Some days the only thing mother could cook was potatoes. We were that poor. God bless this country! I brought something special for you—whisky straight from my cousins’ stock in Ireland. Come on everybody! Let’s do a traditional Irish toast. Tulla, come and do a shot with us.”

“No, thank you! Somebody needs to stay sober to clean up this fucking mess!”

Everyone laughed.

“Look, Tulla, the woman cop is going to do a shot and Mary, too!” said Captain O’Malley.

“Katerina, that’s what Irish people do—they drink to cope. They had it rough like us, maybe even worse. Fuck them. Let’s set up.”^[e]

Captain O’Malley raised his glass for a toast. “May you always have a clean shirt, a clear conscience, and enough money to buy a pint! Sometimes you want hope for a simple life and a few basic pleasures. Here’s to a long and merry life. And a quick death and an easy one!”

Everyone took a shot of whisky. And all the Greek men yelled, “Opa!” This was Greek for cheers.

Manoli from the kafenio and his wife and two daughters arrived. I was thrilled they came. Mommy asked Matulla why her goddaughter didn’t show up^[f]. Matulla said she had gone to a slumber party at Maria’s house. Her goddaughter had a ton of Hispanic girlfriends and was a rough girl. It figured, because starting at the age of seven, she had to catch a bus ^[g]by herself. And she lived in a very dangerous neighborhood. It was a good thing she wasn’t kidnapped!

One time, I went to her birthday party. The girls locked her bedroom door and started beating each other up. I got the hell out of that room real quick. Matulla’s son was also a troublemaker. He had hot hands and was always stealing stuff.

Effi and Manoli ^[h]gave me such big hugs. Oh, how I wished Effi was my mother. She was so kind and gentle. Manoli was not only my father’s good friend but Mommy’s, too. He had a great sense of humor. He was the best Greek coffee maker and made the best pasta outside of Greece. It was a soup that was vinegar based with lamb tripe and lamb feet. ^[i]It supposedly took care of men’s hangovers—probably because it was so gross it made them forget about their headaches!

 I loved Sula and Georgia so much! Mommy hugged them and then said, “You girls are too young for eyeliner!”

“They wanted to dress up for this special occasion. There is no harm in that,” said Effi.

“Of course not.” Mommy turned around and whispered to me. “You’d better not think about doing that anytime soon. Now come help me take the food outside.”

I followed Mary, Matulla, and Thea Katerina into the kitchen.

Matulla asked Mommy, “Is it true that Sula had an abortion?”

“I’ll bet it is. Look at the way she lines her eyes and shows off her boobs. She is only sixteen! Manoli locks Effi in the house all day with the girls. I go get her and take her for rides. He won’t let her get a driver’s license. But he does whatever he wants, including keeping a xeni mistress, who follows him everywhere.”

Mary asked, “What’s her name?”

“Katie Wilson,” said Mommy.

“Oh, my god. Is she tall and blonde?”

Mommy said, “Yes.”

“She works in the accounting office at our plant. She keeps telling everybody she is in love with a Greek man and that she wants to be with him forever! Tulla, she seems unstable to me. That’s just awful.”

This news shocked me. My brother, Kosta, and I loved Manoli.

We all grabbed a dish and took the food outside. I reached for a Coke on the way out.

“No Coke for you. Drink a Tab instead. Zero calories,” said Mommy.

I hated Tab. It tasted like gasoline. Sometimes I wished Mommy would just mind her own business. I couldn’t wait until I was old enough to make my own decisions without Mommy butting in on everything.

I sat with Effi and her daughters and we dove into our meals.

Sula said, “Athena, when are you coming to our place for a sleepover? We had so much fun the last time! We can dance to Wham and Duran Duran. I am in love with George Michael. He is so dreamy. And he’s Greek!” Years later we all found out he was gay. He broke a lot of Greek women’s hearts!

Effi didn’t speak English too well, but she tried. “Our house haunting. We seeing a woman face looking us in night. Our neighbor’s house has, how you say, poltergeist. The Catholic couple took care of it. Maybe ghost in our house now!” ^[j]

“Don’t worry, Effi. I’m sure it’s nothing,” I said.

Georgia asked, “Do you like your new house? It’s really nice.”

“No, I don’t like it here. I hate this town. I wish we stayed in our other house.” My eyes pooled with tears.

“Don’t cry. You make us to cry.” Effi held my hand with both of hers. “Agapimou, everything soon okay.” Agapimou means my love.

Sula said, “My mom made you diples.”

I loved them. They were thin fried dough turned over and over topped with honey, walnuts, and cinnamon. Thinking about them made me feel less sad. “Mommy won’t let me have them.”

“Don’t worry. We sneak to you when she not around.” Effi winked at me.

Mommy was talking to the bad neighbors. In fact, she was screaming at them. “Stop staring at us, you fucking noisy fuckers!”

The Greek ladies got up. One asked, “What’s going on?”

“Those god-damned hicks keep pointing and laughing at us. Did you see their adopted kid? He is cross-eyed,” said Mommy.

“Tulla, calm down. We don’t want to get the cops involved^[k].”

My mother hated the neighbors so much she went to the county to get some trees to plant so they could not spy on us anymore.

As the party was winding down, Effi said to Mommy that she wanted to talk to her. While Mommy and Effi were talking, Georgia went to the car to get the diples.

When she handed them to me, she said, “Quick, Athena, run them to your bedroom!” I bolted and found a good hiding place for them in case Mommy decided to snoop around.

Most of the guests left, except for the Greek ladies who helped Mommy clean up. Daddy took off for our bar with the cops. I prayed there’d be no fighting when he came home late and drunk. I hugged Effi and the girls.  

“Mommy, can I go to Manolis’ house for a sleepover next week?” I didn’t care if they might have a ghost. In fact, I thought that could be kind of cool.

“That neighborhood is dangerous. I know the neighborhood were our pizza place is rough. But their street is worse.”

“We have gone there for souvla for Easter and you pick up Effi and take her shopping.”

“Their family is having problems right now, but I will think about it.”

A few hours after everyone left, the phone rang and it was Katerina who said that $50 was missing from her purse. Mommy said she would look around and call her back.

The phone rang again. This time it was Maria saying she was missing $100. Mommy was panicked. Then Mommy’s goddaughter’s mom called saying she was missing $50.

Mommy hung up and lost it. “Treli putana (Greek crazy bitch) Theadora stole money from everyone’s purses while we were outside.” Mom checked her purse and $200 was missing.

Mom called Katerina, who was furious.

“Tulla, I warned you about crazy Theodora. Not only is she mental. She is a kleptomaniac! She robbed us all. Don’t ever invite her to your house again!”

The next day Mommy called me to her bedroom. She had all the lights off and was holding her head with her eyes closed. “I have a terrible migraine. I want you to go down to the restaurant with Daddy today. You need to make the pizza sauce. You’ve seen me make it a lot.”

“Yes, I can do that.”

“Also, fire that fat slob Harry.”

“How?”

“Just tell him he does not work there anymore. Tomas knows already. I am thankful to have the Portuguese kids, who are such fast and hard workers.”

I went down to the restaurant. My father always sent me to the variety store next door for coffee, cigarettes, and things he scratches with a penny to win money. He told me I brought him luck. Mostly I thought he was too lazy to go get them himself. Mommy liked the gossip magazines and loved to read about the lives of Hollywood stars. I liked reading them, too. And my favorite part of going to the variety store—I always snuck Twinkies.

Harry showed up to work. I had a pit in my stomach about firing him. But I knew Mommy would kill me if I didn’t let him go. So, I approached him. “I am very sorry but you no longer work here.” Then I mumbled, “Mommy wants you to know you are a fat slob.”

“What did you say?”

“Mommy says you’re a fat slob.”

“Well, fuck you and your fucking mother!” he said practically spitting at me.

Tomas got in his face. “Don’t you ever speak to Athena like that, ever!” Tomas was known to have a bad temper. “Now get the fuck out!”

Harry screamed obscenities as he left.

“He was stealing money and I caught him,” said Tomas.

“Good job, Tomas.” I hugged him.

I made the pizza sauce and it wasn’t even that difficult. I was so proud of myself that it tasted just like Mommy’s. I knew she’d be proud of me, too.

A couple days later, Mommy went to make pizza. She opened the container of pizza sauce I had made. “Athena, this pizza sauce is sour! You can’t do anything right!” And she smacked me.

I wished I could hit her back but I just cowered in the corner.

Diana said, “It was a mistake. Everyone makes mistakes.”

“Athena is always making mistakes. Her whole life is a mistake.” To me Mommy said, “You forgot to use MSG. (Everybody in the 1980s used it—Greek, Chinese and Italian restaurants. Years later it would be banned.) That’s what gives the pizza sauce flavor and makes it last a long time. You won’t forget again. Will you?”

“No, Mommy Dearest,” I said because I knew she hated it.

“Stop calling me that.” Mommy stormed out of the restaurant.

Diana came over to give me a hug. “I feel bad for you. Your mother needs to calm down. I will call her in an hour to see if you can stay over with us this weekend. You could probably use a break from her.”

Yeah, like for the rest of my life, I thought.

Diana told me Mommy agreed, and I was amazed. She said her cousin was staying with them, too. Diana, Estrella, and Tomas were very close. Seeing how close they were made me miss my cousins on my father’s side, especially Marina. My other cousins, who lived in Greece, were too far away, so I hardly knew them.

“Athena, I have something to show you outside. Come and see it.”^[l]

It was the coolest Camaro I had ever seen—red and black with a spoiler. She^[m] had just turned sixteen and paid for it with her own money. We cruised round and she went a little too fast. Thankfully we didn’t get pulled over by the cops. I rolled down my window and felt the wind in my hair. I had seen kids hang out of car windows in movies, and I thought about doing that, but then I thought it might actually be dangerous and what if a car came too close and I got decapitated? So, I just stuck my feet out instead.

 After an hour of driving like the devil, Diana said, “We are going to the Portuguese club. There’s a band playing there tonight.”

“Cool!” It sounded like fun.

The minute we got there Estrella jumped on the dance floor and went crazy showing off her super cool dance moves. She was about 4’ 9” with thick long curly hair and a smile that lit up the room. She was silly and loved attention and hugs. Diana was taller wore her hair feathered. Compared to Estrella, she was pretty serious. She even brought her homework to work. It figured that she got really good grades.

“Come on, Athena. Let’s eat.” Diana had ordered several dishes. The fried fish tasted like what Mommy made. The fish came with skordalia—a garlic dip—and beets. The rice was seasoned with olives and the steak was served with a sunny-side egg on top. It was so delicious!

After we had polished off the food, Diana said, “Let’s dance!” She grabbed my hand to pull me toward the dance floor.

I resisted her tug and remained seated. “But I don’t know how.”

“Don’t worry. I will teach you.”

At first, I felt super awkward, but she kept swinging me around and showing me dance moves. I started to get the hang of it and it was so much fun!

I noticed a guy shooting her glances. Every time he did, she would turn bright red.

I sidled up next to her because it was hard to hear with the blasting music and said, “I think that boy likes you. He is so handsome.”

Diana wore a scowl. “My father does not let me date. I have to wait until I’m eighteen. And he says he has to know the family.” She rolled her eyes. Suddenly, she changed the subject. “We need to head home. Let’s wait until this song ends and we can grab Estrella.”

“Where is Tomas?”^[n]

“At the roller rink probably winning all the contests. Girls go nuts over him.”

“He is so good looking! Does he have to come home now too?”

“No. Tomas can do whatever he wants. He’s the man of the house.”

That didn’t seem fair to me, but I kept my mouth shut.

When we arrived at her house her father was passed out in the living room chair, snoring.

“Your father seems so tired.”

“No, he just drank way too much wine—as always. Let’s not wake him or things could get ugly. Estrella, take your makeup off. Just in case he does. We don’t want him freaking out on us.”

We went to her room where she had twin beds. She said that I would sleep with her and Estrella would have the other bed. After chatting about all kinds of things, including boys, my sucky mom, and Diana’s alcoholic dad, we all fell asleep.

I woke up in the middle of the night, crying.

“What’s wrong?” asked Diana, her hand on my shoulder.

“I had a bad dream.”

“Do you get those often?”

“Yes.”

“Who’s in the dream.”

“A bad lady named Carla who touched me.”

Diana’s eyes widened in the darkness. “Oh my god, Athena. Do your parents know?”

“Yes, but I told them it was a lie. Mommy never liked me after that.”^[o]

“You know you did nothing wrong—right? She just sounds like a sick lady. I promise I will not let anybody hurt you.” As she hugged me, I wondered how she would keep her promise. We went back to sleep.

Sometime in the early morning, we were awakened by music and Estrella dancing in the middle of Diana’s bedroom.

I wanted to say, isn’t it a little early for that and will you let us go back to sleep, but instead I said, “What are you dancing to?”

“Menudo!”

“Who is that?”

“The most handsome boys in the word. Check this out.” She pulls out posters of the guys in the band.

“Do you understand what they are saying?” I asked.

“Not everything. But there’s some overlap between Spanish and Portuguese. I want to marry Ricky Martin.” She pointed at one of the guys in the poster. “Look how handsome he is! Anytime I hear him sing and watch him dance, my heart beats like crazy!”

Years later, Ricky Martin would come out of the closet. He broke lots of girls’ hearts, too.

Maria’s parents were awake when we went downstairs.

“Is that Tulla’s daughter?” asked Maria’s mother.

I nodded.

“What a cute cherub. Her nose is so small. Normally Greek people have big noses. Let’s go to the cellar. Come on, Athena, we are going to the cellar.”

I hesitated because the idea of the cellar frightened me.

“Don’t be scared. This is going to be fun!” said Maria’s mother.

There was a huge barrel filled with grapes.

“Father makes homemade wine.”

Her mother said, “Let’s all stomp on them. But, before we do, we must wash our feet. We don’t want foot germs in our wine!”

The grapes were cold and squishy when you stepped on them. At first, I was tentative about the squishing business, but once I watched Estrella, the pro, grooving to her own rhythm, I got into it. We each made our own grape-squishing dances and Estrella, Diana, and I were laughing so hard.

Her mother said, “Well, you girls have quite the knack. You’ve smashed these grapes to smithereens! Your father’s going to be so happy. He’s running low on wine.”

It was lunchtime and I was starving. Grape squashing is hard work! 

Diana told me that Portuguese typically have their biggest meal in the afternoon. Diana’s mother set the table. One casserole looked like chicken. And there was a side dish of rice and olives, soup, and some flaky bread. Diana’s father had a big container of wine at the table.

Tomas showed up just in time for lunch.

“Finally, you are awake,” said Diana.

“Hey, I came home late last night. Nina wanted to spend time with me,” Tomas said groggily.  

“Were your other girlfriends happy about that?” ribbed Diana.

He just smirked.

Diana’s mother said, “Let our guest Athena get a plate first.”

As everyone was enjoying their meal, I said, “This is the best chicken I’ve ever had.” Everybody started laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Was I not supposed to compliment Diana’s mother’s cooking?

“You’re not eating chicken. You’re eating rabbit.”

What?! I just stared at the rabbit meat on my plate. “Like the Easter Bunny? You mean I just ate the Easter Bunny?” My eyes teared up.

Everyone was cracking up.

“No, not the Easter Bunny. Wild bunnies. Don’t cry, dear,” said Diana’s mother in a gentle, loving tone. I wondered what it would be like to have a mother who spoke to me that way.

“Diana, give her some wine,” ordered her father.

To be honest, I didn’t really want wine with foot germs, toe jam, and other gross stuff.

“Are you kidding me? She is too young!” said Diana’s mother.

“Hey, I was drinking wine way younger than her,” said her father proudly.

“I’ll take some,” said Tomas.

“Me too,” said Estrella.

 “Athena and will have some fruit punch. And you don’t have to eat any more rabbit, if you don’t want to,” said Diana.

Five days later I was helping Mommy at the restaurant, but I didn’t feel right. I had horrible cramps and a splitting headache, which made me think I had the flu or something. I also felt something wet down there, and I wondered if I had peed in my pants. When I went to the bathroom, there was blood in my panties. Oh, god! I knew the day would come but I always secretly hoped it wouldn’t. I stuffed toilet paper in my underwear and went back out into the restaurant. I wondered if I should tell Mommy, or if I could just keep it secret.

It came blurting out when I saw her. “I think I have my period.” Either that or I’m dying.

Mommy yells, because she can’t ever do anything quietly. “Athena, you are a woman!”

I can’t say I was excited about becoming a woman.

She ran to the bar and yelled, “Kosta, Athena got her period!” so loud the entire bar knew I was a woman. Everyone clapped and yelped and said, “Congratulations!”

I was so embarrassed I wanted to run and hide.

Tomas saw my face. “You are so red. Listen, it’s no big deal. I know all about that stuff because of my sister.”

Mommy said, “I am going to run to the store and get you some pads. Never use a tampon ever! It will ruin your virginity. And don’t listen to those xeni girls, either. They are all sluts.”

It was time to go to my new school. I really hoped there’d be nice kids like at my last school. I jumped on the bus when it pulled up to my house. I sat down in an empty seat, trying not to look like I was checking out the other kids out. They all looked like they were wearing second-hand clothing.

When I got to the school, it looked tired and dreary and the principal didn’t greet us. They only had two computers^[p]. When I sat down in my classroom, the teacher had each of us introduce ourselves. I was kinda nervous, but I tried to hide my shaky voice. The other kids were snickering about me. They said stuff like, “Look at that weird-looking girl. Her English is weird and her hair reminds me of those greaseball Hispanics. She is probably one.”

I wanted to say I’m not a greaseball. But if I had told them I was Greek, they might think I was worse than a greaseball.

Three weeks went by. I got called to the principal’s office. My mother was there, too.

The counselor came in and sat down. “Mrs. Angelos, we are very concerned about your daughter. She is not responsive at all. To be honest, it seems like her head is in the clouds. But, don’t worry. There’s a school 45 minutes away that takes troubled youth. And, added bonus, it won’t break the bank. She can go there and come home for the holidays and weekends,” she said in an upbeat tone, like it was Disneyland.

Mommy took one look at me, her expression dripping with disgust. “My daughter has had problems since the day she was born. She was never with it. She’s lazy and sleeps a lot. To be honest, it is hard for me to take care of her. I am glad you noticed this. People thought I was too hard on her. Now you see it is not me. It is her. Let’s go, Athena.”

As we strolled to the car, Mommy stayed a few paces ahead of me, never looking back. The minute we got in the car I couldn’t stop my tears. I knew she would put me down for it, but I couldn’t help it.

“Stop your fucking crying, Athena. I wish I never had you. You take after your father’s family. They’re all sick in the head.”

“Could you at least give me a fucking tissue?” I yelled through my tears.

She threw the box at me. “You will never be anything. Dumb girls like you go nowhere in life. Finally, somebody took my side and saw what a mess you are. I really do not want to deal with you today.”

Am I sick in the head? Am I a lost cause? Should I just run away?

She dropped me at the restaurant and drove off in a huff.

When I saw Diana, I lost it. “Mommy is putting me away! The school thinks there’s something wrong with me.”

“Calm down. Did you tell them about what Carla did to you? And that your mother hits and berates you? Trust me, she’s so bad, I would walk out right now. But I need this job.”

“Please don’t quit.” I felt panicked.

“I won’t, my little Athena.”

“I don’t want to tell anyone about Carla or Mommy. Then I’ll become a foster child. They have horrible lives—even worse than mine.” I whimpered.

She held my cheeks and gazed deeply into my eyes. “Listen to me. You are not sick. You are a special child. Sometimes when you look at me it’s like you can see my soul. You have some kind of magnet that draws people to you. It’s like you can see God.”

I nodded, but I had no idea what she was talking about. I would not understand until much later in life.