the table with a kind of faux-regality, and motioned to Atreus.
“Mr. Kostas, if you would join me in the other room for a cigar? I’d like to have a word.” Atreus smiled and obliged, standing from his seat at the table.
“Please, Mr. Simpson, call me Atreus. And yes, of course I’ll join you – as it so happens, I have a question I’d like to ask you.” He waggled his eyebrows at Carla and Dios, who giggled, and followed Charles out of the room. Mary sighed.
“I always knew you’d find a good husband, but I never would have guessed I’d live to see the day you marry a foreign billionaire heartthrob!” Mary laughed. “Oh, don’t blush, darling. I’m old, not dead! I’m allowed to tell you he’s gorgeous.”
“He’s wonderful, Gran. I can’t tell you how well he’s treated me. From the very first day in his home, I was like family to him and his mother. And to Dios!” She gestured to the child in her lap. “I was worried what you might think – my going abroad and coming back with a whole new life, but . . .” Words failed her as she tried to describe what she felt for Atreus Kostas and his infant son. Mary knew the look in Carla’s eye well.
“I think it’s splendid, love. These things, they just happen. You don’t expect them, you’re not even sure you want them at first, but then, when it happens to you – it’s like a fairytale. You ought to feel like Cinderella at the ball.” Carla smiled.
“I do,” she said. “Every day.”
*****
Charles Simpson puffed on his cigar a few times to get it started before lighting Atreus’s. In the cozy interior of the living room, out of earshot of the womenfolk, Charles settled in to the settee while Atreus found a spot in the arm chair across from him.
“Cigars, to me, always spell ‘celebration’.” Charles mused. “Weddings, births, holidays – they’re a marker of good things happening, and good things to come. Don’t you agree?” Atreus nodded.
“I do,” he said, taking the cigar out of his mouth to examine it for a moment. “There’s nothing quite as dignified as smoking a cigar on happy occasions.” Charles grunted in approval.
“Mary seems quite convinced that this is indeed a happy occasion,” he said, looking Atreus in the eye. “And I have to admit, the thought of having Atreus Kostas, of Kostas Shipping, in my family!” Charles’s eyes were wide with disbelief as he shook his head and puffed. “But I want to talk about our girl.”
“Carla,” Atreus murmured, loving the sound of her name on his lips, as he always did. Charles nodded.
“Carla,” he echoed. “I want to know what your intentions are with my granddaughter. My son, God rest his soul, can’t be here to vet you, so I’ll have to do it on his behalf.”
“Well,” Atreus began. “I should tell you that this will not be my first marriage.” Charles nodded again.
“It was in the papers,” he said. “And your divorce is only very recently final, yes?”
“Yes,” Atreus agreed. “But to tell you the truth, sir, it had been over for a long time. Well before Carla came into my life.”
“Still,” Charles said, blowing smoke into the air. “You can understand my concern.”
“Carla arrived at the villa at a very . . . chaotic time in my life; that is true. But I can promise you, on everything I am as a man, that my feelings for her are not fleeting. She is the kindest, most gentle person I have ever met, and the love I feel for her is . . . it’s unlike anything I’ve ever known. I would die for that woman. You must know that.” Atreus’s eyes were pleading, as though it were the first time he truly entertained the notion that Carla’s family may not approve of their union. Charles appraised him silently. Finally, he spoke.
“I believe you, my boy.” And Atreus breathed a quiet sigh of relief. “But you must understand something, as well. Carla is not like the other women you have known, of that we can both
“Mr. Kostas, if you would join me in the other room for a cigar? I’d like to have a word.” Atreus smiled and obliged, standing from his seat at the table.
“Please, Mr. Simpson, call me Atreus. And yes, of course I’ll join you – as it so happens, I have a question I’d like to ask you.” He waggled his eyebrows at Carla and Dios, who giggled, and followed Charles out of the room. Mary sighed.
“I always knew you’d find a good husband, but I never would have guessed I’d live to see the day you marry a foreign billionaire heartthrob!” Mary laughed. “Oh, don’t blush, darling. I’m old, not dead! I’m allowed to tell you he’s gorgeous.”
“He’s wonderful, Gran. I can’t tell you how well he’s treated me. From the very first day in his home, I was like family to him and his mother. And to Dios!” She gestured to the child in her lap. “I was worried what you might think – my going abroad and coming back with a whole new life, but . . .” Words failed her as she tried to describe what she felt for Atreus Kostas and his infant son. Mary knew the look in Carla’s eye well.
“I think it’s splendid, love. These things, they just happen. You don’t expect them, you’re not even sure you want them at first, but then, when it happens to you – it’s like a fairytale. You ought to feel like Cinderella at the ball.” Carla smiled.
“I do,” she said. “Every day.”
*****
Charles Simpson puffed on his cigar a few times to get it started before lighting Atreus’s. In the cozy interior of the living room, out of earshot of the womenfolk, Charles settled in to the settee while Atreus found a spot in the arm chair across from him.
“Cigars, to me, always spell ‘celebration’.” Charles mused. “Weddings, births, holidays – they’re a marker of good things happening, and good things to come. Don’t you agree?” Atreus nodded.
“I do,” he said, taking the cigar out of his mouth to examine it for a moment. “There’s nothing quite as dignified as smoking a cigar on happy occasions.” Charles grunted in approval.
“Mary seems quite convinced that this is indeed a happy occasion,” he said, looking Atreus in the eye. “And I have to admit, the thought of having Atreus Kostas, of Kostas Shipping, in my family!” Charles’s eyes were wide with disbelief as he shook his head and puffed. “But I want to talk about our girl.”
“Carla,” Atreus murmured, loving the sound of her name on his lips, as he always did. Charles nodded.
“Carla,” he echoed. “I want to know what your intentions are with my granddaughter. My son, God rest his soul, can’t be here to vet you, so I’ll have to do it on his behalf.”
“Well,” Atreus began. “I should tell you that this will not be my first marriage.” Charles nodded again.
“It was in the papers,” he said. “And your divorce is only very recently final, yes?”
“Yes,” Atreus agreed. “But to tell you the truth, sir, it had been over for a long time. Well before Carla came into my life.”
“Still,” Charles said, blowing smoke into the air. “You can understand my concern.”
“Carla arrived at the villa at a very . . . chaotic time in my life; that is true. But I can promise you, on everything I am as a man, that my feelings for her are not fleeting. She is the kindest, most gentle person I have ever met, and the love I feel for her is . . . it’s unlike anything I’ve ever known. I would die for that woman. You must know that.” Atreus’s eyes were pleading, as though it were the first time he truly entertained the notion that Carla’s family may not approve of their union. Charles appraised him silently. Finally, he spoke.
“I believe you, my boy.” And Atreus breathed a quiet sigh of relief. “But you must understand something, as well. Carla is not like the other women you have known, of that we can both
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