Devon Hartford - Painless

I let it go to voicemail. I’d deal with them later. Maybe tomorrow.

Maybe never.

Maybe if I never called them back, my parents would slowly forget they ever had a daughter. I could hope.

So, so, so, SO GROAN!!!

I rolled my eyes and concentrated on the road as I drove toward home.

Home. To my new house where I lived with Christos. Swoon. The drunk guy slumped against the door of my VW. Sigh. Oh well, nothing was perfect. So what if he was drunk? It was better than him being in jail.

Besides, I’d been drunk plenty of times in high school as an outcast teenager. Sometimes things got so bad, it was the only thing I knew how to do to block out the pain and rejection when I was alone. Sometimes, not even ice cream was enough. But my drinking hadn’t turned me into an alcoholic. I’m sure Christos would be fine. If his drinking somehow became a problem, I’d be around to help. I wouldn’t let him throw his life away. We’d find a way through whatever obstacles life put in front of us. Together.

Spiridon was already back at the house when I pulled into the driveway. He helped Christos out of the car with ease and didn’t need a wheelbarrow. All the Manos men were very strong physically. I didn’t know how old Spiridon was, but he had to be at least sixty. He pulled Christos out of the car like he didn’t weigh a thing. I couldn’t have done it without a forklift.

Spiridon walked Christos upstairs and lowered him onto the bed.

“I can take it from here,” I said.

“Okay. I feel like some tea. I’m going to go make some. You can join me if you’d like.”

“All right.”

Spiridon smiled, “It’s so good to have you living with us, Samoula . It was far too quiet with only my grandson around. It’s nice to have more family in the house.”

My heart warmed at his words. “Thank you, Spiridon.” The implication that I was family brought tears to my eyes. I’d known him for all of five months and I felt completely at ease around him. Maybe he could adopt me officially. Oh wait, wouldn’t that make me Christos’ sister? No, that would only be if Nikolos adopted me. If Spiridon adopted me, that would make me Christos’ aunt. Not gonna work.

“What’s so funny?” Spiridon asked.

“Nothing,” I smiled. “Just random thoughts. Let me take care of Christos and I’ll join you downstairs.”

“Perfect. I’ll be in the kitchen.”

I hung my blazer in the closet and slipped off my heels. Then I slid Christos’ dress shoes off. He was still in his suit, which was now quite rumpled. He’d been truly dashing in the courtroom. Now his rumpled face looked like it could use a press as badly as his suit. I loosened his tie and opened his collar. He moaned sleepily, but didn’t seem interested in opening his eyes.

“You’re completely at my mercy, Christos. Think of all the things I could do to you. Draw a mustache with a marker?” No, that reminded me of Tiffany’s yacht and her painting. “Shave your head?” Why would I want to get rid of that perfect hair of his? I wouldn’t be able to run my hands through it. “Oh, forget it. How about I give you a striptease then let you have your way with me?”

Yeah, that sounded like what the doctor ordered.

Christos moaned sleepily. He didn’t seem to agree.

“How about I let you sleep?”

Silence.

I wasn’t sure how drunk Christos was, but I didn’t want to risk him choking on his own puke. I grabbed his wrist and pulled him onto his side, just in case. I had to really put my body into it, he was so heavy. I had a good sweat going by the time I finished. Who knew all that muscle could weigh so much?

I blew a wisp of hair out of my face when I was finished. “Sleep tight, agápi mou . I’ll be downstairs.”

As I walked toward the bedroom door, I remembered my parents’ recent phone call. I pulled my phone out of my purse and looked at it. They had left me a voicemail.

The phone that had kept Christos out of jail was now the phone threatening to put me in a different kind of jail.

Screw my mom and dad.

They could wait.

I dropped my phone in my purse with a scowl and left the room.

Screw them.

SAMANTHA

I left Christos to sleep off his drunk.

Spiridon poured me a cup of tea in the kitchen and we made our way into the living room.

As tired as I was, all the stress of the past several days had my thoughts bouncing around inside my skull like a thousand ping pong balls. I needed to unwind.

I stretched out on the couch while Spiridon sat down across from me in his leather easy chair. He told me stories about his art career for hours.

The living room was the perfect location because Spiridon’s glorious landscape paintings hung all around us. They set the perfect mood as he wowed me with tales from his life as a world famous painter. He recalled all the celebrities he had met, the countries he had visited, and the awards he had won in the course of his illustrious career.

Spiridon had lived an amazing life I couldn’t help but envy. Art was in his blood. As was success. Art and success were also in the blood of his son Nikolos and his grandson Christos. The Manos family was truly blessed.

The Smith family hadn’t been nearly so lucky. Oh well. Even if my upbringing had been bland and mediocre by comparison, at least now I got to be around the Manos family. Maybe I could absorb some of their good luck. I was still young. There was still time for my life to turn out awesome too.

Close to midnight, Christos clomped downstairs into the living room and collapsed on the couch next to me. He still wore his shirt and tie and his slacks. Even with his hair a mess, he looked ready for the cover of GQ.

“He’s risen from the dead,” Spiridon chuckled from where he sat in his leather chair.

Christos clutched his hair in both hands. “I feel like someone has driven a spike through my head. I think I’m still buzzed. How much did I drink?”

“You probably need some water,” I suggested. Experience had taught me that water was a hangover’s worst enemy.

Christos groaned, “I think I got dehydrated during court today. I was too stressed about everything else to think about water. Those bourbons at dinner went straight to my brain.”

“I’ll get you some water,” Spiridon said as he stood up.

“I can do it,” I said.

“No, you sit with my grandson.” He smiled as he walked out of the living room.

“Christos, did you puke on the bed?” I asked.

He chuckled and snuggled up against me on the couch. “No. Like I said, I didn’t drink that much. I think it was the dehydration. I was loopy after three drinks. That never happens. I’ll be better after I get some water.”

Spiridon returned with a huge glass.

“Thanks, Pappoús ,” Christos said. He gulped down the entire glass in several long swallows. “Let’s see if it stays down,” he winked then set the glass on the coffee table. “Can I use your blouse as a bib if I spit up?”

“Eww!” I giggled. “That’s disgusting, Christos!”

He chuckled as he nuzzled his nose against my neck. “Gack!” he grunted, pretending to puke.

“Stop!” I laughed.

“I think I’ll be heading to bed,” Spiridon smiled, standing up. “It’s been a long day and I think you two need some time alone.”

“Good night, Pappoús ,” Christos said.

“Good night, paidí mou, ” Spiridon said as he rubbed Christos’ shoulder. “And good night to you to, koritsáki mou ,” he said to me as he leaned down and kissed the top of my head.

My parents never did that. I would’ve flinched if they did. But it felt completely normal when Spiridon did it. “Good night,” I smiled.