Fruit of Misfortune (5 page)

“Are you going to keep me from speaking to
my friends, as well? Or does this rule apply to the general
public?”

“Enough!” The thunderous tone of his voice
startled me.

People passing on the street stopped and
stared. David had never before expressed anger toward me. It hurt,
and I was embarrassed at being made a public spectacle, even if it
was only for five seconds. I felt my eyes start to burn, and I
turned my face away from him.

“My love,” David said. “I… I’m sorry.”

He wiped my tears and hugged me, but I
didn’t return his embrace.

Once I calmed down, David and I walked to a historical museum
a few blocks from where the car was parked. David continued to
apologize the whole way there. I accepted his apology, but the
wound was still hovering over the surface of my emotions. Before we
entered the museum, the tears threatened to spill again. I lowered
my face as we walked through the glass doors.

Age-old Greek relics and statues occupied
the National Archeological Museum. I listened as David gave me
accounts of the time period to which they dated.

“They’re no longer with us.” David pointed
to two of the statues whose nude bodies were sculpted in the image
of the artist’s perspective of perfection—at least that’s how David
had explained it. “The faces of deities were never depicted with
exactness,” he said in a quiet voice.

“And there…” He pointed to another statue.
“There’s one you might find interesting.”

The longhaired statue of a young man with a
morose and despairing gaze looked familiar. It had a full, short
beard, and part of the nose was missing.

“This one looks like someone I’ve seen,” I
said as I continued to study it.

“Does it?”

“It reminds of… Wait. Is
that supposed to be
you?
”

David nodded.

“Are there any more of them—of you, I
mean?”

“The only other statue that bears little, if
any, resemblance to me is in Florence, Italy. It’s quite
large—seventeen feet in height. You may have heard of it. We share
the same name.”

“It’s named after you?”

“It is.” David nodded.

“The statue is named David Chios?”

“No.” He smiled. “It’s just named
David.”

I thought for a moment.

“Are you talking
about
the
statue
of David?”

“That’s the one.”

“Michelangelo sculpted that in the 1500s, I
think. That was much, much later than any of these.” I pointed to
the statues around the room.

“Correct, again.”

“Why and how did you end up posing for
Michelangelo… and in the nude?”

“He wanted to sculpt a true representation
of David, so I offered him the real one from his dreams.”

“But he wanted to sculpt the David from
Biblical times, not the god of dreams. You made him sculpt
something he thought was a vision of his artistic mind.”

“Yes, but the outcome was a
masterpiece.”

“You kind of lied to him.”

“No.” David shook his head. “I did give him
a David from the Bible—the one that slew the giant Goliath. Do you
know this story?”

“Are you making this up?” The word
“blasphemy” could hardly keep from rolling off my tongue.

“Of course not. Why would I lie to you?”

“You were a king?”

“A temporary one, and it was only to keep
the other David alive so that he could fulfill his appointed role.
He was given his throne right after I did my job and slew the
giant. David was a great man. So great, in fact, that Deus spoke to
him, which is uncommon. Deus doesn’t speak to just anyone so
directly.”

“So how did you know what to do?”

“I received my orders from the Council.”

“Your stories, they sound like the fantasy
books I like to read. They’re too farfetched. I don’t even know
what to believe anymore.”

“The things I tell you shouldn’t change your
faith. I respect your beliefs because that’s the way you were
raised.”

“I love that about you—that you don’t try to
change me.”

“Because I love you as you are,” he said. “I
don’t want you to change.”

His words should’ve been flattering, but
instead they upset me. There had to be at least one thing—or a lot
of things—about me he wished I would change. He leaned down to kiss
me, but at that moment, I didn’t want his kiss. I turned my head to
the side and said, “I think we’ve seen enough here. Where to
next?”

“The Parthenon,” he said with a confused
look.

***

At the foot of the Acropolis, peddlers
offered tourists curios out of their backpacks.

“No,” David said, taking the umbrella from
my hand and returning it to the young man who was eager to make a
sale. “He’s loitering, and the police are coming. You could end up
in jail along with him.”

When David said that, I took notice of two
uniformed men headed our way. The boy stuck the umbrella in his
backpack and ran, the policemen fast on his trail until all three
of them disappeared in the distance.

The walk up to the temples was tiring. The
terrain was uneven and rocky, and it was hard to walk on, even in
my tennis shoes. My mouth was dry from the hike uphill in the arid
Athenian weather. Passing several small temples on our way, at last
we reached the heartbreaking—yet, glorious—ruins of the Temple of
Athena, otherwise known as the Parthenon.

Against the bright blue sky, the temple’s
white limestone pillars seemed to claim access to the heavens.
Standing before the remains of that marvel, David’s presence only
added to the brilliance that I saw him with. And yet, the memory of
his earlier outburst reminded me he wasn’t perfect. Again, I felt
the pain that his abrasive tone had delivered earlier. This time, I
didn’t cry. But I did wonder if he had any other sides to his
personality that I hadn’t yet seen.

“…and she was a warrior, defender of people.”
I heard only the last part of David’s description of the goddess
Athena.

“Was she real?”

“I’m boring you, aren’t I?”

“No.”

“I think I am,” he said, tucking a strand of
hair behind my ear. “Maybe we should call it a day. I’m sure you’re
tired and hungry.”

“I’m a little starved, actually.”

“So am I,” he said, “since last night. But
not for food.”

I blushed at his comment.

***

After I showered, I went downstairs and tried
to make small talk with Camilla in English. That didn’t work out
too well, so I joined David at the table. Paulina arrived with a
mesh bag full of vegetables a few minutes later.

I watched Paulina’s long, slender hands as
she carried the breadbasket from the counter to the table and
placed it next to David. Her eyes sparkled every time she came near
him. I felt like in some way she was robbing me of his
attention.

Her exotic features—large almond eyes, full
lips, and high cheekbones—drew attention away from an imperfection
that would have been obvious in any other person. A long scar ran
from the edge of her mouth to her chin. That was the only flaw on
her sun-kissed skin.

David opted to have our supper served at the
small kitchen table. I was so preoccupied with staring at Paulina,
that I didn’t even notice when Eros took a seat next to me. But as
soon as he did, I felt the shock of familiar electricity I’d
experienced earlier.

“Hello, again,” Eros said to me. “How was
your sightseeing?”

“It was nice.”

By my observation, Eros seemed to like
hearing himself talk, and he was doing just that—talking a whole
lot. But I wasn’t paying much attention to the discussion. All I
could concentrate on was Paulina’s body language around David. Eros
made it difficult to keep an eye on her, however. Every so often,
he’d pose a question to me, and I’d have to ask him to repeat it.
He made it a point to touch my face or my arm when he required an
answer. His touch sparked tiny shocks that made me flinch. I
avoided his eyes, knowing that if he caught my gaze I wouldn’t be
able to look away.

At last, I managed to block out Eros, but it
was only because I was starting to get annoyed with Paulina’s
flirty eyes on my boyfriend. The tension in my stomach was growing,
and though the meal hadn’t started yet, I already wanted it to be
over and done with.

Paulina took her time to set out David’s
plate and utensils, her white cotton blouse grazed David’s arm. My
mouth tightened—hers smiled.

I reached for David’s hand. He responded by
raising my knuckles to his lips. Paulina’s eyes dropped, and her
smile faded. She excused herself, but returned a few minutes later,
continuing her duties with a stoic expression.

A cell phone rang during the
meal—David’s.

“Yes, Father?” he said as he answered it.

Eros and I remained quiet, allowing David to
speak to Alezzander.

“I will. And I’ll give your regards to Eros
and Isis, as well.” He hung up the phone.

“What was that about?” I asked.

“We’ll have to make a change in our plans for
part of this evening and most of tomorrow,” said David. “I’m sorry,
my love, but we won’t be able to travel to Kyparissia until the day
after next. I have to attend a board meeting at my father’s
company. I’m the only proxy available on such short notice, and one
of our family members has to be present.”

“You’re a little young for that, aren’t
you?”

“Young?” Eros snorted.

“This won’t be the first time I’ve had to
step in,” David said, ignoring Eros. “Will you be okay to stay
here?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I’ll be fine.”

“What’s in Kyparissia?” Eros glanced between
David and me.

“I thought Isis might enjoy the scenery,”
David said.

“Why not take her to the isles of Greece,
instead? That’s your home.”

“That place hasn’t been home for many years.
But it’s not a bad idea.” David turned to look at me. “Would you
like to go in a couple of weeks?”

“Where is this island, exactly?” I asked.

More important than location, I wondered what
the cost would be to travel there. I didn’t want to spend the money
I had received as a gift from my father only on vacationing. I
wanted to buy a car, a little something for my mother, and save the
rest.

“The island of Chios is located off the coast
of Turkey, but it belongs to Greece,” David said. “A short
forty-five minute flight will get us there.”

“I don’t know…” I wrinkled my nose.

Eros put his arm around my shoulder. I
breathed inwardly when I felt his touch.

“My sweet, what’s holding you back?” Eros
asked.

“Money, I presume?” David turned my face
toward him and pried me out from Eros’ arm. “I’ll take care of the
cost.”

“I don’t need your money.” I didn’t realize
how rude I’d sounded until I heard myself spit out the words.

David glared at me, and then pushed his chair
away from the table. “Enjoy your dinner,” he said, looking at Eros,
and he walked away.

“David, wait…” I followed him into the living
room. “I didn’t mean it to sound like that.”

“Perhaps,” he said, opening the front door
and looking back at me, “you haven’t fully realized what that star
on your chest signifies. Why won’t you let me take care of
you?”

“I feel uncomfortable having you pay for such
expensive things.”

“Is it really about how much I spend on you,
or is it because you’ll feel like you have a commitment to
make?”

“No, that’s not it. I just—I’m not your
responsibility.”

“Is that what you think? Isis, you’re not
only my responsibility, you’re my priority—and I assumed I was
yours.”

“David—”

“I have to go,” he said, and he walked out
the door.

***

Instead of returning to the table where Eros
sat alone, I took refuge with my journal in the den. With my head
in my hands, I sat there thinking for a long time about the weight
that the Star Crest carried. What if I was in over my head with
this relationship? Things were getting too serious too fast for
me.

As I opened my journal to an empty page, I
noticed Eros leaning on the doorframe. How long had he been
there?

“Bonsoir,” Eros said.

“Sorry I didn’t go back to the dinner table.
I kind of lost my appetite.”

“I don’t mind eating alone.”

He walked into the room with his hands dug
into his pants pockets. I closed my journal and slid it closer to
me as he approached the walnut desk.

“What are you doing in here?”

“Nothing important.”

Being alone in the same room with him made me
nervous, especially with him looking at me in the way he did.

“I didn’t think anyone kept journals
anymore.”

“Is that one of your
abilities—clairvoyance?”