The Greeks of Beaubien Street (8 page)

“My family went every week, still does. At least my dad does,” Andy said. “I know Uncle Nick goes a couple of times a week.”

Lucky for Chris, when the state home closed he was old enough to live in a group home. He wanted to go with his friends from Plymouth State. Whenever Gus asked him if he would like to come to Detroit for a visit, he always refused. He had never stepped out of the town of Plymouth.

~ ~ ~

Andy left to go home after ten. He knew Dana would be furious with him. He was staying away from home for longer and longer periods, but he couldn’t help himself. It was self-preservation. She was always so angry with him. She had wanted to get pregnant so badly, and was the first to admit afterward that having kids was no bed of roses. Her parents had lived two blocks away and that was why Dana and Andy bought where they did. Then they found land on which to build a house that was more than an hour from Novi, and her support system left town.

Four of her girlfriends were over on Sunday with their children, playing in the pool he put in because she needed it to survive the boring summer months while he worked. He overheard Dana telling them that she was embarrassed that her husband worked in a Greektown grocery store. He was stunned; he knew she hated the idea of him working far from her, but embarrassed? When he graduated from college, he realized after six months that he hated his job as a CPA. Dana had agreed that if what he wanted to do was to work at the family grocery store in hopes of someday taking it over, it was what he should do. But what she assumed was that he would move it out of the city, or open a branch, or sell it. Not that he would drive into Detroit every, single day of the week and leave her at home with two kids.

Andy loved the boys. From their birth he got up in the middle of the night for feedings, did the grocery shopping, got someone in to clean, and tried to do everything he could to be helpful to his wife and ease her burden. But it wasn’t enough.

Gus let him come in at ten so he would miss rush hour and be able to see his family in the morning. So Dana could sleep in, Andy got up with the boys every morning, fixed them breakfast, and played with them until it was time for him to leave for the city at nine. Three days a week, he left the store early and would be home in time to see his boys get off the bus. He made up for it by going in on Saturdays, but he always brought the boys with him and invited Dana, who declined.

“Why in God’s name would I want to spend my Saturday with your mother and father in that filthy town? Forget it. I can’t think of anything I dislike more. My parents are hurt because we haven’t been to Stockbridge yet to see their property. Maybe I’ll go alone while you subject our kids to the ghetto life.”

“Momma will be sorry! Won’t she, boys?” Andy teased, trying to smooth over what she had said in front of the kids so they wouldn’t repeat it to Gus.

“I doubt it. The only thing I am sorry about right now is marrying you.” Dana looked Andy right in the eye. Things were bad between them, but he hadn’t realized how bad. He was used to having his feeling hurt by her, but even this was over the top.
What was wrong with her?

“I’ll call Gus and tell him I’m not coming in today. We need to talk, that’s obvious enough.” Andy went to her, to touch her, grabbing her arm. He needed to connect with her.

“Don’t bother, Andy! I have plans today. You think my life revolves around you, but it doesn’t. Go to your dirty store and have a great day!” She pulled away from him and went into their bedroom, slamming the door.

“What’s wrong with Mommy?” Little Danny asked. Andy picked him up.

“I made Mommy sad because I forgot to bring her flowers. I’ll bring some tonight, okay?” Both boys shook their heads
yes
vigorously. Andy vacillated between thinking he should go to his wife and demand that she talk to him or run out the door to escape to work. He chose work.

Chapter 9

Being Greek, living above the family grocery store, having a special needs brother, a dead mother, and a little ESP cemented Jill’s outcast standing in the community.

One day when she was about fourteen she went to the public library to borrow a book and when she was leaving, she overheard a group of boys her age say “Now there’s a smelly Greek.” She whipped around to see where it had come from, knowing it was meant for her, when she made eye contact with the librarian, also Greek. The librarian picked up a book, put it to the side of her mouth facing the crowded room, and mouthed, “Fuck them.” After she got over her initial shock, Jill snickered, flipped her ponytail over her shoulder, and with her head held high, walked out.

Somehow she was able to maintain that mindset of not allowing the smallness of others affect her sense of self-worth. She led a charmed life and knew it. Certainly, it was sad and tough to have lost her mother at such a young age, but her grandmother loved her, her grandfather cherished her, and her father worshiped her. It was more comedic than anything else that she was out of place in a neighborhood of her own people. It strengthened her resolve to serve them in some way, to turn the tables on them as a way of retaliation. Her revenge would be to make them grateful.

She always wanted to be a police officer. She rarely saw her Uncle Nick, but when she did, he was in uniform. She remembered seeing him the day he delivered the news of her mother’s death; he was beside himself. His parents shushed him, begging him to pull himself together for the sake of Gus. Grief didn’t diminish his appearance. Tall, dark and handsome, with the dark blue dress uniform, a black leather shoulder holster, and his hat in his hands, she was sure people didn’t even notice that he was Greek. He was just ravishing. His wife was an Irish girl he met in Corktown; Paula was a beauty. She had shiny blue-black hair like Jill, but there the similarities ended. Where Jill had black eyes and olive skin, Paula had huge blue eyes and pale, rosy skin. Paula’s figure was rounded and curvy. Jill was like her mother; broad shouldered and flat hipped. At Christina’s funeral, the eight year old Jill approached her.

“May I say something, Aunt Paula?” she asked.

“Why of course, Jillian. What is it?” Paula leaned forward in anticipation of her young niece, possibly getting ready to confess her anguish over the loss of her mother. Instead,

“My Uncle Nick is sure handsome, isn’t he? He’s what the women around here call a ‘tall drink of water.’” She lifted her eyebrow and nodded her head toward where he was standing with his brothers. Paula frowned and told Jill they should be honoring her mother that day.
This child was impossible.

“Don’t you think that’s bad manners, Jill? This is your mother’s funeral,” Paula admonished.

“Oh, it’s okay. Mom always said the same thing when she was alive. She liked Uncle Nick a lot.” As a child, Jill overheard her mother talking about her handsome brother-in-law to a friend. She later wondered about her uncle’s influence on her decision to be a cop. She didn’t think Uncle Nick and his uniform had much to do with it, but Paula thought it did and made sure the rest of the family knew it, too. Years later, after having too much to drink at Jill’s police academy graduation, Paula approached her husband as he stood talking to his niece.

“She’s like the daughter you never had, isn’t that right Nicky? Look at you in your uniform Jill! If you play your cards right, your Uncle Nick might leave you something in his will, isn’t that right honey?”

“Oh Jesus, not this again,” Nick said, kissing his niece on her cheek. “I better get your Aunt Paula home.” Self-conscious of her uniform after that, Jill was careful to be in civilian clothing when Nick and Paula were expected. She’d leave her gun and badge locked in the car.

It wasn’t only the relatives who thought Jill was odd. Her own mother had doubts. Christina was leaving Greektown to visit Christopher in Plymouth one Saturday when she saw Jill picking at something in the gutter with Dido standing over her, the two of them talking away. She maneuvered the big car around and headed back, carefully pulling up. Later, she would tell her husband about it.

“The child had a stick in her hand and she was turning over a dead rat. She was crouching in the gutter like a street urchin wearing a red dotted-Swiss dress. That old woman was telling her something, but the minute I showed up, she clammed up and went back to her perch at the gun shop.” Christina looked at her daughter. “What were you doing with the rat? What was Dido talking to you about?” she asked her.

“Nothing! Dido told me that in Athens, they had rats all over their house. She said during the war they ate them when there was no food,” Jill explained. Christina took her by her arm and gave her a little shake.

“And what were you doing with the rat?” she asked, exasperated.

“I just wanted to see it up close. It had a hole in its side and the guts were coming out. There was a long tube curled up…” Christina yelled for her to stop.

“That is enough! You go to your room right now! I don’t want to hear another word about rats or guts or tubes, do you understand me? And stay away from Dido!” She pointed her finger toward the staircase. “Go!” Jill, not one to let someone else get the last word in, was just as glad to be away from these old people.

“Fine!” She put her head in the air and walked up the stairs, taking her time, knowing she was infuriating her mother.

After Christina’s death, Jill was remorseful for having caused her anguish. Her sense of isolation increased. The other children avoided her; frightened they would lose their own mothers just by association. Now her grandmother would accompany her to Corktown school functions. Or her father would attend if he could get away. Jill would speak only Greek to them, making the family more of a curiosity than ever. When they were on the street, Dido purposely baited the little girl, asking her in Greek if she knew how her mother died and if she missed her. The questioning intrigued Jill; it was as though she had come upon some forbidden knowledge, or viewed a photograph not suitable for children. She’d linger at Dido’s side, thinking long and hard about how to answer the difficult questions. And when she was finally able to put into words her deepest feelings, heartbreaking testimonials of a young girl who’d lost her mother in a violent car crash, Dido would slowly smile, and nod her head in satisfaction.

Chapter 10

So excited about her date with Mike Friday night, Gretchen Parker woke up in the morning without her alarm clock. She pulled on her running clothes and sneakers and left the house at six. If she ran a good five miles, she could skip the gym after work and spend that time getting her nails done. Mike noticed when she put in that extra bit with her appearance. She knew she was beautiful; was that so wrong? It wasn’t like she bragged about it but acknowledging it was different. It gave her an edge that most other women didn’t have. Plus, the praise and attention her father lavished on her strengthened her self-confidence when it wasn’t suffocating her.

Tonight, Mike was introducing her to his friend Soud. He talked non-stop about her; she was an agent for the biggest modeling agency in the U.S. Gretchen didn’t have a portfolio, but Mike told her not to worry; they would arrange for her photos. It wouldn’t cost her anything, either.

Mike liked it that her dad was so strict. She asked if her curfew would be a hindrance to meeting a big agent but Mike said no; they were going to meet at the Fairlane in the early evening and Soud would see Gretchen in the room she rented for her visit. She was in Dearborn for the weekend and had a family function to attend Saturday. Gretchen liked how the Lebanese were so tightly knit. She didn’t have any family besides her mom and dad.

Gretchen got home at seven and hurried through her morning routine; she pulled into the bank parking lot at 7:59 sharp. The day went quickly. After work, she rushed home to get ready for her date. She wore exactly what Mike said she should wear: skinny jeans, black high heels, and a crisp, white sleeveless blouse. Her mother was worried she would get cold later, so she took a black sweater along, just in case. She didn’t tell her parents about Soud; they would expect too much explanation and she found it was better to keep things simple.

Mike drove to Fairlane. He walked with her to the hotel room number that Soud had given him. She answered the door at the first knock. Mike introduced the women. Soud made a point of looking Gretchen up and down, smiling.

“Good job, Mikey!” she said. “You can still pick the women!” Gretchen was pleased that Soud was happy with her. “Come in, Gretchen.” Soud walked over to a seating area next to a window overlooking Michigan Avenue. “Have a seat,” she said pointing to the sofa. It was a busy Friday night; traffic was bumper to bumper. The cars’ red taillights glowed in the darkness. It had just started to rain, a light mist that made the lights reflect on the black pavement. Soud made a show of getting an application out of a briefcase that was on the floor next to the couch. She walked over to Gretchen and gave her the application and a pen.

“If you don’t mind, fill this out, will you? We can get right down to the interview.” Gretchen looked at the application and an alarm bell went off in her head. It was a copy of a copy, fuzzy type and faded, of a generic job application. Gretchen was sure Mike had used the words ‘biggest modeling agency’ when he described the group Soud was affiliated with. She was suddenly frightened, but she knew that Mike would be annoyed if she questioned them now. Could this possibly be a scam? She took a deep breath and decided not to worry, to just go with the flow. She could trust Mike, she was sure of it. He seemed to have an old world respect for her, a gentlemanly honor. Certainly, he wouldn’t involve her in anything shady. She began to fill the form out. Soud kept up a steady banter of conversation.

“My company is a combination modeling agency/escort service. When our clients come into the city they may need a companion to attend a special event or a date for an evening out.” Gretchen was listening to Soud, but what she was saying wasn’t registering.
Why would Mike want me to date other men?
Mike saw her expression, a combination of surprise with a little fear mixed in.