A/N: I'm uploading 3 chapters in one day today. Don't get used to it. It's just that it took me this long to figure out I do plan to continue this story, so I might as well put it online and maybe get some feedback for it as I do.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but paranoia over copywrite issues
2.
"we're going to Greece, we're going to Greece," Alex sings, dancing around the room happily.
I laugh. "I'm not sure yet, kid. We've gathered a lot of money, but I don't know if it'll be enough," I say.
He stops dancing for a second, thinks about it and then shrugs, going back to his dancing.
"what are you happy about now?" I ask.
He laughs and shrugs again.
"I just like dancing," he says.
I shake my head, smiling, looking down at my computer, where the number on the screen shows all the money we've gathered these last two months.
Christmas brought in more money then I'd expected and Alex' cookie-sale went much better than we thought it would.
Probably because he tricked people into buying cookies out of sympathy.
He twisted the true reason for our trip around a bit without ever actually lying, telling the story in such a way that people weren't entirely sure what was going on, but they knew Alex' daddy wasn't around and that his mommy had fallen in love with a Greek and conceived a child by him.
Of course, he 'completely forgot' to tell them about the fact that I'm not his real mother and he never actually said anything about the gender of the child of the Greek, so people automatically assumed it was him.
Especially around Christmas-time people are sensitive to things like that, so they bought a lot of cookies from him, wishing him luck in his quest to gather enough money to finally go meet his daddy.
He gathered about 300 dollars just from selling simple chocolate chip cookies, the only kind I know how to make.
All the Christmas 'presents' – mine and Alex' combined – added up to around 1.200 dollars.
Alex gathered another 150 dollars doing chores for people, also a lot more than we'd expected.
He probably told all those people the same story he told the people who bought his cookies.
I also saved up some money by wearing my old shoes until they literally fell apart and eating cheaper – and less.
All in all we gathered around 2.200 dollars.
Is it enough? I have no idea.
I know what that two-week trip cost me a year ago, but I went alone then.
Now I want to take a one-week trip with two children in tow.
Is that cheaper, because it's only one week?
Or more expensive, because it's a trip for trice the people?
And have the prices of the flight and hotel changed at all in this last year? Did it get cheaper? Or more expensive?
I probably should've researched all this already, but I figured it'd take at least 3 more months to gather this much money, so I thought I'd have enough time in those months to figure all this out.
I crack my knuckles and sit back in my chair.
Alex stops dancing – has he seriously been dancing for an hour straight? – and looks up at me hopefully.
"was it enough?" he asks, his voice trembling with barely contained excitement.
I sigh deeply, rubbing my hands over my face.
I secretly smile when his face falls and his shoulders slump.
"I hate packing," I mumble, making sure he hears me.
"we're going to Greece!" he yells, punching his fists up in the air in victory.
"yep," I say, smiling and pulling him onto my lap.
"and it's all thanks to you being so evil."
He laughs.
"I never lied," he says, always his excuse.
Alex has the uncanny ability to twist the truth to extreme extents without ever actually lying.
Nobody knows where he gets that from.
He didn't learn it from me, that's for sure.
I'm often criticized for being too honest, telling the truth even when I know people don't want to hear it.
I kiss him on the cheek and send him upstairs to go pack his bags.
I planned a flight for two days from now.
Now that I have the money, the only thing that was stopping me from going on this trip, and Alex doesn't have to go back to school for another week, so he'll only have to skip two or three days, I don't see the point in waiting any longer than is absolutely necessary.
The only reason I didn't plan the flight for this very evening is that it was cheaper to go two days from now.
300 dollars cheaper to be exact.
I'm not rich – or stupid – enough to just waste that much money on impatience.
Its not like H is waiting for me or even knows I'm coming, so he won't care if I show up today, tomorrow or three months from now.
"when is your flight?" my mother asks.
I turn around so fast my neck hurts.
I never heard her come into the room.
"Wednesday," I say.
No reason not to tell her.
"good, then I know when to plan my flight. How very kind of you to let me do that all by myself instead of just adding me to your flight-plan," she says annoyedly.
I just stare at her for a few seconds before my brains kicks into gear again, too shocked to respond immediately.
"oh, there is no reason for you to plan a flight of your own, seeing as you're not going," I say when she has already sat down and booted up her computer.
"this is my trip, my quest to go find the father of the bastard-child you wish had never been born. There is no place for you there."
"this is a family-trip. If you're taking my son, you're taking me," she says, typing away on her keyboard.
"funny how it's always 'your son' when you want something, but it's 'my son' when he does something you don't like or when he needs something," I say.
She glares at me, but doesn't respond.
Eventually she sits back and points at her computer-screen.
"you need to fill in your creditcard-number," she says.
Once again my brain shuts down in shock for a few seconds.
When it starts back up I can't stop laughing.
It takes at least three full minutes before I calmed down enough to speak full sentences without falling back into hysteria.
"wow. Thank you for that. It's been a while since I laughed that much. But let's get serious. One, I don't have the money. It was hard enough gathering enough for me and the little ones. And two, did you really think I was going to pay so you can come with us when I don't want you there? This time I'm sure of it, this time you really have lost your damn mind. Your brain must've been turned to mush if you at any time actually thought this was going to happen," I say, waving at her computer-screen.
"you want to go to Greece? Fine. Go to Greece. But you're paying for your own damn flight and don't think for even one second I'm going to allow you to stay in our hotel room. So you'll have to pay for your own room as well. I won't pay for your transportation there – be it by taxi, bus, train, boat or rental car – and if we go to places that require I pay an entry fee, I'll be paying for one adult, two children. If you go to Greece, we'll just be two separate 'families' who just happen to vacation in the same country at the same time, that is all."
She glares at me, her face red with anger, and opens her mouth, but I shake my head and shut my laptop, getting up to walk away.
"this conversation is over," I say, leaving the room and going upstairs to pack for myself and Liz.
Who knew the prospect of a vacation could make children so annoying.
Alex has been so exited these last two days that he's been bouncing off the walls the entire time, packing, unpacking and re-packing a million times, just to make sure he has everything he needs – and throwing out important things like his underwear in favor of fitting all his toys in his suitcase, so I had to unpack and repack his bags myself every time – and slowing me down every time we went somewhere together by starting up conversations with every single person we passed to tell them about the trip.
Liz is too young to understand what's going on – thank the gods for that, I could never handle two kids that hyperactive – but she responds to Alex' excitement by fussing and crying out for attention every other second.
I've never been more glad in my life when we've finally landed in Greece and the excitement dies down a little.
Don't get me wrong, I love seeing Alex that happy, but it's just so damn exhausting.
Raising 2 young'uns by myself is hard enough as it is without them suddenly needing twice the attention.
"okay, kid, remember: we visit the bars and shops H frequented a year ago first, before we do anything else. The real 'vacation' won't start until day two or three, so be patient, alright?" I ask.
Alex nods so hard I'm almost worried he might get a whiplash.
"yeah, I remember. Non-stepdaddy first, sightseeing later," he says, loading his suitcase onto the trolley.
"but in return you have to let me have a beer at one of the bars," he says, nodding as if it has already been decided.
I laugh, but my mother – who came with us after all, paying for her own trip since she had no other choice – gets angry.
"Alex! You are too young to drink. Actually, you should never drink, but if you have to, at least do it when you're old enough," she says.
Alex looks at her in utter confusion before turning to me for an explanation.
I laugh again.
"mother, he means root beer," I say.
"he's only 7 years old. Even if I wanted him to drink, do you really think any self-respecting bartender would sell alcohol to a seven year-old? But, Alex, I'm not sure they even sell root beer in Greece. I'm pretty sure that's an all-American drink."
"two fireshots and a coke," I say, putting the money on the bar and looking around.
So yeah, I shouldn't be doing shots at 2 in the afternoon, but I need to numb myself down a bit right now.
This is the seventh bar we've visited and the seventh time I've been told they either have no idea who H is or that he hasn't visited in over two years – which is a flat-out lie, considering I myself visited every single one of those bars with him just one year ago – and I'm starting to lose my faith.
I pick up the drinks and walk over to the table where my mother and Alex are sitting.
"how very nice of you to get me something as well," my mother says sarcastically.
"just because you happen to be in the same country and the same bar as me and you sat down at my table uninvited, that doesn't mean I have to get you a drink," I say and I shrug, putting the coke down in front of Alex and downing one of the shots before I'm even fully seated.
"drinking when the sun is still high, how unsightly," my mother says, turning her nose up at me.
I shrug again, downing the second shot and sitting back.
"nobody's forcing you to look," I just say.
"we'll find him," Alex says faithfully. "we still have two more bars, six stores and two discotheques to visit. There's just no way he doesn't still visit at least one of those places."
"yeah, unless he moved," I say, a theory I came up with after the third bar.
If he moved out of this town, obviously he would no longer visit the same places he frequented before.
He would have new bars, discos and shops to visit in his new hometown.
Alex looks at me with big eyes.
"is that a possibility?" he asks with a small voice.
I sigh and shake my head.
"yes, it is, but we're going to find him, dammit. If we have to travel to the ends of the earth, we will find him!" I say.
Alex laughs and nods.
"that's the spirit," he says happily.
"so this man, this 'H', he frequents bars and discos – any place he might find alcohol and drugs – and impregnates women he barely knows, and you wish to find him why?" my mother asks.
"one: he doesn't do drugs and he isn't an alcoholic, he likes bars and discos because they're the best place to get to know a lot of new people. He's just social. Two: the reason we're trying to find him is exactly because he's impregnated me. I want him to know he has a daughter. And three: please keep your judgmental bullshit to yourself. Judge me and I'll just shrug it off, but don't speak a bad word about my children or about H," I say.
"why are you defending him? This is a man who slept with you when he had no intention of marrying you, leaving you with his bastard-child and then running off. Besides, you haven't even spoken to him in over a year, you'd think that after having all this time to think about it you'd have realized he never loved you in the slightest, he only pretended to so you'd sleep with him," she says.
I smile and shrug.
"I don't know whether or not he was ever in love with me, but that doesn't change the fact that I spent some of the best days of my life with him, so I won't allow anyone to badmouth him. And as you are well-aware Elizabeth was conceived right here, in Greece. I'm the one who 'ran off' when I went back to America," I say.
"now, I've seen more than enough bars for one day, so let's continue with the shops until the discos open."
"yeah, I know him. At least, if you're talking about who I think you're talking about. Haven't seen him come in here for a while now, but I saw him in this new club in town, 'Goddess Central', just a few weeks ago. Does that help?" a salesman asks me in the fourth store we visit.
I grab his face and kiss him on the mouth, pissing off my mother with my 'promiscuity', and Alex starts dancing around the store.
The man laughs.
"I guess it does help, huh?" he asks and I nod.
"thank you, really. I swear, if I had to listen to one more person telling me they've never heard of the person who came into their shop every single day over a period of at least seven years I was going to kill someone," I say.
"well, then I'm even more glad I could help, seeing as I'd be the closest person to you at that time," he says and I laugh.
"don't worry, I didn't mean actually 'murder' someone, just kill them a tiny little bit," I say, holding up my hand, my fingers only half an inch apart.
He looks confused for a second and then just shrugs it off, shaking his head at my craziness.
"goddess central, huh?" Alex asks as we walk out of the store and hail a cab to get us back to our hotel.
My mother isn't getting in with us, as I still refuse to pay for her transportation, even if it wouldn't actually cost me anything extra.
"that one wasn't on the list." I shake my head and shrug.
"no, but the salesman did say it was a 'new' club, so it probably just didn't exist back when I knew H," I say.
"either way, now we know two things. One, he still lives in this town, or at least he still visits it from time to time, which is great. And two, he's been seen in this new club not too long ago, so the bartenders or the bouncers might still remember him. It's a stretch, considering how many new faces those people see every single day, but if the club isn't too big it's still a possibility."
Alex nods happily.
"we'll find him for sure," he says.
"why are you looking for him?" both the bartenders ask at the same time, but with different emotions behind the question.
One of them looks annoyed and distrusting, the other looks curious, amused and a bit confused.
"I knew him a while ago, but when I left the country we lost contact. We were pretty close back then, so now that I'm in town once more I figured I'd get back in touch with him," I say.
I purposely leave out the part about how close we really were and that I gave birth to his child.
Mostly because it's just none of their business, but also because they might not tell me what they know if they think I'm on a quest to find the father of a child I conceived during a one-night-stand so I can ask him for money or something.
"well, I can give him your number and tell him you want him to call," the curious bartender says with a slight smile.
The other one still looks annoyed.
"that would be great. Oh, but since I'm pretty sure at least one of you knows how to contact him, if you don't see him here again within the next week, could you just give him a call? I'm going back home next Friday and I don't want to miss him," I say, writing down my number and handing it to the curious bartender, even though it's the annoyed bartender who holds his hand out for it.
The curious bartender looks even more curious now, but one look at the other guy's face tells him all he needs to know and he smiles, obviously amused by the other guy's anger.
If I'd given my number to the annoyed one, I have a suspicion it's going to mysteriously disappear into the nearest trashcan as soon as I walk out the door.
"and who may I say was looking for him?" the curious one asks.
"I never said?" I ask and he shakes his head.
"huh. You'd think I'd introduce myself before asking questions like that. Anyway, I'm Leila. I knew H a little over a year ago. I don't know if he even remembers me, but whatever," I say.
"why wouldn't he remember you, if you were as close as you say you were?" the annoyed one asks and I laugh.
"honey, you think I remember the names of every single one of my ex-...friends?"
I purposely pause as if having to stop myself from saying 'ex-girlfriends' just to annoy the guy a bit more.
And judging by how red his face is getting, it worked.
"well, see ya," I say cheerfully, walking back out.
I have to get back to the hotel as quickly as possible.
The nanny I hired charged me an arm and a leg for looking after my kids for just one hour.
I can't really complain, since I called her at 4 PM and she had to start 'work' at 9 PM the same day, when normally nannies require you let them know well beforehand – at least one day before the day you need them – when you'll be expecting them, but still, I'll lose my other arm and leg as well if I'm not back within the next fifteen minutes, because she'll charge an entire hour extra if I'm even five minutes late.
And I just don't have that kind of money.
This vacation is expensive enough as it is, without unfortunate accidents like that.
