Page 14 of Arrogant Arrival

I eye the dancing bodies through the bright, multicolored strobe lights. I’m in Los Angeles tonight because my boss had a meeting. That’s one flight I never turn down. Layovers in L.A. are the best. I spot a stunning, curvy blond. I definitely don’t want any brunettes for a while.Not that they remind me of anyone or anything.I watch her until she makes eye contact with me. She smiles and nods.Green light.

I stand up from the bar stool and make my way through the bodies to her. I lean toward her and speak over the music in her ear. “I’m sorry that I was staring. I couldn’t seem to take my eyes off you.”

“Why look when you can touch?” She takes my hands and places them on her swaying hips.No bullshitting around. I like her.

We dance a little, and then I ask her if she’d like a drink. She nods, and I guide her to the bar. She leans toward me and says over the music. “Are you a local?”

“No. Just here for the night.”

“What brings you to L.A.?”

“My work. I’m a pilot.”Let’s get that out there and in her face before we go any further.

A huge smile stretches across her face. “No shit? Which airline? I’m a flight attendant.”

Oh, fuck me, not again.“I’m sorry. I have to go.” I drop some cash on the bar for both our drinks and leave like my ass is on fire.

Jimmy

One month later…

I silently groan as my mother hounds me again about providing her with grandchildren and will she live to be a yia-yia. The woman isn’t even fifty, but acts like her final days are just around the corner. I’m still in my twenties, so I feel like we all have plenty of time before our clocks start ticking, but try to tell that to a Greek mother. She wants grandkids and she wants them now.

“Jimmy Mou…” My mother’s heavy Greek accent calls to me sayingMy Jimmy. It comes off lovingly, yet scolding me at the same time.A skill only she has mastered.

She called to see how my flight went to Chicago, but somehow it’s come back around to when am I going to start a family. “What about your yia-yia? Huh? Do you not care? She wants to be able to see you at your wedding. Butno. All you do is fly around in the sky, free as a bird. But you know what else birds do? They build nests. They build nests for their families. When are you going to build a nest and start a family, Dimitrios?”

Bringing my grandma into this conversation is a low blow from Ma. She knows how much I love that feisty old bird. I know they all want to see me settle down and have children, preferably get married to a nice Greek girl with a huge Greek wedding and procreate Greek babies, at least one boy to carry the family name, but this bird is still spreading his wings.

“You know, my cousin Maria said she knows of a–”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Ma, but I have an incoming call from my client. I’ve got to go. He’s probably finished his meeting and needs me to fly him back home.”

“Alright, Jimmy. You come back home and we can discuss over dinner, yeah?”

I don’t want to discuss her playing the Greek matchmaker, but I also hate to miss out on her cooking. Decisions, decisions, decisions.

“I’ll be there by five.”

“Bravo, Jimmy! Be safe. S’agapo para polli androuli mou!”

I tell her that I love her too and end the call. There’s got to be some way to get them to let this go. My Ma and Yia-Yia are stubborn women, though. They’re not going to be satisfied until I’m married and off producing many little Greeklings. My phone rings again and I see it’s my cousin Bianca.

“Don’t tell me Ma has already called you,” I groan into the phone.

She giggles. “No. Why would she?”

“Oh, I just figured she sent you on a mission to scour New York to find me a Greek bride.”

“I mean, she’s asked me to before, but not today. Well, not yet anyway, it’s still early.” I can hear the smile in her voice.

“That’s not surprising. You better be glad that your parents were so laid back. They didn’t care whether or not you and Dex got married right away, or whether or not he was Greek.”

“We had other issues to worry about, if you recall. Like whether or not he was my step-brother.”

“Yeah, well, I think Ma’sonlyrequirement is that I marry a Greek. Not too sure if she’s worried about whether or not we’re related.”

“Ew! Jimmy, no. Thea isn’t that bad.” Thea is the Greek word for aunt. We both laugh, even though I’m only halfway joking, and she is too. “I wanted to call you about a trip.”

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