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Chris Pappas unbuttoned his stained work shirt and spread out the bills
on the table in his family’s cramped kitchen. His father poured out a
little ouzo for them. Chris explained the homeowner’s insurance had
gone
up again. He could help out a little more with it but he still had to
make his brother’s car and tuition payments by the first of the
month.
“Tony needs a better car,” his mother called from the living room.
“He’s
going to be a doctor.”
Olympia Pappas was knitting to the flicker of Wheel of Fortune. Chris
had asked her once why she watched it. She spoke little English,
although Chris suspected she understood far more than she let on.
Between family, friends, and church, she got by speaking Greek. And,
Chris was always there to talk to teachers or bill collectors. She said
she liked the show because everyone was so happy when they won.
Chris added up the monthly expenses and balanced it against his
paychecks and his father’s tips and wages. It was never enough. Chris
had even taken a seasonal job stocking shelves at night.
“Papa, you need to tell Uncle Nick to pay you more.” Chris sipped
his
ouzo. “The restaurant is doing great.”
Steve Pappas muttered it was time for his basketball game and joined
his
wife in the living room. Chris knew his father would never ask his
younger brother for more money. His father had washed dishes in every
diner in Tampa to bring Nick Pappas to the States in the 1950’s. Now
Steve Pappas bussed tables at his brother’s four-star restaurant.
Chris poured himself another shot of ouzo and took the newspaper out on
the front porch. He lit up a cigar, one of the few pleasures he allowed
himself, and opened the paper to the want ads. The box factory was
adding a night shift, and the Chevy dealership needed detailers on the
weekends.
A silver Toyota sedan pulled into the driveway behind Chris’ Adelphia
Cable van. Tony Pappas grabbed a backpack and a basket of laundry out
of
the car’s trunk and bounded up the front steps.
“Kalispera, big brother.” Tony hugged Chris with his free arm.
Seeing
the paper creased open to the classifieds, he added, “Looking for a
date? You might get laid if you ever moved out of the basement.”
“Did you get the money I sent?” Chris asked, too tired to rise to
the bait.
“Sure, sure.” Tony said impatiently and then pushed into the living
room. Chris sank back into his seat on the stoop. He could hear his
mother and father fussing over Tony. How skinny he was. How smart he
looked. How many girls he must have.
Chris relit his cigar.
After everyone went to bed, he finished wrapping the Christmas gifts
he’d stashed in his van. He needed his hand truck to get the big
present
inside. He placed it in the corner and straightened the bow.
Chris awoke in the morning to the smell of orange, cinnamon, and anise.
His mother was baking Tony’s favorite, Christ’s bread. Chris hoped
she
was also making kourabiedes. Her butter cookies melted on the tongue.
His father grunted at him as he sat down to a cup of strong black
coffee and a plate of warm bread and honey. Chris opened the paper to
the classifieds.
One of his cousins, Sofia, stopped by to wish him well on his name
day.
“Many Years,” she said as she presented him with a box of Cohiba
Blacks.
Chris rolled a black cigar under his nose and inhaled the sweet aroma
while Sofia wished his parents a Merry Christmas.
”Did you see the presents Tony brought us?” his father asked her.
He
pointed to the big box in the corner of the living room.
Sofia sighed ever so slightly before kissing Chris on the cheek.
“Every
family needs its Christos,“ she whispered into his ear and then left
to
see her own mother and father.
After Tony crawled out of bed, his mother herded the family into the
living room. Tony handed his parents each a small gift. His mother
unwrapped a charm bracelet; his father a new pipe. Both modeled their
presents proudly.
When his father asked about the big box in the corner, Chris confessed
that it was from him. A new television. Tony helped Chris unwrap it and
plug everything in.
”I liked the old set,” his mother said quietly. Chris reassured
her
that he would show her how to use it.
His father stared at the new remote and handed it to Tony. “Too many
buttons,” he said.
”Papa, that’s a really nice TV. Plasma,” Tony explained.
“Expensive.”
His father reluctantly took the remote back and started flicking
through the channels. “Nice color,” he finally said.
Chris gave his brother a flat blue box. Tony didn’t say anything as
he
opened it.
”You’ll need this next year.” Chris hung the brand new
stethoscope
around his brother’s neck.
Tony shifted uneasily under its weight.
Steve Pappas smacked his younger son on the back. “That is why we
came
to this country.”
Olympia Pappas dabbed her eyes. Then she pulled a final present out
from under the tree and handed it to Chris.
”From all of us,” she said.
He unwrapped a crisp white dress shirt.
”It’s for you to wear to Tony’s graduation,” his mother
explained. “Try
it on,” she urged as she tugged off Chris’ faded work shirt.
The snowy white fabric strained across his chest as his mother
buttoned
up the front. Chris longed for a cigar.
”You need to look nice,” she said, smoothing out the creases.
“Tony’s
going to be a doctor.”
Chris could feel the white shirt binding his chest, arms, and throat,
leaving him no room to breathe. His family looked at him, their eyes
full of expectations. None of them for him.
He backed away, clawing at the buttons on the white shirt, but there
were too many.
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FEATURE STORY 
