Epilogue Hey Zeus

epilogue

Hey Zeus

Eight Months later…

Tipping back on the wooden chair dug into sand on Aegleia Beach, Jesse peered over his glasses at his subject and shaded in the lines of his pencil drawing.

Demetrios sauntered out of the taverna onto the terrace and handed down two glasses of beer to a couple. He then flicked out the cloth tucked into his chino shorts, wiped around their table for them and slipped it back in his waistband, sparking up a conversation with the holidaymakers that lit up his dark features. He pointed a few times, arms outstretched, as if giving directions to must-see destinations whilst on Naxos.

Jesse smiled, then went back to his drawing.

“Working hard, Jesse?”

Jesse glanced behind him to Yiannis. He then flipped over the page he was sketching to the one beneath of the mythical dragon, upon which rode a teenage boy. His work.

“Always.” Jesse drew the fire being blown out of the dragon’s mouth.

Yiannis tapped his shoulder with a fond chuckle. “I’m going fishing.”

‘Going fishing’ was code word for Yiannis first visiting Freya’s grave, then moseying on over to where all the other senior citizens of Aegleia hung out on deck chairs, watching the world go by sipping on beer and ouzo.

“You’ll be back by five, though, right?” Jesse called over his shoulder.

“Nai, nai.” Yiannis waved him off.

“And you’ll be sober!”

Yiannis grunted under his breath in Greek. Jesse assumed that was affirmative.

Not officially retired, Yiannis had handed most of the business over to Demetrios. Meaning he and Jesse were running the place together. Well, Demetrios ran it and Jesse sat here, on the beach, illustrating and drawing and living his best life.

He’d painted the pictures that now hung in the taverna too, adding a price tag to them in case any tourists wanted to buy directly from the artist. Many were of his mother. He’d found by recreating her image in art, he felt closer to her. Like she was still there somehow. And when he drew them, he could talk to her. He also created a ton of the view. The taverna itself. And Demetrios, of course. Jesse couldn’t, nor wouldn’t, stop drawing Demetrios.

But one of the big five publishers had picked up the fantasy novel written by the guy Jesse had landed in bed with on more than one occasion, and Jesse now had the contract of illustrating it. To Demetrios’ dismay. Jesse had discovered that bedding people can have the desired effect on careers. As Demetrios knew all too well. It’s how he’d grown the Kallis business, after all. But as most of Jesse’s conversations about the characters and artwork happened over Zoom, there wasn’t much chance of Jesse falling into bed with the writer again. Not that he would. Why would he? He shared a bed with a Greek God of a night. Anyone else paled in comparison.

Speaking of pale, Jesse slathered more sun cream on his face. Since his move to Aegleia, he’d been permanently covered in factor fifty. And as the scent was an aphrodisiac to Demetrios, him often offering to rub in the parts Jesse couldn’t reach, whether they were exposed to the sun or not, Jesse hadn’t burned yet.

Greece had been a good move for him.

Like it had been for his mum.

Demetrios sauntered over to him, sliding warm hands on his shoulders, and kissed the back of his neck. “That’s good.”

“It’s Ladon.”

“Huh.”

“I know. Can you believe the book is based on Greek mythology?”

“I’d say the author was trying to get your attention.” Demetrios stood straighter, massaging his shoulders, fingers digging in a tad too hard.

Jesse peered up at him. “You’re my Greek God, remember.”

Demetrios smiled, leaned down and kissed him on the lips.

Jesse’s phone vibrated on the table, Jade’s name popping up on the screen. He widened his eyes at Demetrios, then grabbed it, swiping open the call and there she was, red faced, sweating and panting.

“Jesse!” she screamed. “I’m in labour!”

“Shouldn’t you call Trent?”

“He’s here, but he’s useless! Oh my God, Jesse, it hurts! I take it back. I want to go to West Five with you, get drunk and have fun!”

“I’m in Greece.”

“Urgh. There’s always an excuse with you men!” She blew out from rounded lips. “I can’t do it, Jess. I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. I mean, you kind of have to.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I don’t. Don’t tell me what I want!”

Demetrios crouched down beside Jesse, hovering into the frame. “Think of the baby, Jade. That little bundle of joy you get to hold in your arms. Your baby wants to meet you. And we want to meet them. So go on, have it. Then come out here and we’ll have ouzo on ice for you.”

“Oh, my God!” Jade screamed, and the call ended.

“I hope she wasn’t actually pushing.” Jesse grimaced, then turned to see the gooey look in Demetrios’ eyes. “Are you…broody?”

“No.” Demetrios stood.

“Oh, my God, you are!” Jesse grabbed Demetrios’ T-shirt and yanked him down to kiss him. “We can try for a baby later, if you like.”

“It doesn’t work.”

“I know. But the fun’s in trying. Because that phone call has made me thrilled I never have to do that.”

Demetrios tickled his neck. “Babá say he gonna come back?”

“He…wasn’t explicit about it.”

Demetrios rubbed his forehead, gazing out to where Yiannis hobbled off to. “It’s okay. We can go tomorrow, I guess.”

“No.” Jesse shook his head. “He’ll be back.”

Demetrios didn’t look so sure, but he flicked Jesse’s pad. “Finish it.”

“Yes, sir.”

Demetrios chuckled, then off he rushed to welcome in some more guests, holding out chairs on the decking for a group of four girls, late teens or early twenties at a guess, all equally stunning, all in bikinis and sarongs, all on their first holiday together ready to soak up sun, sea and sex. From his beach table, Jesse watched his boyfriend flirt. Watched him widen his smile to make all the girls swoon and flutter their eyelashes. Caught him laughing at something or other. Witnessed his blush and feign embarrassment at their overt flirtations. He then cocked his head as Demetrios flicked out the pencil from behind his ear, ready to write their order and alongside offer them a complimentary ouzo, “for my girls.”

The short-haired blond cupping her chin in her hand, gazing at him over her sunglasses, was the more brazen of the bunch, when she soon asked the question Jesse had heard so many times he could recite it without having to lip read from afar.

“Have you got a girlfriend?”

Demetrios breathed out a laugh as if it was the first time he’d been asked, then shook his head and pointed at Jesse. “I have a boyfriend.”

Jesse hadn’t heard the words, but Demetrios’ response had become the norm around here. Part of the package. Like the olives, flatbread and hummus, the smashing of plates during dinner, Demetrios being propositioned only for him to point out his entanglement to the pasty Brit on the sand was a firm staple on Aeglia Beach.

All four girls glanced his way. Jesse smiled, waved. Demetrios blew him a kiss. All four girls awwwwed.

They might not have got their holiday fling, but they still got their free ouzo.

Jesse got the man.

* * * *

Yiannis kept his promise, turning up only mildly intoxicated at five p.m., allowing Demetrios and Jesse the night off. They didn’t get many chances to go off somewhere together, but today was important. To Jesse, anyhow. So Yiannis took over the dinner service and Jesse cuddled up to his boyfriend on the back of his bike and rode out to their spot.

The secluded beach cove, despite not being where Freya was buried, seemed more fitting a place to pay their respects than at her graveside. Jesse wasn’t sure why, but he felt his mother more here, against the breeze, amongst the waves lapping over golden sand, within the froth spitting up the rock face, than he did the box buried six feet under Greek soil.

His flowers and picture were long gone, so Jesse replaced them on their visits. Always with another drawing and always with another bunch of pink roses to wash away and become part of the Aegean Sea. They’d then sit on the sand, often with Demetrios’ bag of goodies he’d swiped from the taverna, and ate as the sun dipped down before them. They’d upgraded from the phone to play music on a Bluetooth speaker, adding a calming backdrop to the sentiment that had become theirs together.

Jesse wiped his hands on his shorts, ridding them of the olive oil and sand particles, then hefted Demetrios up to dance along to the tracks they’d handpicked on their shared Spotify list. As track merged into track, and the sun made way for the moon with the scattering of solar lights dug into sand switching on to illuminate their serenade, Demetrios held him closer, swaying together beneath the stars.

“S’agapó,” he whispered like sweet romance into Jesse’s ear.

“I love you more,” Jesse said, because he did love Demetrios more.

Morethan he used to.

Morethan he thought he could.

Morethan he ever believed possible.

And because of that, he fell down on one knee, holding Demetrios’ hands, gazing up at him through the lenses of his glasses that swathed Demetrios in the glittering light his mother shone over him and said, “Will you marry me?”

Because it was legal in Greece now.

They could.

If they wanted to.

Demetrios’ hesitation had Jesse reeling. Until he grinned that beautiful smile. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“To be honest, neither did I.” Jesse dug into his pocket and produced the two handmade rings he’d found on the jewellery stall at the midday market. “I guess I just wanted Mum to know first.”

Demetrios pulled him up and kissed him, and they shared the bands that would let the world know they belonged together until the day they could speak the vows in the same church their parents’ had.

They packed up, climbing back up the rock face and onto the bike, riding in the darkness to the taverna as it was about to close. They meandered through the passageway to the beach, where one customer remained on the terrace, sipping on coffee.

Jesse halted, fingers entwining with Demetrios’ as he realised who it was Yiannis served.

“Dad?”

Richard twisted in his seat. “Jesse.” He scrambled to stand, humbly glancing from him to Demetrios, to their combined hands.

“What are you doing here?” Jesse hadn’t seen his dad since his decision to move. Too fearful to speak to him, he’d told him in a text message, asking Richard to leave him be if he couldn’t be happy for him. He didn’t want his dad to ruin this like he had the last eight years of his life. Richard needed counselling. Needed to move on. To forgive. Cope. And Jesse couldn’t stay behind and help him through it anymore. He had his own life to live.

When Richard hadn’t made contact, Jesse assumed he hadn’t been able to do any of that.

“I came to see you, son.”

Jesse glanced over Richard to Yiannis. He nodded, then scurried off inside to give them privacy. Demetrios went to let go of his hand, probably offering the same, but Jesse gripped him harder, keeping him there. Beside him.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“I thought you might tell me not to.”

“Why? Are you here to cause a scene again? Tell me this is fake?” Jesse lifted their hands. “Tell me he’s leading me on? Not real.”

“No.” Richard stood taller, and he looked different, as though he’d shed the weight from his shoulders. Cleaner, too. Not riddled with bitterness and drowning in alcohol. “I’m sorry. You were right. I wasn’t fair to you. I’ve done a lot of soul searching over these past few months, since your mother’s death, and I’ve had help with coming to terms with how my actions hurt you, and that’s the last thing I wanted.” He stepped forward, cupping Jesse’s cheek. “You’re all I have, Jesse. I can’t lose you like I did Freya. Both of which are my doing. I’m here to ask your forgiveness. To be part of your life again. If you’ll let me.”

Jesse’s eyes glazed, and he hung his head, holding onto Demetrios’ hand as if it would help keep him upright. “My life comes with him.” He angled his head to Demetrios. “And here.” He gestured at the taverna. “Greece.”

“I know.” Richard stepped back, hands sliding into his trouser pockets. “That’s why I’m here rather than calling you. To prove I can be here. I want to be here. I’m okay with being here.”

“And the drink?”

“Six months sober.”

Jesse peeked at Demetrios, and he smiled back at him. Allowing him to decide what to do, but would be there for him whatever that decision was.

“Okay.” Jesse inhaled the apprehension. “Okay.”

Richard’s jaw trembled, as if fighting back the need to cry. He then launched forward, and Jesse had to let go of Demetrios to hug his father. “Thank you,” he sniffled. “Thank you. I love you, Jellybean.”

Jesse stepped back, adjusting his glasses up his nose, the lump in his throat painful at hearing his mother’s nickname being said in his father’s voice. “Guess we should start with telling you…we just got engaged.”

Richard gasped, but it was Yiannis tumbling out of the taverna to the terrace causing most of the ruckus. Greek words, interchanged with some English Jesse couldn’t comprehend, were muttered between sobs before Yiannis hugged and kissed them both.

“Celebrations!” Yiannis threw up his hands. “I’ll get the ouzo!”

“Coffee for me,” Richard said, and Jesse couldn’t have been prouder.

When Yiannis returned, they took up a table on the terrace, drinking to the happy couple. But once the celebrations had died down, they began to talk.

All four of them.

About Freya.

About Jesse and Demetrios. About Greece. Naxos and everything and anything they could to keep the conversation flowing.

Demetrios wrapped his arm around Jesse, and he snuggled in closer, safe and warm, now belonging to a strange family where he was about to marry his stepbrother with his dad and stepdad there as witnesses, giving their blessings.

Mum would be smiling.

Because Jesse was.

Jesse could now smile forever.

* * * *