had been handed down from an earlier generation. He could see nothing wrong with trying to build it into something bigger and better. To be ambitious didn’t make you dishonorable, but his father and brother weren’t risk takers and refused to change their ways.
There were times when he wondered if he really was his parents’ birth child. Except that his physical features and build proclaimed him a Manolis through and through.
By his midteens, Takis had feared that if he stayed on Crete, he would turn into his brother, who was a clone of the Manolis men before him, each having so little to show for all their hard work. More and more his ideas clashed with his father’s over how to bring in more clients and build another couple of floors on the hotel.
Takis had worked out all his ideas in detail. One day he’d approached his father in all seriousness, wanting to talk to him man-to-man. But when he made his proposals, his father said something that stopped him cold.
Your ideas do you credit, my son, but they don’t reflect my vision for our family business. One day you’ll be a man and you’ll understand.
Understand what?
Pierced by his father’s comment, Takis took it to mean his ideas weren’t good enough and never would be, even when he became a man.
At that moment something snapped inside Takis. He determined to go to college despite what his mother had said.
So he bought a secondhand bike and after helping his father during the week on a regular basis, he rode the few kilometers to his second job at the famous Rodino hotel and resort in Heraklion on weekends to earn extra money. The manager was soon impressed with Takis’s drive. In time he introduced him to the owner of the hotel, Nassos Rodino, who had several talks with Takis about his financial situation.
One day the unimaginable had happened. Kyrie Rodino called him to his office and helped him apply for a work visa and permit to travel to New York. His best friend, Kristos Theron, the owner of a successful hotel in New York City, would let Takis work for him. He could make a lot more money there and go to the kind of college that would help him get ahead in the business world. He’d improve his English too.
Takis couldn’t believe anyone would do something so fantastic for him and returned home to tell his parents about the opportunity.
His mother kept quiet. As for his father, he listened and nodded. If this is what you want to do, then you must do it.
But how do you feel about it, Baba? Takis had still wanted his father’s approval.
His father shrugged his shoulders. Does it matter? You’re eighteen years old now and are in charge of your own destiny. At eighteen a man can leave his father and make his own way.
That isn’t the answer I was hoping for. His father hadn’t given him his blessing and probably resented Nassos Rodino for making any of this possible.
If you’re a man, then you don’t need an answer.
Takis had felt rebuked. His mother remained silent as he left the room with a hurt too deep to express. After the talk with his father, he’d had the feeling his parent had already felt abandoned before he’d even approached him.
Combined with the pain of having recently lost his girlfriend, who’d been killed in a bus accident, he finally made the decision to leave home. She’d been the one he could confide in about his dreams.
After all their talks, she’d known he’d been afraid to leave his family in case they thought he was letting them down. But she’d encouraged him and told him to spread his wings. They’d talked about her joining him in New York at a later date.
With her gone, he’d had no one who understood everything going on inside him. Her compassion had made her such an exceptional person, and he’d never found that incredible quality in the women he’d met since leaving Crete.
In the end, he’d made the decision to go after the opportunity that would enrich his life and he vowed, one day, that he would return and help his family in every capacity possible.
That was a long time ago.
On this cool March day, he held in the tears as he embraced his mother one more time. On this trip he noticed she’d aged and hadn’t exhibited her usual energy. That troubled him. “I promise I’ll be back soon.”
“Why don’t you come home to live? You can afford it. We miss you so much.” Her tears tugged at his heart.
His father didn’t weep, but Takis detected a new sorrow in his eyes. Why was it there? Why didn’t his parent speak the words of love and acceptance he longed to hear?
“Do what you have to do.” Those were similar to the words he’d said to Takis before he’d left for New York eleven years ago. “Be safe, my son.”
But his father still hadn’t been the one to ask him to come home or tell him he’d like him to work at the hotel with the family again. Had Takis done irreparable damage to their relationship?
“You too, Baba.” His throat had swollen with emotion. “Stay well.”
He turned to his mother once more. Was the sorrow he’d seen in his father’s eyes over concern for his wife? Was there something wrong with her? With his father? Something no one in the family was telling him?
This visit had troubled him with thoughts he didn’t want to entertain. He hugged everyone and kissed his nieces and nephews. Then he climbed into the taxi in front of the family-owned hotel that needed refurbishing. Heaven knew it needed everything. They needed everything.
His eyes clung to his mother’s once more. Had she been trying to tell him something? He blew her a kiss.
The flight to Athens would be leaving from Heraklion airport in four hours. First he would attend the funeral services for Nassos Rodino at the Greek Orthodox church in the heart of Heraklion. The recently divorced hotel owner, rumored to have a mistress, had suffered a stroke in the prime of his life—a stroke that had preceded his death. This had shocked Takis, who’d met with the man, who had given him so much, on his yacht to talk business when Takis had last come to Crete.
Most important to Takis was that he owed the hotelier a debt that bordered on love. His gratitude to the older man knew no bounds.
In truth he couldn’t think of another successful man who would have gone to such lengths to give Takis the chance to better himself, even to go as far as sponsoring him in the United States.
Once the funeral was over, he’d fly to Athens. From there he’d take another flight to Milan, Italy, where he was part owner, and manager of the five-star Castello Supremo Hotel and Ristorante di Lombardi.
But all the way to the church his mother’s words rang in his ears. Why don’t you come home to live. You can afford it. His mother had never been so outspoken in her thoughts before.
Yes, he could afford it. In the eleven years he’d been away, he’d made millions while his family continued to eke out their existence.
Was she telling him something without coming right out and saying it? Was she ill? Or his father? Death with dignity? Never saying a word? Damn that pride of theirs if it was true!
Neither Kori nor Lukios had said anything, but maybe his siblings had been kept in the dark. Then again maybe nothing was wrong and his mother, who was getting older, was simply letting him know how much they’d missed him.
He missed them too. Of course he’d come back in an instant if they needed him. But to come home for good? Even if his two business partners were in agreement and bought him out—even if he sold his hotel chain in New York, would his father allow him to work alongside him? What if he refused Takis’s help? What would Takis do for the rest of his life? Build a new hotel conglomerate on Crete?
His eyes closed tightly. He could never do that to his father and use the Manolis name. A son honored his father and showed him respect by never taking anything away from him.
Two years