Chapter 6: I Have Everything I Wanted

June 4, 1985, McKinley, Ohio

When we arrived home from the bank on Tuesday afternoon, I called Doctor Mercer to check on Angie.

“She’s extremely depressed,” Doctor Mercer said. “We haven’t changed her medication, but it’s very likely we’ll have to if she doesn’t improve in the next few days.”

“Wonderful,” I sighed.

“Mike, think positively,” Doctor Mercer said firmly. “She didn’t have a psychotic break. She cried and she’s depressed, but she’s not exhibiting any signs of a schizophrenic incident.”

“That’s a hell of a ‘think positive’ thing.”

“Even if this means she’s able to deal with the situation and it indicates that she’s possibly in the twenty percent who will function?”

“When you put it that way...”

“There is no other way to put it. I know you keep hoping for some miracle, but until that happens, we have to deal with the here and now.”

“I know,” I replied dejectedly.

“Intellectually, yes, but your heart aches for her.”

“Of course it does!” I said testily. “You know that!”

“Relax, Mike,” Doctor Mercer said gently.

I took a couple of deep breaths and let each of them out slowly.

“Sorry,” I said sheepishly.

“Perhaps you and Job should have a word about shaking one’s fist at G-d,” she said.

“Or Jonah,” I replied. “I doubt I’m worthy of a bet between Satan and God, but I can sure see God trying to point out that I’m not handling this in a properly Christian manner the way he did with Jonah.”

“You’re handling it in a human manner,” Doctor Mercer said. “It would take a soulless person to not be affected by a loved one with a mental illness.”

“You’re right,” I agreed.

“Changing to a happier subject, I really liked your rendition of Lara’s Theme on the balalaika!”

“Thanks.”

“And Elizaveta and you singing Up Where We Belong had me in tears! That NEVER happens!”

“It was pretty moving for us, too.”

“How did things go afterwards?”

“Besides me being a complete idiot?” I asked.

I heard a barely audible groan.

“What happened.”

“What you would expect to happen when a naïve sixteen-year-old virgin sees her first erect penis and it’s two standard deviations larger than average.”

Doctor Mercer started laughing but quickly caught herself.

“Did you SERIOUSLY just say that?”

“You asked,” I replied flatly.

“I assume you worked through the situation.”

“Yes, but I wasn’t as attuned to her nervousness as I should have been. She was also virgo intacta, and bled a bit.”

“I hope you weren’t foolish about that.”

“I wasn’t. And now, ten days later, she’s a certified sex maniac!”

Doctor Mercer laughed again, “You are such a...”

“Go on,” I chuckled.

“No, even though this isn’t counseling, I can’t ethically call you a Grade-A Idiot again.”

“You just did.”

“True,” she laughed. “Now, in all seriousness.”

“In all seriousness, everything is very, very good in that area. We took it slow, did other things besides intercourse, and she got comfortable with my body and hers. The sex is awesome and she has a very healthy sex drive! Beyond that, we did have a bit of an invasion of privacy issue with her mom and/or her grandmothers.”

“Why am I not surprised,” Doctor Mercer said, and I could almost hear her shaking her head through the phone.

“I got my father-in-law to change the locks on the cottage and only Elizaveta and I have keys; well, Clarissa has the emergency spare. Elizaveta is pissed, and her mom is pissed because Elizaveta won’t discuss the situation without me present.”

“What’s your father-in-law’s take?”

“He’s on our side, but trying to stay out of the blast radius when this blows up, which it will. Elizaveta is taking a hard line because she knows if she doesn’t, this kind of crap will go on forever.”

“What happened?”

“Elizaveta was concerned about blood on our new sheets, so she spread a large white sheet over the bed. It had the appropriate proof of her virginity, if you go by that old-fashioned BS. The next morning, we went to get our marriage certificate so we could go to the BMV and bank, as well as have it for Europe, and someone came into the house and made the bed, and removed the sheet.”

“To use your word, ‘wonderful’.”

“Exactly. I have no idea what happened to the sheet, but there was one positive thing which came out of the situation - Elizaveta’s parents, especially her mom, thought we’d cheated, if you will. She knows better now, I’m sure.”

“Your father-in-law’s life is going to be a bit uncomfortable.”

“Actually, not really, because at the end of July, it’ll be Matushka Elizaveta for real and if her mom or grandmothers cause real trouble, the bishop will hear about it, as will Father Nicholas. And I’m backing Elizaveta to the hilt. Her dad didn’t blink when I asked to have the locks changed, by the way, except to say he hadn’t been aware of the transgression and that he disapproved of it.”

“Just be careful, Mike.”

“I know. But we have alternatives if things go to hell. We could move in with Doctor Blahnik and I can borrow what I need for medical school. The golden handcuffs have a flaw which allows me to remove them at the cost of repaying loans once I become a Doctor.”

“If I can help, let me know.”

“I think I can pretty much guarantee I’ll need your help in the future. Anyway, back to the original reason for my call - is there anything I need to do?”

“Not right now. At some point, I think we’ll have you visit her, but not before you go to Europe. Maybe we’ll get her to your ordination, but we’ll have to see.”

“OK. Thanks, Doctor Mercer.”

“You’re welcome.”

We said ‘goodbye and I hung up, then immediately dialed the hospital at Ohio State and asked for Jocelyn’s room.

“Hi, Jos,” I said when she answered.

“Hi, Mik!”

“Feeling better?”

“Fuck no!” she growled.

“Jocelyn Theresa Mills!” I heard her mom reprimand her.

“Stuff it, Mom!” Jocelyn growled, then said to me, “It hurts like hell when I get close to the time for my next dose of painkillers. Like now!”

“What do they say about you going home?”

“Thursday morning. I have half a mind to have Gene take me home to his parents’ house.”

“You will not!“ her mom exclaimed.

“Sorry, Jos,” I said. “Is Gene there?”

“Getting coffee. He’s been here around the clock. They actually put a rollaway bed in my room so he can stay with me.”

“I bet THAT went over well with the Wicked Witch of the West!”

Jocelyn laughed but then groaned, “It hurts when I laugh, but you’re right.”

“Sorry.”

“Come see me Thursday afternoon?”

“Sure. We’re having lunch with Tasha and Clarissa. Tasha will have to go back to work, but I can bring Lissa if you want.”

“Defense in depth!” Jocelyn declared. “So yes, please, bring her.”

“See you Thursday afternoon,” I said. “If anything changes, have Gene call me.”

“Will do. Thanks for calling, Mik. Love ya!”

“Love ya, too!” I said.

We said ‘goodbye’ and I hung up, then went outside to where Elizaveta was sitting on the bench in the garden.

“Thanks for the privacy,” I said.

Elizaveta smirked, “Did you tell Doctor Mercer how good I am at fucking?”

I laughed, “Not quite in those words, but she got the drift.”

“I’m happy to show you now, in case you’ve forgotten. I mean, if you’re interested!”

“Always!”

Five minutes later, we were naked in bed, and she was proving it.

June 5, 1985, McKinley, Ohio

“Ugh!” Elizaveta groused when we woke on Tuesday morning.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“My period started last night and it looks like a ‘heavy’ month. I leaked. We need to get out of bed so I can pre-treat and wash the sheets so they don’t stain.”

“How did you prevent that in the past?”

“I usually wore a nightgown which protected the sheets pretty well. But I don’t want to do that! I like sleeping naked next to you. I think I’ll get a really soft towel to put under me.”

“What did you mean ‘heavy’ month?”

“I can predict my period to within a day, but sometimes there’s a lot more blood on some days rather than others. Usually it’s like the second day. I wonder if all the sex last night caused it.”

“No clue,” I said. “Ask me in four years, but even then, I’m not going to be an OB/GYN!”

“The only pussy you are supposed to look at is MINE!” she said fiercely as we got out of bed.

“That will always be true,” I said. “For anyone else it’s labia, vagina, mons pubis, or whatever, and I don’t think I’ll see too many except for during my one OB/GYN rotation.”

“Help me strip the sheets, please.”

I did, though I withheld a comment about her asking me to help with domestic work. When we had removed the sheets and pillowcases from the bed, Elizaveta bundled them into a laundry basket.

“I need a shower,” she said.

“Let me help. I’ll wash you.”

“You don’t find it gross?”

“I find the alternative to you having periods is being pregnant or not being able to have children. I’ll deal with you having periods, thanks.”

Elizaveta laughed, “Spoken as only a boy could! What about the cramps and stuff?”

“Those are all yours!” I teased. “Sometimes it’s good to be a ‘boy’!”

“Careful, husband! There are belts in the closet!”

“Oooh, fun!” I teased.

Elizaveta huffed and rolled her eyes, “You’re going to be impossibly goofy, aren’t you?”

“Yes. Let’s go shower so I can wash that blood away. I’m curious, are the panties ruined?”

“They might stain, but I have pairs I wear just for bed so I don’t ruin any nice ones.”

“I like all your panties, but I like you better without them!”

“Get in the shower, you ... idiot!”

I laughed because I was frustrating her, but in a fun way. I went to the bathroom and turned on the shower and adjusted the water temperature. Elizaveta took off her panties revealing a blood-soaked pad, and small streaks of blood on the inside of her upper thighs. Far from being gross, it was fascinating, as I was seeing firsthand how her body worked, albeit as an external observer. I helped her into the shower, got her soap, and began washing her body, making sure I washed away her menstrual blood. I noticed a small amount returned after I washed her, which made sense, as she was going to be ‘bleeding’ for three or four days.

Elizaveta got my soap, lathered her hands, then grasped my flaccid penis and scrotum.

“Now, shall we talk about how you treat me when I have my period?” she asked, squeezing slightly.

I chuckled, “I think I prefer the belts!”

“Argh!” she growled, squeezing just enough to make me feel it, but not TOO hard.

“Maybe I’ll rethink my position! Or not, because if you damage him, then he can’t come out to play!”

“You are a smart ass, husband!”

“Thank you!”

She released me and washed me, and after we rinsed off, Elizaveta took a washcloth, got it wet, and put it between her legs.

“This is how I keep from getting messy until I can put on panties with a heavy-duty pad.”

I shut off the water and we got out of the tub. I dried Elizaveta and then myself while she held the washcloth against her labia. Once we were dry, I got her a clean pair of panties from her dresser and then put in a pad from a box under the sink that was marked ‘Heavy days’ in small print that I suspected every woman could see and to which no man would pay any attention. I watched as she went through some minor contortions to get her panties, with the pad attached, on without leaking blood anywhere.

“Fascinating,” I said, once she had them on.

“Well, Mr. Spock, if you only want sex once every seven years...”

I laughed, “Vulcans can have sex any time; they just HAVE to have it during pan far or they’ll die. Well, they can also fight ritual combat, too. I’m not sure which is worse.”

“You!” Elizaveta screeched.

“Let’s get dressed so we can have breakfast and get the laundry started,” I replied with a silly smile.

“Just wait, husband! I’ll find a way to get you!”

“Oooh, I hope so!” I said raising both eyebrows.

“Argh!” my wife groaned.

We went to the bedroom, got dressed, and then Elizaveta said it would be better to pre-treat the sheets immediately, and get them in the washer, so I collected the basket with the sheets, added her panties and the washcloth, and we went over to the main house. I was happy we didn’t run into my mother-in-law, and Elizaveta got the spray bottle and pre-treated the sheet, washcloth, and her panties, and then put everything into the washing machine. She added soap, set the controls, and we went back to the cottage to have breakfast.

I didn’t object when Elizaveta told me to sit. I’d already won the point of cleaning up together and I wanted to solidify that gain before I pushed further. I knew that, in a few years, my time would be severely limited, but I wanted to set the groundwork for the rest of our lives - that everything was a collaboration, from making babies, to raising them, to laundry, dishes, and housekeeping. We would also have the shared ministry at church, though our roles in that ministry would be quite different.

“What do you want to do today?” I asked. “Actually, I should probably ask if you feel like doing anything.”

“I’m not feeling cramps or anything; I’m fine. And I didn’t have anything special in mind. Sex would be kind of messy today.”

“How about mini golf? Then come back here for lunch. I’d like to see the new James Bond movie, A View to a Kill. We could go to a matinée, then come home for dinner and spend a quiet evening together.”

“I wish we could see The Breakfast Club but it’s not playing at the Cineplex now!”

“True, but if it’s released like other movies, it should be on VHS next year. That’s WAY better than waiting five years, or more, for an edited and censored version to come on TV! And you know it will be ‘Edited for Television’ because it was rated ‘R’, if only because of the Seven Words You Can Never Say on Television.”

“You say that like I should know what that means.”

And my pussy cat was about to find out about my secret guilty pleasure. Her reaction would be interesting, but given she’d started using the word ‘fuck’ for our athletic sexual activity, I didn’t think she’d flip out.

“That’s a routine by a comedian named George Carlin where he makes fun of the words you can’t say on TV. I have it on a tape of the album ‘Class Clown’.”

“What are the words?”

I chuckled, “Are you sure?”

“Yes!”

“‘Shit, piss, fuck, cunt, cocksucker, motherfucker, and tits.”

Elizaveta blushed, but then laughed, “Wow. But ‘tits’? I hear that all the time at school! Guys use that all the time when they’re talking about girls! I mean, it’s rude, but it’s not like,” she giggled, “‘cocksucker’!”

“And yet, I’m sure he’s right. He was actually arrested for doing the routine in Milwaukee; I think that was about fifteen years ago.”

“Wait! The Constitution says ‘Free Speech’! How?”

“You’re right, but he was arrested anyway. It wasn’t until, I think 1978, when the courts said there were limits on how the government could control speech that was indecent. That’s basically why some shows are shown outside of ‘prime time’. Soap Operas get away with a lot more than you could between 7:00pm and 10:00pm on TV. I think, but I’m not sure, that it’s only an agreement amongst the networks. Anyway, what happened was a radio station played the routine during the afternoon and some parent complained to the government because his fifteen-year-old son heard the broadcast.”

“Oh, right, because his son hadn’t heard all those words in school? I have, and I don’t even hang out with the jocks or burnouts!”

I chuckled, “I know. It’s silly. What happened was the government told the radio station if they played it again, they might be fined or maybe even lose their license. The radio station sued and won. So, basically, ‘indecent’ material can be played from 10:00pm until 6:00am. But as I said, the envelope gets pushed by Days of our Lives and General Hospital, not by Eight is Enough.”

“You have this tape?”

“Yes. It’s really funny, but I bought it on tape so I could keep it in my car. Which means, actually, I have to get it from Clarissa because it’s in my old car.”

“You kept it there so your mom wouldn’t know, right?”

“Yes. I also had Steve Martin’s tape A Wild and Crazy Guy. It has a funny song, King Tut, along with other comedy routines.”

“And one of them is like the ‘seven words’ one?”

I chuckled, “In some ways, worse.”

“Go on,” Elizaveta said mirthfully.

“The entire point of the routine is to get the audience to think about dirty meanings where words have both ‘clean’ and ‘dirty’ meanings. And then he drops the punchline which makes the audience basically roll in the aisles laughing.”

“And...” she said expectantly.

I modulated my voice to sound similar to Steve Martin.

‘I went to this girl’s apartment and she had the best pussy I have ever... ‘.

“The audience goes crazy. So he continues...”

‘Oh now come on! I’m talking about her cat! That makes me sick! You can’t say anything anymore without people taking it dirty. I’m sorry, that disgusts me!‘

“He pauses for a few seconds, then says, completely deadpan...”

‘Incidentally, that cat was the best fuck I ever had.‘

Elizaveta gasped and covered her mouth, but then her eyes narrowed, “Is THAT why you call me pussy cat?”

I couldn’t help but laugh, and Elizaveta put her hands on her hips, giving me ‘the look’.

“I don’t, but Clarissa does,” I said, nearly in tears from laughing so hard.

“What?!” Elizaveta screeched in outrage.

“Relax, Kitten,” I said, purposefully using English. “She was enjoying teasing me because I was being celibate, and she knew what we’d do on our honeymoon! It was good-natured teasing!”

Elizaveta visibly relaxed, “It’s just rude.”

I nodded, “But not nearly as rude as two albums you put on the shelf next to the stereo! We’ll need to move them before we have guests.”

“Which?”

“Joe’s Garage by Frank Zappa. If you thought what I just told you about George Carlin or Steve Martin was rude, Frank Zappa is downright offensive!”

“So why buy his albums?”

“Because I believe in Free Speech! And to be honest, because Frank Zappa is a musical genius. I have every one of his albums. If I had to give up my entire collection except for one artist, I’d keep his stuff. Queen would be second. Third gets dicier, but I’d lean towards Prince over the Beatles, but that’s a REALLY difficult call. But we live in the USA so I don’t have to make those choices, and I can support someone I think is an absolute genius without the secret police coming to my door because I’m listening to subversive music. That said, I don’t want to offend anyone from church, so some of the albums will be in our bedroom or the smaller bedroom.”