Chapter 37: Gossip

August 27, 1985, McKinley, Ohio

On Tuesday morning, while Elizaveta and I were eating breakfast, the phone rang. I got up to answer it.

“Good morning, Deacon.”

“Good morning, Father.”

“You sure stepped in it this time, Mike!” Father Nicholas said with a rueful laugh.

“No kidding,” I replied.

“I take it we won’t have a similar incident in the future?”

“We won’t.”

“Would you be able to see His Grace on Saturday at 2:00pm? That would get you back in time for Vespers.”

“Yes.”

“Please bring Elizaveta with you. He specifically requested you do so.”

“I will.”

“How did she react to the discipline from His Grace?”

“Properly. We’re fine, Father. We screwed up, admitted it, and took our medicine.”

“As you should. It takes a lot for the bishop to suspend someone, but it has happened.”

Something clicked in my mind.

“A priest making a sudden month-long retreat to the monastery?”

“I wondered if you’d heard about that and what you thought. And I know you heard about the priest in Kentucky who was laicized last Spring.”

“Yes. But what I thought is immaterial. The bishop is in charge.”

“Then that’s all I need to say. How was your first day of medical school?”

“Mostly a history lesson along with a session on exactly what doctors do. Mostly stuff I knew, but it’s all about setting the stage. Today they’ll talk about specialties, with an eye towards letting us know who the right person will be to go to with questions, both while in medical school and when we’re Residents. Tomorrow is First Aid training, and then Thursday and Friday are about actually being a doctor from every aspect.”

“Interesting. It sounds very much like the first few days at seminary when they described what it means to be a priest and how liturgics is really only a small part of it, though it’s the part that most people associate with being a priest.”

“That makes sense. People outside often have a very warped view of what it’s like on the inside.”

“True. And speaking of liturgics, I reviewed your outline for the Young Adult Sunday School, and it’s fine.”

“And the permission to invite everyone to stand on the solea?”

“Granted. Like you, I have no specific concern with allowing women in the altar for instructional purposes, but the bishop is adamant about it because there are people who would be highly offended.”

“Nuns go into the altar,” I replied. “And the abbess sits in a position similar to the bishop!”

“I know that, Deacon! But we’re not in a monastery and you know His Grace has to be cognizant of how the laity would respond.”

“Yes, of course,” I replied, then switched to a faux Russian accent, “I serve the Orthodox Church!”

Father Nicholas laughed, “There are plenty of folks in ROCOR who think we’re all Soviet agents.”

“I dare anyone to say that to my grandfather and his friends!”

“Oh, there are some who would. It’s a silly thing, obviously, but there are collaborators in Russia.”

“Sadly.”

“I’ll let you go. I’m sure the two of you are getting ready for school.”

We said ‘goodbye’ and I sat down to finish my breakfast.

“Saturday, after dinner with your parents, we’re expected at the chancery.”

“About your parents, right?”

“I believe so, but bishops tend to keep their own counsel until the very last moment.”

“What is it you’re going to learn in class tomorrow?”

“Basically what’s in the Red Cross First Aid book. We can’t see patients until we complete that part of the course.”

“But you said you can’t touch them.”

“And I am sure in an emergency, breathing and having a pair of hands would result in being asked to do some simple things, not all that different from what I did in fourth grade.”

We finished breakfast, cleaned up, and then I walked Elizaveta out to her car. I kissed her ‘goodbye’, watched her drive off, and went back into the cottage. I had about an hour before I had to leave, so I sat down with a cup of tea and the book I’d purchased on the history of medicine and began to read. When my time was up, I put the book away, took the empty teacup to the kitchen, and headed to school.

At our first break, I asked Clarissa to get me a cup of coffee and went to the payphone to call my dad.

“Good morning, Mrs. Vogel. It’s Mike Loucks. I’m looking for my dad.”

“Hi, Mike! He’s out this morning. He told me how proud he was to see you on Friday in your medical coat. I was very happy to hear how well things are going for you. Congratulations on your marriage!”

“Thank you. Do you know when my dad will be back?”

“I believe he’s out for the rest of the morning. Should I have him call you?”

“I’m at school,” I replied. “Just ask him to call me tonight, please.”

“I’ll leave a message on his desk!”

“Thanks,” I replied.

We said ‘goodbye’ and hung up. I wasn’t holding my breath for a return call, but I hoped it would happen.

It didn’t.

August 29, 1985, McKinley, Ohio

On Thursday, after school, Elizaveta and I went into McKinley to have dinner with Jocelyn and Gene at our favorite Chinese restaurant.

“I received my LSAT scores today,” Jocelyn said after we sat down.

“And?” I asked expectantly.

“44 where 48 is the maximum. That works out to about the 95th percentile. With my grades, I can get into any school.”

“Something you complicated by your impetuous rush to the altar!” I teased.

Jocelyn and Gene both laughed.

“She told me about your talk and her telling you that you were crazy!” Gene laughed.

“You and I were both proposed to by determined women!” I replied. “We were goners!”

“You’ll be a goner if you aren’t careful, husband!” Elizabeth declared mirthfully.

“What’s your plan, Jos?” I asked, ignoring my wife. “Still UC or Ohio State?”

“Ohio State has to be first now, and Gene will transfer to the physics program there. It’s the only thing that really makes sense. The timing is good, as he’ll have just finished his second year.”

“That does make sense. Fortunately, it’s not too far away.”

“You aren’t getting rid of me that easily!” Jocelyn said with a smile. “Did you get in any trouble for dancing with me?”

Telling her what had happened would upset and depress her, and there really was no need to share with her and ruin her memory of her wedding.

“Not really. I spoke to the bishop about it and it’s taken care of. Did Clarissa tell you about my parents?”

“I don’t believe it!” she replied, shaking her head. “There’s no chance they’ll reconcile?”

“I can’t see it given what’s happened, though I take a bit of solace in the fact that my mom and Liz have buried the hatchet and it’s not in each other’s backs.”

“Or yours.”

“Honestly, my mom wasn’t the problem. Think of the horrible dilemma she faced - trying to keep her marriage together and trying to fix her relationship with my sister, whose own marriage was the source of the problem. My dad solved the problem for her, though not in a good way.”

“Is your mom still at your grandparents’ house?”

“Yes. My grandfather advised her to force my dad to sell the house to get her equity as part of the divorce settlement. It makes sense, I guess.”

“Ugly.”

“I know. Grandfather Michael is so angry he’s spitting nails. Fortunately for my dad, the Borodin men are pacifists.”

“I feel bad for you, Mik.”

“Thanks, Jos. So, how is married life treating you?”

“All one week of it?” she asked, laughing softly. “Well, at least my mom can’t bitch about us sleeping in my room when we visit! How is medical school treating you?”

“This week has been the equivalent of an introduction to medicine. Except for yesterday, which was First Aid certification, it’s all been informational. Tomorrow is small group discussions which will determine if we pass or fail this first block.”

“Medical school is Pass/Fail?” Gene asked.

“The first two years. The point, according to what they told us, is to reduce the stress of worrying about grades.”

“Fail!” Elizaveta declared.

“What?” I asked.

“They also award ‘Honors’, and I know you well enough after a year to know you will be disappointed in yourself if you don’t get ‘Honors’ in every class.”

“She knows you too well!” Jocelyn replied.

“Says the woman, who despite having mono, had a higher GPA than I did!”

“I bet Clarissa agrees with us,” Jocelyn said.

“Perhaps,” I replied.

The waitress came to take our orders, bringing with her a pot of green tea. Two minutes later she brought our hot and sour soup, and not long after that, our main courses and a large bowl of rice. We all dug in and when we finished, we agreed to meet after Vespers at Taft so we could take in a showing of Teen Wolf, starring Michael J. Fox.

“I have to say I like the idea of not having a curfew!” Elizaveta declared as we headed to Taft to meet Mark and Alyssa.

We found them, with several of our friends, waiting in the room where Father Nicholas would conduct Vespers. I was happy to see three other students there as well. I greeted Sophia, Robby, Lee, José, Dona, Lara, and Jack. A minute later, Father Nicholas arrived, and I asked for his blessing.

“I wasn’t expecting you, Deacon,” he said.

“Thursday nights are open, and Elizaveta and I felt coming to the inaugural Vespers here was important.”

“Do you have your orar?”

“In my car.”

“Then please, by all means, let’s serve together.”

“Let me check with the boss,” I replied.

Father Nicholas laughed, “If she wants to worship together, please do that. You won’t have too many opportunities. Mark can assist.”

I checked with Elizaveta, and she requested we worship together, so I let Father Nicholas know. I did help him set up, then took my place by my wife for the Vespers service. When it finished, Father Nicholas and I greeted the students we didn’t know. A couple more had come in just as the service started, so there were a total of five, three of whom were Freshmen and two who were Sophomores. After speaking with them, Mark, Alyssa, Elizaveta, and I all asked Father’s blessing then left to join Jocelyn and Gene at the theater to see Teen Wolf.

August 30, 1985, McKinley and Rutherford, Ohio

The small group sessions on Friday were interesting, though I was disappointed that none of the rest of my group was in either the morning or afternoon session with me, as we’d all been randomly assigned. We compared notes at lunch, and our experiences were similar. The one plus was that I met some new people, and I received a few invitations to join study groups which I had to decline. I also had some questions about my cassock for which I gave what had become a standard answer similar to what I’d said to Tim Saddler during the debate I’d had with him. At the end of the day, I was confident I’d participated enough in both groups to pass the introductory course.

When I arrived home, I found a very unhappy Elizaveta.

“Uh-oh,” I said, seeing the look on her face as I hung my ryassa by the door. “Your mom?”

“No! Denise!”

“Who?” I asked after giving her a quick kiss.

“The new head cheerleader! She started a rumor that I had to get married!”

“Uhm, I’m not exactly an expert,” I replied, “but it’s been five months from when we got our license, so according to the one class I took on reproductive physiology you’d be showing by now, at least a bit.”

“Serafima pointed that out, so THEN Denise asked if I’d had an abortion! As if I’d ever do that!”

“Ignore her, Kitten,” I soothed. “It’ll be quite obvious in a month or two that you’re not pregnant. And you can easily refute the abortion claim - if you had one, then why did you ‘have’ to get married?”

“I can’t believe that ... that ... bitch said either of those things!” Elizaveta fumed.

“Do any of your friends believe her?” I asked.

“No, of course not.”

“Then just ignore her. You know you were a virgin on our wedding night, and that’s all that matters. Let her tell whatever stories she wants about us ‘having’ to get married.”

“And the abortion?”

“Do you think anyone you care about would believe that rumor?”

“No.”

“Then I’d say don’t worry about it.”

“And my reputation?” Elizaveta asked, hands on her hips.

“Tell me what you think you could accomplish with anything more than a simple denial if someone asks.”

“But it’s not fair!”

“No, it’s not.”

“Everyone KNOWS she’s a slut!”

“Really now,” I chuckled. “They all saw her having sex with different guys?”

“It’s common knowledge!”

“You mean like you having to get married?” I asked.

“What?!”

“Remember our conversation about gossip? Well, that’s what you just did. I mean, unless you’ve been hiding some voyeuristic tendencies I’m not aware of!”

“Gross! Who would want to watch that?”

“People pay to see pornographic movies,” I replied.

“Gross!”

“So, ignore this Denise person and don’t worry about what she says. And more importantly, don’t repeat gossip about her if you don’t want her to gossip about you.”

“But she won’t stop just because I do!” Elizaveta protested.

“I’m sure she won’t, but in the end, your reputation will be enhanced when she’s proven to be a liar.”

“I don’t like it!”

“I didn’t say you should, but what’s the point of getting into a verbal fight with her? Can you gain anything?”

“No,” Elizaveta admitted with a frustrated sigh.

“And is it becoming a Matushka to lower herself to the level of a stuck-up, self-centered, jealous cheerleader?” I asked with a grin.

“No,” Elizaveta smirked.

“So, let her be jealous that YOU get to have sex and don’t have to hide it!” I chuckled. “Shall we go meet Paul, Liz, and my mom for dinner?”

“I just need to change. Do you mind if I wear jeans and a blouse?”

“I like how you look in jeans! Especially that faded pair that fits like they’re painted onto your sexy butt!”

“I was wondering about that pair after what Vladyka said about your cassock.”

“YOU aren’t under his discipline the way I am, Kitten. And your blouses are all modest. A pair of tight jeans is not going to cause trouble. They aren’t appropriate for church, but you’d never wear them to church anyway.”

“I wore skirts or dresses to school all week.”

“Which is your choice. Basically, unless you plan to wear low-cut tops, or dresses which show a lot of cleavage, or ripped jeans, or short-shorts I don’t have any concerns. And you don’t own anything like that.”

“I need ten minutes. OK?”

“Obviously!”

She went into the bedroom, and was back ten minutes later looking absolutely adorable in faded jeans and a cute red blouse. I donned my ryassa once again and we headed out to my Mustang for the drive to Rutherford.

“What are you going to do about your dad?” Elizaveta asked as I pulled out of the driveway.

I shrugged, “I have no idea. I left a second message, implying that I needed to speak to him again, but any more and Mrs. Vogel is going to wonder what’s going on. I don’t mean she suspects anything with Holly and my dad, but it’ll seem weird that I’m not calling him at home. I rarely call him at the office.”

“Aren’t court cases public?”

“Except for Family Court with regard to minors, I think so. The local paper doesn’t usually run reports on divorce filings unless there’s somebody the public cares about involved. But once my mom files the divorce petition, somebody at the courthouse will see it and the news will spread.”

“Will the, uhm, divorce petition, include Holly’s name?”

“I have no idea. That would be a question for an attorney. Melody would probably know, but she’s at Harvard Law School now. Jocelyn really hasn’t done anything other than taking her pre-law classes so far. I don’t even know if Holly’s name would come out in court unless my dad contests the divorce. And I have no idea what he’s thinking because he’s not speaking to anyone.”

“Is what Emmy said and the fact his car is at the apartment complex enough to prove adultery?”

“No clue, but it sure fits the pattern. I think it’s what they call circumstantial evidence, but I also think my mom could hire a private investigator as you see on TV or in the movies. I don’t know how much of what you see on TV is true, but it would make sense.”

“What if they never go out? You know, they just order in and, well, you know.”

“I guess he’d have to account for why he’s at her apartment all the time, and if they see him go in after work and not come out until morning, that’s a pretty strong indicator something inappropriate is happening. I mean, could there be an innocent explanation? I suppose so, but I can’t imagine what it would be.”

“Playing checkers?” Elizaveta smirked.

“Checkers?” I asked.

“You know, jumping her?”

I laughed hard and had to be sure to carefully steer the car so as not to run off the road.

“Cute, Kitten.”

“What if you wrote him a note and put it on his car? You know, under the wiper? Or maybe even mailed him a letter.”

“You know, I wonder if he’s getting the mail? I suspect he is, but then, what’s he doing with Mom’s mail? I’ll have to ask her, though perhaps she put in a change of address.”

“Maybe your grandfather is collecting it for her?”

“Possibly. But I think your idea of writing him a note or letter makes sense.”

When we arrived at Lou’s, my mom was seated in a booth, so we joined her, and I removed my ryassa, hanging it on a hook by the booth. About a minute later, Paul and Liz arrived, and the waitress came over right away, took our drink orders, and left us menus.

“Mom, I was wondering what you’re doing about your mail.”

“One of your grandparents picks it up each afternoon.”

“I take it Dad is getting his mail?”

“So it appears, as Mom and Dad say the box isn’t overflowing. And the newspaper isn’t in the driveway.”

“I’m going to write him a letter,” I said. “I tried calling him at work twice and he hasn’t called back.”

“He obviously doesn’t want to talk to any of us,” Liz said.

“I know, but I have to try. Mom, did you speak to the bishop?”

“Yes, yesterday evening for about an hour. He’s going to let me know after he speaks with Father Herman.”

And me, I thought, but I didn’t know if the bishop wanted me to reveal that or not.

“Are you going to wait to file for a civil divorce until you hear from him?” I asked.