Chapter 20: Two Dons

November 4, 1995, Milford, Ohio

“Good morning,” Doctor Mercer said when I arrived.

“Morning, Doc. How are you?”

“Good. And you?”

“Pretty good. As I said, I just felt the need for a check-up.”

“Well, have a seat.”

“I always wondered about using the chair versus the couch,” I said.

“It depends on the patient. You want to look me in the eyes and want me to be very direct. You don’t go for subtlety or carefully dancing around the issues. That annoys you as much as me being blunt would frighten most patients. You’re relaxed when you come here, well, relaxed enough to not need to lie down.”

“That makes sense,” I replied, nodding in agreement.

“So, where are you?” she asked, starting the session.

“I’ve had three dalliances in the past month or so. One of them is definitely on-going.”

Doctor Mercer shook her head and her lips curled into a wry smile, “After six months of good behavior?”

“You gave me the prescription, Doc. Two of them passed their inflection points long before the twins. The third developed over time and is continuing.”

“But the first two aren’t?”

“They don’t live close enough. Maybe I’ll see them again; maybe I won’t.”

“How do you feel?”

“Good, actually. I questioned my motives and actions for those first two, and I’m comfortable that they weren’t a sign of me getting out of control. Honestly, if it hadn’t been for the prior relationship, they would never have happened.”

“Good. Do you mind if we do a quick inventory of the rest of your life before we delve into your sexual shenanigans?”

I laughed, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you joke about it before.”

“There comes a time when that’s all you can do, even as a professional!”

“My mom would say I’ve corrupted you, too!’

“Your mom has no idea!” Doctor Mercer said firmly. “And neither do you. And it’s going to stay that way!”

“Way to convince me there’s a VERY interesting story there and then slam the door in my face!”

Doctor Mercer smiled, “Dual relationships are a VERY bad idea. Anyway, how are things with your parents?”

“With my dad, they’re fantastic. I’m having dinner with him and Joyce Tarrance, our Board Chairman, tonight. With my mom, I guess you’d call it a cease-fire. It’s not even at the level of an armistice. But I’ll take it. I think she finally decided the four moms were serious about cutting off access to the grandkids if my mom didn’t cut it out.”

“Because they WERE serious, and deadly so,” Doctor Mercer said. “When I spoke to them several years ago, it was as if they were speaking with one voice.”

“Because they were speaking with one voice!” I replied. “Jennifer, Jessica, Kara, and Elyse worked out the strategy and the language together. It worked because I had decided to be civil towards her, which is something Stephanie is unable to do.”

“I know this is a bit out of school, so to speak, but your sister blames your mom both for pushing you into an incestuous relationship AND for breaking up that incestuous relationship. Not to mention the outright hatred for how she treated the two of you.”

“I thought you stopped regular counseling with Stephanie.”

“I have. Except on that one topic, she’s as well-adjusted as she can be, given the circumstances. Most incest victims don’t recover as well as she did.”

“Ed was the key,” I said.

Doctor Mercer nodded, “Yes. You had a somewhat easier time, because you understood what you’d done wrong, and that helped you overcome being a victim.”

“You know I disagree with you on that. I don’t see myself as a victim.”

“And yet, you were. Of your mother, and to an extent, of your sister. But also of yourself. And the recognition of that last one - that you were a victim of your own actions, was YOUR key to recovery. You weren’t a rapist, Steve. Yes, the law might say otherwise, but you weren’t. Not in your mind. Not in her mind. And those are the ONLY two minds that matter from a counseling perspective. In fact, she blamed herself for raping you.”

“I hope you disabused her of that idea.”

“It took some time, but yes, I did. How is your relationship with her?”

“I’d say it’s developing nicely. I see her and Ed on Sundays at dinner, and we have business dealings because she works for Samantha. You know we still plan to have her become CEO of NIKA in a few years.”

“That concerned me very much in the past, but I think the two of you are making very good progress. You just need to be very careful about intimate situations. I know you know what I mean by that, too.”

I nodded, “Working very closely together, and spending time together without a third person around.”

“Just watch yourself, Steve. If you feel uncomfortable in ANY way, just have someone else join those meetings. I think you have an assistant who handles most of your routine work for you?”

“Yes; that’s Kimmy.”

“She’s probably a good person to have around. Or Elyse. Neither of them would offend your sister because they’re close, intimate members of your inner circle.”

“Got it.”

“And the kids?” Doctor Mercer asked.

“Every day is a new challenge! May I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Do you think there’s an issue with us letting Jesse, Matthew, and Birgit walk to school and take the younger siblings with them, and pick up some friends along the way?”

“How far?”

“Six or seven blocks, depending on how they walk.”

“If I recall from my visits to Chicago, you’re in a pretty safe neighborhood.”

“Yes,” I replied firmly.

“Your kids are all intelligent and I’m sure you’ve taught them about traffic lights, and so on. So no, I don’t think there’s an issue. Why?”

“Some ‘concerned’ parent called the school about us putting our children at risk.”

Doctor Mercer sighed, “I had a case here with Family Services where a kid walked about a mile to the drug store. An adult decided the kid was lost and called the cops, despite the kid’s protest that he did it all the time. He was ten.”

“What happened?”

“In the end, nobody could point to a violation of any law, or even of common sense. I mean, seriously, the kid walked from the Little Miami River to Five Corners. So everything was dropped. But I keep hearing about cases like that. It’s not common, but it’s something I can’t even begin to imagine happening fifteen years ago. At worst, they would have called the kid’s parents, if they even took notice.”

“It’s all part of a trend I’m seeing,” I sighed. “Parents do not want their kids to grow up, and then you feed in this insane ‘stranger danger’ bullshit, plus the idiotic fear of ‘drug pushers’ and it’s all going to hell in a handcart. I knew where to buy pot, and even cocaine, when I was at MHS. So did all the kids. I bet you anything that after fifteen years of the ‘War on Drugs’ every kid at MHS knows where to get the stuff, and I bet it’s even cheaper!”

Doctor Mercer nodded, “Very true. I’ve done some addiction counseling, even though it’s not my forté. I usually deal with issues of teen sexuality, rape, incest, and other abuse.”

“Do you mind if I ask how you got started on that?”

“I think I mentioned my mentor who works in Dayton. She involved me in quite a few cases over the years. Bethany was one of the first ones I did ‘solo’. But even after that, I worked with my mentor on some cases. Would you like to hear something funny? From about fifteen years ago?”

“Sure.”

“My mentor asked me to help with a case of alleged incest somewhere east of here. Believe it or not, YOU factored into that.”

“Me?!” I asked in surprise. “How?”

“The young man I interviewed mentioned he’d tried to get some girls to play ‘strip chess’ after hearing about a kid in Milford who had invented it!”

I doubled over in laughter, taking a moment to compose myself.

“That’s just perfect! I have to tell Jennifer that one!”

Doctor Mercer smirked, “I recall telling him it was probably a good thing he didn’t convince the girls to play. He didn’t seem to know the rules you and Jennifer concocted, and I wasn’t about to tell him!”

I laughed even more, “Poor kid. I hope things turned out OK for him.”

“They did, and in one of the more bizarre coincidences in life, he’s a trauma doctor.”

“Interesting. I wonder if Jess knows him or ever met him.”

“No investigations, Steve. I told you simply because I knew you’d get a kick out of it.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. Just me wondering.”

“You wondering has a way of turning into you obsessing.”

“Point taken. I won’t.”

“Otherwise, how are things with the kids?”

“They’re great, really. You know we give the kids a lot of freedom to make their own decisions, and they’re learning to use that freedom responsibly. When the principal called to talk to me, she went out of her way to say that they were, and I’m quoting here, ‘charming, wonderful, and intelligent’, and also ‘real stinkers’!”

“Of that I have no doubt. How is your relationship with Birgit?”

“Very close, but on the correct side of the line.”

“I’m glad we got past the tirades every time I ask you about that. Work is good?”

“We’re very successful.”

“And your wives?”

“Happy. Jessica has really made an effort and it’s paid off. The three of us are far closer now than we’ve ever been, despite her working an overnight shift.”

“At least you were prepared for that and accepted the realities of the situation. Many spouses do not. So, let’s talk about the young women.”

I described my relationships with Meredith, Jasmine, and Molly, with Doctor Mercer asking her usual probing questions. I didn’t learn anything new, but I did firm up my belief that I was on the right track, and Doctor Mercer generally agreed.

“Your choice of young women seems to have changed, and I think that’s a very good thing. Teenage girls may be able to consent, but that consent ought to be with teenage boys, not men. It’s not ALWAYS wrong, but the locus of power in the relationship makes things tough, not to mention the vast gap in life experience.”

“I’ve noticed,” I said. “The life-experience thing, I mean. It started a few years ago, but it’s become stark recently.”

“Did something happen?”

I smiled, “No, it’s what didn’t happen.”

I told her about Marcia and everything that had happened with her mom, and the resulting court orders, as well as the rules I was writing for the dojo.

“This young woman’s reaction is the one I would expect from most sixteen-year-olds when they contemplate a sexual encounter with an older man. Not all of them, mind you, but most. Once the gap gets to be ten years or more, everything changes, at least until the women are in their late twenties or early thirties, when a ten-year gap is very common, and even longer, as with your parents.”

“So you’re saying I’m not going to have a string of teenage girls demanding to get into my bed?” I asked with a smirk.

“YOU will,” she laughed. “Most guys won’t. But you need to consider just how dangerous that is, and I’m not just talking about the legal issues.”

“Trust me, Doc, I’m learning. I may be slow on the uptake at times, but I understand.”

“Well, I’d say you passed your check-up. It’s probably a good idea to do this every six-to-twelve months, or when something important happens in your life. Do be mindful about your dalliances, as you call them.”

I smiled, “Birgit calls them ‘dall-yances’.”

“I’m not sure I’m comfortable with the idea of your kids knowing about your extracurricular activities, but I suppose at this point it’s too late to change that.”

“I’d say! But honestly, only Birgit really has any idea. Yes, the others know things happen, but Birgit has an uncanny knack for figuring things out.”

“That kid is going to be hell on wheels when she turns fourteen or fifteen!”

“She isn’t now?” I chuckled.

“Put her on birth control the moment she has her first period.”

“Kara already has that in hand,” I said. “She knows just how much like her our daughter is!”

Doctor Mercer shook her head, “I could write a book!”

I grinned, “I already have.”

She nodded with a curious look, but didn’t ask.

“My journals,” I added.

“Of course,” she said laughing. “I should have realized that’s what you meant.”

After shaking hands, I headed back to Joyce’s house for lunch and Connie and Anthony’s appointment with destiny.

November 4, 1995, Colerain Township, Ohio

I was standing just inside the foyer of the guest house when the door was opened to admit Anthony and Connie.

“Good afternoon. I am Colonel Yekaterina Sergeyevna Anisimova of the Committee for State Security.”

“What the fuck?” Connie spat.

“You heard her,” I said sternly. “She’s a Colonel in the KGB. I’m sure you’ve heard of it. And she’s a ‘Hero of the Soviet Union’ no less, as you can plainly see from the medal and ribbon she’s wearing.”

“What the fuck?” Connie repeated.

“«Полковник. Пожалуйста, продолжайте»,” I said. (“Colonel, please proceed.”)

“«Конечно, Степа Райевич!»” (“Certainly, Stepa Rayevich!”) she replied, then turned to Connie and Tony, “I must search you. You first, young man.”

She was speaking with a heavy Russian accent, which under normal circumstances had faded, though not as much as her daughter’s had; not by a long shot.

“No!” Connie spat at Anthony. “Don’t! We didn’t agree to this!”

“My room, my rules,” I said. “You can be frisked and searched, or walk away. But if you walk away, you’ll regret it.”

She laughed derisively, “I don’t think so!”

“Colonel, allow her to step forward.”

Katya put her hand on her Glock, which was holstered on her right side and nodded. Connie stepped forward. I pulled her closer and put my lips close to her ear.

“How will Anthony react when I tell him about the birthmark on your thigh and how I know about it? Don’t fuck with me on this, Connie. I’m serious.”

“Asshole,” she spat.

“Step back!” Colonel Anisimova commanded.

Connie glared at me but did step back. Katya expertly frisked Tony, finding a switchblade in his sock. I smirked at the silliness of such an attempt. By the time he drew the knife, I’d have put him on the floor with a perfectly executed karate strike, or one of the two women would have shot him. Less funny was Katya finding a compact, two-shot pistol in Connie’s purse.

“I specifically said ‘no guns’,” I growled. “I should call this off based on simple disrespect!”

“You’re packing!” Connie protested. “And so is your Russian whore!”

I saw Katya tense, and I wondered for a split second if she was going to shoot Connie on general principles. And I suspected for a split second, she’d thought about doing it.

“As I said, my room, my rules.”

“They are clean now, Stepa,” Colonel Anisimova said.

“«Спасибо, полковник. Пожалуйста, выходите на улицу и следите за любыми хулиганами.»” (“Thank you. Colonel. Please step outside and watch for any hooligans.”)

She nodded, handed me the knife and gun, and stepped outside. I was sure she put her back to the door as we’d discussed.

“When did you learn Russian?” Anthony asked, sounding almost frightened.

I hadn’t, of course, but I had spent an hour with Katya Sergeyevna learning the phrases which I was sure I’d horribly mispronounced.

“You think Italians have some sort of monopoly on your business? You haven’t heard of what’s going on in Russia?”

“Oh shit,” Anthony moaned.

“For fuck’s sake, Tony, he’s BLUFFING! He found some Russian whore to fake it!”

“There’s nothing fake about Colonel Anisimova,” I said. “I’ve known her for fifteen years, and she most certainly was in the KGB. She has other interests now.”

“Connie, give this up,” Tony said.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Connie ordered angrily.

My analysis had been correct. ‘Little Tony’ was exactly that - little. It was Connie who was fully in charge. Anthony had been so bullied by the black and Hispanic gangs that he’d lost whatever balls he had in the face of TRUE opposition. He was nothing more than a street hood in the Detroit Mafia, and like all bullies, standing up to him revealed his true nature.

Connie, of course, was exactly what I’d expected. The one thing that bugged me was, if Tony was as weak as I now thought he was, why she would be so concerned about me revealing our sexual history. The only thing that made sense, as crazy as it seemed, was that she was in love with him and didn’t want to hurt him.

“Come on in,” I said.

“What about my sister?”

“She has no part in this,” I said. “She tried to explain things to you, but you wouldn’t listen. She’s completely clean and has NEVER been involved in anything on this side of the business. I’m keeping it that way. We all know my history with your grandfather. Now, come in and sit down at the table.”

We walked to the dining room where Eve was standing against the wall, her .357 ostentatiously displayed in an unsnapped holster. I placed the pistol and switchblade on a desk next to Eve.

“What the fuck?!” Connie protested. “We agreed no muscle!”

“No, YOU agreed not to bring any muscle. Joyce said exactly what I told her to - that I wouldn’t agree to a meeting unless you agreed not to bring muscle. But you see, I don’t trust you, and I was right, because you had the pea-shooter in your purse, which was against the rules. But I knew you would try something like that, so I made sure I had my friend from the KGB here, as well as this young woman who can unload that .357 rapidly into the 10-ring of a paper target at six yards.

“Now, you have a choice. You can hear me out, we can end this nonsense, and both go on our way. Or, we can go to the mattresses. But if we do that, neither of you is going to like how it ends. So, are you going to listen, or are we going to fight?”

“Do you actually have bullets in that gun?” she asked snidely.

“Show her,” I said to Eve.

She drew the Ruger and opened the cylinder to show six Black Talon rounds.

“Those rounds are ‘Black Talons’,” I said. “They’re designed to expand when they enter your body and shred your insides. I’m not bluffing.”

I pulled my pistol from the under-the-shoulder holster, racked the slide, causing a round to be ejected.