Chapter 50: Reconciliation

February 5, 1983, West Monroe, Ohio

"I owe you an apology for earlier. Not for what I said, but how I said it."

"And I owe you one for interfering in something I shouldn't have," Mom replied.

"I'm going to need to talk to Dad, too," I said. "But again, only for walking away, not for objecting to his classification of April as not being a 'nice' girl."

"I thought for a moment you were going to say, 'make Mom' instead of 'make me'."

"For a moment, I was. But at that split second, good sense overcame my emotional response."

"I thought about what you said, Mike, and I have to admit there is some truth to your complaint about the way we're treating you. It appears you're right about the girls, but I think you understand why I was concerned. I'm also concerned about you not telling Clark so he can take responsibility."

I shook my head, "This is NOT a situation like April's. Nobody should have known about this except Emmy and Mindy, and MAYBE Liz. I shouldn't know. You shouldn't know. It's just too dangerous. That was my whole point in asking you to stay out of it. It's a very bad situation, and it has to be contained.

"Mom, please, please, please do not second-guess me on this! If you do, and it leads to Mr. Nelson finding out, you know what's going to happen. I'm saying this in love and being as calm as I can, but Emmy's blood, and probably Clark's, will be on your hands if you don't just stay out of it. I'm staying out of it unless the girls come back to me for some reason.

"Len Nelson is an angry racist with guns who forbade his daughter from having anything to do with our family because Clark and his mom were here in our house and because Clark is my roommate. Just what do you think will happen if this gets out? This isn't a time for moralizing or anything of the sort. It's time for cool, level-headed responses. I got upset because of the insane danger Emmy is in. Please don't make it worse than it already is."

"When did your morals become situational?"

"When the situation called for it," I replied tersely. "Did I condemn Liz as a fallen woman? No. Did I object, other than to say I hated the solution which required Liz to have an abortion? No. Do I treat April as if she's wearing a scarlet 'A' on her chest? No. And do you know why? Because I'm as much a sinner as any of them, perhaps even more so. It's not my place to condemn them. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: that is WAY above my pay grade."

"I'm curious, Reader Michael, about what you're going to do next Summer when Becky visits."

"The same as always — talk with her and decide what is best for both of us. And, in the end, I'm the one who stands before the icon of Christ with Father Nicholas to discuss my failings and weaknesses and attempts to find the strength to overcome them together in union with God through Christ. My sins are my business, Mom, not yours. Your sins are your business, not mine. When I get the redwood tree out of my eye, then I'll start looking for the tiny splinter in someone else's eye."

"So why not stop?"

"Asks the woman who had the exact same weakness, which she voluntarily confessed to me."

Mom smiled, "You are my son. And you just neatly painted me into a corner where I either have to agree with you or turn into a complete and utter judgmental hypocrite."

I nodded, "Those do appear to be the two options. Your call, Mom."

"You can be a real «придурок» (pridurok), Mikhail Petrovich."

"How is explaining myself being a 'jerk'? Especially given that what I said is pretty much the teaching of the Church on sin — we each have to look to our own salvation first, and by doing so, others around us will be saved. I have a LONG way to go, and I have a whole bunch of challenges. The last thing I'm going to do is believe I'm somehow better than anyone else."

"That's your REAL problem with your dad, isn't it? That Dutch Calvinist 'holier than thou' strain which he hasn't quite come to grips with."

"That would be it. When the Bishop asked me if there were any impediments to me being a reader, I replied I was a sinner. His response was that if THAT was a disqualification, there would be no clergy. One thing I learned, which I really should have known, is the Bishop has his own struggles with sin. And to me, his admission of that, and the fact that he struggles, makes him a better bishop in my eyes."

"Most people would be scandalized."

"Then most people aren't paying attention to the teaching of the Church! We aren't Donatists! I realized, when I thought about it, that I really wasn't really paying attention. It dawned on me after I met with the Bishop that the icon of The Last Judgment shows clergy, including bishops, in Hell. And that made me recall the homily where Father Herman spoke about the monk who visited Hell and saw his former abbot up to his neck in fire, and when he wept for the abbot, the abbot said not to weep only for him but also for their former Bishop on whose shoulders the abbot was standing.

"Or take Saint Moses the Black, who was called to judge a fellow monk and assign an appropriate penance. He refused, but they insisted, so he showed up with a bag of sand over his shoulder. The bag had a small hole that let the sand run out, and when the other monks asked him about it, he said 'My sins run out behind me, and I do not see them, but today I am coming to judge the errors of another'. Do you remember what happened?"

Mom nodded, "The assembled monks were ashamed and forgave their brother who had sinned against them."

"So, you were asking about situational morals?" I asked with a wry smile. "Notice, in none of the things we talked about, did I ever say they weren't sinners or that they'd made poor choices or however you want to put it. I simply refused to judge. That's a VERY different thing, don't you think?"

Mom smiled, "My son, the bishop."

"God forbid!" I laughed. "The poor congregation! Besides, I like sex at least as much as you do, and there is NO WAY in Heaven or on earth I'm signing up for a life of chastity. You know my feelings about saying 'yes' to the Bishop; well, there's one reason I'd say 'no'!"

"Or you could just adopt Deacon Vasily's approach!"

I laughed, "I should have realized you knew about how Matushka and Deacon Vasily got together."

"Tasha came very close to trying the same thing, though I believe you managed to sidestep that, at least for the moment."

"1964 was quite a bit different from 1983! Getting married at seventeen and not finishing High School isn't exactly a good life plan these days. That said, if a woman wants to be a wife, mother, and homemaker, I support that, so long as she's not forced into it by some patriarchal «херня» (khernya)." ("nonsense")

Mom smiled, "For someone who is in an extremely patriarchal church, you have very feminist opinions!"

"First of all, if I have to remind you who REALLY runs the church and who runs our family, we have bigger problems! And second, I'm no feminist. I believe each and every one of us is a child of God and has the ability to succeed at nearly any job, no matter what our particular sex might be. Yes, there are differences between men and women, but I fail to see how having «яйца» (yaytsa) is going to make me a better doctor than Clarissa, Sophia, or Sandy!" ("balls"; Lit. 'eggs')

"Let's just say that the medical and legal professions could use a good dose of femininity at every level. Politics, too."

I nodded, "I also don't think it takes «яйца» (yaytsa) to lead a country, and although I'm not too familiar with Margaret Thatcher, she seems to be proving that quite well."

"Golda Meir and Indira Gandhi are two others."

"Wasn't Golda Meir from Russia?"

"Actually, she was Ukrainian. She was born in Kiev and her name was «Ґольда Мабович» (G̀olda Maboviç). Did you know she lived in Milwaukee as a child and attended UW-Milwaukee? I don't think she graduated, though."

I shook my head, "No. I only remember reading a very little bit about her in a current events class during my Sophomore year of High School when she died."

"Anyway, I think you and I agree on this issue."

"Along with most others," I said with a knowing smile. "What about Dad?"

"A tougher nut to crack. Let me ask you this: how long would it take to undo all the Orthodox teaching you've had for the past twenty years?"

I smiled, "I don't think it could be done. Which is why, in the end, my relationships with April and Melody didn't work out. Which brings to mind a question. Why?"

Mom smiled, "How much accommodation would YOU have made for Jocelyn?"

"In all honesty, probably quite a bit. I wouldn't have become Lutheran, though."

"Your dad fell in love with me and was willing to convert because of that. Which is why he's struggled. It's not like with the Rileys."

"Their journey to Orthodoxy started long before they actually encountered the Church."

"Yes. Your dad's basically started the day we got engaged. He was chrismated less than a week before our crowning. His catechism was very short, too. Father Alexi didn't want to scare him away!"

I laughed, "Seriously?"

"It wasn't QUITE like that, but I think Father Alexi was very careful about how he guided your dad before the wedding. Afterwards, your dad started attending adult Sunday School, and, for the most part, he's come around. But he still has a very Protestant view of sin and morality."

"Be that as it may, I need to apologize to him for simply walking away. I can't apologize for being Orthodox."

"Nor for being Russian," Mom laughed. "You may be genetically half-Dutch, but you're Russian through and through."

"I blame you and Grandpa for that!" I chuckled.

"Be that as it may," Mom said with a silly smile, "it's why you need to marry someone who has the same mindset. I'm not saying they have to be Russian by heritage, but you don't need the stress of those kinds of disagreements at home."

"It's funny because I never really sensed any stress between you and Dad until everything that happened with Jocelyn and Liz."

"Because there was no real reason for you to know about it. Your dad didn't really fight with me; he just hid out in his workshop until he made peace with whatever it was that was bugging him."

"That doesn't sound healthy for a relationship."

"Mike, you're going to find that in ANY relationship you want to last, there are going to be things you do to keep the peace. I bet you did that with Dale and Jocelyn. Especially with Jocelyn."

I nodded, "Probably. And speaking of her, I realized something tonight. After the conversation with Dad, and then the one with you, I thought about just not coming home except to take Tasha or Janey out on dates, go back to McKinley afterwards, and even stay there for the Summer because I wanted to be left alone. I think I better understand Jocelyn's insistence that I not try to see her now. And I might have forced her to act the way she did to get her point across."

"What was in the envelope?"

"It doesn't matter," I said. "It was something which drove home what she'd been telling me. Dale called her, obviously on my behalf, and she told him off, too. That's what prompted her to send me the envelope. And please don't pry. This is another thing where the fewer people who know, the better."

"I am sorry about what happened with Liz."

"I think you two should use that as an opening to repair the relationship. And you're going to have to make the most effort, Mom. Like it or not, you're going to have to move closer to her thinking, not expect her to become a mini-Rachel."

Mom laughed, "Which is, in the end, the source of our conflict. Being TOO much alike is sometimes more difficult than being very different. Kind of like magnets at times."

"I like that analogy."

"On the note of parental-child relationships, how are things with Tasha?"

"She's chafing under the repressive regime which Deacon Vasily has instituted. It's not QUITE as bad for Tasha as it is for Sasha, but that doesn't make Tasha happy. It turns out the only reason she's allowed to go out with me is because Vladyka ARKADY interceded. He was in the room when I called you and then when I called Tasha and sensed something was amiss. I didn't say anything about it other than it was a private matter between the Antonovs. He took it upon himself to speak to Deacon Vasily."

"Vladyka knows about you and Tasha?"

"He said it wasn't his place to tell me who to marry but that I could do far worse than Tasha. And he gave me hints about Tasha's mom, which Tasha confirmed."

"I wondered how that came up. Well, I guess the Bishop really does like you!"

"I think the Bishop has his own agenda, and me having a faithful Orthodox wife, who is the daughter of one of his deacons, would fit that agenda quite nicely! He told me to marry her without telling me to marry her!"

Mom laughed, "Subtlety is effective in some instances. You usually need to be whacked on the nose with a rolled-up newspaper to get your attention."

"So it would seem. I take it Dad's hiding in his workshop?"

"He's actually in the garage because he's finishing the table and chairs for the Borisovs."

"How did he get to be such a craftsman?"

"Ask him, Mike. That might be a good way to start the conversation."

I nodded and headed through the kitchen door into the garage, where my dad was applying varnish to a table leg. At one point, when I'd been little, he'd insulated the garage, hung drywall, and installed a small heater so he could work in the garage in the Winter. The small exhaust fan he'd installed just behind the workbench was on to draw the fumes out.

"Where did you learn woodworking?" I asked.

"From our next-door neighbor in Naperville. I was about fourteen when he started teaching me."

"What got you interested in woodworking?"

"Shop class, mostly."

"Mostly?"

Dad looked up and shook his head, "I need to learn to select my words more carefully. It also had something to do with his fourteen-year-old daughter on whom I had a pretty big crush."

I chuckled, "It's always about girls, isn't it? Did you ever date her?"

"No. She barely knew I existed even though I lived next door and hung out with her dad, learning woodworking. It turned out she was dating a High School Junior who she ended up marrying the Summer after graduation."

"Well, at least you got a fun hobby out of it! Why not do this for a living?"

"There are no deadlines. I can take my time and relax and enjoy myself. And make other people happy."

"You know, I never asked, but what about all the materials?"

"If I'm making something on request, like this table and chairs for Ivan Borisov, they either buy the materials I specify, or they offer to reimburse me for them. Sometimes, they'll add something for my labor, but I never ask. Obviously, if it's a gift, like the icon stand for the church, I pay for the materials. Consider it my version of what you spend on your music library."

"I'm sorry I walked away from you earlier."

Dad nodded and smiled wanly, "Which is my usual response to things like that. In nearly every other way, you're like your mom and your grandfather."

"I'm trying to do less running away, but sometimes I just need to walk away."

"It's a balance, Mike. One I never was able to master. I don't like confrontation, but sometimes it's necessary. We had this talk when there was all the trouble with Liz."

"She's a good kid, Dad," I said gently. "Having sex, getting pregnant, and using drugs were things she DID, not who she IS."

"Don't those two things go together?"

"And every mistake you've ever made ought to be tallied up and used to judge you rather than have me see you as a pretty good dad and a good husband to Mom?"

"'Pretty good dad' but 'good husband'?" he asked with an arched eyebrow.

"Show me one kid who thinks their parents are perfect!" I chuckled.

"Good point!" he laughed. "Show me one wife who thinks her husband is perfect!"

"I don't have the experience to speak authoritatively, but anecdotal evidence from Grandpa and his friends suggests you're right!"

Dad shook his head, "Don't listen to those old men! They're a bit cynical at this point!"

"And you think I don't know that?" I chuckled. "That cynicism comes from years and years of being married to a Russian woman!"

Dad looked over to the door to the house and lowered his voice conspiratorially, "Tell me about it!"

I laughed hard, "I noticed you made sure the coast was clear before you said that out loud!"

"Self-preservation! But don't get me wrong, Mike. I love your mom and would be lost without her."

"So it's a good thing she's there to tell you what to do and think every step of the way?"

"Just as Tasha will for you!" Dad laughed. "How did things go?"

"The warden is allowing her unsupervised release for an hour at a time," I chuckled.

"I take it you don't see Deacon Vasily's point."

"Oh, I do, completely. Where I have a problem is his assumption that Tasha and I were lying to him. That's what angered Tasha more than anything. That he didn't believe she was still virtuous because Sasha tried to deflect her dad's anger."

"Please don't take this the wrong way, but given what I know about your behavior, I do find it a bit hard to swallow."

I suppressed a sigh and took just a normal breath before speaking.

"I made a commitment to Tasha that I would ensure we stayed on the correct side of that line until such time as it was appropriate not to. And that's not a 'we decide when the appropriate time is' but the time YOU believe is appropriate and the Church teaches is appropriate."