Chapter 67: A DARNED Good Question

April 23, 1983, McKinley, Ohio

"Tasha demanded you not date me?" Janey asked.

"Actually, she requested that if I date her, I not date anyone at either church because of the trouble it could cause with her father, the priests, and Vladyka ARKADY."

"Very neatly excluding me by appealing to your desire for peace."

"I know that's how it looks, but honestly, I wasn't seeing you at the time and certainly didn't believe you were going to show up here tonight to talk to me, or any other time for that matter. Just so we're clear, I acknowledged the request as a wise course of action, IF Tasha and I were going to see each other."

"ARE you going to see each other?"

"I have no idea," I said with a slight shrug of my shoulders. "It's something I've thought a lot about since she approached me. I hadn't decided; you just stirred the pot, which was sort of beginning to settle. To be honest, I was so unsure about how to proceed that I began thinking of other options. But that was before you showed up at church tonight."

"Other options besides Tasha?"

"And you, of course. I had more or less ruled you out, though I guess part of me hoped you would eventually talk to me. I probably would have made one more effort when the semester ended, assuming I hadn't decided to agree to Tasha's condition, which I hadn't and didn't know if I would because it would more or less force my hand."

"Because you are committed to marrying an Orthodox girl."

"Or one who would wholeheartedly embrace the Church. I know a couple of girls like that, and Jocelyn would have."

"Angie is one, obviously," Janey observed. "I know you aren't talking about your friend Clarissa for equally obvious reasons, so I'm guessing the other one you mean is Becky, your friend from Michigan?"

The waitress brought our salads, and after I gave a blessing, we started eating.

"Yes," I replied. "But the distance is a serious impediment. I talk to her occasionally, and we send letters, but I only see her a few times a year. She's only completing her Freshman year in May."

Janey tilted her head to the side, then smiled.

"I'll be attending services as Dormition of the Mother of God in Columbus. That's not one of the two churches."

"That does fit the letter of the law, so to speak," I grinned, "but it's Vladyka ARKADY's cathedral. In other words, it would satisfy what Tasha actually asked for, but there could still be difficulties with the Bishop."

"So you could only ever date one girl in the entire diocese at a time?"

"I'd have to carefully consider how it might look if I, as a subdeacon, seemed to be seriously involved with more than one girl, yes. It's more about appearances than anything. And I think you can see why the church insists that deacons and priests who wish to be married have to do so before their ordinations!"

"I could see how that could get messy! Are you saying you have to decide between us right now, even if I plan to attend another church?"

"I don't know just yet. Honestly, you surprised me today. I'm not saying that's a bad thing, by the way; it just jumbled my thinking once again. Sort of par for the course these days. This is, by the way, part of why I like to have SOME kind of plan against which I can measure what I'm doing. A list of classes I need to take, grades I need to achieve, requirements I have to fulfill, tests I have to take, and so on."

"Which doesn't work with relationships, except perhaps in a broad sense. There is no timeline unless you impose it on yourself."

"I know," I replied. "And honestly, I wasn't trying to impose a timeline on our relationship; I was only trying to figure out what the next waypoint would be and a general idea of how to get there. At some point, I DO have to make a choice, and it's permanent. Which means figuring out who my wife ought to be. Good sex is important, but it's not enough. And it's no basis for a true relationship."

"But is that a reason to stop?"

"That wasn't the reason I suggested we not have sex that morning; it was about priorities."

"And you felt mine were messed up."

"I don't know that 'messed up' is the right way to put it. I just think you weren't focusing enough on developing our relationship. The first thing you thought of was sex."

"Which, for the typical twenty-year-old guy, would be a positive, not a negative."

"I'm not a typical twenty-year-old guy," I said with a smile.

"That's for damned sure!" Janey laughed.

"What do you want, Janey?" I asked.

"A second chance, I guess. Is there ANY way forward?"

That was a VERY good question. My mom had given me, through Tasha, advice I probably would have rejected if my mom had given it herself. And the advice was good, especially given that I was going to be ordained a subdeacon in two weeks' time. My concern was what Deacon Vasily might say to the Bishop. If Tasha and I started seeing each other again, and he represented it as me 'courting', it might cause serious problems if I was even seen with Janey. I wondered if I could, as I had with the issue with Mr. Orlov, speak to the Bishop first.

"Maybe," I said. "We're only two weeks from my ordination and four weeks from the end of school. Let me get through that, and then we can talk. That will give me some time to think things through and figure out a reasonable course of action. I won't be home before then, anyway."

"What did you decide to do about the Summer?"

"The same plan I told you about — I arranged everything during Spring Break."

"So you won't come back to West Monroe?"

"I'll be home for the Memorial Day weekend, but that's the only plan I have right now. I did promise my mom and Liz that I would visit, and most likely, I'd do that on a Friday night because of my commitments at work and at church."

"I guess at this point, all I can do is wait until school is out."

"I think so, yes. Are you upset about that?"

"I had no clue what was going to happen today. Obviously, I hoped we could find a way to solve the problems, but I also knew you might just send me away. Would you call sometime in the next couple of weeks? Just to say 'Hi'?"

"I can do that. Are you coming to my ordination?"

"That won't cause problems, will it?"

"I can't imagine anyone making a stink about you being there. Well, Deacon Vasily might, but he's going to be at Holy Transfiguration that day. I promise Tasha won't create any problems because I'll let her know."

"Keeping your options open?"

"Trying to avoid unnecessary drama! For the next four weeks or so, that's what I need. I hope you'll understand."

"I'm the one asking for the second chance."

"Is that a 'yes, you understand'? Or a 'no'?"

Janey laughed, "Think about it this way; if you aren't worth waiting four weeks for, or even a Summer for, then you sure aren't worth marrying in three or four years."

April 24, 1983, McKinley, Ohio

"Do you do ANYTHING simply, Petrovich?" Clarissa teased on Sunday afternoon.

"I'm pretty sure the answer to that question has to be a firm 'no'," I grinned.

"How DO you get yourself into these situations?"

"Just lucky, I guess!"

"So you go from neither girl talking to you to both girls wanting you in the space of three weeks? That has to be some kind of record!"

"Are you trying to HELP me or harass me?"

"Both!" she laughed.

"Gee, thanks," I deadpanned.

"The way I see it, you have about a month before one of those two girls puts a hit out on you."

"Want to elope?"

Clarissa laughed, "Did you forget I'm a lesbian?"

"OK, then maybe we could just run away together and go to medical school someplace outside the US?"

"How about one of those questionable medical schools in the Caribbean? It would be warm and sunny! I read about one named Saint George's in Grenada."

"Oh, sure; that's a GREAT idea," I chuckled. "President Reagan is making threats against Grenada, and you want to go there?"

"It might actually be safer for you than staying here!"

"Are you going to harass me or give advice?" I huffed.

"Relax, Petrovich," Clarissa said with a soft laugh. "I don't think they'll ACTUALLY have you killed."

"Well, that's a relief," I replied, shaking my head.

"I guess the question to ask is whether you think either of those girls is really 'the one'?"

"If I knew the answer to THAT question, I wouldn't have this dilemma. And besides, you're 'the one', and you know it!"

I pulled Clarissa just a bit closer, and she put her head on my shoulder.

"You know I feel the same way, but..."

She shifted a bit, then moved into my lap and leaned against me. I put my arms fully around her and held her.

" ... I think, in the end, sexual intimacy would be a problem. And it's not as if you could have a lover on the side. If your church ever found out, it would be a disaster. And it would be the same if I had one."

"I know," I soothed. "It's the obstacle that we can't go over, around, or through."

"Do you want to know the weird thing?"

"There's only one?"

Clarissa laughed softly, "Oh, so true! But I thought I needed a girl for emotional support, and I was wrong. I need a girl for sex; you provide all the rest."

"Then we have the exact same issue," I chuckled.

"I AM a girl, you «глупец» (glupys)!" she laughed. ("blockhead")

"Yes, you are. You have all the necessary secondary sex characteristics to make sex with you very enjoyable for me. But the problem is, MY secondary sex characteristics don't interest you, except perhaps in a clinical way."

"No, they don't," she sighed. "But sometimes I wonder if there's a way to make it work."

"I'm not sure trying to force your sexuality to the opposite side is something you even want to contemplate, let alone attempt."

"How important is sex to you?"

"I'm not quite sure what you're asking."

"I mean, is having Kristin in your bed the reason you're screwing her, or is it that you need or want sex?"

"You mean because I said I enjoyed sleeping with you in my arms?"

"Yes. Is it the closeness or the sex? Or both?"

"Some of both, I'd say."

"So if you and I slept in the same bed four or five nights, and you had Kristin the other nights, would that be enough?"

"I hadn't thought about it, but I suppose it probably would be. Why are you asking?"

"Just some crazy ideas floating around in my head. Are you good at oral sex?"

"None of the girls have ever complained, and I've always been able to bring them to orgasm, so I suppose I am. Why?"

"You're like a five-year-old with your 'Why?' questions! Do you enjoy it? Or is it something you do to make the girl happy?"

"Both, really. Do you enjoy it?"

"Giving or receiving?" Clarissa asked with a soft laugh.

"Either? Both?"

"Both, actually. It's extremely sexy if you know what I mean."

"From a guy's perspective, I suppose I do."

"Would you do something for me?"

"Anything. I've told you that."

"Kiss me? A nice, soft French kiss?"

I paused for a second, looking into her eyes, trying to discern what was going through her mind, even as my own thoughts were a complete jumble. I had to tread lightly lest I do something in haste that would destroy what we had.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. It's just a kiss."

"I'm not sure that's the case, but I want to, so yes."

She moved a bit, and our lips touched and parted, and our tongues slid together. I made every effort to keep the kiss as soft and gentle as possible. The kiss was amazing, and through it, I felt a connection deep into Clarissa's soul. There was something almost electric about the kiss, and I was amazed at how erotic and exciting it was despite being so soft and gentle. When Clarissa broke the kiss about twenty seconds later, it was as if part of me was being ripped away.

"I liked that," I said softly.

"Kiss me again, please, and this time, put your hand on my breast."

"Lissa..." I protested softly.

"Just shut up and do what I tell you, Petrovich!"

"You're turning into a Russian woman!" I chuckled.

She rolled her eyes but then moved her lips to mine. As our tongues came together, I placed my hand on her breast and gently cupped it. My pulse quickened, and I became hard as blood flowed into my shaft. There was no way Clarissa couldn't feel it, but she didn't move away or break the kiss. By the time she finally did, about a minute later, I was rock hard.

"How do you feel?" I asked after a couple of minutes of silence, punctuated only by our breathing.

"Weird. I take it from this," she wiggled a bit, "that YOU don't find it weird!"

I chuckled, "Trust me, it has a mind of its own! And a very small one!"

"If that's small, I'd hate to see big!"

"You know what I meant! It's difficult to control certain physiological reactions. I have a pretty girl in my lap, one whom I love and who I'm not only French kissing but fondling. Hormones pretty much take over at that point. I'm wondering why and why now."

"Are you THAT much of a «глупец» (glupys)?" she asked, shaking her head. ("blockhead")

"Testing the waters," I replied.

"Yes. And it's really, really weird. Is it OK to compare things between you and Glenda?"

"You know I'll talk to you about anything."

Clarissa smiled, "When I kiss her, it's like tingly or electric. My first French kiss with her had me soaking wet. It only got worse when she started touching me. And like I told you, when she sucked on my nipple, it was like someone turned on a switch in my brain that said I had to have her tongue in my pussy and mine in hers, or I'd die. And when we did, it was explosive.

"With you, just now, it was totally different. The first kiss was like, well, maybe the final step in a Vulcan mind meld. It felt nice. It felt loving. It felt caring. But it didn't feel tingly. The second one was more intense, and I liked your hand on my breast. It felt good but not tingly. And I didn't have the same kind of reaction physiologically."

"I suppose I'm not surprised by that. You aren't attracted to me sexually, but you are emotionally. I'm no expert, obviously, but I think it all makes sense."

"It doesn't upset you?"

"The lesbian chick doesn't have soaking-wet panties after two kisses from a guy? Color me not surprised!"

"That's not what I asked, Mike."

"Sorry. No, it doesn't upset me because I think it's what I expected. Is it what you expected?"

"Actually, no. I didn't realize how close it would make me feel to you. Did you feel that?"

"Souls merging?" I asked.

"That's probably better than 'Vulcan mind meld'."

"So what did you learn?"

"I'm not quite sure, really. Would you be willing to experiment further?"

"I don't want you to do anything you'll regret, or we'll both regret, or that might mess up our relationship. I'd much rather have you as my closest friend, confidante, and colleague, than take a chance on something which might backfire horribly."

"Is that a 'no'?" she asked quietly.

"Lissa," I said, pulling her tightly to me, "I'll do anything you ask. I mean that. Anything. But I reserve the right to ask you if you've lost your mind!"

"A question I don't have to ask you because we already know it's true!"

"You're assuming I actually had one to start with!"

"True. With guys, you do have to wonder!"

"You know I love you, Lissa. I just don't want to hurt you in any way. How was Friday night?"

"We never made it out of Glenda's dorm!"

"Did you get ANY sleep?" I asked with a grin.

"A few hours. I took a nap yesterday afternoon."

"You're like the kid with the new toy!"

"And you weren't?"

"Jocelyn's accident happened before we could repeat what we'd done in Cincinnati, and it was months before I did it again. I turned down a few opportunities, too."

"So you've gone long periods without it since you first did it?"

"Yes."

"Interesting."

"Why?"

"There you go again in 'five-year-old mode'!" she laughed. "Just me thinking again. Don't worry about it right now."

"OK. Shall we go find our friends?"

"Five more minutes of cuddles, please?"

"Absolutely!"

April 25, 1983, McKinley, Ohio

"Thank you for calling me back during the evening, Doctor Henderson."

"You're welcome. I take it this is about Jocelyn Mills?"

"It is."

"You know I can't discuss specifics with you, right?"

"I actually was hoping you could tell ME where I went wrong."

"You do remember I warned you about becoming intimate with her again, right?"

"I do, but I don't think that was the cause of the problem, at least not in and of itself."

"I really am limited in what I can say to you by patient confidentiality. You might want to seek out someone to talk to who can go over the events with you and help you figure it out. Someone with experience in dealing with relationship issues. I'm sorry I can't help you."

"I don't want you to violate Jocelyn's privacy or get in trouble, so I totally understand. Thank you for returning my call."

"You're welcome."

We hung up, and I sat down on the couch to think. I wasn't surprised when Clarissa came in a few minutes later.

"Problems?"

"She can't speak to me due to patient confidentiality. It makes sense because I'm sure we'll be taught the same thing in our medical ethics classes."

"So now what?"

"She suggested I find someone to talk to who can help me try to figure it out from my side."

"That sounds almost impossible! Wouldn't they have to know Jocelyn's mindset?"

"Or have dealt with someone with similar issues. That sort of rules out Doctor Hart, which doesn't bother me, really."

"Because he doesn't think you and I should be as close as we are?"