Good Medicine - Sophomore Year - Cover

Good Medicine - Sophomore Year

Copyright © 2015-2023 Penguintopia Productions

Chapter 33: A Fresh Start?

December 26, 1982, West Monroe, Ohio

"Shit!" I swore vehemently, and in English for effect, when I walked out onto the porch on Sunday morning.

"Mikhail Petrovich!" Mom said sternly.

I picked up the box on the front porch and turned to show her.

"«Говно» (gavno)!" she replied. ("shit")

I nodded, "Nice to know you agree with me."

The box was the one that held the two stuffed rabbits I'd bought for Jocelyn. The fact that she'd returned them spoke volumes, and short of putting up a tombstone, I wasn't sure there was a stronger indication that our relationship was dead and buried, at least from Jocelyn's perspective.

"I'm so sorry, Mike. Are you OK?"

I shook my head, "No, I'm not. I feel as if I was kicked in the gut. I guess I should put these in my room."

I carried the box into the house, put it on my desk, then came back downstairs.

"I'll see you at church," I said.

"If you need to talk..."

I shook my head, "Not right now."

I actually DID need to talk, but not to my mom. I needed to talk to Clarissa and maybe Angie, and then I needed a night of special cuddling with Sophia. Unfortunately, none of the three were in West Monroe, though I did have both Angie's and Clarissa's phone numbers.

"You're sure you're OK?" she asked.

"I'll be fine. I'm just driving to church."

"See you there in a bit."

I nodded and walked out to my car, got in, started the engine, put it in gear, and pulled out of the driveway. I was still stunned that Jocelyn had returned the gift and done so by leaving them on the porch in the middle of the night. As I drove, I realized I almost should have expected that kind of possible response, but I'd hoped my gesture would have opened the door, even a crack. Now, short of kidnapping her and forcing her to talk to me, I was out of options.

I arrived at church early, as I liked to, and stood quietly in the nave. We'd celebrated the Feast of the Nativity with a Divine Liturgy the previous morning, and the church smelled heavenly from the spruce incense Father Herman always used at Christmas. We'd use it until Theophany, when we'd switch to frankincense.

Just before Matins began, Tasha came to stand next to me. She took my hand, squeezed it, then let go, as it wasn't considered appropriate to hold hands in church. Even with their desire to see us marry, the «бабушки» (babushki) would frown on such a public display of affection in the nave of the church.

Nearly four hours later, when the services ended, Tasha and I left the church and picked up Dale. The three of us went to Rutherford for lunch at A&W.

"Back to eating normally, right?" Dale asked.

"Double-cheeseburger for sure!" I agreed.

I ordered food for Tasha and me, and Dale ordered his food. When it was ready, we carried it to a booth and sat down to eat.

"Jocelyn returned my Christmas gift in the middle of the night," I said.

"Seriously?" Dale asked, shaking his head. "What is wrong with her?"

"I wish I knew," I said.

"Something is clearly wrong with her mental health," Tasha said carefully. "I mean no disrespect."

"I feel the same way," I said. "But unless she talks to me, there isn't much I can do. She won't talk to Dale, either."

"I called her yesterday to wish her a 'Merry Christmas'," he said. "I couldn't get her to talk to me. I think she assumes I'm doing your bidding, Mike."

"I believe it," I sighed. "Somehow, I've become the enemy."

"So now, what will you do, Mishka?"

"There isn't much I can do. If she won't talk to me, and she won't talk to Dale, and given that she returned my gift, I'm at a loss. I don't think there is anything I CAN do."

"I'm sorry."

"Me, too," I said.

"Dale, how is Wisconsin?" Tasha asked.

"I love it. Madison is a nice-sized city, has lots of bars and lots of things to do. Everyone is really friendly, especially the girls."

"Of course!" Tasha laughed. "And your grades?"

"A's and B's. I'm a business major, so grades are not nearly as important as they are for Mike. You're a Junior, right?"

"Yes."

"Are you going to go to college?"

"Maybe junior college, but a lot depends on what happens when I graduate."

Dale knew the story, so he didn't ask what that meant, which was a good thing. I'd had too many discussions about things that were too far in the future to worry about, at least for the time being.

We finished lunch, and after dropping Tasha at home, Dale and I went back to my house to play pool and chess for the rest of the afternoon. He left just before dinner, and after dinner, I finally decided it was time to talk to my dad. We went down to his workshop, and, as he usually did when we talked, he began working on a piece of furniture.

"Your mom told me you didn't want to talk to me."

"I wasn't interested in a lecture, nor was I interested in an argument. We've talked about these things before, and nothing has changed."

"I'm concerned about Becky."

"I know. But there's nothing wrong from either Becky's perspective or mine. She and I have talked about everything, and, to be blunt, she basically demanded I sleep in my room with her. But it's not even like that. We both know what we're doing, and we both know what the future holds isn't certain, nor is either of us counting on some specific outcome. To be honest, if she lived closer, we'd be dating. But she doesn't live close. So we make the best of the situation, and we'll see what comes of it."

"She's very vulnerable, Mike."

"She was, but she's not now. Well, not nearly so much, anyway. But I'm not taking advantage of her."

"You truly believe you two might marry?"

"I don't even begin to know how to answer that question. Is it within the realm of possible outcomes? Sure. What is the likelihood? I haven't the foggiest idea! That's not at the top of my list of concerns at the moment. Heck, it's not even close. And Becky knows that. So do Tasha and Katy. I'm not playing games with them, Dad. As I told Mom, and I know I've told you before, the only commitment I've made is the one I made to Tasha not to make any decisions in that regard before she graduates.

"I intend to keep that agreement. The only way I'd break it is if some bizarre set of circumstances led to Tasha and me being engaged before then. But I sure as heck can't envision what THOSE might be. In the end, you and Mom seem to be more worried about who I'm going to marry than I am! Nobody bugs me about this stuff at school! My friends all pretty much agree with my approach of worrying about school, taking the MCAT, and getting into medical school.

"So I guess the bottom line is, and I mean this with love and respect, I'd like you to please butt out. I'm sorry if that sounds harsh, but I'm nearly twenty, and some decisions, especially about relationships, I HAVE to make for myself."

Dad stopped sanding the chair leg he had in his hand and turned on his stool to look at me.

"I'm still your dad, Mike," he said quietly but firmly. "And this is still our house."

I nodded, "Both of those things are true, but it's my life."

"Also true, but there are limits."

"Then you and Mom need to agree on what those limits are," I said. "I cleared Becky staying here with Mom, and she told me she assumed Becky and I would share a bed. She certainly didn't tell me not to do it."

"Perhaps she thought you'd make the right decision on your own."

"The right decision for whom? Me? Becky? You? Mom? Becky and I made the decision we felt was correct and within the bounds of what I'd discussed with Mom. I never had to ask both of you when I was little. I'd ask and get an answer and assume that was final. I never played the game Liz played when she tried to play you off against one another."

"No, you always went to your mom."

"Yes, I did. And we talked about why that was last year when all the stuff happened with Liz. I guess my serious objection is that you're saying going to Mom isn't good enough and suggesting I should have somehow known that when it was OK for most of the last nineteen years."

"And do you think Liz should be able to bring a boy to spend the night with her?"

"I think that's none of my business," I said. "But I'll point out I was eighteen and in college before Becky and I were together here. And Mom had a chance to say 'no' then as well."

"You don't care what your sister does?"

I took a deep breath and let it out, "What happened last year colors anything I might say, but in the end, so long as she's not in danger, I don't get a say in the matter. And according to the State of Ohio, once she turns sixteen, it's truly up to her. If you don't want her doing that at home, then make a rule."

"I shouldn't HAVE to make a rule like that!"

"You think me sleeping with Becky somehow disrespected you. And her, obviously."

"I do."

"Then, when she visits again, I'll find someplace else for us to stay if she wishes to share a bed."

"So your answer is always 'yes'? To any young woman who asks?"

"No, it's not. And honestly, if you think THAT about me, you don't know me very well at all. You know for a fact Becky hasn't been my only lover because you know Jocelyn and I went to Cincinnati together. But I don't say 'yes' to just anyone who asks. Far from it, and to the frustration of the girls. But for Becky, this is something the two of us want to do together."

"I'd prefer you didn't do it here."

"And if I should visit with my wife? Will we need to sleep in separate bedrooms?"

"Don't be flip, Mike."

"I just want to know what the rules are."

"There's a difference between what you're doing with Becky and being with your wife."

"So it's not sex, but the fact that Becky and I aren't married?"

Dad sighed and put down the chair leg, "Come on, Mike. You know it's true. I KNOW you know it's true."

"I do. I'm just curious where you draw the line. Engaged?"

"Mike, are you TRYING to make me angry?"

"You know I could ask you the same question about you harping on me and Becky for the past year. Discussing it once, maybe twice, I get. After that, well, it's too much. Do you really think I'll change my mind about it at this point?"

"I suppose not. Does Tasha know about you and Becky?"

"She knows Becky was here. The three of us went to lunch on Tuesday. In fact, every time Becky visits, we do something with Tasha. The same was true when Angie visited. And Tasha has come to see me in McKinley. Dad, I'm not hiding anything from anyone, but if you're suggesting I violate Becky's trust by saying she and I are sleeping together, I'm going to question how much you care about Becky."

"I didn't suggest that. I simply asked a question."

"And I answered. From now on, I'll find someplace else to stay so I don't offend you."

"Mike..."

"Sorry, that came out wrong. I meant if I'm going to engage in pre-marital sex."

Dad shook his head, turned back to his workbench, and silently began sanding the chair leg. I waited two minutes, and when he didn't say anything more, I went upstairs.

"How did it go?"

"About as badly as it could have," I said. "He disagrees with you allowing Becky and me to share my bed."

"I know."

"He also seems to have changed the rule of me asking you whether things are OK or not. I guess it's up to him now. And that means if Becky comes to visit, we'll have to stay somewhere else."

"I don't want that, Mike. I want you to feel welcome here."

"I don't know what to say. I don't think Becky is going to be happy with not being allowed to share a bed. It was her idea, after all."

"And you had to be dragged kicking and screaming?" Mom asked with an arched eyebrow.

"No, of course not! But she was the one who came on to me originally, and she's the one who insisted we sleep in my bed together. I agreed with her, both times, after we talked. Anyway, she'll probably come visit during the Summer, and I'll need to make alternate arrangements."

"Let me talk with your dad."

"I'm going to call Clarissa and Angie," I said.

"OK. I'll go down to talk to your dad so you can have some privacy with the kitchen phone."

"Thanks."

She went to the basement while I went up to my room to get my address book. I went back down to the kitchen and dialed Clarissa's number. I was happy when the male that answered, who I assumed was her dad, said she was home and called her to the phone.

"Hey, Lissa!" I said.

"Mike? Hi! And what's with 'Lissa'?"

"Sorry, it just seemed like a cute name."

"Don't apologize! I like it. What's up?"

"You remember my plan for Jocelyn's gift?"

"Sure."

"The box was left on my front porch sometime after we went to bed on Christmas night."

"Now that's harsh! Was there a note?"

"No. Just the opened box with the two stuffed bunnies."

"She opened it? That's even harsher. Wow! I mean, it's one thing to just return it unopened. But to open it and THEN return it? Wow."

"I think her parents might have insisted she open it," I said.

"Even so, returning it at that point is really outrageous."

"It's about as clear a rejection as I could imagine."

"That's what I was thinking. How are you?"

"OK, I guess. After church, I spent most of the day with Dale and Tasha, and that helped. But it was pretty much a kick in the guts."

"So now what?"

"Nothing, I guess."

"Well, I'm here if you want to talk more about it. Now or later, or even when we get back."

"Thanks, Lissa," I said.

"You're welcome," she said with a soft laugh. "Call me anytime. I mean it. Otherwise, I'll see you on Sunday."

We said 'goodbye', and I hung up, then dialed Angie's number. Our conversation was nearly identical to the one I'd just had with Clarissa, though Angie offered to drive to West Monroe. I thanked her but told her it wasn't necessary and that I'd be working all week anyway. When I hung up, I went up to my room, put a Mozart tape in my boombox, and lay on my bed.

December 27, 1982, West Monroe, Ohio

I didn't have to be at the hardware store until 10:00am, so I slept in, which was a rare thing for me. Mom and Dad had already left for work when I got up, so I had breakfast alone.

"What did you say to Dad?" Liz asked, coming into the kitchen as I was washing my dishes.

"Why?"

"He and Mom had a fairly heated discussion. I was surprised, really. Dad doesn't usually argue."

"How do you know?"

Liz laughed, "YOU told me about the vents!"

"I did, didn't I? He and I had a debate about Becky, and I said I'd find somewhere else to stay if she was going to come visit. I don't think Mom liked that. Dad was worried YOU would ask to have a boyfriend sleep over."

"The only man I ever plan to sleep with is Paul. Think Dad will let us visit once we're married?"

"I think Dad's going to lose his mind; that's what I think."

"At this point, I don't care, Mike. I love Paul, he loves me, and we're going to get married."

"I wasn't arguing with you," I said gently. "I was simply saying what was going to happen."

"And I don't give a flying fuck! I'm sure Dad thinks I'm banging every guy in school. He has no clue. But I can't tell him because he'd run to the cops and Family Services and anyone else on the planet who he thought could keep Paul in jail forever."

"All I can say is be careful."

"Mike, no matter what anyone says, Paul never ever abused me. He never hit me or even yelled at me. He was sweet and loving, and I told you I asked him to make love to me. I wanted to do everything I did with him."

"And you blame me for ratting you out," I said.

"No. I blame myself for not talking to you and not getting help after the Kramers and their friends raped me. I wish you and I had been closer, but I was such a bitch to you."

"I wasn't exactly the best brother."

"You were, Mikey. You really were. I just didn't let you be a good brother. I need you now. Well, I needed you before, too, I just didn't realize it."

"I love you, Liz. I'll do my best to help you in any way I can."

"Thanks."

"Did you work things out with Mindy?"

Liz laughed, "You could help..."

"Liz," I sighed, shaking my head.

"I'm TEASING! Mindy is coming over today. I made sure she won't be here until after you go to work."

"Thanks."

I took a shower and dressed, then headed to the hardware store. I greeted Mr. Orlov, put on my smock, and went to man the register, which was Sergei's usual job.

"Well, well, well," Janey said, coming over to the register.

"Hi," I said flatly.

"Oh, for Pete's sake," she said, shaking her head. "I was just surprised to see you."

"You didn't look at the work roster?"

"No. Are you working all this week?"

"Yes. 10:00am to 6:30pm. It's Sergei's shift."

"Cool. Pick me up at 7:00pm. We can have dinner."

"So we can spend all evening fighting? That's not my idea of a good time."

"Dinner and a movie. We can see The Verdict. I promise, no fighting."

"Let me think about it," I said.

Janey rolled her eyes and walked away. Given our track record, I was relatively sure that if we went out, we'd end up fighting because she'd want to fool around. She wasn't unattractive; in fact, she was cute and had a VERY nice figure. And she could be nice. It was just the 'full court' press that annoyed me. Under different circumstances, I WOULD have been interested, especially now that she was eighteen. But her aggressiveness was a turn-off, just as much as Mindy's was.

I didn't have plans for the evening, and Mom wasn't expecting me for dinner because they'd eat before I arrived home. I was seeing April and Chastity on Tuesday, had church on Wednesday, was going out with Dale on Thursday, and, for the moment, was free on Friday. As I rang customers' purchases, I contemplated whether or not I could trust Janey not to cause a fight.

"OK," I said when Janey came by the register just before noon.

"Don't sound like it's a death sentence!"

"Do you have to criticize EVERYTHING I do?" I asked in exasperation.

"I'm going to go back to work. See you at 7:00pm?"

I was tempted to say 'no' and blow her off, but I'd said I'd go out with her, so I agreed.

"Yes."

She left and went back to work while I manned the register. As I worked, I thought about how to handle the evening and decided I needed to be in a good mood and give Janey the benefit of the doubt in terms of her behavior. If I behaved in a nice, friendly manner and she picked a fight, I could then, in good conscience, take her home and end the 'date', though I wasn't seeing it as that.

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