Chapter 10: Stop And Smell The Roses

July 1, 1983, McKinley, Ohio

"Are you OK?" Clarissa asked on Friday morning as we lay in bed together.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"You seemed a bit out of sorts last night. Did that kiss bother you?"

I smiled, "Not the way you mean. It was just, well, to be blunt, fighting a reaction. And losing."

Clarissa laughed softly, "I know. I felt it when I spooned. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I liked the kiss. The other reaction is kind of involuntary. As I keep saying, testosterone knows NOTHING about lesbianism!"

"Neither does my heart," she sighed. "I very much like kissing you, but..."

"Please don't apologize for who you are, Lissa. I love YOU! And that means the whole package. I wouldn't change anything!"

"Because you don't think the straight Clarissa would be your 'Lissa'?"

"Exactly. And no matter what the personal cost, I will never do anything to hurt you!"

"Oh, you will, but it'll be because you're a guy and a «глупец» (glupys), but you won't mean it. And you'll tearfully apologize. And I'll accept your apology. And we'll move on, forgetting it ever happened." ("blockhead")

"An interesting set of confidences — confident I'll mess up, but confident I'll fix it when I do."

"I couldn't be this intimate with anyone I didn't feel that way about. We'll all mess up at one time or another. We show our character in how we handle that. Do you know my biggest fear?"

"Given that you're asking, I'm going to assume I don't."

"That I'm going to mess up as a doctor, and someone is going to die because of my mistake."

I nodded, "That's mine, too. Well, no, that's not true. I do have a bigger one."

"What's that?"

"Losing you."

"Maybe..." Clarissa began, but her voice hitched, and she stopped speaking.

I shook my head, "Please, don't. I wrecked my relationship with Jocelyn that way. I'm not doing that twice."

"I'm not her," she replied quietly.

"I know, but the risk ... the risk is too great, and I'm not sure we could survive if you reacted badly."

"But you recognize the problem the other way, right? That we can't be like this if you're married."

"The proverbial 'no-win scenario'," I sighed. "Damned if we do and damned if we don't."

"Kobayashi Maru," Clarissa agreed.

"I've wondered what the alternative course would look like? You know, abandoning the Kobayashi Maru? It avoids a war with the Klingons, and fits with Spock's sacrifice and his statement that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few or the one."

"I suppose the Klingons could still use it as a 'provocation' or maybe the Enterprise crew mutinies because the captain abandoned civilians to a certain death?"

"Mutiny? I can't imagine that, at least not in the Trek universe. And maybe it isn't even the real Kobayashi Maru. What if it was destroyed and the message faked to draw the Federation into invading? You know, like the 'false flag' stuff the Germans did with Poland? But none of that applies here."

"Maybe that was a bad example of the 'no-win scenario' because I think you're right. The correct move is to think of the overall good, not the individual good, and so it isn't REALLY a 'no-win' scenario. Maybe ours has a solution we haven't thought of."

"Maybe," I sighed.

"What about Kirk's solution? Change the rules so we can win?"

"I'm not sure there IS a rule we could change. Can we, for now, just put that issue away for the future?"

"Yes."

"I think we should get up and have breakfast," I replied. "Do you want to shower first? Or should I?"

"Together isn't an option?" Clarissa asked impishly.

"A bad idea."

"May I ask you something? And I mean this question seriously."

"You can ask me anything, Lissa."

"Would you really be that uncomfortable being naked around me?"

I chuckled, "I know you want a serious answer, but it would depend on how you defined 'uncomfortable'!"

"I suppose it's different from a clinical situation."

"You think?" I asked with a grin, "And it's different from, say, April breastfeeding Chastity."

"Don't you think you could become," she smirked, "comfortable, eventually?"

"Yes. But showering together would be out of the question. It's just too much."

"You know I trust you completely, Petrovich."

I smiled, "I know, but I don't trust ME. Well, my thoughts, not my actions. I'd never hurt you."

She moved to kiss my nose, then got out of bed and went into the bathroom, closing the door most, but not all, of the way. I wanted a solution to our dilemma in the worst possible way, but not at the risk of destroying what we had. I'd done that with Jocelyn, and there was no way I was going to make the same mistake twice. Even the French kisses concerned me, but I could handle them.

The problem, in my mind, continued to have a simple, obvious solution, which was also categorically wrong. Having found the girl I truly wanted to spend the rest of my life with, I'd concluded that I couldn't marry her. And that presented the problem we'd just discussed in a roundabout way — could I find a spouse who would accept my relationship with Clarissa, even with the obvious necessary modification of not sleeping in the same bed.

Clarissa finished in the shower and came out with a towel wrapped around her. I got out of bed and went into the bathroom, closing the door most of the way just as she had. I quickly showered, dried off, then wrapped a towel around myself. I went out to the bedroom, pulled on a pair of underwear, then dropped the towel and put on lightweight sweatpants and a T-shirt. Clarissa, who was dressed similarly, followed me out of the room and to the kitchen.

"Good morning!" Doctor Blahnik exclaimed. "There are eggs and bacon in the oven keeping warm for you, Clarissa. Mike, there's fruit in the fridge, along with toast, which is in the oven. There's jam and marmalade in the fridge as well. And there is orange juice."

"Thanks for remembering," I replied.

"Thank Milena! She's the one who reminded me; she'll be back down in a moment."

Clarissa and I fixed our breakfast and had just sat down at the table when Milena returned. She poured coffee for all of us, then sat down next to her mom.

"Any plans for the day?" Milena asked.

"No," I replied. "Nothing beyond hanging out."

"OK. If you go out, there's a house key hanging on the hook next to the pantry. I was thinking of having some friends over tonight. You two are welcome to join us. It won't be a party, just a small group of friends hanging out, listening to music, and drinking some wine."

"Lissa?" I asked.

"That sounds good," she replied.

"Who do you plan to invite?" I asked.

"The ones you know for sure would be Deb, Laurie, Jennifer, and Blaine. I'll invite Jon, Royce, and Mark as well. They were at my last party. That gives us ten, evenly mixed."

"I'll be out with Derek this evening," Doctor Blahnik interjected. "So you won't have to worry about the 'old folks' cramping your style!"

"Somehow, I don't see that being the case," I said with a smile.

"Don't encourage her!" Milena protested, but she was laughing.

"I wish my parents were half as cool as your mom!" Clarissa declared.

"Stop!" Milena demanded, still laughing. "You'll make it worse!"

"Well, if this is bad, I'll take it!" Clarissa responded.

"Thank you, Clarissa," Doctor Blahnik said with a silly smile.

We finished breakfast, and Clarissa and I went back to the bedroom to make up the bed and put our wet towels in the laundry room, then decided to go for a walk. As soon as we were outside, Clarissa slipped her hand into mine, and we walked quietly around the neighborhood of tree-lined streets.

We walked for nearly an hour without a word, returning to an empty house. We went to the music room, and I chose from the selection of classical music and put a collection of Mozart concertos on the turntable, carefully lowered the arm, and then went to sit with Clarissa.

"You're awfully quiet," Clarissa said.

"I could say the same about you," I replied. "I was just enjoying the quiet time together."

"Usually, when you're this quiet, you're deep in thought."

"Usually, but not this time. I was just enjoying our walk."

"A time to 'stop and smell the roses'?"

"Something like that. Enjoying the moment. I wonder if we should do things like that more often? You know, go someplace peaceful and relaxing and just be together."

"Stress relief?" she asked with a silly smile.

"Yes, but not the way you mean! It's kind of like when I go to church, I guess."

"That is when you're at your most peaceful."

"I was today, too. That's why I suggested walks like this, but someplace where we don't have any distractions. I think during medical school, it's going to be important for both of us. I don't think church has that effect on you."

"Surprisingly, it does, though probably not the same way or for the same reasons as it does for you. For me, it's the beauty of the building and the service, not prayer or anything like that."

"Can I tell you a secret?"

"Sure."

"That's what makes me peaceful — the icons, the oil lamps, the incense, and the woodwork. It gets me into the right state of mind, and that's what allows me to pray in peace. The hymns and chanting only enhance that."

"Weird. So it's not God?"

"Ah, but it is! God's energies work in and through everything and everyone. The nave IS the throne room of God, where we worship surrounded by the great crowd of witnesses, manifested through the icons. You really find it peaceful?"

"I do. I'll go to church with you tomorrow night and Sunday morning if you want."

"You know I have to serve in the altar, right?"

"Sure. But I can stand with Katy, right?"

"Yes. Are you going for you? Or for me?"

She smiled, "For us. This is such a big part of your life that I want to participate in it. Not every time, but sometimes."

"What's your dad's name?"

"James."

"You're an amazing person, Clarissa Yakovovna!"

"Jacob?"

"Yes. James in English would be Jacob in Russian, Greek, and so on. It came to English via Latin and French."

"How do you know that?"

"When we have converts, usually someone who marries in, we have to find who their patron is. If a name isn't a saint's name, our usual practice is for them to take a saint's name."

"Clarissa?"

"Do you know what it means?"

"Bright, like a light."

"Then I'd go for Svetlana, which would be Photini in Greek. She's the Samaritan woman at Jacob's well in John 4. So, you are Svetlana Yakovovna Saunders."

"What happens to my middle name?"

"It wouldn't be used if you used the Russian style I just did. Consider it similar to Michael Peter Loucks. What IS your middle name?"

"Nicole. My grandmother's name."

"Michael, well Mikhail, is my grandfather's name."

"So I'd be Svetlana Yakovovna Loucksa?" Clarissa laughed.

"IF we were to marry, yes. Though technically, a name such as Loucks wouldn't have the 'a' added."

"What does Loucks mean, anyway?"

"It's a form of the Dutch name Lodewijk, which is «Ловик» (Lovik), or Louis. So, if we Russified it, you would be Svetlana Yakovovna Lyudovika. But I don't recall proposing!"

"A girl can propose, you know!"

"Are you proposing?"

"No," she replied with a soft laugh. "But that was a fun conversation. What's your mom's family name?"

"Borodin."

"So 'Borodina'?"

"Yes. Rahil Mikhailovna Borodina."

"So what would my intimate name be?"

"'Sveta' or 'Lana', but I REALLY prefer Lissa."

"How would I say something cute? You know 'my little dumpling' or something like that?"

I laughed, "I don't think I've EVER heard anyone called a dumpling! The usual Russian words would be the equivalent of 'kitten' or 'little bunny rabbit'. And depending on form, those can be used for guys or girls."

"Can you teach me?"

I nodded, "«Котёнок» (katyonak) — that means 'kitten' or 'pussy cat', and is something I would say to you. «Котик» (Kotyk) is the equivalent, and what you would say to me."

I spent five minutes teaching her the proper pronunciation of the words, then moved on to another set.

"«Зайка» (Zayka) means 'bunny' or 'honey bunny', and that's what you would say. «Зайчик» (zaychyk) means almost the exact same thing, though in the diminutive, and I would say it to you."

I taught her those as well.

"How about 'I love you'?" she asked.

"«Я любл тебя» (Ya lyublyu tebya)," I replied.

Once again, we spent several minutes while I taught her, saying the phrase back and forth.

"What's with the newfound love of Russian?" I asked.

"I love a Russian!" she smirked. "But I also want to know the code! If you marry Tasha, I suspect there will be a lot of Russian used in your house."

"Probably, yes. But I don't think it's all that important for my kids to learn Russian. I'm not opposed, but as Russian as I might seem to outsiders, I'm really an American. Tasha is basically one generation behind — she's more like my mom, while her dad is like my grandfather, though my grandfather has Americanized seriously since I was born. And just to continue down that line, my mom's best friend married a Greek guy, and their kids only speak English."

"So you don't care?"

"I care about some of my Russian traditions, sure, but language? We live in the US, so we speak English. If I lived in Mexico, I'd speak Spanish. That's actually the Orthodox way of doing things — we didn't force everyone to learn Greek; we translated everything into the local languages right from the start. Heck, the Russian alphabet was invented by students of Saints Cyril and Methodius for the purpose of bringing the Faith to the Russian people. That's why the script is called 'Cyrillic'. Rome used Latin for their mass all the way up to the 1960s. We always used the local language of the people because it made the Liturgy, and thus the Gospel, more accessible."

"Sophia said the services in her church are in Greek."

"Generally speaking, that's wrong, but if the congregation is Greek-speaking, it MIGHT be OK. Some of our churches have the Liturgy, at least partly in Slavonic, but mostly, that's going away as people in my grandparents' generation pass away. The bottom line is that it's really hard to do evangelism in Russian or Slavonic while living in the US!"

"But you don't preach!"

"Don't I?" I grinned.

"OK, not like the idiot who runs around campus threatening 'hellfire' and 'damnation' for sinners."

"Does THAT sound like 'good news'? That is what 'Gospel' means, and an evangelist is a messenger who brings good news."

"May I say it sounds like everything is upside down?"

"You may. And that's more true than you know. But explaining that would get into 'dual procession' and a whole host of other theological stuff I don't think you care about!"

"So, what are we doing for the rest of the day before the party?"

"I'll leave that up to you," I replied.

"Cuddles?"

"Of course!"

We spent the rest of the day cuddling, talking, and listening to music, interrupted only by eating lunch. Milena and her mom returned for dinner, and Derek joined us as well. After dinner, we quickly cleaned up, and Doctor Blahnik and Derek left for the evening. A few minutes later, Milena's friends arrived, and we all went to the music room, where Milena opened several bottles of wine.

It was a quiet, fun evening, and Clarissa and I both enjoyed ourselves. Milena's friends were a really good group, and I wasn't surprised that Laurie and Jennifer behaved very differently from the way they had in the past. I was sure, and some indirect comments confirmed, that Milena had asked them to back off. Even when we danced, they were very well-behaved.

The party broke up at about 1:00am, and Clarissa and I went to bed.

"I should have stayed here over the Summer," she said, snuggling close.

"I really enjoyed today. No studying. No class. No work because Mr. Sokolov gave me the day off. No obligations of any kind except to spend time with you."

"I think what we said earlier is important — we have to find time to have days like this, even in medical school. Otherwise, we're going to burn out. And Internship and Residency are going to be worse."

"Finding time to sleep is going to be tough that first year of Residency, but I agree with you on needing to relax."

"I like sleeping with you," Clarissa said, sighing deeply.

She moved up and put her face directly in front of mine and looked me deeply in the eyes. She moved forward until our lips just touched, held that for a few seconds, then moved back just a bit.

"I love you, Petrovich."

"I love you, too, Lissa."

She put her head on my chest, and a few seconds later, I felt dampness and then heard a soft sob.

"Lissa, what's wrong?" I asked cautiously.

"Someday, this is all going to end ... and I don't want it to."

Neither did I, but there were no good solutions. I gently stroked Clarissa's hair, wondering how I'd managed to get myself, once again, into a relationship situation which could only have bad outcomes in one form or another. Clarissa and I had become closer than any other girl in my life, except perhaps Jocelyn, and yet there was a gaping chasm between us.

I felt that any attempt to cross that chasm would end in disaster, much the way things with Jocelyn had ended. And there really wasn't anything I could say to soothe Clarissa, either, because she was right — what we had simply did have to end because eventually I'd get married. I'd turned it over in my mind repeatedly and continued to come to the same conclusion.

After a few minutes, the soft sobbing subsided, replaced by gentle breathing. Clarissa had cried herself to sleep, but my mind was in such turmoil that sleep didn't come to me for quite some time.