Chapter 8: It Makes My Toes And My Nose Tingle

June 18, 1983, McKinley, Ohio

"Becky, this is my friend Milena; Milena, Becky."

"Hi!" Milena said. "I hope I'm not intruding."

"Hi," Becky replied. "You aren't. Mike told me you were going to hang out with us tonight."

"Do you drink wine?"

Becky laughed, "My pastor would have a cow, but he's not here!"

Milena laughed, "And shacking up with Mike, THAT would be OK?"

"Well, no!" Becky laughed, blushing slightly.

Milena uncorked the bottle of wine while I got three glasses from the wardrobe. She filled them, and we sat down, Becky and I on the loveseat and Milena on the couch.

"Just sip, Becks," I said quietly. "And only one glass, OK?"

"Isn't the point to get me drunk?" she teased.

"Somehow, I get the idea that Mike doesn't need to get you drunk to do THAT!" Milena teased.

"True! I had to talk him into it the first time!"

"Which, knowing Mike, took MONTHS!" Milena laughed.

"Yes, how did you know?"

Milena looked at me, and I nodded slightly.

"Same thing with me. My mom is a professor, and she's his guitar teacher. Mike and I sing together sometimes, and I had to hit on him for nearly TWO YEARS! And before you start to worry, I need Mike to help me re-center myself. He and I are not compatible the way you two might be."

"Re-center?"

"The boy, and I mean that, who I thought was my soulmate, moved away when I was fourteen. After he left, I totally avoided any kind of emotional attachment to any guy from then until now."

"But..."

"There are intimate relationships which aren't the kind of love that leads to marriage."

"I've told you about Clarissa," I interjected. "This is similar, though different. What do you think of the wine?"

"It's good, but it makes my toes and my nose tingle!"

"I thought that was Mike's job!" Milena teased.

"Um, that's other parts," Becky said, blushing deeply.

"She's perfect for you, Mike!" Milena laughed.

I leaned close to Becky and whispered in her ear. She blushed slightly and shook her head. I whispered again, she took a drink from her glass, giggled nervously, then nodded her head.

"I like her nice, tight pussy!" I grinned.

"And I like his big, thick dick!" Becky said, turning bright crimson.

Milena laughed so hard she spilled wine on her shirt and nearly fell off the couch. She barely managed to set the glass down without spilling it again, then got control of herself. Becky, meanwhile, gulped down the rest of her wine.

"There may be hope for you yet, Mike!" she said, still laughing softly. "I need to rinse my shirt, if that's OK?"

"Sure," I replied.

She got up and stripped it off, revealing her usual lace bra, then went over to the bathroom and used the sink to wash the wine from her shirt.

"I wish I had boobs like those," Becky said quietly.

"I like yours just fine," I replied. "They fit very nicely into my mouth!"

"I can't believe I said that in front of her!" she whispered fiercely.

"But you saw her reaction, right? It was perfect!"

"Are all your friends that free?"

"Most, but not all. Besides, she didn't show off anything more than she would if she was wearing a bikini."

"True, but I would never wear a bikini. And if I did, I don't have anything to show off."

"You're very wrong," I replied. "I think you have a very sexy body. They come in all sizes, and nobody has a monopoly on sexy!"

"I don't think so."

"Well I do! Have I complained about anything?"

"No, but maybe she does things for you I don't."

"Becks, don't compare. This isn't a competition; well, at least not that way. She's not even IN the competition that is happening — the one for my heart."

"And I am?"

"Very much so."

Milena came back out, shirtless, and walked over to my wardrobe. She grabbed one of my button-down shirts from a hanger and put it on, then came to sit back down.

"Comfy?" I asked.

Milena laughed, "Sorry. I just assumed. But I'm MUCH more comfy without clothes on!"

"That might be a bit extreme," I replied, shaking my head.

"Becky," Milena said, "I hope I'm not offending you; well, not too much."

"No, you aren't. It's just not something I've really seen. Central Michigan is really conservative."

"So is Taft!" Milena laughed. "You need to go to Ohio State or U Mich or Michigan State if you want really wild. And those are tame compared to party schools like Arizona or Florida."

"I'm not sure a place like that would have been good for me," Becky replied.

"Nor for me," I agreed.

"You went to Taft?" Becky asked Milena.

"I just finished my Master's. I'll be lecturing undergraduate music while I work on my PhD."

"What do you play?"

"Piano, flute, clarinet, and violin. Piano is my forte, if you will."

"Why do I sense there's a play on words there?" I asked.

"I know!" Becky quickly volunteered. "Piano is short for pianoforte, which means soft-loud."

"Very good!" Milena said with a smile. "And that comes from the Italian phrase, gravicembalo col piano e forte, which means 'harpsichord with soft and loud'. Basically, a harpsichord doesn't allow you to vary the volume while you play, hence the derivation of the name 'piano' for the new instrument. Do you play?"

"Organ and I also had a chance to learn to play a synthesizer. Have you seen one?"

"Both a Yamaha GX-1 and a Yamaha CS-80," Milena replied. "They're used by a lot of musicians, and ABBA actually brought a GX-1 on tour; Benny Andersson played it."

"I learned on the GX-1," Becky said. "I really want one of the new Yamaha DX-7s, which would be small enough to keep in my dorm room, but the list price is like $2000!"

"Mike can buy you one when he becomes a doctor!"

"Mike can buy her one when he becomes an Attending," I said. "So, ten years from now! I bet they have a new, less expensive model by then! But we're kind of getting ahead of the game!"

"Drat!" Becky said with a laugh.

"I think you actually have a good chance if you don't blow it," Milena said.

"I think I have a better chance if I DO blow it!" Becky teased, blushing again.

"I think she's had enough wine!" I chuckled.

"I think she's loosening up!" Milena said.

"That would make Mike sad!" Becky giggled.

"On second thought," Milena laughed, "I think you might be right, Mike!"

She split the rest of the bottle of wine between our two glasses, and I got Becky a 7-Up from the fridge.

"Bummer," she groused.

"You're tipsy."

"I'm actually really sleepy all of a sudden."

"Let's get you into bed, then," I said.

I took the bottle of 7-Up from her, put a rubber stopper in the top, then took her hand and led her to the bed. I helped her out of her jeans and T-shirt, then tucked her into bed. I turned off the main light in the room, then went back to sit on the couch with Milena, lit only by the small table lamp.

"She's sweet," Milena said. "And I see you took my advice."

"To consider a long-distance relationship? Yes, though we're nowhere near ready for that just yet."

"But you're thinking about it. May I ask a totally out-of-line question?"

"At this point? You may as well."

"Is the sex good enough that it will satisfy you?"

"She's not boring."

Milena laughed, "I think my definition of boring and your definition of boring might be different."

"Am I boring?"

"Conventional was what I said."

"So, boring."

Milena sighed, "In the context of that specific conversation, yes. But remember my context at that point. I would NOT call what we've been doing since then boring because it's a different context."

"Would you tell me the craziest thing you've ever done?"

"I think we might need a few more bottles of wine. Are you SURE you want to know?"

I nodded, "I do."

"Two guys at once, and I mean at once. One in front and one in back at the same time. Or one in front and one in my mouth at the same time."

"I suppose if I could be with two girls, you could be with two guys."

"I sort of expected you to freak out about that."

I shrugged, "I know the possibilities. There's nothing to freak out about."

"Maybe I should ask Deb to educate you!"

"Huh?"

"Do YOU with a strap-on dildo."

I laughed, "Thanks, but no! And no, I'm not freaked out by that, either, because Clarissa and I had a conversation with Robby and Lee for clinical investigative purposes."

Milena laughed, "'Clinical investigative purposes'? Seriously?"

"Basically, Clarissa and I were both curious because we'll encounter all kinds of things in a hospital with patients, and we wanted to hear about it from our friends, not some professor who's straight. It's why Clarissa and I talk about everything, too."

"May I say I'm impressed? I expected you to be uneasy with that kind of stuff."

"Two years ago, it would have given me the willies, and I don't think I could have discussed it, even in a clinical way. Now, it's just stuff my friends do."

"When you and Jocelyn were playing around with your book, did you?"

"No. We passed on light bondage, anal, and threesomes. Neither of us was interested in threesomes or bondage, and to be honest, the thought of anal sort of disgusted both of us."

"But you aren't disgusted now?"

"No, but I'm not interested, either. Conventional is OK with me. And, honestly, can you argue with me that closeness is at least as big a component as orgasms, if not bigger? After all, that was something you and Joel figured out, and then you rediscovered it with me. I've enjoyed our time together, and believe it or not, while I very much enjoy the sex, it's the closeness that matters most. Sex can't be the focus of the relationship, and if it is, there is something wrong with the relationship. Which is the very thing you've discovered."

It was the lesson Sophia had been trying to teach me as well. Sleeping together would not have helped me if it had been about sex rather than about closeness and comfort. That was something I'd discovered with Kristin, albeit inadvertently. Because she very much preferred slow and gentle lovemaking — a horizontal slow dance, as we called it — I felt closer to her than I had with the more athletic Sandy.

And that brought my thinking to Janey. She had actually tried for closeness by inviting me to 'play house' that day, but in the end, for whatever reason, she'd pushed back on my attempts to develop those feelings. I hadn't completely understood it at the time, but the way things developed with Milena had clarified things in my mind.

"A good point," Milena replied. "These last couple of weeks have been awesome. I suppose I should let you get to bed with Sleeping Beauty over there. You have to be up early for church, right?"

"Yes."

"She goes back to Michigan on Tuesday?"

"Yes."

"I'll come spend the night, OK?"

"Any time."

"Plan to come to dinner next Friday, too."

"I will."

We finished our wine, I rinsed the glasses, and Milena took off my shirt and put on hers, which was mostly dry. I walked her to the door, exchanged a soft kiss with her, then undressed and got into bed next to Becky, who barely stirred when I put my arm around her.

June 19, 1983, McKinley, Ohio

"Does wine make you feel that way?" Becky asked when we got out of bed on Sunday morning.

"Yes, but only after three glasses or so. That was the first time you've had any alcohol, right?"

"Yes. It made me totally light-headed, tingly, and sleepy! I'm sorry I didn't wake up when you got into bed."

"I tried not to wake you," I replied. "I don't eat breakfast on Sunday because I want to receive the Eucharist. There are Pop-Tarts on the shelf next to the toaster and apples and bananas in the fridge."

"You don't eat? Why?"

"Because we're supposed to fast between Vespers and the Eucharist, though given accommodations for modern life, our priests usually say midnight is the cutoff. But it's one of those things which depends on the individual, as well. Someone with diabetes or hypoglycemia or whatever would have a rule which took their disease into account. The same is true for age. Babies aren't expected to not eat for twelve hours or so before communion."

"And this is in addition to the other rules about eating?"

I nodded, "Remember, they aren't 'rules' like 'laws', but more like 'rulers' as in 'measuring sticks'. Perfection is the goal, and confession, together with the Eucharist, is the remedy for failures on my part because I'm weak. I need to hop in the shower."

I took a quick shower, then, while I dried and dressed, Becky took hers. Once she was dried and dressed, we sat down to wait for Angie.

"How can I learn more?" Becky asked.

"The best way is to go to church, but you're in the middle of Dutch Calvinist country, and I'm not sure there's a church close to where you go to school. I know there's an OCA church in Grand Rapids, but otherwise, we'd have to look in the parish directory at the church."

"Isn't there some book I could read?"

"The Orthodox Church by Bishop KALLISTOS is pretty good. We can go to the bookstore and get a copy for you. It's popular enough that most bookstores have a copy on hand. You can also get a basic prayer book from the church bookstore."

"You know, I never asked, but do you ever take off that cross you wear?"

"My baptismal cross? No. Never. Well, that's not quite true — each time I've needed a longer chain, I had to. And I'm pretty sure Mom pinned it to my clothes until I could walk, which is pretty common with babies. I'd have to ask her to be sure."

"Did your minister say anything last night?"

"Father Nicholas? Not really. I told him you were visiting from Michigan and that my parents had taken you in when all that stuff happened right after you moved to West Monroe. He saw you talking with Katy and Angie, which showed I'm not playing any games, so to speak."

"But you have to tell him we had sex, right?"

"In confession, I worry only about my sins, not anyone else's. No names are ever named."

"I just think it's weird to tell someone else about stuff like that."

"Father Nicholas knows my struggles and my weaknesses. But think about this — what are your options if you believe having sex is a sin? What would your church say about it?"

"That it's a sign of being reprobate and predestined to Hell."

"So, you're irredeemable, is that it? Once we had sex, it was all over for you? You're on a 'Highway to Hell', and there are no exit ramps? If so, why would you even THINK about having sex with me in the first place?"

"I don't know," Becky sighed. "I wasn't thinking about that at the time."

"So a moment of weakness means eternal punishment? I don't buy that for one second. The way my mom put it is that if I love God, I have to trust in Him to save me in spite of my own failings and shortcomings. God understands our weakness, which is a product of our mortality, and has provided confession and the Eucharist to help us with our daily struggles.

"Maybe I seem like a hypocrite, and maybe I am, but I knew my weakness, and I've confronted it and failed miserably. But what are my options? Give up and elect to go to Hell? Or do as much as I'm able to live a Christian life. I think the second option is the better choice. I'm a sinner, and I acknowledge that."

"So why keep doing it?"

"Because I'm weak. There IS a solution, but in my mind, that solution might actually lead to even worse sin."

"Which solution?"

"I could marry! As Paul says, it's better to marry than to burn. But marriage, right now, to you or Tasha or whomever, would likely lead to disaster. I'm not ready to marry. Are you?"

"No! I need to graduate first, obviously. Well, unless you want to transfer to Central Michigan!"

"That's impractical because of the tuition assistance I receive here, just as it's impractical for you to go to an out-of-state school. The other option is complete chastity. Are you signing up for that?"

"I like making love with you!"

"And therein lies the source of the difficulty we both have — the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. I know I sound like I'm making excuses, and maybe I am, but I've learned a lot about relationships, which I don't think I could have learned any other way. Part of the problem, if you will, is that modern society has changed so radically from ancient times that girls don't marry at fifteen and men don't marry at eighteen. Heck, you need a judge's permission in Ohio to marry if you aren't eighteen.

"But it's more than just the age; it's how long it takes us to prepare for a career — twelve years of school only scratches the surface, so to speak. You need four years just to complete your undergraduate degree and then whatever practical training is required to get your license. I need eight years of school, plus a year of Residency or Internship, depending on the program, to get my license, and even then, I can only work under the supervision of other doctors in a hospital for another two or three years. I could go into private practice as a GP a bit sooner.

"So what that means is my ability to provide for a wife and kids is severely limited until I'm in my late twenties. That wasn't true before the modern era. Heck, Abraham Lincoln taught himself law and became a lawyer without setting foot in law school. I don't think that's possible these days. And I'm not saying it's a bad thing, by the way, just that, as Jocelyn and I discussed a few years ago, the timing of marriage is difficult if you want some sort of professional career.

"This is the thing that the ladies at church — the ones I call «бабушки» (babushki), which is literally 'grandmothers', but refers to the older ladies in the church — try to solve by pairing couples during their teens. At least that way, from their perspective, the 'two who become one flesh' are headed towards the altar. In Russian custom, the girl moved from her father's house to her husband's father's house at betrothal. The formal wedding often took place later. Now, mostly the church does the betrothal ceremony sequentially with the crowning ceremony as a unified marriage ceremony."