Chapter 3: Endings and Beginnings

May 30, 1984, McKinley, Ohio

"Hi, Mishka!" Tasha exclaimed when she came into the Quick Mart on Wednesday morning.

We exchanged a chaste hug, and she asked me to call Mr. Sokolov, which I did. He promised to be at the store within ten minutes to let Tasha into her new apartment.

"He'll be here in ten minutes," I said. "Where are your parents?"

"It's just my mom. My dad decided not to take the day off work. Mom's waiting outside."

A couple of customers came to the counter, interrupting the conversation, and by the time I was done, Mr. Sokolov had arrived. Tasha went outside with him, and he was back about ten minutes later.

"If there are any concerns, Mikhail Petrovich, she'll tell you. Just make a note of anything unless it's an emergency, and then call me, please."

"Will do!"

He left, and when it was time for my break, I called Grace to the register to cover for me.

"Is THAT the girlfriend?" she asked.

"Ex-girlfriend," I replied. "I don't have a steady girlfriend at the moment. I'll be back in fifteen minutes."

Instead of putting my smock in the back room, I removed it, folded it, and stashed it behind the counter, then went out the front door, around the side of the building, and up the stairs to the apartment. The door was open, along with all the windows, and Tasha and her mom were busy cleaning.

"Anything I can do?" I asked. "I have fifteen minutes."

"Take my keys and bring the boxes from my trunk, please," Tasha said. "They're the heavy ones. Mom and I can easily get the rest."

It took me four trips up and down the stairs to move the boxes, which contained books, photo albums, and what I swore had to be bricks, as heavy as two of the boxes were. I stashed them in the corner of the large one-room apartment, as Tasha asked.

"I have five minutes," I said. "Anything else?"

"There's a folding screen, you know, like they use in Japan, which will hide my bed. It's in the back of mom's station wagon. If you bring that up, then all that's left are my clothes and toiletries."

I got the keys to the station wagon from Matushka Alexandra, went down to the street and saw the Antonovs' huge Caprice Classic station wagon into which I could probably fit my car twice over. I walked over, opened the rear gate, carefully pulled out the five-segment folding screen, which had a floral design, and leaned it against the side of the car. I closed and locked the rear gate, then picked up the screen and carefully manhandled it up the stairs into the apartment.

"Set it up about three feet from the bed, please," Tasha requested.

I carried it across the room and set it up as instructed. I checked my watch and, after a quick hug from Tasha, hurried back downstairs to resume work. Tasha came in just before my lunch break, and she and I went next door to the deli to get sandwiches.

"All set?" I asked.

"Yes!" she gushed. "My own place! Are you spending the night with me tonight?"

"If that is what you want, yes."

"It is, and it isn't, if you understand my meaning."

"Because it's the last time?"

Tasha nodded, "Yes. I'm going to talk to Nikolas on Saturday, so it has to be. Are you going to Vespers tonight?"

I shook my head, "I asked to be excused because I wanted to give you as much time as possible. And I was at the Vesperal Divine Liturgy for the Ascension last night."

"It's OK for Clarissa to have dinner with us, if you want. I'll cook."

"I'm sure she'd like that."

"Have you talked to Lara?"

"I called her last night," I said. "Just to say 'Hello'. They're leaving for Miami tomorrow afternoon, and the ship leaves on Friday morning."

"And Jocelyn?"

"I spoke with her on Monday night," I said. "She'll be here on Saturday to move into the dorms. That's when I need to move my things from Rickenbacker 8 to Rickenbacker 2 for the Summer."

"And Clarissa is living at Doctor Blahnik's, right?"

"Yes. She started her job on Monday, and she's doing volunteer work at the clinic on Saturdays."

"So starting this weekend, everyone will be here. I think we should have a regular time together. What do you think of Sunday evenings at my apartment?"

I grinned, "Me and three gorgeous women? I'm game!"

Tasha laughed softly, "One of whom is lesbian and one of whom will likely be spoken for!"

"You're just no fun, Tasha!" I teased.

"And will you say that tonight, Mishka?"

"I believe my life would be at serious risk if I were to say or even imply that!"

"Correct!" she said with a smile. "I think, too, after tonight, I should call you Mischa or Mikhail Petrovich."

I nodded, "I agree, Tashenka."

"You didn't call me that very often."

"I never saw you as a cute little girl, which is what that implies. You calling me 'Mikey' was pretty much what my sister had done for years and was endearing. But it was only ever you two who did that. Vladyka ARKADY uses 'Mischa', Clarissa uses 'Petrovich', and Jocelyn uses 'Mik'."

"And Larisa Sergeyevna?"

"Mike, usually. Her stepfather is very much American, and they don't use Russian at home at all, so Lara doesn't exactly have that kind of background. She speaks Russian better than I do, though."

"EVERYONE speaks Russian better than you do!" Tasha said mirthfully.

"Not my dad and sister," I grinned. "And I'm working on improving my Russian."

When we finished our sandwiches, Tasha walked me back to the Quick Mart. She gave me a quick hug, then headed to Kroger's to do her regular shopping and stock her new apartment with food. During my afternoon break, I went upstairs to check on her, and she poured a cup of tea for me. I realized, as I sipped the warm liquid, that I was going to miss the intimacy of my relationship with Tasha. It wasn't the sex, though, that was awesome, but the closeness that we'd developed. Her relationship with Nikolas, should it develop as we both expected, would limit just how close we could be.

When I finished work, I headed back to Doctor Blahnik's house to wait for Clarissa. When she arrived, I grabbed my overnight bag, and we walked to the State Liquor Store and bought a bottle of chilled white wine. With that in hand, we walked to the Quick Mart and up the stairs to Tasha's apartment. She let us in and offered us drinks, which we accepted. She refused our offers of help for making dinner, so Clarissa and I went to sit on the loveseat.

"How is your job, Clarissa?" Tasha asked as she stirred diced chicken in a skillet.

"I didn't realize just how many clueless people there are in the world! Honestly, if you can't fill out your financial aid forms correctly, you have NO business being in college in the first place! I'd be embarrassed to sign my name on some of these forms!"

"What is it you're doing?"

"Verifying that all the information from the application and the financial aid forms match, then entering them into the computer. I also have to verify that any male applicants have filled out the form certifying they registered for the draft. And assign student ID numbers to any incoming foreign students who don't have Social Security numbers. How about you?"

"I start Monday. I have training for a week, and I'll take pharmacy courses at Hayes County Junior College. I already know quite a bit from working with my dad."

"Tasha," I said, "I meant to ask — how did the hearing go?"

"Family Services submitted a new report which seems to have just removed the references to church but says the same thing — that they think Sasha is being pressured and isn't capable of making a free choice. According to our attorney, they've begun opposing every application for marriage for someone under eighteen they find out about, no matter what the circumstances."

I sighed, "This is one of those cases where the government just needs to butt out. What happens next?"

"The judge will make a ruling, but the attorney thinks it will be favorable because both Mom and Dad signed; Sasha very clearly said this is what she wants, and Yaroslav spoke as well. He also submitted his work records and pay information to prove he can support her and the baby."

"Does the fact that he's not the baby's biological father matter?" Clarissa asked.

"Not really. If he were the baby's father, then it might sway the judge, but it's not supposed to have any effect."

"When is her birthday?" Clarissa asked.

"October 2nd," Tasha said. "But she'll only be seventeen."

"You know," I said, "I could develop a serious dislike for Family Services."

"Dad thinks they do more harm than good because they interfere too much in parents' rights."

"I am sure they actually do a lot of good with actual abuse, but my personal experience with them is that they are too interested in finding a reason to interfere rather than actually investigating. It's like my experiences with the prosecutor and police — they cared only about finding something to charge me with, not on actually finding the truth or promoting justice."

"Listen to who's become political!" Clarissa teased. "A petition, a speech to Student Government, and now opining on government! Ladies and Gentlemen, the next Senator from the Great State of Ohio, Michael Peter Loucks!"

"Or, you can just shoot me now and put me out of my misery! I'll leave all of that to Melody!"

"The girl you dated when you were a Freshman?" Tasha asked.

"Yes. She's going to law school, and she'll be an attorney before Clarissa, Sandy, and I even graduate medical school!"

"Did you send in your applications?"

"The one for McKinley Medical School. The rest we'll put in the mail next week."

"Where?"

"UC, OSU, University of Pittsburgh, and Indiana University. But we'll get into McKinley for sure. We'll interview at the other schools if they invite us to, but only as backup options."

Tasha asked us to come to the small dinette table and served us each a plate with chicken, rice, and steamed carrots. I opened the bottle of wine and poured some for each of us, then said the usual prayers before meals, and we dug in.

"When do you propose to tell your dad about us?" I asked.

"On Saturday, I think. I'm going home to see Sasha and Vikusha."

"I wondered what her diminutive name would be," Clarissa said.

"Well, there are several, as usual!" Tasha replied. "'Viki', like in English, as well as 'Vitulya' or 'Vitusha'. And the short form would be 'Vika'."

Clarissa shook her head, "How you keep everyone's name straight amazes me!"

"But is it all that different, really?" I asked. "I'm Michael, Mike, Mikey, and Mik. And think about William, Will, Willy, Bill, and Billy, or Edward, Eddie, Ed, Ted, and Teddy. It's not really that different."

"Never mind!" Clarissa replied with a soft laugh. "It's like John and Jack, too."

"Exactly," I replied. "What do you plan to tell your dad?"

"That we spoke at length, examined what it would like to be married while you studied and trained, and how little time you would have for your family. Mom already knows."

"About everything?" I asked with a smile and an arched eyebrow.

"Not quite!" Tasha replied with a twinkle in her eye. "She has no details of where I asked you to put it or how big it is!"

I laughed hard, and so did Clarissa.

"You are BAD, Natalya Vasilyevna!" Clarissa declared.

"And Mishka will be reminded just how bad I can be once we finish eating and you go home!"

"I believe I remember," I grinned.

"Are you SURE, Mikhail Petrovich?"

"Suddenly, I think I should be scared!" I exclaimed.

"You should be!" Clarissa said, mimicking and paraphrasing Yoda. "You should be!"

We all laughed, then finished eating. Clarissa helped clean up, and when the dishes were done and put away, she hugged us both and left the apartment. Tasha locked the door, pulled down the blinds, and turned to me.

"No clothes for the next eleven hours!" she declared, unbuttoning her sundress and letting it fall away.

I needed no further encouragement and quickly removed my clothes as I watched Tasha remove her bra and panties, revealing her amazing body to me — a body I wouldn't see again once I left her apartment in the morning.

"What can I do for you?" I asked with a grin.

"I know the very last thing will be slow and gentle, showing each other how much we care for each other, but before that, I believe I'd like you to fuck me silly! And not just in the bed! On the couch, bent over the dinette table, in the shower, and wherever else we can!"

"What's gotten into you?!" I asked.

"Nothing just yet! But you know what I want and where I want it! And if you prefer one of those times to be VERY naughty, you may!"

I held out my arms, and Tasha melted into them, pressing her wonderfully sexy body against mine. I did as she asked and WAS very naughty when I had her bent over the dinette table. We moved from there to the shower and, eventually, to her bed, where we made slow, passionate love before falling asleep in each other's arms.

May 31, 1984, McKinley, Ohio

When I arrived back at Tasha's apartment after my run, we took a loving shower together, and she made us breakfast. When we finished eating, we came together in an embrace, which lasted about ten minutes before I had to go downstairs to start work.

"I love you, Mischa, and I always will."

"I love you, too, Tasha, and I always will."

We exchanged one final kiss, which was soft and sweet, and then I went downstairs and into the Quick Mart. I turned on the light, put on my smock, and let Grace in, and ten minutes later, we were open for business.

"I hear you're also an RA for the Summer at Taft," Grace said.

"Yes. And during the school year. Are you living at home or in the dorm?"

"The dorm. I talked my dad into it because the idea of living at home as a college student really bugged me!"

"I hear you on that one! Did you get your dorm assignment?"

"Rickenbacker 8."

I laughed, "Welcome to my floor!"

"No way!" she said. "Seriously?"

"Yes, but you'll be on the girls' side, obviously."

"Now, where's the fun in THAT?"

"Coed rooms might be a bit too much for the University administration to stomach," I chuckled.

"Too bad! What are you doing this weekend?"

"Church and I need to move my stuff from 8 to 2, and a friend of mine will be here for Summer session, so I'll hang out with her. And then I'm having dinner with a few friends on Sunday."

"Another 'not the girlfriend'?" she asked.

"You seem awfully interested in my relationships for someone I just met!"

"You seem to only have female friends!" she countered.

"That's not quite true — my best friend Dale went to UW-Madison, and my guy friends from school are away for the Summer."

"What church do you go to?"

"Saint Michael the Archangel Orthodox Church."

"What's that?"

"Russian Orthodox. Are you a Christian?"

"Sort of, I guess. We're Catholic but almost never go to church. Basically Easter, baptisms, weddings, and funerals."

"We're even more traditional and conservative than the Roman Catholic church."

"You're Russian?"

"On my mom's side. Her parents came over from Russia to escape the Communists. Sorry to be the ogre of a boss, but there's work to be done."

"Then buy me an ice cream some evening so we can talk."

I didn't want to be rude, but the LAST thing I needed at the moment was another girl in my life. That said, she was going to be on my floor, and that meant we'd have some interaction. I felt I could say yes, and so long as I didn't make any advances or flirt, I could be friendly. After all, I'd established the pattern of 'not the girlfriend' that she could fit neatly into.

"Ask me next week," I suggested. "I have plans tonight through Sunday."

"OK!" she said brightly.

We finished out the work day, and when Nancy relieved me, I went upstairs and retrieved my bag from Tasha's apartment, staying for a few minutes to drink some tea. We exchanged a chaste hug, and then I walked out of the apartment. Tasha closed the door behind me, closing a delightful chapter in my life. I walked to Doctor Blahnik's house, where I sat and talked with her while I waited for Clarissa to arrive, and once she did, she and I left the house to begin what she called our 'last date'.

We drove north to the steakhouse where I'd gone with Katy Malenkov on one of our early dates and enjoyed excellent steaks, baked potatoes with loads of butter, freshly steamed broccoli, and a dessert which could only be described as 'death by chocolate' — chocolate fudge layer cake with chocolate fudge icing, chocolate ice cream, and chocolate sauce. I figured if anyone tested my blood sugar, it would easily show not just 'diabetic', but 'dead'.

"That cake probably should be illegal," Clarissa said as we left the restaurant.

"No kidding! They should just provide a vial of insulin with every serving!"

We got into my Mustang, and I headed south towards McKinley. Clarissa was quiet, and I simply listened to the radio and contemplated, once again, what she'd said she wanted to do. Her reaction to our first lovemaking gave me pause, and I felt I had to say something.

"You know we don't have to do this, right?" I said.

"It's not about 'have to' but 'should'," Clarissa replied.

"You know I was somewhat uncomfortable last time because of how you reacted."

"You mean not talking to you and then not sleeping with you for a few days?"

"Yes," I confirmed. "And your hesitance or reluctance or whatever you want to call it, combined with the lack of physical reaction."

"But you made sure I had two very good orgasms, even if it didn't happen while you were inside me."

"Yes, but it just felt, well, weird, I guess."

"If I were straight and nervous and couldn't orgasm from my first intercourse but could from oral pleasure, would you feel weird?"

"I suppose not."

"Has that happened to you before?"

"No."

"And even so, you knew the right thing to do — ensure that your partner had orgasms, even if it meant orally pleasuring her after you ejaculated into her."