Chapter 26: Reconciliation?

July 29, 1985, McKinley, Ohio

"I'm going to take off work tomorrow morning so I can go see Doctor Mercer," Tasha said after she invited us back inside. "I don't want Nik to know I'm talking to her."

"I have to leave that to you to decide," I replied. "But keeping things from your spouse is a good way to create distrust. Think about what happens when he finds out you spoke to her after the fact?"

"And if he tells me not to go see her?"

"Then you have to decide which option is more likely to save your marriage," I said. "I guess I don't see how it can get any worse. Well, that's not quite true — it could get worse if he makes a public stink about it. I don't think he will, given his nature."

"What do you think he'll do?"

"To be honest, what Joseph intended when he discovered the Theotokos was pregnant by the Holy Spirit.

"A quiet divorce?" Tasha asked, a mix of fear and sadness in her voice.

I nodded, "Yes, though what grounds he'd offer the bishop, I have no idea. A secular divorce won't help if he wants to continue to receive Eucharist."

"Tasha," Elizaveta said, "I know what Mike said before about keeping things from Nik, but I think it's very important that you never let him know you sought out Mike's advice."

"You're both right," Tasha sighed, a tear dripping down her cheek. "I've made a complete mess of things."

"Mike," Elizaveta said. "Would you step out?"

"Sure," I replied. "Twenty minutes?"

"That should be enough."

I went back out of the apartment and down the steps to the street. I decided the best thing to do was walk over to the Taft campus. I felt very much out of place in my ryassa and cassock, but I hoped, eventually, I'd be comfortable with wearing them. I drew some odd looks as I walked around campus, but they were from people I didn't recognize.

"Mike?!" a female voice called out.

I turned to see Mindy Ellison coming out of the Administration building.

"Hi, Mindy," I replied.

"I guess from the getup you were ordained?"

"Yesterday," I replied. "What are you doing here?"

"Working in the Admissions Office over the Summer. Do you have to wear that everywhere?"

"The black outer cassock is like a coat or jacket — I take it off when I go inside under most circumstances. The blue inner cassock, which you really can't see, I wear all the time, and that will include under my white medical coat."

"What are you doing here?"

"My wife is talking with a friend and wanted some privacy, so I'm taking a walk. I'm actually about to head back, though the long way."

"OK. I hear you're giving a concert at orientation."

"Yes, José and I are doing our regular thing, and the band will do a few songs."

"So cool! See you in a few weeks, then!"

She went on her way, and I continued my walk around campus, ending back at Tasha's apartment about twenty minutes after I'd left. Tasha had to leave to get back to work, so we all said 'goodbye', and then Elizaveta and I got into my Mustang to head to the stationery store.

"What do you think?" I asked.

Elizaveta considered a moment before she replied.

"I think the basic problem is that anyone who might talk to Nik is, uhm, tainted, I guess, because they're your friends or are brother clergy. Technically, even Doctor Mercer is your friend, but Tasha doesn't need to reveal that fact."

"Doctor Mercer was at our wedding with her husband. I'm positive Nik saw her."

"Oh! I hadn't thought about that! But I do think you're right that Tasha should go see her and that she has to tell Nik. Anyway, what I was going to say, and the thing with Doctor Mercer reinforces it, is that you need to talk to Nik."

"I don't see how that can help," I replied. "It might make things worse."

"Worse than him divorcing Tasha and citing your relationship with her as the reason? And the things you did in private with her? I'm not sure it can get worse than that!"

"Can we set that aside for a moment?" I asked.

"You want to know how I feel?"

I had an inkling that a bit of levity would actually be a good thing.

"I know how you feel, Kitten, and I love it! And the betrothal rings are working as they should, totally in your favor!"

"Good!" she replied mirthfully. "But the question was serious."

"I know, and the answer is 'yes', obviously."

"First, I want you to know that Tasha confirmed what you said — that she effectively dragged you into bed, and she was the one who proposed everything you did together. I guess what bugs me is that if you could resist Tasha for three years, why did you have such difficulty resisting other girls who wanted to be with you? I mean, seriously, she's gorgeous and sexy and has a body to die for!"

"Second, compared to yours," I replied.

"If that's a 'husband' answer, it's meaningless."

"I disagree that 'husband' answers are meaningless," I countered. "But, it's not a 'husband' answer — I think you are superior to Tasha in every way. There is no contest. AND you have the added benefit of being my wife."

"Thank you," Elizaveta beamed. "But you need to answer the question."

"The 'weakness' answer is kind of BS, really, when it comes right down to it."

"Of course it is! You wanted to be with all of those girls and decided to do it, knowing it was wrong."

"Yes."

"And that's why you could resist Tasha?"

I shook my head, "No. I could. One of my friends pointed out the pattern — before I was with Tasha, and after, the general pattern was those girls who I believed I might marry, I didn't sleep with."

Elizaveta shook her head, "That actually makes it WORSE!"

"Oh, I know," I sighed. "And to turn a phrase and be a bit silly, I've made my bed, and now I have to lie in it."

"Only with me!" Elizaveta exclaimed, but her tone wasn't accusatory or angry.

"Yes, Kitten, only with you."

"I guess I agree with Tasha that your behavior was disgusting, and honestly, it's a bit frightening because it seems all a girl had to do is offer to spread her legs, and you were happy to get between them."

"I completely understand your feelings, and I can't really argue with you."

"Did you EVER turn any girl down? Truthfully?"

"None that I was truly attracted to, no. But there were some, as we discussed."

"So why turn them down? I mean, they were offering pussy, and it seems that's all you cared about."

"I know it seems that way, but it's not true. That was all I cared about. It's also true that I turned down a number of offers because I wasn't attracted to the girl."

"So you'd only fuck hot girls?"

"Attraction doesn't only mean looks," I replied. "I'm attracted to you for other reasons in addition to you being gorgeous; in fact, those other reasons are WAY more important. WHO you are, in your heart, is what truly matters."

"So why turn them down?"

"The reasons really were on a case-by-case basis. But there was always something that turned me off or gave me pause."

"So you just treated those girls who you wouldn't marry as, well, I won't use a word I know you hate, playthings?"

I nodded, "I guess ... no, I know that I couldn't behave that way with a girl whom I was going to marry. While I have to qualify this statement a bit, the first time with my wife would have to be our wedding night."

"And, of course, your wife couldn't think that way, could she? I mean that it was OK to have sex until she found the guy she wanted to marry."

"No," I admitted, "she couldn't. It's a double standard, obviously."

"Obviously," Elizaveta replied dryly but without any accusatory tone in her voice.

"So?"

"What did you say before? I've made my bed, and now I have to lie in it? Well, that's the bottom line for me, and given I want to be your wife, I simply have to accept your past if I want a future with you. Tasha made a very good point in that nothing I can ever do will change things, and that you're properly repentant for what you did. Christian love requires I forgive you but also that I do what's necessary to help you not fall, and that's especially true now that you've been ordained."

"I love you."

Elizaveta smiled, "I know, but I love to hear you say it."

"Which I probably don't do often enough," I admitted.

"Words aren't the only way to say 'I love you'!"

"You're very wise for sixteen."

"I'm Russian."

And that really did say it all.

July 30, 1985, McKinley, Ohio

"Nik, it's Deacon Michael," I said, knowing just how badly this call could go.

"What do you want?" he asked tersely, his voice conveying serious anger.

"To speak to you privately, without my cassock, so we can simply be open and honest with each other."

"I don't believe I have anything to say to you, nor do I think anything you have to say is relevant."

I knew the next thing I had to say had the potential to set him off, but I felt it was the only way to get through to him.

"We both care for Tasha, and she's hurting right now."

"Which is YOUR fault," he said angrily.

I didn't feel that was true, given the totality of the circumstances, but arguing with him wasn't going to improve the situation in any way.

"I take full responsibility for my actions, which were fully and accurately confessed to the best of my ability. I received absolution and accepted penance for my sinful behavior. Tasha did as well. I make no excuses for my inappropriate behavior. I simply want to help Tasha."

"I don't believe she needs your 'help'."

The intonation of 'help' made the word almost into a curse.

"She actually sought out Matushka Elizaveta for help," I replied. "I provided the name of a secular counselor who I believe can help."

"Of course you direct her away from the priest! You need to protect your position!"

"I have no position to protect," I replied. "I didn't seek ordination, and I serve only at the pleasure of the bishop. I won't act in any way to defend what I've done other than to say that I have confessed and repented and that I acknowledged to His Grace that I was sinful, albeit with no specifics, which are meant to be between me and Christ, with the priest as a witness. You hold the future in your hands, Nikolas Dmitriyevich. If you elect to divorce Tasha because of repented sin, that is your choice. If you elect to complain to Father Nicholas or Vladyka ARKADY, that is also your choice. I ask you to keep Tasha's best interest in mind and, secondarily, the best interest of the parish. My interests are irrelevant."

"And yet they align perfectly with the first two."

"Yes, they do. If the price for you reconciling with Tasha is for me to ask to be laicized, all you need do is say the word. I just ask you to allow me to make the request privately to not bring scandal upon the church or, in many ways worse, on Tasha. I'll immediately go to the bishop and ask, if that's what you want."

"I don't believe you."

"May I suggest you ask Tasha or, perhaps better, the secular counselor she told you about? I'll give permission for Doctor Mercer to disclose anything she knows about my feelings about my ordination. I would rather have you and Tasha reconcile and be happily married than be a deacon. I don't even have to think about that decision for two seconds. Tasha will be a wonderful wife and wonderful mother to your children. I don't believe you should cast that away because of past sin for which she has been absolved."

"And if it were YOUR wife?" he asked snidely.

"It would be highly hypocritical of me to hold anyone to a higher standard than the one to which I hold myself. May I point out that Tasha was honest with you about the situation? And that you asked her to marry you knowing she had sinned in that way?"

"As if that excuses YOU!"

I took a deep breath and carefully let it out so as not to sound as if I was sighing or showing any signs of exasperation. He was treating Tasha's virginity exactly as my dad treated my mom's — as something rightfully his, which had been stolen from him even before he knew her. I saw pictures of my parents in my mind and wondered if Nik would carry that grudge for life the way my dad did. I suspected he would, and that meant any relationship with Tasha and Nik could never be anything more than cordial unless and until he overcame that grudge.

"As I said," I replied, keeping my voice calm and even, "I make no excuses for my sinful behavior. All I want is what's best for Tasha. If I may, I would point out that my wife is equally upset with me over my behavior in this regard. We've discussed it and come to a place where we can work forward.

"All I'm asking for is that you find it in your heart to forgive the sins which Tasha has committed so that she might have 'no further care'. If the price for you reconciling with Tasha is me requesting laicization, then I'll do that immediately, just as I've said. All I ask is that you put Tasha's happiness, her reputation, and her welfare ahead of everything else, including your own happiness and welfare. That is what we are called to do as husbands."

Not to mention the OTHER obvious benefit of being married to Tasha, which I could not mention. He was quiet for a time, so I decided to speak once more.

"Nik," I continued, "please, for Tasha's sake, speak to her and do what you can to make her happy. If you want to be angry with me, I accept that."

But what I would NOT do was apologize to HIM for having sex with Tasha. That played right into the false belief that Tasha was property, or more specifically, that Tasha's hymen was HIS property, which it most decidedly was not.

"I'll think about it," he replied grudgingly.

"Thank you."

We said 'goodbye', and I hung up. I went to the small bedroom where Elizaveta was working on making my new cassocks.

"How did it go?" she asked.

"About the way I expected and about as well as could be expected. I tried to focus on Tasha's interests. I did offer what I told you I was going to offer."

Elizaveta shook her head, "I don't think you should let him hold your ordination hostage to something you confessed and for which you received absolution. MY difficulties with your past behavior are different because I have different concerns. I can't imagine he believes there's any risk for Tasha to violate the wedding compact."

"But there is for me?"

"Don't you think that's obvious? I mean, twenty-two before me? What's one more?"

"A direct violation of what you called the marriage compact," I replied.

"And yet, you admitted that Father Nicholas remains concerned."

I nodded, "I did."

"Which is why I told you it's part of my commitment to our marriage to do everything in my power to help you in that regard. What do you think Nik will do?"

"I honestly don't know. Unfortunately, he has the same idea that my dad has, which is that I, in effect, stole something which belonged to him."

"Oh, please!" Elizaveta huffed. "Tasha basically forced it on you! You strongly and purposefully resisted! For years!"

"Obviously not long enough," I replied.

"Obviously," she replied in her usual dry manner. "What now?"

"We wait. I suppose you can ask Tasha when the two of you have lunch tomorrow."

"I'm guessing they won't be coming to our dinners with Mark and Alyssa."

"I'd say you're right, at least in the short term and maybe in the long term."

"What about inviting Serafima and Elias as regulars?" Elizaveta suggested.

"I think that's fine. Don't do that just yet — let's see what happens."

"You expect them to cancel, right?"

"Yes," I replied, nodding, "though that creates a potential situation where Father Nicholas asks why they aren't attending."

"You've created a real mess," Elizaveta said. "I think, maybe, your answer about impediments is no longer accurate."

I sighed, "I think you might be right. Do you think I should go to His Grace?"

"Don't you think laicization would cause even bigger problems? The gossip and speculation could destroy the parish!"

"Yes, it could, which is why I'm not going to do anything until Nik decides."

"You know," Elizaveta giggled, "if he just let Tasha continue to blow his mind ... and everything else ... the problem would go away!"

I chuckled, "I had the same thought, but there was no way I could say it to Nik."

"Of course, going back to what I said about my commitment to our marriage, and helping you, perhaps I could suck you, and then you could screw me silly?"

"Perhaps," I grinned.

"Let's go to bed," Elizaveta said invitingly.

I didn't need a second invitation.

July 31, 1985, McKinley, Ohio

"If your plan is to keep me worn out, it's working!" I said on Wednesday morning, lying on top of my wife, with whom I'd just made love upon waking up.

"It does have some very nice benefits!" she giggled, squeezing her internal muscles around my still-hard shaft.

"What's the plan for today besides your lunch with Tasha and Vespers this evening?"

"Well, we should eat breakfast, but otherwise, we can just stay in bed until I have to shower before I leave for lunch!"

"And this afternoon?" I asked, knowing full well what her idea would be.

"I was going to work on your cassock, but I could be persuaded to spend it in bed!"

"Persuaded," I chuckled. "Right."

"Your tongue is VERY persuasive on my body!" she giggled.

"And yours on mine!"

"How about we eat breakfast and then each other!"

"Deal!" I agreed.

I gently pulled out of my wife and got out of bed, my erection slowly deflating.