Chapter 31: I Shouldn't Have Said That

August 18, 1985, Rutherford, Ohio

"How are you?" I asked Mom after we got into my car.

"Numb," she sighed. "Of all the things I would have thought, this would have been the last."

"Where do you want me to take you?" I asked.

"I honestly don't know," she replied, looking out the passenger window.

I started the car, moved the gear selector into first, let out the clutch, and pulled out of the parking spot. When I reached the end of the driveway, I turned right, towards my grandparents' house, rather than left towards West Monroe. I had no idea what advice Father Herman had provided, but in my mind, taking my mom back to my inebriated dad simply didn't make sense to me.

What my dad was doing made even less sense. His having an affair was, as my mom had said, the last thing I would ever have expected, especially given the grief he'd given me about my behavior before I was married, not to mention everything he'd said about Paul. Granted, Holly was over eighteen, and I couldn't imagine the affair had been going on long enough for her to have been under the age of consent — sixteen — when it began. The idea that it had begun at any point simply boggled my mind.

My dad had drunk heavily when Liz had been committed to the hospital in Columbus, but as far as I was aware, he had only imbibed moderately after that. I had no idea if the new drinking problem or the adultery had come first, but my gut told me that his current drinking problem was a result of the guilt from his unfaithfulness, not the other way around. Both had to stop and although the adultery was the larger concern, I wasn't sure which one had to stop to allow the other one to end.

"Who knows, Mike?" Mom asked.

"Liz, me, and the person who saw Dad with the young woman."

"One of Liz's friends," Mom said, making a statement.

"I don't think that's particularly relevant," I replied.

"Please tell me the 'young woman' isn't underage."

"She's not," I replied.

"Why my parents' house?"

"I suppose because I couldn't see taking you home, and I suspect Father Herman is going to drive over to the house in an attempt to talk to Dad."

"He told you that?"

"Not that he was going to the house, but he did say he was going to try to talk to Dad. Do you mind if I ask his advice to you?"

"The same as yours — not to act precipitously. But honestly, Mike, I don't see any other solution."

I nearly asked if she had declared infidelity the 'unforgivable sin', but realized at the last second that wasn't what my mom needed from me at the moment.

"Trust, once broken," I replied carefully, "is not easily restored."

"So you agree with me?" she asked.

"As your son, I don't see any realistic possibilities beyond the one you're considering. Well, short of a complete and total «metanoia» on Dad's part; but even then, I'm not sure the rift can be properly healed. My answer as Deacon Michael would be to encourage you to follow whatever guidance Father Herman provided."

"Aren't both of you prohibited from counseling me to divorce?"

"It's complicated," I replied. "The priests are, according to how I understand the guidelines, first to ensure your physical safety, but then do everything in their power to restore the relationship. If you elect to seek a secular divorce, then it's a matter of writing a letter to the bishop proposing he accept or reject your request, which you would then make in writing and in person. But if I understand correctly, that can only happen after a proper attempt is made to restore the relationship. That said, you can proceed with a secular divorce without any input, so long as you understand the spiritual ramifications."

Mom laughed ruefully, "That sounds like a 'yes'."

I nodded, "Yes, it is, but as in all things, «ekonomia» allows some amount of latitude in the advice given by the priest. I'd say in the case of divorce, a priest could make that suggestion if he felt it was in the best interest of your spiritual health and salvation. In the other really touchy area, he could not advise abortion except in the case of a true medical emergency to save the actual life of the woman involved. Everything else is more or less open to a wide range of answers under «ekonomia». Well, except for egregious sin by a clergyman, which has to be reported to His Grace immediately."

"I wonder how much of this is my fault," Mom sighed.

"My gut reaction would be to tell you that kind of thinking is total BS, but I don't know enough about your relationship with Dad to even think about giving an answer. That said, if you're thinking that having sex in High School is the root cause of this, I'll tell you that you're wrong. You didn't lie to Dad about it, at least from what you've told me, so if that's the source of the trouble, that's on him, not you. And if you're thinking it's pre-marital sex that caused it, again, he's responsible for his own actions."

"But if I hadn't done those things..."

"Yes, Mom, if you were sinless, no bad thing would ever have happened to you," I said with a touch of sarcasm. "I mean, you know, you wouldn't be scourged and crucified or anything. Or thrown to the lions. Or some other terrible thing."

"Aren't you being a bit hyperbolic?"

"Yes. You've been faithful to Dad since you met, right?"

"What kind of question is that?!" Mom gasped.

"One I would never have asked of Dad before today," I replied.

Mom sighed, "Of course I have."

"And from everything I've seen, at least from the perspective of a son, you've been a good wife and mother. And when the crap hit the fan, your instincts were to support Dad and do your best to protect your marriage. You accepted a rift between us that I would have thought impossible in order to try to save your marriage. The same was true with you and Liz."

"I'm not sinless, Mike."

"I never said you were! But I'd say, again, from a son's perspective, you were doing the right things. I think, and this is purely speculation, that the events of the past four years finally drove Dad to a breaking point. A crisis of faith and possibly a belief that he was responsible for what happened to Liz. My rubbing his nose in my bad behavior certainly didn't help. Nor did my love for Liz, though that is not something I'll ever be sorry for."

"Is it OK to ask a very personal question?"

"I'll answer any question you ask if I think it'll help in this situation. There are a few things which are off-limits, but I can't imagine you asking about almsgiving or anything related to my spiritual duties."

"Did you confess your sexual activity?"

"Yes, to both Father Herman, Father Nicholas, and eventually, Father Stephen. I had real trouble controlling my behavior because I didn't want to. It was finally the combination of my relationship with Lara and my desire to court Elizaveta that led me to once and for all get control of myself."

"You confessed from the beginning?"

"Not long after Jocelyn and I went to Cincinnati. You and I had that talk about it, if you recall."

"I remember. Today was the first time I confessed ALL my pre-marital sex."

"You'd at least partially confessed to Father Alexi, right?"

"Only about what had happened in High School, not about the guy when I was in college or your father. But I felt I had to tell Father Herman about the circumstances."

"Does he know about Liz?"

"Most of it at this point, I think. I don't recall which details I withheld, though I'm sure she never told him anything."

"Don't be so sure," I replied. "She did go to confession before my ordination."

"Much to my amazement," Mom replied. "When I said what I said about it possibly being my fault, I was thinking of the parallels of our lives and what happened with Liz."

"The sins of the mother are visited on the son and the daughter?" I asked skeptically.

"That's not what I meant, or at least I don't think so. But you did follow my same pattern."

"I suppose, but not because you modeled bad behavior for me, nor were you ever a hypocrite in that regard. You didn't condemn me when I was with Jocelyn or Emmy or Becky."

"I get the idea that several of your little sister's friends were very 'friendly' with you."

"You know I can't answer that question."

"I know you don't think I should go home, but if I don't, I need clothes and toiletries."

"I think the safest thing to do in that regard is for you to ask your parents to retrieve them. I think I'm about the last person Dad will want to see once he realizes what's happened, which, if Father Herman is as decisive as he usually is, is happening right now."

"You're suggesting I tell them?"

"How are you going to explain to Grandpa Mikhail that you're separating from Dad without doing that? It's about the only thing, short of Dad beating you, that Grandpa would accept. For anything else, he'd very likely tell you what I would tell you — find a way to work it out. If you're up to it, I'd tell Dad's parents as well."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because if you're going down the path I believe you are walking, it's all going to come out. Better to tell them now, as I see it. And I also think that if there is ANY chance of reconciliation, it's going to take a concerted effort by the entire family, including all the grandparents, Liz and me, and our spouses."

"Involving Paul will make things worse!"

"I don't think it's possible to make it worse, and one of the things Dad will have to reconcile himself to is Liz and Paul. I guarantee you they're going to have kids, and that's going to put Dad in a worse bind and likely deepen his spiritual crisis."

"Do you think it might be the clichéd 'mid-life crisis'?"

I shook my head, "No, it really sounds like something in our introductory psychology text that is related to 'battle fatigue' or 'shell shock'. Basically, they're finding that traumatic events, even outside combat, can cause such severe stress that it leads to symptoms similar to the ones they found in the troops coming back from Viet Nam, as well as going back in history, based on the described symptoms."

"Liz?"

"I'd say finding out that your daughter had been gang-raped qualifies as traumatic and stressful. Add in what happened with Paul, whatever you want to make of it, and the drugs, alcohol, and promiscuous sex, and I'd say at some point Dad just couldn't handle the stress, and something broke."

"Drinking, sure; but an affair, Mike?"

I shrugged as I pulled past my grandparents' driveway so I could back in.

"All I can tell you is what I discovered in my one textbook, and what I learned from Doctor Mercer, and from personal experience. A mental break can lead to all sorts of irrational, out-of-character behavior. Jocelyn is a prime example, and so is Angie, and, to be truthful, so am I."

I parked the car, and we got out.

"Do you want me to stay?" I asked.

Mom shook her head, "No. Let me talk to my parents and your dad's parents. I know you trust your grandfather to take care of me."

"He always has, and he always will," I replied. "I'll come in to get Elizaveta. I'll call you tomorrow and every day after that until you tell me not to."

"You're a pretty good kid, Mike," Mom said with a wry smile.

"Pretty good?" I asked.

"Pretty good. You get enough affirmation from everyone else, so your mom gets to be your critic."

I chuckled, "I have a full-time, live-in critic, thank you very much!"

"I know you mean Elizaveta, but you were always pretty tough on yourself. That cassock can't make it any easier."

"I willingly accepted it and everything that comes with it."

We walked to the front door and, as was the usual family practice, simply walked into the house. There were looks of surprise, but I said nothing other than the fact that Elizaveta and I needed to leave. I shook hands with my grandfathers, got hugs from my grandmothers and my mom, and then Elizaveta and I left and got into my car. I started the engine, put the car in gear, and pulled away from the house.

"What's going on?" Elizaveta asked.

"This is extremely confidential," I replied. "You can't say anything to anyone, Matushka."

Elizaveta paused at me using her title, then nodded, "I understand. What?"

"More than likely, my parents are going to divorce. We discovered today that my dad is having an affair with a girl my sister's age."

"What?!" Elizaveta gasped. "You're serious?!"

"Sadly, yes. I found out, confronted my dad, and when he insisted I leave, I talked to my mom, confirmed her suspicion, and then took her to see Father Herman. She's going to tell her parents and in-laws."

"But how could you find out?"

"Again, utmost confidentiality, but Liz's friend, Emmy, saw my dad — twice — in an apartment complex in Rutherford where he had no business being, and one of those times, he had his arm around the daughter of the secretary who takes care of his department at work."

"Whoa! But couldn't there be an innocent explanation?"

"One YOU would accept, Kitten?"

She frowned, "No. And you don't have to keep reminding me about keeping things to myself."

I chuckled, "I'll stop when the priests and the bishop stop reminding ME of my duties and obligations."

"But you know them!" Elizaveta protested.

"Yes, I do. And as I said to you before, I'll be reminded hundreds if not thousands of times about things in medical school and during Residency. There's a reason why the astronauts use checklists even if they know exactly what to do, and that's because a single error can be fatal, and in my case, both spiritual and medical fatalities are a serious risk."

"It's just annoying!"

"Get used to it, Kitten. That's all I can say."

"What are you going to do?"

"Same as always — love my parents and do whatever is within my power to help them."

"I still can't believe it!"

"Neither can I," I replied, "and yet I can't deny the truth. If it hadn't happened, a simple denial from my dad would have sufficed. But he didn't deny it, and his body language and the things he said made it clear he knew I knew, and that's when he told me to get out of his workshop. Mom already suspected, and she asked ME if I thought it was possible Dad was cheating on her."

"Do you know why she was suspicious?"

"Changes in his routine," I replied. "And lying to her about working late when he wasn't."

"How did she find out?"

"Just through the usual way they communicated — she'd call him at work and find out he wasn't where he should have been. The worry in my mind, for you and me, is that there will be times when I can't control my schedule, and it might even be the case where I can't get to a phone. We'll need to talk about how we handle those kinds of things when we get to that point, which is at least a few years down the road."

"Will you have one of those beeper things?"

"Probably once I'm doing my Residency, if not before. Most doctors I know carry them."

"You know, I should have asked how you're doing, and I didn't. I'm sorry."

"It's OK, Kitten. I kind of shocked you. And that's probably the best description — shock."

"You just seem a bit cold."

I took a deep breath and let it out, "It's the whole 'Doctor Mike' thing everyone told me I had to be careful about. I guess I just got back into that mindset with the impending start of medical school. I didn't mean for you to think I was cold-hearted."

"You're very warm!" Elizaveta giggled. "VERY, VERY warm!"

"And so are you! But I need you to point out if I'm acting too cold or unemotional towards you because I might not realize it, and I don't want you to ever feel unloved."

"OK. Is there anything you need to do?"

"Besides loving you?" I asked.

Elizaveta smiled, "Yes, besides that."

"I promised my mom I'd call her every day until she told me to stop. I also need to speak to Father Nicholas tomorrow. Father Herman is going to fill him in this afternoon. Normally, that wouldn't be the case, but given my position and given Father Nicholas was trying to help, they'll talk."

"And then what?"

"Then it's in the hands of those who love my parents to care for them and pray for them, and for those with the gift of counseling to do what they can, if anything, to help them reconcile."

"And if not?"

"Then love them and help them through the other challenges which lie ahead."

August 19, 1985, McKinley, Ohio

"Come into my study," Father Nicholas said after I received his blessing at the door to his house late on Monday afternoon.

I removed my ryassa and hung it next to his on the coat rack in the foyer, then followed him to his study, where coffee and cookies were waiting for us.

"As I said on the phone last night," he began, "I spoke with Father Herman yesterday. Then we had a long talk this morning. My first question, though, is how are you doing?"

"OK, I suppose. It's starting to sink in, and now that the shock is wearing off, it's pretty depressing."

"Let's address that first, then, because as I'm sure you're aware, depression can be a very dangerous thing and often feeds back on itself. You have a history of bottling up your emotions, so I'd like you to check in with me each day for the next week, and I'd like your permission to speak to Matushka about you."