Chapter 63: I Think That's A Good Thing

December 20, 1985, McKinley and Cincinnati, Ohio

On Friday afternoon, when I arrived home from school, Elizaveta let me know that Father Nicholas had called, and asked that I call him at home as soon as I arrived home. As Elizaveta and I were going out right away, I didn't bother to change out of my cassock and went to the kitchen to call Father Nicholas. When he answered, I asked his blessing, which he gave.

"Father Deacon Vasily has requested a Spiritual Court to review the findings of the investigation," Father Nicholas said. "He asked that you and I be members of the council, as is his right. His Grace will appoint two others of his own choosing. Father James will act as advocate for the report, and Father Deacon Vasily has asked Father Stephen from St George in Loveland to serve as his advocate."

"I'm going to hazard a guess that the findings were not favorable."

"I haven't seen the results of the investigation by Father James and Protodeacon Seraphim. If you agree to Father Deacon Vasily's request, His Grace will send you a formal letter appointing you to the Spiritual Court and send you a copy of the findings. I intend to agree to serve. What's your thinking?"

"I'll serve," I replied, "though as a newly-ordained deacon, and one who dated Tasha, I'm not sure I'll be seen as sufficiently impartial."

"His Grace suspected you might feel that way and asked me to express his complete confidence in your ability to be impartial, and that he doesn't believe your relationship with Tasha would cause anyone to question your participation. And, to be honest, and this is me speaking, I do believe the average person in the nave would prefer you on the Court, given your history in that parish."

"Then I'll do it," I replied. "When?"

"His Grace is aware of your schedule and suggested Thursday, January 2nd. For our convenience, he'll hold the Court in the nave at Saint Michael."

"I don't remember the procedure — is it open to anyone who wishes to attend?" I asked.

"That's up to His Grace in each instance, and given this involves a minor, the Court will be closed to non-clergy. A full report will be released, though it might be redacted depending on what is said."

"Redacted? She's not a minor as of last month," I replied.

"No, but at the time of her marriage, she was. It's also the case that if someone contests an ecclesiastical divorce and requests a hearing, those proceedings are closed as well."

"That makes sense, as otherwise it would serve as a never-ending source of gossip and make people less likely to seek an ecclesiastical divorce."

"I'll inform His Grace immediately. If you don't receive your letter by next Saturday's mail delivery, please have Elizaveta call me right away."

"Will do. I'll see you tomorrow evening."

We said 'goodbye', and I hung up.

"That was about Deacon Vasily?" Elizaveta asked when I found her in the second bedroom using her Macintosh computer.

"Yes. Are you doing homework?"

"A history paper that's due after break. I'm almost done. I'll finish sometime during the week. What's the decision?"

"Deacon Vasily asked for a Spiritual Court, so I'm guessing they recommended either a lengthy suspension or laicization. Deacon Vasily asked for me to be a member of the Court."

"I thought the bishop chose."

"He does, but Deacon Vasily is entitled to nominate two clergymen, and he picked Father Nicholas and me. The bishop doesn't have to accept the nominations, but in this case, he did. The hearing is Thursday, January 2nd, in the afternoon. It'll be held at Saint Michael."

"You have to miss another study session?"

"I don't see any way around it, really. But I'm doing fine. His Grace chose a Thursday, so I didn't have to miss class."

"What do you think?" Elizaveta asked.

"I think I need to wait to read the report that Father James and Protodeacon Seraphim wrote, and then hear the arguments for each side."

"But you heard it in the hearing!"

"This will be different in that we can ask questions."

"But won't Sasha object to you being there?"

"I suppose she could, but it's not up to her."

"Father James didn't speak with you!"

"Everything I said is on the record, and really, I don't know what happened after Tasha and I left, or for the next year, and that's what's important."

"So you're not a witness?"

"No, because I didn't witness anything. Sasha wanted me to testify about her being afraid to tell her dad, and about the yelling and name-calling, but it was really a formality, as the annulment was going to be granted no matter what."

"I guess I'm confused about how you can be a witness in regular court and then serve on the Spiritual Court."

"Because they are two very different things. Because of the ruling by Family Services, the real question to be asked is what discipline, if any, should be imposed. The investigation really was to review the facts as determined by the Family Court judge and determine what the canons say about similar situations. That's what we're being asked to consider."

"So he doesn't get to defend himself against Sasha's charges?"

"Not directly. His argument would be that what she said, and what the ruling from the Family Court judge said, don't rise to a level to warrant laicization or a long suspension."

"How long?"

"I've never heard of one longer than three months, because if whatever happened was egregious enough to warrant more than that, it's probably enough to warrant laicization."

"Ah, OK. I thought it was like a regular court."

"It can be, but not in this case. We can continue this conversation in the car, if necessary, but we need to get going, or we're going to be late for dinner with Angie and her family."

Elizaveta saved her work, shut down her computer, and we left the cottage. About ninety minutes later, I pulled into the Stephens' driveway. We got out, walked up to the front door, and rang the bell.

"Hi, Mike; Hi, Elizaveta," Mrs. Stephens said when she opened the door. "Come on in. Dinner is ready, so we'll just go straight to the table."

"I'm sorry we couldn't get here sooner," I replied. "School doesn't let out until 5:00pm."

"No need to apologize!" she declared, as she ushered us into the dining room.

"Hi, Angie," I said.

"Hi, Mike," she replied, her voice obviously dulled by the drugs.

"Hi, Mr. Stephens; Hi, Kenny."

They returned the greetings, and Elizaveta and I sat down across from Angie and Kenny. Mrs. Stephens asked me to say grace, which I did, using the Orthodox blessing, and then we began serving ourselves. The meal was not Lenten, as Angie had complete dispensation from the fast, and I'd assured Mrs. Stephens that there was no need to cook anything special on Elizaveta's or my account.

The conversation during dinner was mostly about how Elizaveta and I were doing, both with regard to school and church. Kenny, who was a Senior, told us that he'd applied to several schools and was planning to study nuclear engineering and join Navy ROTC. He hoped, one day, to serve on submarines.

Angie was doing as well as could be hoped, which gave me mixed emotions. I was happy she was able to work, take classes, and study martial arts, but the effect that the drugs which allowed her to do those things had on her, made her, to put it in musical terms, one beat slow. I prayed every single day for Angie, in the hope that my chosen field would discover not just the cause, but the cure for her illness.

After the meal, we had ice cream and coffee, and before we left, I put a gift for Angie under the tree. I'd discussed it with Elizaveta and Father Stephen, and in the end, we'd decided to give her a sweater, something I'd confirmed with Mrs. Stephens. Because Angie needed plenty of sleep, we left before it got too late, and as promised, I drove just above the speed limit on the way home.

December 21, 1985, McKinley, Ohio

On Saturday, we didn't have band practice as everyone had left Taft for the holidays, so Elizaveta and I went to Kroger, and after we did our shopping, visited the tree lot next door to purchase our Christmas tree. We'd decided to only get a small tree, and we'd brought blankets to protect the roof of my Mustang from the sap.

When we arrived home, I put the tree into the stand and added water while Elizaveta brought out the ornaments she'd purchased, along with a string of lights Viktor had given us. We decorated the tree, then went to the house for our midday meal with my in-laws. After the meal, Elizaveta and I went back to the cottage to spend time together, as we had the coming week off school, and so there would be no study group.

"A whole week with no school!" Elizaveta exclaimed when we walked into the cottage. "And no study group!"

"But I do have to go to the hospital on Tuesday for my last Preceptorship in Pediatrics. But that's just one afternoon."

"It sucks that you have to work on Christmas Eve, but I know that's going to happen pretty often."

"Unfortunately, but I'll be home in time for a quick bite to eat before Vespers for the Feast of the Nativity. But that's not until Tuesday afternoon. What would you like to do this afternoon?"

"A bubble bath would be nice, then light a fire."

"In the wood-burning stove? Or your fire?" I asked.

"Both!" she exclaimed.

Ten minutes later, we were sitting in the claw-foot tub, with lavender bubbles covering our bodies and my arms around my wife's waist.

"When do you receive your grades?"

"Anatomy and Practice of Medicine aren't finished until May, so not until then for those two. I'll receive my grade for Epidemiology in the mail sometime in the next week."

"How do you think you did?"

"I should have 'Honors'."

"Do you get interim grades in the other classes?"

"No, because it's 'Pass/Fail'. If you're failing, the professor talks to you and arranges for tutoring or whatever other help you need. Those students mostly take advantage of the Thursday extra sessions as well. Our group only goes to interesting ones, not remedial ones."

"What happens if you fail?"

"The short version? If it's Anatomy, you're forced to start completely over and redo your first year. If it's another class, there are opportunities to do extra work to improve your grade, but in the end, it comes down to being able to pass the test at the end of the second year. If you can do that, you can actually graduate having failed one class. I think I explained when we first talked about it that if you don't pass that test, you can't continue, because you wouldn't be permitted to touch patients. The same is true for the other exams in the series which we'll take during Fourth Year and during our Residency."

"How many people don't make it?"

"Well, so far, out of our class of 129, we've had fourteen people drop. That's typical for this point, according to my advisor. By the end of Fourth Year, we'll be down to about ninety who pass the exam and graduate. And of those, ten to fifteen won't Match and have to Scramble. And of those, about half won't get into a program."

"That would really, really suck."

"Yes, it would, which is why my goal is to graduate first in my class."

"Let me guess, it's you, Fran, and Clarissa at the top, right?"

"We don't know for sure, but that's not a bad guess. Maryam and Peter are right up there, but Clarissa, Fran, and I have the best test scores. And it's close between us."

"I assume you'll get a very good grade in Pediatrics?"

"I should, yes. It hasn't been nearly as challenging as it was in the ER."

"What's next?"

"OB/GYN, starting on January 7th. It's at a private practice in the medical building by the hospital, not at the clinic."

"Skipping ahead, what did you want to do for your week off in June? Dad offered to pay for airline tickets if we wanted to fly someplace, rather than drive."

"I hadn't given it much thought, but I think whatever it is, it has to be relaxing, and a place where you and I can spend lots of time together. This will be our last vacation until sometime after I graduate."

"You know, other than Europe, I don't know anything about vacations you took; well, you went to Disney World, but otherwise, I don't know."

"We didn't take a lot of vacations, really. We went to Illinois a few times to see my dad's relatives, and to Pittsburgh to see some of my mom's relatives. I think I told you that Clarissa, Jocelyn, and I went to Gettysburg for a few days during Spring Break. I decided going to Florida with Dale wasn't a good idea."

"Why not? I mean, well, you know."

I realized I shouldn't have added that last bit, as it had opened the door for Elizaveta's question, a question I'd now have to answer. I hoped a bit of levity would get past my error.

"If I can be a bit silly, even I had limits!"

"You'll excuse me if I don't laugh because any guy who sleeps with almost two dozen girls clearly has no real limits."

I felt instant tension in my muscles and took a deep breath and let it out, willing myself to not react, but it was too late.

"Mike?" Elizaveta queried, "Is something wrong?"

I took another deep breath and let it out.

"I thought we were past that, and it almost sounds as if you expect me to fall."

Elizaveta shifted in my arms and turned so she could look at me.

"I don't, Mike. I didn't mean it that way. I love you, and I trust you."

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"Isn't that question basically the thing you just accused me of doing?"

"I suppose it is," I admitted. "Kitten, I'm sorry I brought it up by mentioning Spring Break in Florida."

"And I'm sorry I reacted the way I did. Was Dale really that bad?"

"Ask Mikayla," I chuckled.

Elizaveta giggled, "I'm not sure I should!"

It seemed the momentary crisis was past, and I hoped it stayed that way. That meant I had to be careful, even with jesting about my past, so as not to bring the issue to the forefront. The further into the past it receded, the better.

"Probably not," I agreed.

"Have you heard from him?"

"Just the postcard that came last month. He'll be home for a few days, starting on Tuesday. I'll call him when we get home from Vespers and see if we can find time in our hectic schedules."

"What do you think about going to Seattle next Summer? You promised Dale to try to visit, right?"

"I did. Maybe we could visit him in Seattle and find a bed-and-breakfast. It's not all that different from the hostels in Europe, only they serve breakfast and you're guaranteed a private room. I don't know much more about them than that, and that's only from something mentioned in the newspaper a few weeks ago."

"Whatever you need to do, we'll do," Elizaveta said.

"When I call, I'll talk to him about it."

"You should ask if there's anything to do in the area."

"Well, I know about the Space Needle, but that's about it. I'll ask Dale, but I certainly wouldn't mind spending most of the time together in bed!"

Elizaveta laughed softly, "I won't object to that!"

We spent the afternoon making love, cuddling, and talking in front of the wood-burning stove, then had a quiet dinner before heading to church for Vespers. After Vespers, Tasha and Nik were waiting for us in the narthex.

"Dad said you agreed to serve on the Spiritual Court," Tasha said.

"Yes, but I probably shouldn't discuss it with you."

"Deacon, nobody at Holy Transfiguration thinks he should be laicized. That's all I want to say."

"Natalya Vasilyevna," I said softly but firmly, "I will follow the bishop's instructions. That's what I have to do."

She frowned, "I'm sorry."

I smiled, "You care about your dad, and so do I. Remember, God's mercy and love are paramount, as ours should be as well."

Tasha smiled and nodded.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "See you tomorrow."

They left, and Elizaveta and I went out to my car.

"Did you just promise Tasha to take her dad's side?"

"No, I simply promised to act out of love. Consider when it comes time to discipline our children. Would you do it in anger? Or in love?"

"Love, of course."

"And would love mean no punishment of any kind?"

"No, of course not."

"That's what I promised Tasha, nothing more. If things don't go the way she wants, she'll be upset, but she won't be angry with me."

"Are you sure about that?"

Suddenly, I wasn't as confident as I'd been just a few seconds earlier. But, in the end, all I could do was be obedient to my bishop, evaluate the report, and decide based on Vladyka's interpretation of the canons.

December 24, 1985, Eve of the Feast of the Nativity, McKinley, Ohio

"Did you turn in your evaluation form?" Doctor O'Neill asked.

"Yes. I gave it to Doctor Sumner when I arrived today."

"Mind telling me?" she asked.

I chuckled, "That's the same thing Doctor Gibbs asked! I'll tell you, though I'd like to hear my evaluation first."

Doctor O'Neill laughed softly, "It's already written and signed off. Changing it now would require more than you telling me I was a lousy teacher."

"You aren't. I rated you 'Excellent' and checked the 'plus' boxes next to 'pays attention to student' and 'answers questions thoroughly'. I didn't check any 'minus' boxes."

"Would you also give that same assessment to Doctor Olson?"

"As there isn't a 'smart aleck' box, yes."

Doctor O'Neill laughed again, "He's the biggest clown in the hospital, but a great doctor and the kids love him."

"In other words, he selected the correct specialty for his personality type."

"Your sober and methodical approach fits surgery very well, but will also be good in the ER, so long as you stay cool under fire. What do you think of Peds?"