Chapter 12: Frustration

September 20, 1987, McKinley, Ohio

I slept fitfully, and woke Sunday morning nearly as physically exhausted as I’d been when I’d gone to bed. Worse, I was as emotionally and spiritually exhausted as I’d been the night before, and I was in no mood to go to church. I knew that would cause consternation amongst my friends, as well as with Father Nicholas, and he might even call the bishop. I realized I simply didn’t care, so I fed Rachel, changed her diaper, and made myself breakfast.

I knew it was only a matter of time before someone called or showed up at the door, but at least I’d have some time alone. As I ate, I made a wager with myself as to who would show up or call first. My money was on Robby, Lara, Mark, or Elias, in that order. Mark and Elias were serving, which meant they’d only call if instructed to do so by Father Nicholas. I also wasn’t sure if Clarissa had planned to be at the Divine Liturgy, as she only attended about once every three weeks. As I finished eating, I decided it would likely be Robby, and he might even show up while Matins was being sung.

I won my bet with myself when I heard a knock at the door about thirty minutes later and went to answer it.

“Hi, Mike,” Robby said. “Are you OK?”

“No. Come in.”

Robby came in and we went to sit on the couch.

“Mark and Elias were both concerned when you didn’t show up for church this morning after staying in the cry room last night and last Sunday. What’s wrong?”

“I’m getting grief for the choices I’m making about caring for Rachel and who I’m having help me.”

“You’re going to have to be specific,” Robby said. “I may be close to a Master’s in biochem, but I do NOT understand church politics at all, and I didn’t grow up with it.”

“Traditionally, the older ladies, the ones I used to call «бабушки» (babushki), provide meals and anything else someone needs when their spouse dies. I preferred my friends, and that bothered those women. Then, I had Tasha and Lara care for Rachel, and at least one of those women ran to Father Nicholas and accused me of breaking my vows.”

“Oh, bullshit!” Robby exclaimed. “Sorry.”

“I’ve been known to use that word from time to time, even after being ordained.”

“It’s BS, Mike!”

“You know that, the girls know that, and I certainly know that, but because I dated Tasha and Lara, Father Nicholas felt it necessary to ask me last night after Vespers if I’d violated my vows, and worse, to believe it was possible I might have.”

“Just tell him it’s BS!”

“I did. And he insisted it was a legitimate question. I was offended and outraged, and he suggested I come home and calm down. Well, I’m not calm, so here I am.”

“I wondered if something had happened last night when Doctor Blahnik said you weren’t feeling well. When you didn’t show up for church, the guys were concerned.”

“I was, and I still am, physically, emotionally, and spiritually exhausted.”

“And you let that keep you from church?” Robby asked incredulously. “That’s not like you, Mike.”

“Last night, during Vespers, I felt out of sorts and out of place. That’s the opposite of how I usually feel when I’m in church, and that’s the last thing I need right now.”

“What can you do?”

“Father said, in not so many words, that I should find one of the older ladies to care for Rachel, not my friends whom I chose.”

“OK, I’m not up on how it works with clergy, but he can’t give you that order if I understand correctly.”

“He didn’t. But the implication was clear that the only way to put an end to the gossip is for me to surrender to the gossiping women and not associate with my long-term female friends.”

“Maybe talk to the bishop?”

The last thing I needed was the allegations to reach the bishop, as he’d be required to investigate, and I just didn’t have the energy to deal with it.

“I’m afraid if I do that now, it’ll only make things worse.”

“Then what?” Robby asked.

“I don’t know,” I replied. “But my first priority is doing what’s best for Rachel, and that means getting help from Lara and Tasha. My second priority is my medical training. Everything else takes a back seat to that. And I get to decide what’s best for Rachel, not my mother-in-law or any of the other women at the church.”

“You’re thinking of quitting, aren’t you?” Robby asked.

“That’s been suggested by a few people, and it has crossed my mind. I honestly do not need the grief I’ve had to put up with almost since the day I was ordained.”

“I take it you’re not coming to church at all this morning?”

“You take it correctly,” I replied.

“Will you come to Doctor Blahnik’s house this afternoon?”

“Yes, but please don’t say anything to anyone other than the gang who were invited.”

“I won’t. When I get back to church, I’ll tell Mark and Elias you had trouble sleeping, which is obvious just looking at you.”

“You’re a good friend, Robby.”

“Anything I can do for you, you let me know.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you this afternoon.”

I walked Robby to the door, and after he left, I lay down to try to take a nap, but I couldn’t fall asleep. I gave up after about twenty minutes and picked up my guitar. I avoided playing any songs which reminded me of Elizaveta, and began strumming through the rest of the Code Blue playlist. Despite the time constraints I had, I was actually looking forward to practicing with the band once I finished my OB/GYN rotation in Cincinnati. My playing was interrupted by a knock at the door, and once again I won a bet with myself as to whom it would be.

“Come in, Lissa,” I said when I opened the door. “I take it Robby called you from church?”

“He did.”

I let her in and we sat on the couch.

“How much did he tell you?” I asked.

“Just that you were struggling and didn’t go to church. He said you’d have to share.”

I filled her in on what had happened with Father Nicholas, along with my conversations with Lara and Robby, and the one with Annette.

“OK to be silly before the actual conversation?” Clarissa asked impishly.

“Go on,” I replied, having a good idea what she was going to say.

“Well, Petrovich, if you have to do the time, you may as well do the crime!”

“Care to tell me how that solves anything or makes it better?” I asked.

“Cute, athletic, tennis-playing, teenage blonde? If you can’t figure THAT out, Petrovich...”

“Yes, fine, so a night of pleasure, and then what? I’ve broken my vows and I’m the one in the wrong.”

“You really aren’t in a mood to tease, are you? I’m sorry.”

“It’s OK, Lissa. Under normal circumstances, I’d play with you.”

Clarissa smirked, “That would work, too! Tessa would be very happy!”

“Lissa,” I sighed, “can we be serious, please?”

“I’m not sure what you can do, really. Lara and Tasha are the perfect women to help you — they’re the right age, Tasha has experience with a newborn, and Lara is independently wealthy. They also have the same basic outlook on life, and are totally in tune with you. Heck, you considered marrying both of them.”

“Which is, of course, part of the problem,” I replied with a slight sigh. “Father Nicholas knows my history of promiscuity, which doesn’t help things.”

“I think I see the problem,” Clarissa said, “well, maybe the source of your outrage is a better way to put it, as the problem is the women who are making false accusations. As I see it, once you determined that you would marry Elizaveta, you reformed your behavior and became a model husband and deacon, and you’re being judged by whom you used to be. I think your outrage stems from that line that is spoken in confession — ’have no further care for the sins which you have confessed’. You aren’t being allowed to do that.”

I nodded, “I’d agree that’s the source of my consternation with Father Nicholas, though I’m also more than a little miffed that he didn’t quash the rumors immediately.”

“Don’t the two go hand-in-hand?” Clarissa asked. “If he wasn’t basically holding your past sin over you, then he wouldn’t think the accusations might be legitimate.”

“True,” I agreed.

“I think you have to make that exact point to Father Nicholas — either he accepted your confession and that you reformed, or he didn’t. If he didn’t, well...”

“Yeah,” I sighed.

“Have you spoken to the bishop?”

“No. I missed my weekly call yesterday because I literally forgot about it.”

“The only way THAT happened is if you didn’t want to speak to him.”

“You know me too well, Lissa. I’ll call him late this afternoon from Anicka’s house.”

“Is Tasha supposed to join us? You need to get some sleep.”

“Yes, but she works tomorrow morning, so she can’t stay the night.”

“Then we’ll ask Serafima or Alyssa. Doctor Blahnik will be OK with one of them and their husband staying over. Are Jocelyn and Gene coming down from Columbus?”

“Not this weekend. Jocelyn is buried in reading and Gene is up to his eyeballs in a research project. They’ll visit next weekend.”

“I see your guitar; were you playing?”

“Yes. I plan to start going to band practice again in two weeks. I’ll call Kim later and let her know.”

“Other than the problem with the women at church, how are you doing?”

“OK, I guess. One of my patients made an observation that I think is true, but I’m also not sure I can do anything about it. She said that by turning off my emotions, I was storing them up the way a spring stores energy when it’s compressed and then, when I’m away from the hospital, it’s all released.”

“I suspect she’s right. Have you spoken to Doctor Mercer?”

“I will next week, given the time off I’ve been permitted. I’m just not sure there’s much I can do. Without Elizaveta, I’m adrift emotionally. I can focus at work and on Rachel, but that’s about my limit. Just the time Elizaveta and I spent cuddling was a huge help. And being able to discuss literally anything with her.”

“You know you can discuss anything with me,” Clarissa replied.

“Please don’t take this as a slight, but the marriage bond is different.”

“I don’t take that as a slight, and I agree with you. She had to be your closest confidante, even if you and I have a special relationship. I’d offer to cuddle, but I don’t think you could accept, especially with the accusations flying around. I just thought of something — why not go to confession and force the issue? You’ve never once lied to Father Nicholas from what I can tell, and if he refuses to accept your confession as complete and accurate, he’s calling you a liar, and THAT has to be the end.”

“That is probably the best way to handle it,” I replied. “I haven’t been to confession recently. I’ll call Father Nicholas and arrange to meet him tomorrow.”

“The bishop is in town soon, right?”

“Yes. October 4th for Mark’s ordination and Rachel’s baptism.”

“That’s right; I have that on my calendar. I forgot the bishop was going to perform the baptism. Will you be OK if I leave? I’d hate for someone to have a reason to make another false accusation.”

“I’ll see you at Anicka’s house after lunch,” I replied.

I walked Clarissa to the door, and after she had left, I picked up the guitar, though I only made it through one song before Rachel fussed and I had to change and feed her. I held her for a bit after feeding her, then put her in her carrier and played and sang to her. She was much more alert now that she was nearly a month old, and I wondered what might be going through her little mind. I looked forward to the day when she could express herself, then laughed softly, because I remembered how Elizaveta and Liz had expressed themselves as teenagers, but that was a long way into the future.

I ate my lunch, and as I was packing Rachel’s diaper bag and my overnight bag, the phone rang. I briefly debated if I should answer or not, and decided to answer on the chance that it was one of my friends calling to let me know about some change of plans.

“Deacon Michael’s residence,” I said into the handset. “Deacon Michael speaking.”

“Deacon, it’s Father Nicholas. Do you have time to talk?”

“I’d like to meet you at church tomorrow morning,” I said. “I’d like you to hear my confession, and then we can talk.”

“What time?”

“My schedule is flexible, and Rachel is used to waking up between 5:00am and 6:00am for her breakfast.”

“How about we meet at the church at 8:00am?”

“I’ll see you then,” I replied.

“Are you going to be OK, Deacon?”

“That would appear to be a secondary concern for some people,” I replied. “But we’ll discuss this tomorrow.”

“OK,” Father Nicholas agreed reluctantly.

We said ‘goodbye’ and I hung up. I finished packing, got Rachel situated in her car seat, then headed to Anicka’s house, where Clarissa, Tessa, Lara, Peter, Fran, Maryam, Tasha, Robby, Sophia, and Elias were gathered. Nadine was on shift, so she couldn’t attend. Fortunately, my cover story of being extremely tired was accepted, and nobody probed for a deeper answer. It wasn’t the complete truth, but it was what I could share generally, though I’d given specifics to Clarissa, Lara, and Robby.

We had a nice afternoon, though by early evening I was so spent I could barely think or move. Serafima took charge of Rachel, and I went up to bed, where out of sheer exhaustion I fell asleep.

September 21, 1987, McKinley, Ohio

Despite not having to get up with Rachel, I had a restless night, tossing, turning, and waking. I knew I was exhibiting signs of stress, and also that I was suffering from lack of sleep. If something didn’t give, I was going to have some sort of breakdown.

I had breakfast with Anicka, Derek, and Serafima, but not Elias, as he had to be on his job site by 6:00am. The plus for him was that he’d be finished with work by 3:00pm. Serafima was working at the dealership, but didn’t start work until 9:00am, which allowed her to have breakfast with us.

After I ate, I decided to call Doctor Smith and discuss what I could do about the stress and lack of sleep. He suggested I come to see him at 4:30pm in his office, as his last scheduled appointment was at 4:00pm. Once I completed that call, I put on my cassock, and then Rachel and I headed to Saint Michael the Archangel for my meeting with Father Nicholas.

“Good morning, Deacon,” Mrs. Sokolov said when I walked into the church. “If you like, I’ll take care of Rachel while Father hears your confession and you have your meeting.”

I was tempted to keep Rachel with me, but given that Mrs. Sokolov was Elizaveta’s godmother and had, with her husband, sponsored my marriage to Elizaveta, I didn’t feel I could say ‘no’ without creating yet more controversy.

“Thank you,” I replied. “That would be helpful.”

I passed the baby carrier and the diaper bag to her, then went to Father Nicholas’ office.

“Shall we go to the nave?” he suggested after I had asked for and received his blessing.

I nodded and the two of us went to the nave and stood before the icon of Christ on the iconostasis. Father put on his epitrachil around my shoulders and said the initial prayers, concluding with ’Take care, therefore, that having come to the Physician, you not depart unhealed. What is it, Michael, that you need to confess?’

“Acting out of frustration and nearly losing my temper on the last two occasions I spoke with you. I apologize.”

“Apology accepted. I know you’re under a lot of stress.”

“I’m going to see Doctor Smith this afternoon,” I said. “And I’ll see Doctor Mercer on Thursday.”

“Good. What else do you have to confess?”

“Anger at my mother-in-law, as well as others in the parish who felt they were doing the right thing.”

“I think you can pass on apologies there, as I don’t believe you expressed that to anyone other than me.”

“Correct.”

“What else is on your heart?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing else?”

“Nothing else. Father, you have a stark choice — you can accept that my confession is complete with regard to anything of which I am aware, or you can accuse me of deception. There is no middle ground. I’ve never once lied to you in confession, and I’m not about to start doing that now. The question is whether or not you believe that to be true.”

“I’ve never doubted your confessions, Mike, but that doesn’t relieve me from the obligation of asking you the question I asked when accusations are made.”

“It wasn’t just the asking, but about you asking twice, how you asked, and the doubt you expressed that I had kept my vows. Fundamentally, it’s as if the words ’have no further care for the sins which you have confessed’ have no actual meaning.”

“What would you have me do, Deacon? Put yourself in my position.”

“What would I do? I’d acknowledge that I kept my word to you about fornication from the moment I started courting Elizaveta, and I never once wavered. Not during our engagement, not during our marriage, and not since her repose. I’d also acknowledge that I was completely honest with you about my behavior before my betrothal, and that while I failed miserably, I was fully aware of the changes I would have to make, and that I made them.

“I’d also have told the ... women who accused me that they were off-base and spreading scurrilous, unfounded rumors. You know what the problem is, both with Yulia and with whomever else made the ridiculous accusations. The decisions about who helps me and who cares for me are up to me, not the cabal of grandmothers. I know I’ve joked about who runs the church in the past, and about the bishop fearing no man but every grandmother, but I won’t submit to their control on this issue.”

“Deacon, assuming all of that is true, there is still the impression of impropriety.”

“Only in the minds of busybodies who have nothing better to do than gossip,” I replied. “Paul makes a very strong point about gossip when he says ’And besides they learn to be idle, wandering about from house to house, and not only idle but also gossips and busybodies, saying things which they ought not say.’ and Proverbs says ’A troublemaker plants seeds of strife; gossip separates the best of friends.’

“My point is that we’re not living in nineteenth-century Russia, nor are we living in 1950s America. I am not my grandfather or even my dad. Men are completely capable of caring for children, even babies. Is it ideal? Of course not. But that doesn’t mean I’m incapable of doing it, and like every other parent, I get to make the decisions for my child. In this case, that means finding a way to have her with me in Cincinnati. The only thing that made that possible was Lara taking a leave of absence from student teaching because she has the financial resources to do that.