Chapter 19: Not a Mean Feat for an Orthodox Man

October 5, 1987, McKinley, Ohio

On Monday evening, after my ER shift, I headed to Saint Michael the Archangel so that we could pray the prayers for the departed for Elizaveta on the fortieth day after her death. In order to save time, Lara brought Rachel from the house, and met me in the parking lot.

“Your mom called and she’ll be here, along with your grandparents, and Liz and Paul,” Lara said as she handed Rachel to me.

“Just my mom? Or Stefan, Elaine, and April, too?”

“She said ‘we’ so I’m going to assume she meant all of them, but I didn’t ask. Mr. and Mrs. Sokolov are here, though they’re meeting with Father Nicholas.”

“There was an attempted armed robbery at the Quick Mart today. A Sheriff’s deputy walked in on a gunman trying to hold up the store, drew his service revolver, and the two fired at the same time. The would-be robber took a .357 round through the heart which is routinely fatal, while the deputy underwent emergency surgery to remove a .22 round from his lung.”

“Was Mr. Sokolov there at the time?”

“I have no idea,” I replied. “I only know what the McKinley detectives who came to check on the bad guy said.”

“And the deputy?”

“Is out of surgery and is expected to make it.”

“Did you work on him?”

“Yes. Clarissa drew the bad guy, but he never had a chance.”

“Why bring him in if he was shot through the heart?”

“According to Bobby, the guidelines for the paramedics state that unless there is a decapitation, obvious brain matter, sufficient blood loss for exsanguination, or the body is cold, they try to revive them and bring them in. Remember, the paramedics didn’t know he took the round through the heart, just that he had been shot in the chest, same as the deputy.”

We went into the church to wait for others. They began to arrive, and by 7:00pm, my entire family, including my dad, as well as Elaine and April, had arrived, along with Elizaveta’s extended family, my bandmates, my study group, Anicka and Derek, Joel and Milena, Doctor Gibbs and Bobby, Doctors Smith and Forsberg, and Doctor Mertens. All told, when it was time for the service to begin, there were nearly a hundred people who gathered in the churchyard around Elizaveta’s grave, as Father Nicholas read the appropriate prayers for the departed.

The service on the fortieth day signaled the end of the mourning period, at least from a liturgical viewpoint. I’d continue to include Elizaveta in my prayers for the remainder of my life, and she’d be included in the prayers during the Great Entrance for as long as the parish existed, but the only formal memorial service left was the one-year anniversary.

When we completed the panikhída, or memorial service, we went into the church to eat kollyva — a traditional dish made from boiled wheat sweetened with honey and flavored with anise — which had been prepared by Mrs. Sokolov. I had a chance to speak briefly with Mr. Sokolov and found out he’d been in the back room when the attempted robbery occurred and had only known something was happening when he heard the gunshots. I asked about the clerk, but it was someone I didn’t know whom he had hired in August.

I left the church with Rachel just after 8:00pm and headed home where I ate a light meal before playing my guitar for Rachel and thinking about Elizaveta. I fed and changed Rachel at the appropriate time so that I’d only have to get up once during the night, then fell into bed and soon was fast asleep.

October 6, 1987, McKinley, Ohio

“Hi, Mike,” Doctor Mercer said when she picked up the phone after her receptionist put the call through. “Are you at the hospital?”

“Yes. I’m having coffee during a lull.”

“How are you doing?”

“OK. We had the forty-day memorial for Elizaveta last night.”

“I’m not versed on Russian Orthodox traditions around death.”

“There are memorial services at various points, with the fortieth day being the end of the traditional mourning period.”

“How did that make you feel?”

“I don’t think it changed anything, really. I’m coping.”

“How is Rachel?”

“Fine. Between Lara, Serafima, Alyssa, and me we’ve managed to get Rachel on a schedule so that she only wakes me up once a night.”

“Are you sleeping OK?”

“Yes.”

“How are you emotionally?”

“Better,” I said. “I’m having fewer bouts of crying, though I did tear up on Sunday thinking about Elizaveta missing Rachel’s baptism.”

“That’s a normal reaction, and you’ll probably experience it on significant days — Rachel’s birthday, Elizaveta’s birthday, Christmas, and so on, at least for a time. Don’t fight it, so long as it doesn’t overwhelm you. Holding in those emotions is not healthy. Is there anything troubling you?”

“No,” I replied. “I obviously have some serious thinking to do about the future, but I know I’m not emotionally ready to make any changes at this point.”

“When you feel you are, I’d like to work with you. Until then, let’s keep in touch. Once a month is probably sufficient unless you’re struggling.”

“Thanks, Doctor Mercer.”

“Don’t hesitate to call, Mike. And do ask Clarissa and the other young women to watch for signs of depression. It can sneak up on you.”

“I will,” I replied. “I’ll call you in early November.”

“That sounds good.”

We said ‘goodbye’ and I hung up.

“Not ready to tell her you’ve made up your mind?” Clarissa asked.

“No. You know it’s complicated and there are so many considerations. Yes, Rachel’s wellbeing is the most important, but it’s not just a simple ‘find a mom’ solution, because there are so many other factors for which I have to account.”

“But things have calmed down at church, right?”

“So it would appear, but gossip is insidious, and I refuse to bow to pressure over who cares for Rachel from anyone, including the bishop.”

“The last time you had a conflict with the bishop it led to him being kicked out of office, two priests being transferred, and criminal charges against a clergyman!”

“This isn’t that, Lissa! Vladyka JOHN acknowledged that he has no control over how I arrange for Rachel’s care. His only advice was to be careful of perceptions. But I’m not going to let people with an agenda, small-minded people, or ultra-conservatives like Nik Antipov control what I do.”

“That sounds like a conflict you’ll never resolve so long as you’re a deacon.”

“One step at a time, Lissa. It’s only been six weeks. That said, I don’t want Rachel to be without a mom.”

“There is only one solution for that, given what you’ve said about the lack of «ekonomia» for situations such as this one.”

“True.”

“There is something you might have forgotten, or at least put out of your mind, but what happens when I make use of your banked sperm to have a baby?”

“That will create no end of consternation,” I replied. “It was always going to unless we kept it completely secret from everyone except Elizaveta, and I’m not sure she ultimately would have agreed. But you aren’t considering that until sometime during Residency, right?”

“That is what makes the most sense,” Clarissa said. “But a lot depends on other things in my life.”

“Is Tessa permanent?”

“Let’s just say that I could see that being the case. We’re compatible, we both want to have a kid, and we’re happy.”

“One kid? Or one each?”

“Signing up to help?” Clarissa asked with a smirk.

I laughed, “You and your fantasies!”

The door to the lounge opened and Nurse Amy stuck her head in, “Mike, Clarissa, toddler with two badly scraped knees. Doctor Gibbs would like you two to clean him up.”

We got up and followed Nurse Amy to Exam 3, and Clarissa checked the chart.

“Irrigation, forceps to remove embedded asphalt, and bandages,” she read.

“Ouch,” I said, wincing.

Before going into the exam room, I went over to the nurses’ station and pocketed a sucker, which we had on hand for pediatric patients, then went in to find Mikey Tito, who was two years old, with his mom.

“I’m Clarissa and this is Mike,” Clarissa said.

“What happened to our little guy?” I asked.

“He was playing in the front yard and went to chase his ball which rolled across the driveway. He tripped over his feet and scraped his knees pretty badly.”

“Hi, Mikey,” I said. “I’m Mike. My friend Clarissa and I are going to get your knees cleaned up. Can you be brave for us?”

Mikey bit his lip and nodded.

“Nurse,” I said, “we’ll need a basin, saline, an irrigation syringe, gauze pads, surgical tape, and forceps, please.”

“What are those?” Mikey asked.

“A basin is like a bowl to catch the water I’m going to use to wash your knees; saline is special water that is very clean; forceps are a special kind of tweezers,” I said. “You seem to have some of the driveway in your knees.”

“It hurts,” he said.

“But you’re a big boy, so you’ll be OK!” I soothed.

Nurse Amy brought the things I’d requested, and after I washed my hands and put on gloves, I sat down on the stool in front of Mikey. Clarissa filled the syringe with saline and handed it to me.

“Clarissa, if you would hold his leg out straight, and Nurse Amy, if you would hold the basin, we’ll see how much of this will just wash away.”

Most of the black specs washed away with the saline, but there were a few which were embedded. I used the forceps as carefully as I could to remove them, with Mikey wincing but not protesting. When I finished, I suggested to Clarissa that we change places.

“NO!” Mikey protested. “You do it! We have the same name! I like you! She’s a girl!”

All three of us laughed, and Mikey’s mom just shook her head.

“It’s OK, Petrovich!” Clarissa said. “Go ahead.”

I finished the other knee, then with Clarissa’s help, taped gauze pads over both of Mikey’s knees.

“All set!” I said to him. “You were a real champ!” I then turned to his mom, “Ms. Tito, is it OK to give Mikey a reward?”

She smiled and nodded, and I pulled the cherry sucker from the pocket of my lab coat and handed it to him.

“This is for being a brave boy!” I said.

“Mom?” he asked.

“You can eat it now, if you want.”

I helped him unwrap it and he popped it into his mouth.

“Doctor Gibbs’ written instructions say to keep them covered for forty-eight hours,” I said to Mrs. Tito. “After that, it’s OK to leave them uncovered, though if he’s wearing long pants you might want to cover the wounds to prevent chafing. You can use sterile gauze pads from the drug store or grocery store, and medical tape. It’s OK to wash his knees, but do so gently, and only mild soap and water, and nothing abrasive. If you see any signs of infection — redness, swelling, oozing pus, or Mikey has a fever, see your personal physician right away, or bring Mikey back here.”

“Thanks, Mike. And Clarissa, I apologize for Mikey.”

“He’s just being a boy,” Clarissa replied with a smile. “And in my experience, that doesn’t change when they get bigger, even if they’re medical students or doctors!”

“You’re a sweetheart, Lissa,” I said flatly.

“I always say I’m raising two little boys,” Mrs. Tito said with a slight smile. “Mikey and his dad.”

“Let me have Doctor Gibbs sign the discharge papers,” I said.

I left and after reporting to Doctor Gibbs, she signed the papers and sent me back.

“All set,” I said. “Please see Patient Services, which is just to the right of where you came in and they’ll get you on your way.”

“Thanks!”

“Have a good day,” I said. “And Mikey, be careful on the driveway!”

They left and Clarissa and I removed our gloves and returned to the lounge.

“He really took to you,” Clarissa said.

“It’s a guy thing,” I said piously. “You wouldn’t understand!”

“Oh, I understand all right! That thing between your legs interferes with rational, mature thinking, even at age two!”

“Right, because I’m the epitome of irrational, immature thinking!” I said sarcastically.

“Elizaveta, Tasha, Jocelyn, and I kept you in line and whipped you into shape! It was NOT an easy task!”

“There might be some truth to that,” I allowed. “Though speaking as someone with one of those ‘things’, he’ll figure out girls aren’t so bad soon enough!”

“You figured it out in kindergarten.”

“Jocelyn was, and is, special. The biggest regret in my life is the falling out that destroyed that special relationship.”

“I hear you, but without that, we wouldn’t be Petrovich and Lissa.”

“Joined at the hip for eternity?” I asked.

“In your dreams!” Clarissa tittered, then frowned, “Sorry.”

“It’s OK,” I said. “No need to walk on eggshells, and teasing is fine when we’re alone.”

“Thanks, Petrovich.”

October 7, 1987, McKinley, Ohio

“Again?” I sighed when, on Wednesday after Vespers, Father Nicholas told me of further gossip that had come back to him.

“I fear what His Grace said to you is true — that appearances do matter.”

“I’m going to push back on that,” I said firmly. “There are things I have to do for my medical training that have no compromises and no alternatives. If someone were to object to me doing a vaginal exam, inserting a Foley catheter into a woman, or some other procedure that involved female anatomy, I’d tell them to mind their own business and I’d expect you to do the same. The same is true for my choices for how I care for Rachel. That is, to be blunt, nobody’s business but mine, except insofar as I come to you or Vladyka JOHN for spiritual advice.”

“Relax, Deacon, please.”

I shook my head, “No. This is the last straw. I’ve had it with the rumor-mongering and gossip. I’m going to request Vladyka JOHN return me to the order of the laïty.”

“Please do not act hastily or out of emotion.”

“I’m not,” I said firmly. “The thing that has most been on my mind for the past six weeks is Rachel and her wellbeing. I honestly don’t think it’s good for her to grow up without a mom. Unfortunately, the only way to achieve that is being returned to the order of the laïty, as there is no modern case of the kind of extreme «ekonomia» which would be necessary to disregard that canon, not to mention it might even cause a schism between the jurisdictions.”

“Will you at least allow me to try to put an end to the gossip and rumors before you do something irrevocable?”

I wanted to snap back that he’d had plenty of time to do that and hadn’t, for whatever reason. Instead, I took a deep breath, let it out, then nodded.

“Yes.”

“Thank you. I’d like to discuss this with you further, but I don’t believe now is a good time.”

“Father, either put a stop to it or don’t. There really is no middle ground here with regard to practicing medicine or caring for Rachel.”

“I understand, but your comment about Rachel ‘needing a mom’ is concerning because it seems as if you’d enter into a relationship solely for that purpose.”

“It would be my overriding concern, of course, but I believe I demonstrated I know how to build a relationship that doesn’t start out romantic.”

“Am I wasting my breath?” he asked.

“No, because I know I am not in a stable enough emotional state to make that decision. But what I don’t need is the stress that the rumors and gossip are causing, and I can put a stop to that by simply asking to be laïcized.”

“It’s not simple, Deacon, and I am sure you know that.”

“I suppose it depends on how you look at it, but I acknowledge there will be fallout.”

“Please do not say anything to anyone about this.”

“It’s a bit late for that, given several people have, unbidden, suggested that course of action.”

“If it’s who I think it is, I’m sure you understand their agendas. Please don’t entertain those discussions, Deacon. If word got back to the bishop, there would be repercussions.”

“I’ll do my best, but I can’t control what others say.”

“Yet you expect me to do that.”

“Yes, in your capacity as a pastor. If the gossip was from outside the Church, I’d take my own actions. In this case, though, you’re called to act as Paul rightly demands gossips be dealt with firmly, and in love, but not allowed to continue.”

“Debating with you is frustrating,” Father Nicholas said with a slight sigh.

“You are not the first person to say I’m frustrating,” I said. “If Elizaveta had one legitimate complaint, I’d say that was it. Am I wrong in what I’m saying?”

“No, and that’s what I suspect frustrated your young wife — that you were right far too often.”

I chuckled, “No mean feat for an Orthodox man married to a Russian woman!”

“Let me have a few days, please, and we’ll speak on Sunday after liturgy.”

“OK,” I agreed.

I received his blessing, retrieved Rachel from Sara and Katherine, and headed home. Rachel and I had our usual evening together while I played my guitar, and once I’d fed and changed her at the scheduled time, I got into bed and fell asleep.

October 8, 1987, McKinley, Ohio

“Permission to be a troublemaker?” Clarissa asked as we ate lunch together on Thursday.

“When have you ever needed my permission for that?” I asked, rolling my eyes.

“Good point!”

“Practical advice first — request to be laïcized and take some time away from church. Not long, because I know you won’t, but a few weeks. Say your daily prayers, but stay away from the catty women.”

“You assume it’s women,” I interrupted. “You know Nik Antipov objected to me being a Deacon.”

“Because in his mind you stole Tasha’s cherry!”

“NOBODY could steal that from Tasha,” I replied. “And not only did she give it to me willingly, she demanded I take it! But you’re right about what he thinks. And that’s my point — it could be anyone, male or female. How does staying away from church help? You know what it does for me.”

“I do, but you know there will be turmoil, which is what you meant by ‘fallout’. And it might make things uncomfortable with your in-laws.”

“I’m positive Viktor will be upset, but I don’t think he’ll do anything rash. And I have alternatives if I need them.”

“Ready for the troublemaker?” she asked with a smirk.

“With you? Always! That’s the normal state of affairs!”

“Have a short-term fling with Doctor Cooper’s daughter, fulfill Doctor Blahnik’s fantasy, then let the eligible teens and twenty-somethings at Saint Michael, Holy Transfiguration, and the Cathedral know you’re available! And give them extensive tryouts!”

“Right,” I said, shaking my head, “because drowning myself in sex is a great idea.”

“OK, maybe that was a bit over the top,” Clarissa allowed.

“A bit?” I asked with an arched eyebrow.

“A lot. But that doesn’t change my practical advice.”

“I did promise Father Nicholas not to make an intemperate decision.”