Chapter 37: Caught in a Net?

November 27, 1987, McKinley, Ohio

“She’s even more adorable than when I last saw her!” Annette cooed.

“I agree, but I’m biased!” I replied. “What would you like on your pizza?”

“Pepperoni is good.”

“I’ll make the call,” I replied. “It usually takes about forty minutes. They’re just down the street.”

I went to the kitchen and dialed the pizza place and ordered the pizza and two bottles of Coke. They promised delivery in forty minutes just as I’d expected, and after I hung up, I went back to the music room.

“How is your ER rotation going?”

“Today was my last day on this rotation, though I have my evaluation with Doctor Gibbs on Monday. I start a pediatric rotation on Tuesday at 8:00am. That’s in the clinic, then I have twenty-four-hour rotations Wednesday to Thursday and Saturday to Sunday.”

“Ugh! Mom told me about her Residency. She said Dad about lost his mind because I was born during Mom’s last year in medical school.”

“The system does not make proper allowances for female doctors who want to have kids.”

“Or single dads, I bet.”

“No, but it’s tougher on women because of labor, delivery, time off, and nursing. I need to put Rachel in her crib or I’ll mess up her little schedule and she might end up waking up twice during the night.”

Annette carefully handed Rachel back to me.

“Good night, little one!” she said.

I carried Rachel up to my bedroom, swaddled her, then put her in her crib. I turned off the overhead lights, leaving just the two night lights, then went back down to the music room.

“Where do your parents think you are?” I asked.

“What?” she asked with a smirk. “You don’t think I told them I was coming to see you and why?”

“I’d bet heavily against you having done that.”

“You’d win that bet! I told them I had a date and not to wait up. I’m eighteen, so I have a bit of freedom that I didn’t have before. I mean, I pretty much did what I wanted, but I had to keep the parents happy.”

“The story of every teen’s life,” I replied.

“Not you; I bet you were a ‘goody-two-shoes’.”

“What makes you think that?”

“You wanted to be a doctor from the time you were little, just like Mom. She was a ‘goody-two-shoes’ and it totally fits the pattern.”

“Pattern?”

“The doctors who are totally serious. Mom needs to lighten up; you do, too.”

“I was like that before I met my friend Clarissa. That changed during my first year at Taft.”

“Not from where I’m standing.”

“Think about the circumstances under which we met — I was married, with a pregnant wife, and I was an ordained deacon in the Orthodox Church. That required me to behave in certain ways, and decorum was absolutely required. And I don’t think you can count the last three months against me in that way.”

“Again, it feels that way from where I’m standing.”

And from where Clarissa was standing, too. Nobody else had brought it up, either because they preferred the decorum or because they knew the intense stress I was under with being a single dad and a medical student.

“Besides the obvious, what would it take for you to think differently?” I asked.

“The ‘obvious’?”

“Saying ‘I swallow’ is pretty obvious, don’t you think?” I asked with a smirk.

“Obviously!” Annette replied with a soft laugh. “What do you do for fun?”

“I understand what you’re getting at, but the main challenge is that I simply don’t have time to have fun. That’s a problem for most medical students, and for me, you have to add in being a single dad. I know I sound like a broken record, but I really have very little control over my life right now. Medical school and Residency have no room for negotiation or compromise.

“I did receive special treatment for my current emergency medicine rotation, but that was limited to having a fixed schedule for the entire two months that included only weekdays and no on call. That was the extreme limit of what could be done without me risking failing my rotation or having to give up an elective. Either of those would hurt my ability to Match. Granted, I plan to Match at Moore Memorial Hospital here in McKinley, but I don’t want to foreclose any options.”

“Vanderbilt University Medical Center?” Annetta asked with a sly smile. “Mom says it’s a top teaching hospital!”

“You still think I meet the basic boyfriend criteria?” I asked.

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

“You’d actually consider a relationship with me?”

“Again, I’m here, aren’t I? You have what, one more year? I mean, after I graduate?”

“Yes. A year from now I’ll be applying to hospitals and arranging interviews. My Match will be in March 1989, and I’ll start my Residency either June 1st or July 1st, depending on the hospital’s schedule. Rachel doesn’t bother you?”

“No. I love kids, and she’s adorable. I enjoyed caring for her, even though it meant getting up twice during the night and dealing with poopy diapers!”

“And how would you see this working?”

“Well, first, you’d need to lighten up a bit. Second, we’d see each other on my breaks, though I know your schedule will be crappy. Then you Match, we move in together, and if things work out...”

“You have it all planned out?”

“No! But you asked, so I just said the first thing that came to mind! You said you were staying here, so I didn’t give it much thought. Well, beyond the physical attraction.”

“I honestly have no idea what to say to that, other than I have some pretty clear plans, and I’ve had them since fourth grade.”

“And you can’t compromise at all? I mean, I know you don’t get to choose where you Match, but Mom says you’re first in your class, aced your MCAT and MLE, and you’ll be able to write your own ticket, including to Mayo, Stanford, or Johns Hopkins. Or, and she didn’t list this one, Vanderbilt.”

“I had, at one time, considered interviewing at Stanford and Emory for medical school, but we stuck to the schools in the Midwest — UC, Indiana, Ohio State, Pittsburgh, and McKinley. And there’s another thing that I have to consider, and that’s my agreement with my best friend Clarissa to match our clinical rotations and Residencies, as well as practice together.”

“That sounds like a match made in Heaven! Why not marry her?”

“Her girlfriend might have questions about that,” I replied.

“Oh!” Annette exclaimed in surprise. “I guess that does present a problem!”

“You think?” I chuckled. “Elizaveta had no problem with Clarissa being my best friend because of Clarissa’s orientation. No risk, as it were.”

There was, but that was a secret which could not be shared.

“I take it you don’t believe that lesbians just need to have good sex with a guy to change their orientation?”

I almost laughed, but managed not to, because Clarissa and I had had great sex, but it had simply been an experiment, and one which actually disproved the ‘all they need is to be fucked expertly to change orientation’ BS that some people believed. Even in her speculative future, Clarissa was implying only occasional sex with me, and possibly only to make a baby. If that relationship happened, Tessa would be both our sex partners, and that just seemed a bridge too far for me, though one I would give due consideration.

“I think Clarissa was born with her brain wired to desire romantic and sexual relationships with girls, and nothing can change that. Not sex, not counseling, not ‘deprogramming’, not therapy. Nothing. And nobody should try. The same goes for my gay friends and my bisexual friends.”

“I take it Clarissa is ‘out’?”

“Yes, otherwise I wouldn’t have mentioned her name or given enough information for you to figure out she was a lesbian. I’d have simply said we were compatible as friends, but the chemistry wasn’t right for anything more.”

“And me?” Annette asked.

I grinned, “Well, Clarissa told me today that I needed to stop and smell the roses ... and I did!”

Annette laughed softly, “My body spray!”

“You do smell nice.”

“That’s the point! I taste good, too!”

“No, you’re not obvious at all!” I said with a grin.

“What does the song say? You get what you get when you go for it?”

That song’s lyrics, even though they referred to a break-up, certainly rang true in my life at the moment...

When she left me in all my despair
I just held on
My hopes were all gone

... and that raised the question in my mind — was I ‘ready to take a chance again’?

“Are you always this forward?” I asked.

“It’s worked pretty well for achieving my goals, and I don’t just mean with guys. With you, I think I have to be forward, given the circumstances. If I’m upsetting you or bothering you, just say so.”

“What’s the saying? It’s not you, it’s me? I’m a bit discombobulated, as my paternal grandmother would say.”

“And I’m pressuring you to have sex,” Annette admitted.

Which was actually the pattern from my past. With the exception of April Nash and Angie, I hadn’t really pursued any girls for a physical relationship. On the other hand, many of them, including Emmy, Becky, Janey, Melody, Milena, Deb, and my sister’s friends, had actively pursued me. It had, despite the spiritual angst, been a lot of fun.

All of those, both my pursuits and those of the girls, had been one-sided, except for Tasha. That one had been pure lust on both our parts, only I’d been too blockheaded to realize that I actually had a chance with her in High School. But circumstances changed, and I’d seriously explored marriage with Lara, but as with Tasha, ordination was a non-starter. And all of that had led to my marriage to Elizaveta.

But as I thought about it, Annette wasn’t actually pressuring me the way, say, Melody or Janey had. And the girls who had pursued me hadn’t actually pressured me, they had only made it clear what they wanted, which was what Annette was doing. She wasn’t demanding or insistent the way Janey and Melody had been; she was more like Emmy who knew what she wanted, and it was in the context of a relationship until her dad put the kibosh on it.

“Actually,” I replied, “I don’t feel pressured. You’ve made it clear you’re interested, and even sketched the outline of where you want it to lead, or maybe it’s better to say where you think it could lead. That’s not pressure, that’s honesty.”

“Then let me just put this out there — I have an overnight bag in my car. I can stay if you want, or go home, and no pressure either way, and no pressure for what happens.”

I smiled, “Other than a sexy, eighteen-year-old blonde tennis player with piercing blue eyes offering to spend the night!”

“True. What are you doing tomorrow?”

“I have band practice at 8:00am. We have a concert at Taft at the end of the semester. After that, I’m supposed to go to karate, but I’m thinking of suspending that because I simply don’t have enough time. I’ll use the gym at the medical school or run for exercise. And tomorrow evening I have church.”

“I meant to ask, but whose house is this?”

“It belongs to a professor from Taft,” I replied. “Rachel and I will be moving to our own place next week. It’s just up the street from here, on the other side of the university.”

The phone rang, and because Anicka and Derek had gone out for the evening, I excused myself to answer it.

“Blahnik residence, Mike speaking.”

“Mike, it’s Clarissa. I hope I didn’t catch you in the middle of dessert!”

“Calling to check up on me?”

“No. Your father-in-law brought your mother-in-law into the hospital. She’s had a breakdown, and she’s on a 72-hour hold.”

“Voluntary?”

“No. She was hysterical and they couldn’t calm her down. They gave her five of Haldol, she’s admitted, and she’s in soft restraints because she fought the IV.”

“Damn,” I replied. “How are her vitals?”

“She was tachy and hypertensive, but her EKG was normal once she was sedated.”

“Do you know what happened?”

“No. Viktor talked to Doctor Ford, the Resident who admitted her, while I was helping Doctor Gabriel with the assessment.”

“Is Viktor still there?”

“No, he, Geno, and Anna went home a few minutes ago. I just felt you should know.”

“Thanks, Lissa. I’m going to call Viktor.”

We said ‘goodbye’ and I pressed the switchhook, then dialed Viktor’s number. Geno answered and called his dad to the phone.

“Clarissa called me,” I said to Viktor. “How are you?”

“OK, I guess. I’m hoping they can help her.”

“Me, too. What happened?”

“I found her crying hysterically with her photo albums, including your wedding album, thrown across the room. When we couldn’t calm her down, I called 9-1-1, and the paramedics brought her to the hospital.”

“If there’s anything I can do, please let me know.”

“Not at the moment,” Viktor replied. “I have Geno and Anna here, and Father Nicholas will be here shortly.”

“OK. I’ll see you tomorrow at church. Please call if you need anything.”

“I will. Thanks, Mike. Let’s have dinner next week, if you can work it into your new schedule.”

“How about Wednesday before my shift? I have to be at the hospital at 8:00pm.”

“Then let’s meet at the club at 6:00pm. I’ll make the arrangements.”

“See you then.”

I said ‘goodbye’ and hung up, and as I was walking back to the music room, the doorbell rang. I answered it, paid and tipped the delivery boy, and then took the pizza and soft drinks to the kitchen. I called for Annette, got out plates and napkins, then opened the bottles of Coke.

“Everything OK?” she asked.

“My mother-in-law had what is commonly called a nervous breakdown. She hasn’t dealt well with Elizaveta’s death.”

“You seem to be holding up OK.”

“‘Seem to’ is the key phrase,” I replied. “Again, on the ‘broken record’ theme, I have to for Rachel’s sake, and for my training. I cried quite a bit, but I’ve managed to hold things together.”

“Do you want to pray before we eat?”

I said the usual Orthodox blessing, and then we dug into our pepperoni pizza.

“When will Rachel wake again?”

“Around 11:00pm, and then around 4:00am. In about a month, she’ll be sleeping six hours at night, which will help tremendously, because that’s my usual number of hours of sleep when I’m not working overnight or an extra-long shift. And soon enough, she’ll start crawling, which will be a whole new adventure!”

“That’s at like six to nine months, right?”

“Something like that, yes. Walking is usually three to six months after crawling. Words could come any time after six months, but usually closer to a year. And every baby is different and has their own timeline. It’s only a concern if their development is seriously delayed or they exhibit obvious signs of developmental problems.”

“You sound like my mom!”

“Good!” I replied. “I mean, not in the sense that I sound like her, but that I sound like a doctor.”

“Well, you aren’t one yet,” she said impishly, “but we could play doctor!”

“I know what you mean, obviously, but in medical school and in my rotations, it’s been driven home time and again, that medical exams have nothing to do with sex. Sex was the last thing on my mind when I was doing pelvic exams at Good Samaritan or when I’ve inserted Foley catheters.”

“That does kind of take the fun out of that euphemism. Did you?”

“No. The first naked girl I saw in person was the day I lost my virginity.”

“Swap stories?” Annette asked.

“I think we both shared the basic outlines — mine was with my best friend and yours was at tennis camp.”

“Sure, but there’s always more to the story.”

“Mine was pretty simple. I spent all of High School trying to get laid with no success, and the Summer after graduation my friend decided we should be each other’s first. We stayed in a hotel in Cincinnati and spent a few days experimenting, using The Joy of Sex as our textbook.”

“You weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend, right?”

“Not before that, no. As I think I mentioned, we were friends from kindergarten on, but never boyfriend or girlfriend. We did go on triple dates with our friend Dale, with each of us bringing someone we were dating, but we never dated. After graduation, I admitted how I really felt about her, and not long after that, she suggested we have sex as friends. Things began to develop, but then she was in a horrible traffic accident and neither of us handled things well, and we basically trashed our friendship. We put it back together, but it was never the same.”

“I was at tennis camp, as I said, and caught the guy checking me out every time we were near each other. As I think I said, I asked if he’d seen enough, and he said ‘no’. He was really good-looking and in good shape, and I was attracted to him, so that night I went to his room wearing only a long robe. When he opened the door, I pulled the tie so that the robe opened and I asked if he’d seen enough. He said ‘no’, took my hand, pulled me into his room, shut the door, and pushed the robe off my shoulders. You can guess what happened next!”

“You picked up your robe, put it on, and went back to your room, of course.”

“Not even close! That was the first time I went past second base and I made sure I touched third a few times and had a couple of home runs! We didn’t get much sleep, and we were both dragging on the tennis court the next day.”

She’d approached it the way several of my sister’s friends had, not tentatively or nervously as I had.

“Did you see him again?”

“A few times, but it was just sex, never any kind of relationship. I think I told you I’ve had two boyfriends since then. The first one lasted about four months, but I couldn’t see myself being with him for another four months, let alone for life, so I broke up with him. The second one I broke up with right around the time you came to live with us. I caught him flirting seriously with one of the cheerleaders who had a reputation around school, if you know what I mean. Did you date much in High School?”

“I had plenty of first dates, but not many second ones, most likely because I was too serious and focused. During Senior year, I dated one girl steady for almost the entire year, but we broke up a few days after graduation.”

“Because you were going to college?”

“No, because of church. She refused to even visit my church, and that was pretty much the end of it.”

“Atheist?”

“No. She’s Evangelical. For her, Mary, saints, and all the liturgics were a non-starter. I’d hoped she’d change her mind, and when she flat out refused to even consider it, I broke up with her.”

“I can’t imagine church would be a big deal. Those things obviously aren’t a problem for me, being Catholic.”

“Already have that factored in?” I asked with a slight smile.

“It was pretty obvious how serious you were about it, and even though I might be more casual, I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t stand in the way.”