Chapter 68: Introductions

January 6, 1988, McKinley and Columbus, Ohio

Monday and Tuesday nights had been much calmer than Saturday and Sunday, and I managed to get a few hours of sleep each night, which helped. Unfortunately for my sleep, but necessary for my plans, Kylie woke me at 4:55am on Wednesday morning.

“Thanks for coming in,” I said.

“I owe you a huge debt, Mike! Have a good day!”

“Thanks. Nothing overnight.”

“OK.”

She hugged me before I left the on-call room, then I left the hospital and drove home. At home, I showered, had breakfast, then changed and fed Rachel.

“Hi, Mike,” Serafima said, coming downstairs.

“Morning. I take it Elias left for work?”

“He did. I’m going to head home. Susana will be here on Saturday morning, as we discussed. I’ll come by to let her in around 11:00am so she can have your lunch ready when you get home. You’ll bring Rachel with you, right?”

“Yes. So I’ll be home around 12:30pm.”

“OK. I’m going to go home.”

“Thanks for all your help!”

Serafima left, I packed Rachel’s bag for the day, then we headed to Columbus.

January 6, 1988, Columbus, Ohio

“Good morning, Mike,” Subdeacon Paul said when I walked into Dormition of the Mother of God Cathedral.

“Good morning. I’m guessing His Grace would like to speak to me.”

He smiled, “Yes. I’ll bring the two of you lunch in his office.”

That was likely to interfere with my grandmother’s plans, but there was no way to say ‘no’ to the invitation from His Grace.

“Do I bring Rachel?”

“I believe Mrs. Dimitrijevic is ready to care for her.”

Or perhaps Serbian women had complete control of their environment, even more than Russian women!

“Then please tell His Grace I accept his invitation.”

He went into the nave and I hung up my coat, hat, and gloves, then removed Rachel’s coat, hat, and mittens, put them on the shelf next to my hat. I picked up the shoulder bag with her diapers and bottles, and a woman my grandmother’s age came up to me.

“Hi Michael.”

“Hi, Mrs. Dimitrijevic,” I said, making an educated guess.

“After the service, I’ll introduce you to my granddaughter and we’ll take care of Rachel while you have lunch with the bishop.”

“Thank you.”

“I spoke to your grandmother, and she said you need a wife and Rachel needs a mother. My granddaughter needs a husband! A perfect match!”

“May I at least meet her before you schedule the betrothal?” I asked with a smile.

Mrs. Dimitrijevic smiled, “I am sure you will like her!”

I wanted to be careful not to do or say anything that could be understood as a commitment, though I realized my joke might be taken as such. On the other hand, I didn’t want to do anything which would give Mrs. Dimitrijevic a legitimate reason to complain to my grandmother.

“I look forward to meeting her,” I said.

We wouldn’t have much time, because I needed to be back in McKinley no later than 5:00pm to have dinner with Oksana. Mrs. Dimitrijevic walked away, and I took Rachel into the nave. I felt relaxed and at peace during the services, and when I carried Rachel forward for the Eucharist, I elected to receive as well, despite not having been to confession for an extended period of time.

When the service ended, I carried Rachel forward to kiss the cross, then went out into the nave. Two minutes later, Mrs. Dimitrijevic came up to me with a young woman who was looking down at the floor.

“Michael, this is Danijela; Danijela, this is Michael.”

Danijela was dressed conservatively, which was the norm for the Cathedral, though she was one of the few younger women who wore a headscarf in church. Almost none of the young women at Saint Michael did, and none of the teens at Holy Transfiguration did. In recent years, it had mostly been converts who did so, but even that had fallen away in favor of the more typically American casualness about dress. Just as most men no longer wore hats in public, most Orthodox women in the US, except in ROCOR, no longer wore headscarves in church.

Danijela was about four inches shorter than me, was relatively thin, and wore no makeup, which was common for Orthodox women attending services. Lipstick was a particular problem, as it would mar the icons, the chalice, and the blessing cross, not to mention leaving residue on cheeks from the ‘kiss of peace’. There was strong discouragement of all makeup, but lipstick was, in effect, banned.

“Hi, Dani,” I said, remembering what my grandmother had said.

“Hi,” she said shyly, not making eye contact.

My grandmother had said Dani was a receptionist in a doctor’s office, so I knew she couldn’t be shy in every circumstance. I wondered if she was actually interested, or if she was being pushed to do something she didn’t really want to do.

“Nice to meet you,” I said.

“And you,” she said quietly, still not looking up.

“Danijela and I will take Rachel,” Mrs. Dimitrijevic said.

I carefully handed Rachel to her, then handed over Rachel’s bag.

“She’s going to want to eat right away,” I said.

Rachel fussed a bit, but I was positive she’d be OK because she’d be hungry and wouldn’t fuss too much if I wasn’t around because she would actually want to eat. I kissed her cheek, then walked to Bishop JOHN’s office, where he was waiting. We greeted each other, and I asked for his blessing. A minute later, Subdeacon Paul brought in two plates of food and a teapot, pouring tea for both the bishop and me.

“Thank you, Subdeacon,” Bishop JOHN said. “That will be all.”

Subdeacon Paul left, closing the door behind him. Bishop JOHN said a blessing, and we began to eat.

“So, Mike, how are you?” Bishop JOHN asked a few minutes later.

“Tired, Vladyka,” I said, then explained my shift schedule.

He shook his head, “A difficult challenge, but only for a month, right?”

“Yes. I won’t know my schedule for February for another ten days or so, but I checked, and medical students aren’t usually scheduled at night for the psychiatric service. That means I should have a normal schedule, though I might have to work on Saturdays or Sundays.”

“You’re continuing to rely on the same young women to help you with Rachel?”

“Lara remains Rachel’s primary caregiver, and that will continue until August. Rachel’s godmother has arranged for a rotating group to help, and that includes Subdeacon Mark and his wife, and my in-laws.”

“I’ve heard from Viktor that Yulia is doing much better.”

I nodded, “She is, and that allows Rachel to spend more time with her, though always with Anna, Viktor’s daughter-in-law, present.”

“Viktor says things are good between you two.”

“Yes, they are. The stress of what happened has affected all of us, and I don’t hold any ill will.”

“Good. I heard from Father Nicholas that you were suffering spiritually.”

“I hope he explained why.”

Bishop JOHN nodded, “He did, and I suggested that he should not have tried to speak to you on the morning of Nativity and should have spoken to Father Alexi before anything was said. He’s done that now, and while I do not know the details, it would appear Natalya Vasilyevna is very angry with you, though Father Alexi has been unable to get her to speak about it.”

“I was very harsh with her,” I replied. “I feel it was justified, but I hope you’ll forgive me for not revealing the source of the conflict, except to say that I have not, and will not, have any kind of relationship with Tasha except as friends. The main reason for that is the same one that led us not to marry in the first place. I can’t say more, as it’s up to her to discuss it with Father Alexi or you.”

“Thank you for your discretion. How is your relationship with Father Roman?”

“In its infancy,” I replied. “He made some modifications to my prayer rule and fasting rule, and I have a call planned with him for Friday. Just so you’re aware, I’ll be attending Saint George on Sunday morning so that I can see Angela Stephens. I’ll most likely attend Sunday liturgies for January here at the Cathedral. My schedule allows that, and I think from a spiritual standpoint, it’s healthier. I’ll discuss it with Father Roman tomorrow.”

Bishop JOHN smiled, “Good. I’ve counseled Father Nicholas to leave your spiritual health to Father Roman and to me. Your mentality is much closer to that of an ascetic monk than to that of a typical parish priest.”

Except with regard to sex, I thought, but didn’t say.

“One of my friends commented that had it not been for my medical career, there’s a very good chance it would have been Monk Michael, Father Michael, and, God forbid, Bishop Michael.”

“God forbid?” Bishop JOHN asked with a raised eyebrow. “And yet you maneuvered me into this office?”

“What’s the saying, Vladyka? Better you than me?”

“I think your friend is probably not far from the truth. I’m curious, and there is no requirement that you answer me, but chastity?”

“I’ve been able to remain chaste when I’ve desired to, and not when I haven’t. And desire is the root cause of all sin — sin is easy to avoid if we want to, but we often don’t want to. It’s simply a matter of wanting to live a sin-free life and controlling our passions through prayer and fasting. Two thousand years of spiritual wisdom and practice have shown that it works if we apply it.”

“A keen insight. And the cause of that desire?”

“Is found in our mortality. We struggle against the desires of our mortal flesh, which is difficult, but as I said, the Church has, through God’s grace, provided the necessary tools to overcome that desire if we elect to use them.”

“You think it’s possible to be sinless?”

“Possible? Yes, of course, but statistics seem to indicate Paul is correct in saying that all have sinned and have fallen short of the glory of God. Theosis, or deification, must rest on the principle that it is possible for us to be sinless, like Christ, who was fully man and also fully God. If there was something different about his humanity, then salvation is impossible.”

“You quote theology to a bishop as if he were a Sunday School student!”

“Forgive me, Vladyka.”

“There is nothing to forgive! That was not a reprimand, but an observation that you are unafraid to speak the truth, even to your bishop. Let me ask you this — do you think I have achieved theosis?”

“At the risk of being what my Dutch grandmother would call ‘cheeky’, I would say the answer you want is a resounding ‘no’.”

“But do you believe it?”

“Yes, I do.”

“And do you think I have perfect knowledge and perfect theology? And have no need to be taught?”

“I know many faithful who believe that, but I know it’s not true. To give a parallel, the Chief Medical Officer at the hospital — the Medical Director — does not have perfect knowledge or perfect skills, and has a need to learn.”

“One of your best qualities is your willingness to speak the truth to anyone, without regard to their office or station; I suspect that has also landed you in more trouble than anything else you might have done.”

“You suspect correctly. I’ve been told a few times by my instructors to, in effect, back off. I do pick my battles because I want to achieve my goals, but I don’t remain silent.”

“No kidding,” Bishop JOHN said dryly.

I laughed, “Father Nicholas has been on the receiving end more than once. And, all kidding aside, that’s what happened with Tasha. I spoke the truth and it upset her greatly. If I erred, it was not speaking the truth in love.”

“And that is about temperament. If you have one area to improve, that is it. I say this with love, but you often allow your righteous anger to overwhelm you, and that causes you to act precipitously and without sufficient thought.”

“I don’t disagree,” I replied.

“Then I expect you to work on controlling that.”

“Yes, Vladyka.”

“On a different matter, a little birdie whispered in my ear that your grandmother and Andrijana Dimitrijevic are conspiring to bring you together with Danijela.”

“You are very well informed,” I replied with a grin.

Bishop JOHN laughed, “As if the women tried to keep such things secret! Father Luke is aware as well. He asked me to tell you that Danijela is a wonderful, sweet, devout young woman who has a peaceful demeanor.”

“I met her,” I said. “She seems terminally shy.”

“I don’t know her well enough to say, but if her grandmother behaved as grandmothers usually do, I think you might understand.”

I nodded, and I could see that being the case if Mrs. Dimitrijevic had told Danijela directly that she was being ‘matched’ to me, as if it were a fait accompli. That would be enough to make the typical eighteen-year-old uncomfortable. Elizaveta, and the girls Serafima was ‘parading’, as Lara had put it, were acting on their own volition, which would make all the difference in the world. They also knew me, and had been around me for more than six years, while I had first met Danijela earlier in the day.

“I do understand.”

“Then, let us finish our lunch so you can have a few minutes to ensure your grandmother does not decide you didn’t try!”

“My grandmother is a pussycat,” I replied. “It’s Danijela’s Serbian grandmother who worries me!”

“Me, too!” Bishop JOHN declared mirthfully.

“Not to mention Serafima Gronov, who was Elizaveta’s best friend, might take exception to someone jumping the queue!”

“Where did you pick up British English?”

“TV as a teenager, but more recently from reading The Lancet, the British medical journal. I’ve taken to calling injections ‘jabs’ and using some similar British terms because I find The Lancet to be a much better publication than JAMA, the Journal of the American Medical Association.”

“Are you joining us for the Great Blessing of the Waters?”

“I planned to, but then I’ll need to head back to McKinley. One of the young women is bringing me dinner.”

“Then I will see you at the rivers!”

I asked for and received the bishop’s blessing, then went to find where the women had absconded with Rachel. Unsurprisingly, I found them in the parish hall, with a dozen young women all fawning over my daughter. It was obvious if I didn’t spoil her, they, or their counterparts at other parishes, certainly would.

“Thank you for watching Rachel, Mrs. Dimitrijevic,” I said.

“You’re welcome! She had her bottle and a fresh diaper, and she’s enjoying the company of the young women of the Cathedral!”

“Any chance I can reclaim her?” I asked.

“All the girls have had a chance to hold her, so I would say ‘yes’.”

I carefully took my visibly content daughter from Mrs. Dimitrijevic, observing what I recognized as a smile from Rachel when she saw my face. I decided it was best to take the bull by the horns with regard to my grandmother’s matchmaking, so I turned to Danijela, who looked down immediately, once again avoiding eye contact.

“Dani, would you like to have coffee and talk?” I asked.

“She would!” Mrs. Dimitrijevic declared. “I’ll get coffee for you two. Come, girls, let’s give them some privacy.”

The gaggle of pre-teen and teen girls reluctantly followed Mrs. Dimitrijevic, and I sat down at the table across from Danijela. I waited until two cups of coffee were set on the table before I spoke.

“I’m sorry if your grandmother pushed you to speak to me,” I said. “If you aren’t interested, I’ll understand. We can simply finish our coffee and go to the river for the service to bless the waters.”

Danijela remained silent, which fit my theory of her grandmother basically ambushing her with what amounted to a directive to marry. What I needed was a way to break the ice, or at least attempt to do so, so that I could report back to my grandmother that I had tried.

“My grandmother tells me that you’re working in a doctor’s office,” I said. “What kind of doctor?”

“A pediatrician,” Danijela replied quietly.

“I’m doing my pediatrics rotation now, which means I have four nights in the hospital and a half-day in a medial office with a pediatrician. What do you do for the doctor?”

I knew the answer, but I was trying to draw her into an actual conversation.

“I’m the receptionist,” she replied. “I answer the phone, schedule appointments, greet people when they arrive, type letters, and arrange for couriers for samples to go to the lab.”

“Do you enjoy it?”

“Yes. I like meeting people, especially kids.”

“You didn’t want to go to college?”

“No.”

“What else do you do besides work?” I asked, continuing to try to draw her into a conversation.

“I sing in the choir, teach kindergarten Sunday School, and play the frula and tambura.”

“For Serbian folk music?” I asked, recognizing the stringed instrument and the six-hole flute-like woodwind.

“Yes. I’m in a small group of Serbian girls who play folk music for festivals.”

“I’m the lead singer and second guitar in a band,” I replied.

“What kind of music?” she asked.

“Mostly covers of 60s, 70s, and 80s rock and pop music. I also play the balalaika, but I only know a few songs.”

Danijela smiled, “The theme song from Doctor Zhivago?”

“Yes, of course! And a few folk songs.”

“Do you sing in the choir?”

“No. Growing up, I was an acolyte, and I’m sure you know I was a subdeacon and deacon before Matushka reposed.”

“I knew that, yes, and I was very sad to hear what happened to your matushka. Your little one should have a mother.”

“I agree,” I said. “What do your parents do?”

“My father teaches math at Ohio State. My mother teaches fourth grade.”

Which made me wonder about why Danijela chose not to go to college.

“I’m curious,” I said. “With two parents as educators, why not go to college?”

“My mother didn’t receive her teaching certificate until I was fifteen,” Danijela said. “She stayed at home with me and my two younger brothers. I think that’s the right thing to do.”

Of course, she could have gone to college, and still do what her mother had done, which made me think Danijela was expecting to marry soon. If that was the case, it put a slightly different spin on her reaction — she was looking for a husband, and was simply nervous, not shy. That fit my grandmother’s comment of ‘needs a husband’, confirmed by Danijela’s grandmother.

“My mom is a legal secretary and paralegal; my dad is a supervisor in the Harding County Building Department. How old are your brothers?”

“Fourteen and eleven. Their names are Luka and Nikola. Do you have brothers or sisters?”

“I have a sister who is almost twenty-two, and a brother who is almost one. My parents divorced a few years ago, and my father and his new wife had a baby. My sister’s name is Elizabeth, but she goes by Liz; my brother’s name is Peter.”

“That must be quite strange, to have a brother the same age as your daughter. Well, he’s a bit older, but only a few months.”

“It is. What’s even stranger is that my dad’s wife is five years younger than I am.”