Chapter 71: First, Do No Harm

January 10, 1988, McKinley, Ohio

“That is an option I hadn’t considered,” I said to Maryam. “It solves the problem of having a baby, which is the most difficult one. What about the other one?”

“Don’t you think that if you approached Doctor Gibbs, Doctor Roth, Doctor Getty, and Doctor Strong, they’d do their best to match our schedules?”

“I think they just might,” I said thoughtfully.

“And that leaves the actual impediment,” Maryam said. “A proper period of mourning for Elizaveta. You shouldn’t ask for the second kiss until at least the first year has passed since she reposed. That anniversary will be very emotional, and once you get through that, then you’ll be in a position to ask.”

“Because in an emotional state, I might do or say something foolish.”

Maryam smiled, “Our female friends would say ‘will’ rather than ‘might’!”

“Without a doubt!” I agreed. “But you have given me something to consider.”

Rachel cooed and gurgled, and I wondered if that was giving her approval. What Maryam had said had another implication I hadn’t previously considered — Rachel’s birthday would coincide every year with the anniversary of Elizaveta’s death. That would be a heavy burden for Rachel if it wasn’t handled deftly. It was something I’d have to keep in mind so as not to create emotional problems for my daughter by mourning my wife.

Maryam handed Rachel to me and the three of us went to the kitchen so she could prepare dinner, which was typical Syrian cuisine, and delicious. I fed Rachel while Maryam cleaned up, then the three of us sat in the great room until Rachel fell asleep for her evening nap.

Serafima and Elias arrived as planned, and Maryam left at the same time I left for my shift at the hospital.

January 11, 1988, McKinley, Ohio

“Long night?” Clarissa asked before handover on Monday morning.

“Only about two hours of sleep.”

“How did things go on Sunday?”

“Angie is out of it and her psychiatrist still has me on the ‘no contact’ list. I gave Mrs. Stephens one of Stefan’s cards with a goal of replacing Angie’s current psychiatrist with one who has a philosophy closer to mine. And you know I’ve made it my mission in life to have Doctor Greenberg’s license yanked.”

“OK, Don Quixote, tilt at that windmill!”

“First things first, having Angie moved to another doctor, preferably Doctor Hoffman.”

“And Doctor Mercer?”

“I plan to call her when I get home, before I sleep.”

“Oh, that’s a great idea! Get yourself all worked up when you need to sleep? No way, Petrovich. Wait until Thursday morning, after you’ve had a good night’s sleep.”

“Yes, Dear,” I said flatly.

“You’ll do it, too, because you aren’t getting enough sleep as it is.”

“I will.”

We had the handover of fourteen patients, and I headed home to Rachel and Lara. The thing that annoyed me the most about my current shift schedule was that when I arrived home after the overnight shifts, Rachel was usually sleeping. That was the case, so after greeting Lara, I went upstairs, showered, then got into bed. I put on my eyeshades, pulled the comforter over me, and quickly fell asleep.

I slept nearly seven hours, waking just before Rachel needed her bottle, and I fed her while Lara and I ate dinner.

“Maryam proposed a possible solution to her impediments,” I said.

“I’m positive she’s not going to give up medicine,” Lara declared. “So it’s not that.”

“Obviously. There’s a provision, which I knew about, but one to which I didn’t give any thought, that allows a student to Match and then defer their Residency for one year.”

“That would let her have a baby without having to interrupt either school or her Residency.”

“Exactly.”

“What happens then? I mean, for the hospital?”

“They would make it known the Residency slot was available and accept a transfer from another program, usually a PGY2 or PGY3, though they could also open it to the Scramble. Maryam suggested that the Attendings and Residents would very likely accommodate us with similar schedules if we requested it.”

“A neat solution to what had appeared to be an intractable problem.”

“That still leaves the kids with caregivers most of the time, and we’d still have limited time as a couple because we’d be so tired. And we’d struggle for six or seven years, even if we had similar schedules, which won’t always be possible.”

“You and Jocelyn would have had similar problems, even without her accident.”

“True. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not discounting the possibility, just counting the cost.”

“To be what you used to call «некультурный» (nekulturny), I’m willing to bet that under the conservative clothing is a very sexy body you would very much enjoy exploring!” (“uncouth”)

“I believe your assessment is correct. But of all the girls, she’s the one who would insist on waiting for our wedding night. Period. End of discussion. I’m fine with that, but it means the only way to find out is to marry her. That’s the opposite of Annette who will not marry someone without sleeping with them first. A test drive, if you will.”

“There is some logic to that,” Lara said. “And speaking of sexy bodies, was Susana interested?”

“She made it very clear that her timeline was after graduation for marriage, and after graduate school for kids, while my timeframe is much shorter. She also stated that while she’s in school, she wouldn’t be much of a mother to Rachel.”

“Taking herself out of the competition.”

“She doesn’t think she was really in, if you will, though she did say that if things worked out such that I was still available when she graduated, she’d be interested. She admitted having a crush on me from age thirteen.”

“A year younger than Tasha!”

“Yes.”

“And Natalie is a non-starter in your mind, right?”

“I would think so,” I replied. “I don’t think Oksana was trying to mislead me or anything, because that would backfire horribly. If Natalie’s motivation is to escape her parents, similar to Maggie, I can’t sign up for that. Can you imagine the reaction in pre-marital counseling if that came out?”

“Not good. Are you actually going to do that?”

“Who knows? I wouldn’t go to Father Nicholas at this point, so I’d have to get permission from Bishop JOHN to either see Father Alexi, Father Stephen, or Father Luke.”

“Not Father Roman?”

“I don’t think a monk would be a good choice for pre-marital counseling. And Doctor Mercer is out.”

“Weren’t you going to call her today?”

“Clarissa suggested it was better to wait until Thursday than to get myself worked up right before I was going to bed.”

“Wise counsel. If I handicap the race, then I’d say it comes down to Oksana, Sara, or Dani. Well, unless there’s some other wildcard entry! And with ‘Team Babushka’, that is entirely possible!”

I chuckled, “You mean like my grandmother and her friend putting Dani and me together?”

“Or you and Tasha. Or you and Katy. You’ve been down this road!”

“Or Elizaveta and me,” I chuckled. “Though she was the matchmaker!”

“And of course, Maryam and Kari are still in the running, but both longer shots for different reasons.”

“Maryam did make one other point, and that is that I really do need to wait until after the first anniversary of Elizaveta’s repose to marry. She pointed out, rightly, that I’m likely to be very emotional around that time.”

“I would agree,” Lara said.

“And, of course, you could change your mind.”

Lara smiled, “Only slightly more likely than Clarissa changing hers!”

“Because you can no more decide to change your spirituality than she can change her orientation.”

“What about Kari?”

“The jury is out on that one,” I said. “We’re going to Vespers at Taft together starting this week, and we’ll see what develops. I have to give her a legitimate chance to explore.”

“Do you feel obligated because you slept with her? Or because of Doctor Blahnik?”

“I do think I owed it to Anicka to give Kari a legitimate chance, though I think all of us know where it ends.”

“She likes you enough to be your girlfriend, likes having sex with you, but is not thrilled with the idea of being a mom, and her timeline for marriage was after graduation.”

“I’d say that’s a good analysis.”

“Speaking of liking sex...” Lara smirked.

“If the Tsarina deigns to take an evening nap, I wouldn’t mind spending some time in the bathtub and the bed.”

Fortunately, Rachel did take a nap, allowing Lara and me to share a bubble bath and then a long, slow screw.

January 13, 1988, McKinley, Ohio

Monday and Tuesday nights at the hospital had been relatively calm, so I was able to get some sleep, which meant that I only needed about four hours of sleep after I arrived home on Wednesday. That let me spend more time with Rachel, and some with Lara as well. Lara left just before 4:00pm, and Oksana arrived at 4:30pm as planned, carrying my new blackout curtains.

“Hi!” she exclaimed. “Would you get the basket and cooler from my car?”

“Yes, of course! Rachel is napping, so we should be able to get the curtains hung.”

“I wasn’t sure if we’d need it, but there’s a small stepladder in the trunk of the car.”

“I’ll get that, too, rather than have one of us stand on a chair.”

I made two trips to the car, then Oksana and I went upstairs to hang the new curtains.

“Perfect!” I exclaimed when we finished. “I can tell, even though it’s fairly dark out, that these will do exactly what I need!”

“They should also keep the bedroom warmer than the thin curtains we took down.”

“Thank you!” I said, holding out my arms.

We hugged, and as she usually did, Oksana put her head on my chest and sighed deeply. I realized Oksana was, more than any of the other girls except perhaps Maryam, developing an emotional attachment, and suddenly, the danger of doing things the way I was came into clear focus.

The problem was I didn’t know how to prevent it, nor what I could do about it, given I had been clear to all the girls, except for Dani, that I wasn’t ready to make a commitment. The course of action Maryam had suggested — waiting for the anniversary of Elizaveta’s repose — seemed to be the best. She understood it, and was, in effect, hedging her bets by the way she was handling things.

That reïnforced my inclination to avoid physical intimacy with Oksana, and that would extend to Dani as well. That particular concern didn’t apply to Maryam, as she’d made it clear by her behavior from the moment I’d met her, that she was waiting for her wedding night. Things with Dani hadn’t progressed beyond our brief talk, and they might never progress beyond our upcoming lunch on Sunday.

“Mike,” Oksana said quietly. “Do you want to?”

Of course I did, but I also didn’t.

“It’s not a matter of wanting to,” I replied, “but the commitment it implies. Someone suggested that I should wait an appropriate amount of time after Elizaveta’s repose before making any commitment. I mentioned my emotional state, and I think the end of August is going to be very difficult. Would you be happy if we did that, and then I married someone else?”

“No,” Oksana said quietly. “But it wasn’t a trap.”

“I didn’t take it that way,” I soothed. “I simply acknowledged what it would mean. You agree, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Then we should wait until I’m able to make a commitment.”

“You’re right,” she sighed. “It’s just that ... thinking about possibly being married got me to thinking about that, and...”

She sighed and didn’t complete the thought. She didn’t have to, as it was obvious her heart, mind, and body were each struggling for supremacy, and when we hugged or kissed, it was her body that was ascendant, and it was up to me to help her not do something she would surely regret if we didn’t marry. She was unlike Kari, who placed no particular value on virginity and saw no need to limit herself to a single intimate partner, though it was possible it would work out that way if we ended up together. And while Kari might have an emotional attachment, and might be disappointed, she wouldn’t feel betrayed if we broke up.

“A challenge encountered by everyone at one time or another,” I said. “Elizaveta and I were betrothed for eight months, so I totally understand the struggle. Shall we go downstairs?”

“Yes,” Oksana replied. “I need to start making dinner.”

She looked up, and it was obvious she wanted a kiss, and after a soft kiss, we left the bedroom and went downstairs. She prepared a wonderful meal, and after dinner, she left so she could attend Vespers. Lara arrived after Vespers, and after our evening prayers, we put Rachel into her crib, and then Lara and I went to my bedroom.

“I see the new curtains,” Lara observed. “Those should really help.”

“I agree. Heavy material with a black backing, and slightly oversized so no light leaks in at all. Obviously the eyeshades work, but they are not comfortable to wear all night. On the other hand, they help tremendously in the on-call room.”

“They’ll work as blindfolds!” Lara declared as we climbed into bed.

“When we get to the light bondage?” I asked.

“Yes! Also, I have an idea for the other girl, but you need to agree before I even ask.”

“Who?” I asked.

“A close friend from back home named Kaitlin. I’m pretty sure she’d go for it, but obviously you would have to meet her and you two would have to be attracted to each other.”

“How long have you known her?”

“Since seventh grade. She’s two years older, because of my skipped grades. She’s a Senior at Penn State studying finance, and plans to get her MBA and take the CPA exam. We get together whenever I go home, and we talk on the phone. She’s not involved with anyone right now, and always had a bit of a wild streak.”

“I suppose all you can do is see how she responds,” I replied. “And then invite her to visit.”

“OK for her to stay in the guest room?”

“Yes. You should wait to decide when she visits until I get my schedule for February.”

“That’s Friday, right?”

“That’s when it should be out, but it could be Monday when I see it if they don’t post it first thing on Friday morning.”

“OK. I’ll call her, talk about it, and gauge her interest. As well as I know her, I can’t think of any reason you won’t like her, including being a sexy black-haired girl with green eyes.”

“A deadly combination, though as I’ve said to Rachel, Daddy has a thing for redheads!”

“No kidding!” Lara said, laughing. “Angie, Kari, Sheila, just to name three! Of course, I have black hair, and wouldn’t mind your ‘thing’ being used to stuff a small pussy covered with soft black fur!”

I laughed and pulled her to me so I could fulfill her desire.

January 14, 1988, McKinley, Ohio

On Thursday morning, when Rachel went down for her mid-morning nap, I said the Jesus Prayer forty times to put myself in a proper frame of mind, then dialed Doctor Mercer’s number. Her receptionist asked me to hold, saying that Doctor Mercer was finishing with a patient, but absolutely wanted to speak to me. About eight minutes later, Doctor Mercer came on the line.

“Hi, Mike.”

“Hi, Doctor Mercer. I saw Angie on Sunday.”

“Oh, I know. And Doctor Greenberg is livid.”

“I don’t care. Doctor Greenberg shouldn’t even be a doctor after what amounts to gross malpractice.”

“Choosing a valid treatment option is not malpractice, Mike.”

“I agree. He chose an invalid treatment option. What physician, if they cared about their patient at all, would do something that was guaranteed to crush that patient’s spirit and ensure they were forced to accept treatment they neither chose nor wanted? Riddle me this — did Angie need psychoactive drugs before Doctor Greenberg precipitously destroyed her psyche?”

“Mike, you know...”

“Forget it, Doctor Mercer,” I said, not wanting to hear her ‘defense’. “What I know is that Angie was basically back to the Angie I knew, and was making progress towards her goals. Maybe she couldn’t achieve what she wanted, in fact, I suspect she wouldn’t have, but to crush her spirit, destroy her psyche, and consign her to a lifetime of drug-induced stupor would be the very definition of malpractice, if it wasn’t condoned by what laughably passes for mental healthcare.

“There was, literally, no need to do it. None. It was not in Angie’s best interest in the short or long term. It was cruel and unnecessary, and I’ve made it my mission to ensure Doctor Greenberg loses his license. Maybe I won’t succeed, but at least I have the chance to do it, something he denied Angie for no defensible reason. I will advise you, because I’m sure you’ll hear, that I referred Mrs. Stephens to my stepfather with a goal of transferring Angie to the care of a psychiatrist who actually has empathy for her patients and believed the way Angie was being treated was wrong.

“And, before you say it, I know that Doctor Greenberg has legal responsibility for Angie’s care, and that’s why I sent Mrs. Stephens to an expert in custody and child welfare cases. Doctor Greenberg is going to have to testify, under oath, about his destructive behavior. Well, unless he’s smart and doesn’t fight the transfer. But even then, I won’t give up, even if it takes me the rest of my life.”

“Are you done?” Doctor Mercer asked.

“No,” I said calmly. “I have plenty to say to you as well, but feel free to respond.”

“You’re emotional about this, Mike, and aren’t looking at it objectively.”

“You’re right. But that in no way changes the indisputable fact that Angie was fine until Doctor Greenberg elected to destroy her psyche and spirit and then drug her into submission. Those are facts, Doctor Mercer, and are incontrovertible. Father Stephen will testify, as will I, as will Mrs. Stephens. I’m sure others will as well. It’s a simple cause and effect, and he had no need to do it. And YOU have culpability because you should have known what would happen, and you still saw fit to report something that was literally not a problem.”