Chapter 48: What Have You Done to Her?

October 21, 1988, McKinley, Ohio

"Hi, Petrovich!" Clarissa exclaimed when we went for a lecture which would update us on the UNOS transplant network, which had now been in operation for two years.

"Afternoon, Lissa!"

"I wasn't sure if you'd come to the lecture because you won't really have much to do with transplants."

"It's an interesting topic. You know we don't have time to read much outside our areas of expertise, so things like this where we're given time to attend while on shift are valuable.

"Any hints as to how Rachel will react?"

"No, but I have a secret weapon if I need to get her to stop fussing or crying."

Clarissa laughed, "Grapes, right?"

"Good guess! The French fries in the cafeteria aren't crisp, and I don't like them at all. The Steak 'n' Shake ones that Rachel really likes are far better."

"You're taking her to her grandparents' house, no matter what?"

"Yes. If she fusses the entire time there and refuses to eat, I'll have a chat with Viktor and see if we can figure out what's bothering Rachel and come up with a plan."

Clarissa smirked, "Two grown men, defeated by a toddler!"

"And probably not for the last time," I chuckled.

We took seats near Maryam and Fran, and a minute later, Peter, Lauren, and Debbie joined us. The lecture, which lasted only forty minutes, was interesting, and when it finished, Clarissa walked with me to daycare as she usually did on Fridays.

"CLA!" Rachel exclaimed happily when she saw Clarissa.

"I've seen this movie," Clarissa said quietly as I took Rachel from Jackie.

"You're going to your grandparents' house, young lady," I said,

"NO!" Rachel screeched. "MAMA!"

"You'll see Mama tomorrow," I said.

Rachel fussed and reached for Clarissa, and when I didn't comply, Rachel started squirming and fussing.

"She really doesn't want to go for some reason," Clarissa observed.

"So it seems," I replied.

We left daycare and headed to the parking lot, where Rachel struggled as I put her in the car seat.

"MAMA!" she wailed and started crying.

"You're sure you want to take her?" Clarissa asked.

"Yes, because otherwise there's a potential she'll never go."

Clarissa and I hugged, then I got into the car with my unhappy toddler, and headed for the Kozlov's' house, which was about five minutes away. What I found strange was that Rachel, without being able to tell time or read a calendar, seemed to know her schedule, despite the fact that it changed every two months, and sometimes during a rotation. One thing was certain — there were few, if any, sounds more jarring than a crying baby. The only one I could think of which came close was chalk scratching on a blackboard.

When we arrived at Viktor's house, I offered Rachel grapes, and when she refused them, I knew I was in deep trouble, because she had never refused grapes. I took a deep breath, let it out, and picked up Rachel from her car seat. I grabbed her bag, slung it over my shoulder, and walked to the front door with her bawling at the top of her lungs. As had become my habit, I knocked, rather than walking in.

"What's wrong, Rachel?" Anna asked, opening the door for me.

"She's in a mood," I said. "She started fussing as soon as I picked her up from daycare."

"We'll take good care of her," Anna said, holding out her arms.

"NO!" Rachel protested.

I ignore the protest and handed Rachel to Anna, along with Rachel's bag. I asked where Viktor was, and when Anna said he was in his study, I went there.

"Hi. Mike. How is my granddaughter?"

"Having a hissy fit," I replied. "But she's with Anna now, so hopefully she'll calm down. She's become very contrarian and insistent on getting her way."

Viktor smiled slyly, "So, it begins at the toddler stage!"

"Next, you're going to tell me Elizaveta was like that as a toddler," I replied with a smile.

"In fact, she was. The battle between her and her mother for supremacy started around then, though Elizaveta was mostly subtle about it until she decided to marry you. Then it became open warfare, as I'm sure you remember."

"Oh, I do. And I constantly advised her to be less confrontational, though I don't think Rachel is any more willing than her mom to back down from what she wants."

"The eternal struggle with children," Viktor replied. "Even Geno, as close as we are, had his moments of rebellion, though they basically disappeared when he started his Senior year of High School and decided he wanted to take over the family businesses. Joe, on the other hand, is still rebellious, though reality is pushing him to tone it down a bit."

"I think California is the place he ought to be," I replied. "This area is far too conservative for his tastes."

"This area is perfect for raising a family," Viktor observed. "Speaking of family, would you and Kris join us for our mid-afternoon meal tomorrow?"

I couldn't think of any reason Kris would object, so I felt I should accept the invitation.

"Yes, of course," I replied. "3:00pm as usual?"

"Yes."

"Then I'm going to head home to get ready for my date with Kris," I said.

Viktor nodded, we shook hands, and I went to the great room to kiss Rachel goodbye, and discovered she was still upset.

"DADA! MAMA!" she whined.

"Tomorrow, Rachel," I said, kissing her forehead.

"NO!" she insisted.

"Go ahead and go, Mike," Anna said. "Rachel has just entered the 'terrible twos' a bit early. Little Viktor has an equally impossible attitude."

"OK," I replied.

I left the house, got into my car, and headed home. I showered, dressed, and then went downstairs to update the weekly grocery list. I had just finished when Kris arrived. We greeted each other as we usually did with a chaste hug, and she came into the house.

"How was Rachel today?"

"Upset," I replied. "I believe she's decided she doesn't want to be at her grandparents' house for some reason, and that's going to cause conflict."

"Yes, but it's not as if you did something to cause it!" Kris protested. "Rachel is simply expressing her will!"

I nodded, "I know that and you know that, but I fear my former mother-in-law will not see it that way."

"So, what will you do?"

"I'm not sure. In any event, we're going to have dinner at their house tomorrow. We'll have breakfast, go to band practice, do our shopping, then join the Kozlovs for dinner at 3:00pm. OK?"

"Do I have a choice?" Kris asked with a slight smile.

"Absolutely. I can easily call Viktor and let him know. Do you not want to go?"

"It's fine, but I don't want to make a habit of it. Your former mother-in-law seems to be what you Americans call a 'control freak'."

That was a reasonably accurate description of Yulia, but I had to be careful because no matter what else might be true, Rachel was her granddaughter.

"I don't disagree," I replied. "It's going to be a difficult balancing act, especially when you and I have kids together. What I won't do is allow Yulia to control our lives, which requires figuring out how to ensure Rachel has a relationship with her mother's parents, while maintaining control of our family. Elizaveta and I actually struggled with Yulia over our decisions.

"The biggest conflicts are going to arise around Nativity, Pascha, and Rachel's birthday. My grandparents and my mom have certain wishes, but we can only accommodate them so far. The same will be true with your parents. Given their wishes, which were expressed in the past, we can't even reasonably divide the time. Honestly, the only way forward is to do what you and I think is right for our family, and our parents and grandparents will simply have to accept our decisions."

"I also don't want our children treated differently if we can avoid it," Kris said firmly. "I mean, of course, they'll each have their own personalities, needs, and desires, but you know what I mean, I hope."

I nodded, "That if Rachel gets special treatment, it could cause resentment or other problems. What do you propose?"

"I don't have a proposal at the moment. I think we'll have to figure it out as we go along."

"So, like everything else in our relationship!" I replied.

Kris smiled, "Yes. Teamwork and compromise by equal partners, though I understand there are no compromises to be made with regard to your medical training, as that's decided by the medical community and the government."

"True. Shall we head to the restaurant?"

"«Absolument!»" Kris replied, her eyes twinkling because she knew I loved her French accent.

October 22, 1988, McKinley, Ohio

"What time can you be in Goshen on Friday, Mike?" Kim asked after practice.

"I can easily be there by 6:15pm," I replied. "Friday afternoons are flexible."

"Good. Are you available Thursday for an extra practice?"

"I could do that, but I'll need to get someone to watch Rachel."

"Already taken care of!" Kim declared. "I spoke with Doctor Blahnik and she agreed."

"Thanks. I'll be here on Thursday. Kris, can you make it?"

"What time?"

"7:00pm," Kim said. "That's about the soonest you can make it, right Mike?"

"Yes, to get home from the hospital and have time for a quick dinner. Kris, if you're OK with it, I can order a pizza so we can eat before we come to practice."

"That works."

I packed up my instruments and music, and after bidding my bandmates goodbye, Kris and I began walking to my house.

"What do you want on your pizza?" I asked.

"I prefer Pizza Margherita."

"I'm not sure the pizza place has a specialty pizza like that," I said.

"Then find a place that does!" Kris declared.

"Well, you can eliminate Pizza Inn and Domino's for sure. If Marchelloni's doesn't have it and won't make it, I'll call Antonio's, the Italian restaurant that delivers, and ask them."

"What's so difficult about making a Pizza Margherita?"

"The specific tomatoes and the fresh basil," I replied. "But let me find out before we make a federal case out of it!"

"What does that mean? 'Make a federal case'?"

"In the past, there were very few federal crimes, so it would have been a big deal to be charged with a crime by the federal government rather than the state government. So, 'make a federal case' out of something would mean make it a really big deal."

"That is one thing I find strange about the US — each state has its own laws and they can even contradict each other. And licenses for things like being a lawyer or doctor are issued by the states, not the national government."

"That's the very definition of 'federalism'," I replied. "But our system changed significantly during the Great Depression."

"What Americans foolishly refer to as 'socialist' when all the means of production were still owned by capitalists who operated them for profit, even when they provided essential goods and services."

"The most accurate description I've heard is 'regulatory state', where the means of production are owned privately, but are regulated by the government, allegedly for the benefit of the public."

"Yes, of course, because regulation has kept the banks in line!" Kris said sarcastically. "Just look at the current crisis with the Savings and Loans! And I am sure some politicians are up to their eyeballs in this mess!"

"I don't doubt it."

"In Europe, with such a crisis, a Parliamentary government would normally either resign or fall to a no-confidence vote."

"I've heard of scandals in France, though I don't know too many details. Did they all result in a change of government?"

"No, because sometimes the party under whom the scandal happens has scapegoats and wins because the people accept the sacrifice."

"Watergate basically ensured Jimmy Carter would be elected, though it was closer than many people thought it might be, and it helped the Democrats in the Congress."

"But it didn't last, right? President Reagan was elected to replace Carter after just one term, right?"

"Yes. They do have banks in France, do they not? And they are privately held?"

"Yes, of course! France is not socialist, even if the party is called 'Socialist'. Even Sweden, under the Social Democrats, had private ownership of businesses operated for profit."

"And that's a problem in your mind?"

"When the workers and the public are exploited for profit, yes. And I am positive you agree in at least one instance."

"Go on," I said.

"Could you make a lot more money working in a big hospital?"

"Yes," I replied, sensing where she was going.

"Then why work at a smaller, less important hospital?" she asked.

We had discussed my reasoning, so she knew my answer, of course.

"To serve my community."

"So you give up personal profit, and the chance to be wealthy to serve your fellow citizens, right?"

"Yes, but that's a choice I've made, not one compelled by others. In the end, that's the most important point — I am free to choose."

"Even at the expense of your fellow citizens?"

"They are also free to choose."

"Are they? Really? Doesn't it come down to having enough money?"

"The alternative is no better, as it basically results in forced labor."

Kris laughed, "And that's different from the next eight or nine years how?"

"OK, bad example!"

"No, it's not!" Kris declared. "And in truth, isn't it only the capitalist who decides his own salary or return?"

"Unions?"

"I believe you could ask the Air Traffic Controllers and find out what they think. Or workers who are prohibited from going on strike."

"I still think the profit motive has produced the most wealth in history," I offered.

"And created tremendous disparities," Kris countered.

"Compared to say, the serfs versus the Tsars? Or the common people and the aristocracies in France and England?"

"We have no aristocrats!"

"You have no hereditary aristocracy, but you have powerful families, do you not?"

"Which, if the system were actually Socialist, would not be so."

"The people of the USSR are calling and would like a word with you! On the other lines are the rest of the countries behind the Iron Curtain!"

"Leninism and Stalinism are not true socialism! They violate the basic principles of «liberté, égalité, fraternité»! One must follow those to achieve proper socialism!"

"Have you read Animal Farm?" I asked.

"No, but it is on our reading list for next semester."

"Read that, then we can discuss how those systems always turn out."

"I won't stop trying to make a good socialist of you!" Kris declared.

"Nor I a good capitalist of you!"

Kris laughed, and we went into the house. I stowed my instruments and music, then we went out to the car.

"I want to stop at the record store before Kroger," I said. "There's a new album that they're holding for me."

"What album?"

"A supergroup consisting of George Harrison, Jeff Lynne, Bob Dylan, Roy Orbison and Tom Petty," I replied.

"OK," Kris agreed.

We got into the car and I drove to the record store where Johnny had my album at the counter.

"Johnny, I've told you about Kris," I said. "This is her."

"Hi, Kris!" Johnny said. "Nice to meet you."

"And you as well," she replied.

"Anything else hot in the upcoming releases?" I asked.

"Neil Diamond, Guns 'N' Roses, and Pink Floyd all have new CDs coming out, but nothing exciting from what I've seen."

"OK."

"Just this CD then today?" Johnny asked.

"Yes, please."

I paid for the CD, thanked Johnny, and Kris and I left to head to Kroger for our weekly grocery shopping. After Kroger, we stopped at Hartman's Bakery for bagels for Rachel and fresh bread. Our shopping complete, we headed home, and I put on my new CD, Traveling Wilburys Vol. 1, in the CD player, and quickly checked the liner notes which said the artists had all taken 'stage names' with the surname 'Wilbury' for the group — Harrison was 'Nelson', Lynne was 'Otis', Petty was 'Charlie T.', Orbison was 'Lefty', and Dylan was 'Lucky'. I put the CD case on the shelf, then went to the kitchen to help put away the groceries.

"How do you see the division of labor in the marriage?" Kris asked.

"You'll have the babies," I smirked.

Kris rolled her eyes, "Obviously! But that's not what I meant and you know it!"

"Of course I do! I think the answer is that I agree to an equitable division which takes into account the amount of time I have available, which will be severely limited for the first year of Residency. I am not looking for a maid. I think we can hire one, though, at some point! We need to put all that filthy lucre we'll earn to work!"

"Tsar Michael and his servants?" Kris asked with a silly smile.

"Doctor Mike and his limited time for the next ten years, who doesn't want his wife, who has her own studies and career to worry about, to have to shoulder all the burden. Not to mention both of us needing time for the kids. We might even need a nanny at some point, depending on our schedules and the timing of kids."

"Are you trying to turn me into a «haute bourgeoisie» American?!" Kris asked.

"It's all practical. We can make use of daycare at the hospital and at the parish, but given my schedule, at least for a few years, we'll probably need some additional help. Rachel's godmother has helped out a lot, as has Subdeacon Mark's wife, Alyssa. But my mom works full time, as do your parents. So, we can't be 'proles'!"

Kris laughed, "Of course you would use that word that way!"

"I'll remind you that your parents are certainly members of the «haute bourgeoisie»! They are educated professionals who own a house and have investments, not 'wage earners' whose main possession with any economic value is their labor! I'm sorry, but there is nothing 'noble' about being a peasant, serf, or propertyless worker. Next thing I know, because I'm in a band, you're going to call me «lumpenproletariat»!"

"OK, OK! You aren't completely ignorant of socialist theory!"

"I had a very good teacher in High School who covered the basic systems of political organization and economics. So I can, believe it or not, tell you the differences between Stalinism and Maoism, despite both being lumped under 'communism'."

"Which is a dirty word here."

"Because of the USSR and Red China," I replied.

"The US has always been anti-socialist," Kris countered. "The 'First Red Scare' occurred when Eugene Debs led opposition to World War I."

"The President who 'kept us out of war' took us immediately into that war after he was re-elected."

"He was a racist, was he not?"

"Wilson? Yes. He instituted segregation in hiring for the federal government and during his first term, the Army and Navy both refused to commission any black officers and discriminated against those who already had their commissions. Commissions resumed after the US entered World War I, but all-black units were mostly led by white officers. In the Navy, blacks were relegated to mess or janitorial duties, or acted as servants to white officers."

"And you wonder why there was a socialist movement?"

"Not to make excuses, but America's history on race is complex, and doesn't fall neatly into Marx's economic or social systems. Remember, he was writing for German, French, and English workers, not Russian peasants or, in America, former slaves. Lenin and Trotsky both dismissed those groups' revolutionary potential, while Mao embraced it."