Chapter 49: Grandmotherly Advice

October 24, 1988, McKinley, Ohio

"I don't see how you could have done anything differently," Clarissa observed when we met in the cafeteria for lunch on Monday.

"Me either, but I like to run stuff like this by you for a sanity check."

"Sorely needed in your case, Petrovich!"

"Love you, too, Lissa!"

"What's your plan?"

"For at least the next few weeks, Kris and I will bring Rachel to dinner on Fridays, then go back to my house. That will give Viktor some time to work on Yulia."

"It seems as if she really hasn't recovered from Elizaveta's death," Clarissa observed.

"As we've heard, losing a child is worse than any other loss, and many people never recover from it. I can't even imagine, and I don't want to."

Clarissa nodded, "As distraught as you were, well, as you say, better to not imagine it. As to the current situation, do you foresee ongoing conflict between Kris and Yulia?"

"I suspect so, and I don't blame Kris at all. If there is one thing I am absolutely sure of, it's that Elizaveta did not want her mom dictating how Rachel was to be raised. And if there's one thing I'm sure of, it's that Kris and I have to be in control of our family and do what's best for our kids."

"Do you think it might have been wiser to not say anything about the adoption?" Clarissa asked.

I shrugged, "Maybe, but I didn't want any doubt in Yulia's mind that Kris is Rachel's mom. I mean, yes, biologically and in my heart, Elizaveta is Rachel's mom, but Rachel never knew her. Can you imagine how it would be with my kids in the future with kids I have with Kris calling Kris 'Mom' and Rachel calling her ... what? Making a distinction makes zero sense to me, and I think it would harm Rachel. Had she known Elizaveta, I might consider something else, but that's not what happened."

"I don't disagree at all," Clarissa replied. "I mean, and please don't take this the wrong way, what Yulia wants is for Rachel to have a ghost for a mom. That runs counter to everything you've said, and I'm totally with you. Father Nicholas didn't disagree at all, did he?"

"No, though I think the events of the last three years have tempered his responses to me."

"You think he's afraid you'll leave the parish?"

"I think that's a small part of it," I replied, "More importantly, Vladyka JOHN has backed me in every instance, and when I went over Bishop ARKADY's head, the Metropolitan backed me."

"The fair-haired boy?" Clarissa asked.

"Or, in each instance, I made the correct decision. The only thing that ever got me in trouble with a bishop was when I basically called out Bishop ARKADY in concert with my grandfather and his friends, which is when the Metropolitan backed me. Father Nicholas can read the tea leaves, and you know Vladyka JOHN's intent."

"Does Kris?"

I shook my head, "No, because the last eighteen months have convinced me that being a deacon is not compatible with being a trauma surgeon. As a GP, it would probably work, because, among other things, you set your own schedule. My Residency is eight years at least, and nine if you count a Fellowship, and, as I've said before, other than serving at the altar, I can do all the duties of a deacon without the official title."

"What do you think the bishop's response will be?"

"He'll accept it, but it's also the case he won't even broach the subject for five years or so, and he may change his mind by then. Remember, he has to grant extreme «ekonomia» to ordain a twice-married man. And that means taking into account the reactions of the laity, and not just at Saint Michael. And he has to answer to his brother bishops."

"I thought nobody was the boss of him, as it were."

"Yes and no," I replied. "The Synod could determine he acted outside his authority and the Metropolitan could order me deposed, which might happen if there was enough of an uproar. Fundamentally, Vladyka JOHN has to gauge the reaction of the faithful in advance. For now, though, it's best to let sleeping dogs lie. There is one other important consideration, and that's the baby you want to have, which would cause a tremendous scandal if I were to be a deacon."

"What do you think Kris will say about that?"

"I have no idea, and this is not the time to broach it. As we discussed, I think the best way forward is that at some point in the future, you approach us about the 'contingency' donation I made and your desire to have a baby and see what she says. My gut tells me that her French sensibilities will, in the end, allow it."

"And you'll be OK with me raising our child with Tessa?"

"I can't imagine that you and I won't see eye-to-eye on child rearing, and Tessa strikes me as someone who'll make a good parent. I think we can work things out, so there aren't any significant conflicts. That said, we have a few years to evaluate the situation."

"You don't think Kris will feel misled?"

"That's the risk, of course, but it is true that the deposit was made before I met Kris, and that you have custody, as it were. So, in the end, it's up to you, though I suppose it would be possible to sue to prevent it, if I was so inclined, which I am not."

"I don't want to wreck your marriage, Petrovich, no matter how much I want to have your baby."

"But not enough to marry me!" I replied with a grin.

"You could have had BOTH of us!" Clarissa smirked.

"Yes, on occasion," I replied. "But, in effect, you and Tessa would be married, and I'd be the 'third wheel', as it were."

"I know," Clarissa replied with a smile, "but it's fun to tease you about it!"

We finished our lunch, and I headed back to Pathology, where the clerk let me know I'd had a call from the University of Cincinnati. I took the message slip from her and went to the small office to return the call, which was, as I'd expected, about scheduling an interview. We agreed on January 13th, and I made a note in my notebook so that I'd remember to add it to my calendar at home.

That left only the University of Pittsburgh, and I expected to hear from them in the next few days. Clarissa had heard from them, but not Cincinnati, though I was positive she would hear from them. She'd also had a call from Brigham and Women's Hospital in Boston, the teaching hospital of Harvard Medical School, and she'd politely declined their offer of an interview.

We'd both received letters from several less well-known hospitals inviting us to apply, one of which, for me alone, was Vanderbilt, and I wondered if that had been Doctor Cooper's doing. I hadn't spoken with her recently, and I had no idea what Annette had said to her about the status of our relationship. It dawned on me that I should at least extend an invitation to the wedding to her and made a note to let my mom know.

"Mike?" Doctor McKnight said from the door to the small office. "Ready?"

"Absolutely."

I got up and followed him to Autopsy A for a routine procedure on an MI who had been DOA in the ED.

October 27, 1988, McKinley, Ohio

"So they did have Pizza Margherita!" Kris exclaimed as we sat down to eat on Thursday evening.

"No, but Antonio's was willing to make it," I replied. "I picked it up on the way home."

"The Italian restaurant, not the pizza place?"

"Yes. Marchelloni's didn't have the proper mozzarella nor the proper tomatoes. Antonio's had both, which they use for other dishes."

"Do they normally make pizza?"

"Only small ones they serve at the bar after the main kitchen closes."

"Thanks for going out of your way to get this."

"You're welcome. If you know how to make a crust, we could find the necessary ingredients to make it ourselves."

"I don't, but I'm sure we can find a proper recipe. If you want a girl who likes to cook and who bakes, you've chosen poorly!"

"Those were not primary criteria in my mind."

"Rachel was first and foremost in your mind, which makes perfect sense. I'd have been concerned if it were otherwise. And after that?"

"Well, being a sexy French blonde didn't hurt," I chuckled.

Kris rolled her eyes, "And that was an actual criterion you had?"

"No, of course not. Being Orthodox was a primary consideration, though being willing to convert would have been OK if everything else lined up."

"Such as?"

"Desire to have children, and tolerance for the demands of my medical training. And, of course, a shared vision of the future, or the ability to reach a compromise."

"Similar to mine, though, as I've said, about four years earlier than I'd planned. And my choice was always going to be a professional of some kind, such as a doctor, lawyer, or engineer, who would be happy with me having a career as a public administrator of some kind. Or, in the past, I thought about being a research scientist."

"Interesting."

"Madame Curie was my role model growing up," Kris declared. "But I decided that future wasn't right for me. But she is still an important role model."

"I'm not surprised, given her amazing achievements."

We finished our pizza, with Rachel getting a small taste, though she made a face indicating she didn't like it. Once we washed the plates and glasses, I gathered my instruments, we put Rachel in her stroller, and the three of us headed to Taft for the final practice before the Harvest Ball gig at Goshen High.

October 28, 1988, Goshen, Ohio

Kris, Rachel and I drove to my moms' house, where Rachel would stay during the gig. We'd decided to stay at my mom's after the gig so that we didn't have to drive back to McKinley. I'd called my mom and made sure it was OK, and she'd agreed, though I'd have to sleep on the sleeper-sofa in the basement, as there were only four bedrooms, and Elaine and April used two of them.

Once Rachel was with my mom, Kris and I headed for Goshen High.

"Rachel didn't cry or fuss being left with your mom," Kris observed once I'd pulled out of the driveway.

"No, she didn't," I agreed. "In fact, she was happy. Which raises the question as to what exactly is wrong at the Kozlovs'."

"You don't intend to take her there for a few weeks, right? And then only to visit, not stay overnight?"

"Correct. In fact, I think I'll start with church, and see if Rachel is OK with Yulia holding her, or whatever, during lunch, then try the same with Anna and Viktor, and see how Rachel responds."

"I think there is something seriously wrong with Mrs. Kozlov," Kris said.

"From everything I've learned, there is nothing so emotionally and psychologically traumatizing as losing a child. She was high strung before Elizaveta's repose, which didn't help. She was hospitalized and went for counseling, which helped, but clearly she's still suffering."

"Mr. Kozlov seems OK."

"He handled it similar to how I did, though he was at least coherent enough to make the necessary arrangements for Elizaveta's memorial service and burial. I was in pretty bad shape, but I had to get my act together because of Rachel. It wasn't easy, but I had quite a bit of help, as you know."

"I can't even imagine how difficult it must have been, but you saw a counselor who helped you."

"I did. And I thought the counselor Yulia saw had helped, but it appears not enough. Anyway, for the time being, it's not something to worry about, and I won't change anything without discussing it with you first."

"I hope that's true for everything."

"Anything to do with the hospital is very much going to be 'informing', not discussing, as pretty much that's how it will be with me. They'll tell me, and I'll do it."

"Yes, of course, and I promise not to complain if you promise not to continually remind me about something you've made clear!"

"Sorry," I replied. "It's a bad habit I developed because so many people don't understand the demands of a medical career."

"Just make sure the calendar is updated and tell me when anything major changes and everything will be fine."

"Is there anything else that bothers you?"

"Ask me after we've lived together for a time! I'm sure there will be things that bother both of us! It's part of getting used to living together. You do have the advantage of having done that before."

"The key to a successful relationship of any kind is communication. So long as we're both forthright and open, we'll be able to overcome any challenges. And speaking of that, I probably should have mentioned that there's a good chance my friend Angie will be at the gig tonight. I let her mom know about it months ago, and the woman who is responsible for making sure everything goes according to plan allows them to attend, even though Angie isn't a student."

"Most of your friends seem to be girls."

"And my best friend has always been a girl; first Jocelyn, now Clarissa. My best guy friends, except for Robby and José, all either have left or are leaving. That includes Dale and Clark, both of whom moved away, and Peter, who is interviewing in Atlanta."

"I wasn't saying that as a negative, only that it's not normal for Americans, who seem to think men and women cannot be friends."

"I take it French culture is different?"

"It's not so hung up on defining relationships the way Americans seem to be, and people tend not to be as jealous or suspicious. Of course, that's not universally true. I am not the jealous type, so you don't need to worry. Of course, that is not license!"

The last bit was said with a silly smile.

"Of course not!" I agreed.

We arrived at the High School and I carried my instruments into the building, along with the satchel containing my sheet music. We found Kim and José in the room set aside for our use, and Kim let me know Sticks was setting up his drums and Kari was doing a sound check with her violin. José and I went to the stage to set up our instruments and do a sound check with the technician from the High School, then went back to relax until the gig started.

"Hi, Mike," Angie said, coming into the room with her mom. "Mrs. Kane said I could come say 'hello'."

"Hi, Ang," I said, standing up. "How are you?"

"OK," she replied.

"I'd like you to meet Kristina Korolyov, my betrothed. Kris, this is Angie Stephens."

The girls exchanged a light hug.

"Come visit, please," Angie said to both of us.

"We will," I promised.

She smiled and left with her mom, and I sat back down next to Kris.

"She seems OK," Kris observed.

"Because they have her medication properly balanced," I replied. "Her speech is a bit slow, but you wouldn't notice because you don't know her, and she didn't say much. But I could hear it, and see her eyes and hair, which are dead giveaways."

"When did you plan for us to visit her?"

"I don't know," I replied. "I'll call Mrs. Stephens next week."

"OK."

A few minutes after Angie left, it was time for us to take the stage to begin the gig. Robby and Sophia did their usual intro, and we began to play. Everything went well, and the kids danced and enjoyed the music, and at the end of the evening, as the third and final encore, I sang Endless Love with Kris. We all took our bows, then packed up our equipment and music.

"See you all a week from Saturday!" I said as Kris and I left the school.

We drove to my mom's house and sat down with her, Stefan, and Elaine.

"Any trouble from Rachel?" I asked my mom.

"She was an angel! She and April get along really well. They were babbling back and forth for much of the evening, but I have no idea what they were saying!"

"I get that from Rachel, too," I said. "She'll reel off a string of syllables, and it's obvious she's trying to say something, but I'm not in tune with her just yet."

"You were totally in tune tonight!" Kris declared. "The kids were really into the music."

"They loved your duet with me, too," I replied.

"A love song at the end?" Elaine asked.

"Endless Love," I replied.

"There are a bunch of Senior boys who are probably very happy right about now!" Elaine declared.

"Is that something you'll say when April is in High School?" Stefan asked.

"I promise to teach her what she needs to know and to have self-respect," Elaine said, sounding as if she was quoting either him or my mom.

"Good," Stefan replied. "Mike, how is your training going?"

"I divide my time between assisting with autopsies and writing reports."

"You're fortunate! Most attorneys spend about twenty times the hours writing than they spend in court. What kind of reports?"

"Autopsy reports," I replied. "They're similar to the lab reports I wrote in anatomy lab my first year in medical school or in biology classes at Taft."

"How is working on dead people helping you learn to be a doctor?" Elaine asked.

"It's similar to our anatomy classes," I said. "I get to use a scalpel and I get to see things that doctors missed. I also get to see things that the person didn't even know about that are wrong with them. And we figure out why people actually died, because sometimes it's not obvious. All of that increases my knowledge and helps me in the future, both with diagnoses and with surgery."

"Kris, what do you plan to study?" Stefan asked.

"Public administration," she replied. "I plan to get a Master's. My undergrad degree will be in political science."

"That's quite different from your path through college, Mike," Stefan observed.

"It is. A couple of my friends went that route, including Jocelyn. If you all don't mind, I'm going to sack out."