Good Medicine Senior YearChapter 56 Holy Week and Pascha Part I
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Good Medicine - Senior YearChapter 32: Love Covers A Multitude Of Sins free porn video
November 13, 1984, McKinley, Ohio
On Tuesday, Elizaveta’s dad invited both of her grandfathers to join us for dinner at the country club. I enjoyed talking with them the way I’d always enjoyed talking with my grandfather’s friends, much to my mom’s displeasure, though that was mostly because of the ‘coarse’ language I’d picked up from them. All of my conversations with my future in-laws had been in English, after they’d asked that first time, and it was quite clear that to them it was much more important that their granddaughter marry a faithful Orthodox man than marry someone to preserve Russian culture.
“Would you like to hear a very bad joke, Mike?” Valentin asked.
“Sure,” I replied, having heard plenty of bad jokes from my grandfather’s friends.
He laughed and told the joke:
A Briton, a Frenchman, and a Russian are standing and staring at an icon of Adam and Eve.“Look at their calm, their reserve,” says the Briton. “Surely they must be British!”
“Nonsense!” Replies the Frenchman. “They are beautiful. Surely they must be French!”
The Russian finally speaks, “They have no clothes, no shelter, only one apple to eat, and are being told this is Paradise. They are Russian.”
I actually laughed because not only was it funny, but given the conditions in Russia, completely accurate.
“I have one as well,” Nikolay said.
A Russian and American die and go to hell.The devil asks them: “What kind of hell will you choose: Russian or American?”
“What’s the difference?” the American asks.
“Well,” the Devil replies, “In the American hell you eat a bucket of «навоз» each day. In the Russian hell, you eat two buckets.”
The American choses the American hell, but the Russian thought, “All my life I lived in Russia, and I am true Russian! I’ll go to Russian hell!”
About a month later, they meet, and the Russian asks, “How are you?”
The American replies, “Well, today I ate a bucket of «навоз» in the morning and the rest of the day was free. What about you?”
The Russian smiled, “Ah, as always: either «навоз» was not delivered or not enough buckets for everyone.”
I laughed, though I’d heard that one from one of my grandfather’s friends when I was little.
“Mike, who were the young people at Vespers on Saturday?” Valentin asked.
“Two High School Seniors who came to the theological debate at the school. I’d say if they show up again next Saturday they’re inquirers. I think, based on what they said to me, and the questions they asked, they’ll become catechumens.”
“Very good. The Parish Council has talked for years about a campus ministry, but we never had anyone who was interested.”
He had been on the Parish Council for nearly twenty years, though he had asked not to be nominated during the most recent election.
“I spoke with Father Nicholas about that, but given the demands of medical school, and more importantly, the demands of a new wife, it’s not practical for me to consider doing that.”
“Not just new wives, Mike!” Nikolay said with a knowing smile.
“As if you have ANYTHING to complain about!” Valentin said, shaking his head. “You married the most beautiful girl in the church, who was sought after by ALL of us!”
“And it has been a very demanding job keeping her happy for nearly fifty years!” Nikolay replied.
“Yes, well, if you weren’t such a blockhead...” Valentin said, winking.
I laughed, “I think all of us suffer from that problem.”
“And the women are quick to remind us!” Viktor replied. “And apparently, we need reminding quite often!”
“Our bishops fear no men...” I grinned.
“But fear EVERY woman!” Valentin declared, completing the thought. “Vladyka did ask Elizaveta’s permission to ordain you, after all!”
I chuckled, “I don’t think it was permission, as much as ensuring agreement with his decision. Though obviously, a ‘no’ from her would likely have spelt the end of any chance at ordination.”
“Quite so,” Valentin replied. “Is there anything you need that we can help with?”
“Thank you for the offer, but at this point, it’s a matter of finishing my degree and staying out of the way of your wives as they plan the wedding.”
“Very wise! Back to the point about the campus ministry. Even if you did not have sufficient time to actively participate, would you at least be willing to work with a small group, created by the Parish Council, to see if we could make it happen?”
“Within the limitations I mentioned before, I would participate if Father Nicholas gave his blessing for me to do so.”
“Viktor, please convey this to the Parish Council at the next meeting.”
“I will. Mike, when will you start attending the monthly Parish Council meetings?”
“Probably not until after my ordination,” I replied. “There are just too many demands on my time at the moment. And that means anything which isn’t mandatory has to take a back seat. Neglecting my studies, Elizaveta, my family, my new family, and my friends would set a terrible example and create all sorts of potential problems.”
“How long will you have to serve at the cathedral after your ordination?” Valentin asked.
“Until Protodeacon Seraphim is satisfied I know how to serve the liturgy as a deacon. I watched Father Deacon Vasily for many years while I was serving as an acolyte at Holy Transfiguration, as well as Father Deacon Grigory when I came to Saint Michael the Archangel and became a subdeacon, so I have much of it committed to memory. I’m hoping it’s only a few weeks, because school starts about four weeks after the proposed ordination date.”
The waiter brought our food, and after I gave the blessing, we began to eat, which limited the conversation to small talk. When we finished eating, we had coffee, and then I headed back to campus to join my study group.
November 16, 1984, McKinley, Ohio
On Friday afternoon, after class, I took the things I’d need during break to Doctor Blahnik’s house, including my guitar. When I got back, I gave Lee a lift to the hospital so he could have his wrist x-rayed to ensure it was healing properly, which thankfully it was. I drove him back to campus, then headed to Elizaveta’s house to pick her up for dinner, and then the two of us went to Doctor Blahnik’s house for the concert.
“Thank you for letting us do the concert here,” I said to Doctor Blahnik when we walked in.
“I’m as offended as you are by a rule which prevents your fiancée from coming into the dorms, but jousting at windmills would do neither of us any good, and it would be Quixotic to try to change the minds of the regents on that issue with the problem we had last year.”
“Oh, I know. And I hadn’t even thought about it until I spoke with Elizaveta on Wednesday night and she asked if there was any way she could come to the concert. I would have felt like a total jerk taking her home after having dinner while I gave a concert.”
“I hope you didn’t get into too much trouble!”
“He didn’t!” Elizaveta said mirthfully. “I just asked if he could sneak me into the dorm! He thought that was a bad idea, which is why he talked to you on Thursday.”
“The last thing Mike wants to do right now is attract negative attention from anyone! One more month and then one more semester and he’s finished.”
“Ain’t THAT the truth!” I smirked.
“Hey!” Elizaveta exclaimed, smacking my arm.
“If you understood that as being about you, then YOU were thinking the same way!” I teased.
“Doctor Blahnik,” Elizaveta asked with a twinkle in her eye. “may I have a private moment to educate my husband?”
Doctor Blahnik laughed and walked out of her study where we were talking, closing the door behind her. Elizaveta proceeded to give me a VERY sexy French kiss and pressed her young, firm body against mine.
“You were saying?” she asked when she broke the kiss.
“Should I just surrender now?” I asked, catching my breath.
“Yes!” she exclaimed. “Shall we go to the music room?”
“If that’s where you want to go right now, «Котёнок»” I teased.
“No,” she sighed, “but we promised.”
“I know,” I replied.
I hugged her and we left Doctor Blahnik’s study and went to the music room where José and Milena were waiting. All our friends, plus some invited guests filled the music room so the audience overflowed into the great room. That wasn’t really a problem, because with the double-doors open, the music could be enjoyed in either room.
José, Milena, and I ran through our usual repertoire, with a few new songs, and when we finished and our friends and guests called for an encore, Milena stood up.
“We’re going to do something special tonight,” she said. “Elizaveta, would you come to Mike, please?”
She smiled and came to sit on my lap, bringing with her sheet music.
“This is Mike and Elizaveta’s song,” Milena said.
She sat down at the piano and played the intro to Up Where We Belong, and on cue, Elizaveta led off a song we’d practiced several times, including with Milena the day before when Elizaveta had her piano lesson with Doctor Blahnik.
Elizaveta: Who knows what tomorrow brings; In a world, few hearts surviveMike: All I know is the way I feel; When it’s real, I keep it alive; The road is long, there are mountains in our way; But we climb a step every day
Duet: Love lift us up where we belong; Where the eagles cry on a mountain high; Love lift us up where we belong; Far from the world we know, where the clear winds blow
Mike: Some hang on to “used to be”; Live their lives, looking behind
Elizaveta: All we have is here and now; All our life, out there to find
Mike: The road is long, there are mountains in our way; But we climb them a step every day
Duet: Love lift us up where we belong; Where the eagles cry on a mountain high; Love lift us up where we belong; Far from the world we know, where the clear winds blow
Mike: Time goes by; No time to cry; Life’s you and I; Alone, baby
Duet: Love lift us up where we belong; Where the eagles cry on a mountain high; Love lift us up where we belong; Far from the world we know, where the clear winds blow; Love lift us up where we belong; Where the eagles cry on a mountain high; Love lift us up where we belong
Everyone leapt to the feet and the applause seemed thunderous, despite there being only about fifty people in the two rooms. Elizaveta gave me a chaste kiss and we stood up and bowed. Our closest friends gathered close around.
“Damn, Petrovich,” Clarissa exclaimed. “You two made ME cry!”
“Me, too!” Jocelyn added. “Amazing.”
“Thanks,” I replied, slipping my arm around a beaming Elizaveta.
“I hadn’t heard this before either,” José said. “Just wow!”
“What he said!” Sarah added.
“«Это было удивительно!» Lara said to Elizaveta.
“«Спасибо»!” Elizaveta replied with a smile.
“She called it ‘amazing’,” Clarissa whispered to Jocelyn.
“First-dance song?” Jocelyn asked.
“Yes,” I replied. “We thought about keeping this for later, but once we decided to move the concert here, we agreed to do it.”
“How long have you been practicing?”
“A few weeks,” I replied. “But Elizaveta sings in the choir at church on Feast days and fills in occasionally on Sundays.”
Everyone got refreshments and we were congratulated personally by just about everyone in attendance. Unfortunately, because of my commitment to Elizaveta’s dad and our desire to avoid any possible issues with Elizaveta’s age, we had to leave before most everyone else to get her home.
“That was amazing,” Elizaveta said as we walked back to campus to get my car. “Even more than when we practiced.”
“It’s the audience,” I replied. “It makes all the difference in the world. I didn’t realize it until the first time I sang in public. Somehow, energy just flows from them.”
“That was the first time I ever sang in public except church!”
“And you did an amazing job. Our voices worked perfectly together!”
“Just like other things will?” she teased.
“Six months!” I replied.
“Is this where I say it’s not fair?” she asked.
“You can, but that won’t change anything.”
“It’s not fair!” she complained.
“Did that make you feel any better?”
“No! But you could!”
“Do you plan to tease me about this all the way until May 26th?”
“Who said I would stop teasing you AFTER we’re married?”
“A man can hope,” I grinned.
“Good luck with THAT wish, husband!”
November 17, 1984, Milford, Ohio
On Saturday, after saying goodbye to my friends who were heading home for Thanksgiving, Elizaveta and I had breakfast with Paul and Liz in Rutherford, then headed to Milford for our pre-marital counseling session with Doctor Mercer.
“There’s been a significant change in your relationship the past month,” Doctor Mercer said. “I’m concerned.”
We were talking one-on-one after she’d spoke the Elizaveta and me together.
“That did NOT happen, Doc,” I grinned. “She’s certainly VERY interested in doing that, and so am I, but all we’ve done is kiss. Nothing more will happen before our wedding. We gave our word to each other, to the priest, and to you.”
“You need to be very careful, Mike. Being alone with her is dangerous in that your hormones could easily outrun your willpower.”
“Oh, I know, but if I could fend off Tasha for three years, I can handle this situation for six months. Tasha was extremely frustrated because I wouldn’t go back on my promise to her.”
“And yet you did.”
“This is different,” I said. “But your advice to be careful makes perfect sense, and we will.”
“Do you have any concerns?”
I shook my head, “No. I told you about my initial concerns, but once we had the betrothal ceremony, it was like someone flipped a switch. She is very mature, and very much in control of herself; and very much in control of our relationship!”
“And you’re OK with that?”
“If I wasn’t, I sure as heck wouldn’t have asked a Russian girl to marry me!”
Doctor Mercer laughed, “You’ve had some experience in that regard, I’m sure.”
“Yeah,” I chuckled. “‘Some’. But in all seriousness, given what I asked her to sign up for, I think I do need to do my level best to follow her program, if you will. Not in the sense that I’ll be a wimp or submissive like my dad, but at times I’m going to treat her like crap out of necessity. And that means making absolutely sure her needs are met at other times.”
“Do you love her?”
I grinned, “She’s growing on me.”
“You are a real Smart Aleck at times.”
“It’s a work in progress, Doc. She’s made more progress in that regard than I have.”
“So you noticed that?”
“I’m not a complete idiot,” I replied.
“No, not ‘complete’,” Doctor Mercer replied with a silly smile.
“Thanks,” I replied flatly.
“You’re mostly operating on your decision, not a feeling, while she’s mostly operating on feeling now.”
“I’d say that’s right, but I’m working on it. I really do like her, I really do enjoy spending time with her, I think we’re going to make a great couple, and I’m positive I’m going to enjoy the marriage bed - repeatedly!”
Doctor Mercer laughed, “You do realize that’s not enough, though, right?”
“Of course it’s not enough! I’m not ready to say ‘I love you’ to her, and mean it the way she’s going to want me to mean it, but that will happen. Everything I’ve read about arranged marriages indicates it takes time, but so long as you work at it, it often becomes a stronger bond than romantic love. The difference is, I’m not relying on romantic love to get us through the tough times, because it won’t and it can’t. It has to be deeper than that; it has to be «agape», which is really hard work. And she knows that, too.”
“You’ve talked about it?”
“Not quite that bluntly, but about the hard work we’ll have to do to have a successful marriage. It would be a heck of a lot easier if I wasn’t going to be a doctor. That just adds a near-infinite amount of stress to the relationship for the first six or seven years. But we’re both fully aware of it, and it’s why she talked to a doctor’s wife before she even approached me.”
“Before I speak to Elizaveta alone, how are things at home?”
“Not much has changed as far as I can tell. We’re going to stop in and see my parents, though I suspect it’ll only be my mom who talks to both of us. I’ll try again with my dad, but I don’t hold out much hope. But I’m not going to give up unless he tells me to never speak to him again, and even then, I’m not sure that would be enough to give up.”
“When is your sister’s wedding?”
“December 11th. It’s before a judge and supposedly takes less than ten minutes, but I’ll be there. Elizaveta’s dad signed a permission slip for her to miss two afternoon classes so she can join Jocelyn, Clarissa, and me to support Liz.”
“Will your mom be there?”
I shrugged, “I have no idea. If she is, and she’s alone, I’m pretty sure that will be a death knell for my parents’ marriage.”
“How do you feel about that?”
“Shitty,” I sighed.
“For you to use that word means you’re close to despair.”
“Should I be jumping for joy and doing cartwheels?”
“No, of course not! But untreated depression is a dangerous thing, as you well know.”
“Jocelyn?”
“And Angie. We tried reducing the anti-depressants a bit and she began to regress. We put her right back on the necessary dose to bring her back to what’s ‘normal’ for her.”
“Cause or symptom?” I asked.
“Both,” Doctor Mercer replied. “You know about feedback when you put a mic in front of a speaker? It’s like that. The depression intensifies her mild schizophrenia and that really is the key to keeping her on an even keel. And obviously avoiding triggers, which for her seem to all revolve around sexual activity, including deep kissing. And no, we have no idea why. We’re not giving up, but, to be honest, her best course of action is not to try to have a romantic relationship, ever.”
“That sucks,” I sighed.
“Unless we can somehow get to the root cause AND fix it, it’s the right way to do this. Minimal drug therapy and intensive counseling. You saw how she was and the progress she’s made. That’s a HUGE win, Mike. The alternative was institutionalization or suicide, either active or passive. You won’t like me saying this, but I consider our treatment of Angie a rousing success, given the alternatives AND what we know about her.”
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