Chapter 43: The Elephant in the Room

December 1, 1987, McKinley, Ohio

When I left the pediatric practice, I swung by the rental house to try the keys and to get a first look before we moved in. The house was similar to Doctor Blahnik’s, though it wasn’t quite as big, and didn’t have the guest room on the first floor. The floors were wood, with area rugs, and the heating was forced hot water. The bedrooms were large, and the master bathroom had a large soaker tub.

I locked the house, then headed home to feed Rachel. I thanked Lara, she left, and I fixed Rachel’s bottle. As I usually did, I sat in the rocking chair while she drank her bottle.

“I had an interesting conversation this morning,” Anicka said.

“I bet!”

“I told her you’re a handsome, very well-endowed young man who is an expert lover and who has a bright future!”

I laughed, “No, you didn’t, because you won’t let on that I curled your toes!”

“Who curled whose toes?” Anicka retorted.

“Mutual?”

“Mutual!”

“So what did you say?”

“That’s actually between Kari and me, because she spoke to me in confidence. I think you’ll hear from her.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome!”

Serafima arrived a few minutes later, and after I finished feeding Rachel, I turned her over to Serafima, then headed to the apartment Clarissa and Tessa shared. Clarissa greeted me with a nice hug and a quick peck on the lips.

“I’ve been waiting YEARS to do that!” she said.

“Can anyone do that?” Tessa inquired with a sly smile.

“What do you think, Lissa?”

“Anything she gets, I get twice!”

“Somebody is greedy!” Tessa exclaimed.

Clarissa smirked, “What does the song say?

“Wow, Lissa!”

“Deny it, Petrovich!”

“The last line I would deny, but you did remake me.”

“I don’t think I’ve met two people who loved each other more than the two of you,” Tessa said. “And no, that doesn’t bother me.”

Clarissa smiled and gave me another peck on the lips, then stepped aside. Tessa hugged me, though she pressed against me a bit more than Clarissa did and gave me a soft kiss on the lips.

“You know,” I said with a grin, “I told Rachel just last night that Daddy absolutely likes cute redheads!”

“Back off, Petrovich!” Clarissa growled menacingly. “I found her first!”

Tessa and I both laughed and the three of us went to the kitchen so Tessa and Clarissa could finish making dinner.

“How was your first day in pedes?” Clarissa asked.

“Great! Doctor Braun let me do initial vitals and give injections.”

“And the kids loved you, right?”

“They did.”

“Bribery?”

“No. I didn’t think it was a good idea to bring candy with me on my first day! And mostly these kids are all just getting checkups. The only one who was angry with me was a four-year-old who needed a vaccine booster.”

“Boys enjoy doing the jabbing but not being jabbed!” Tessa smirked.

“You can take that to the bank!” I declared.

“How did your date go last night?”

“Rachel mostly slept,” I replied. “Kari was totally overwhelmed. She had a chat with Anicka this morning.”

“The professor you live with?” Tessa asked.

“Yes. Kari is one of her scholarship students. Kari asked if it was OK if she spoke to Anicka, and I agreed. I think, though, that my life is too complicated and too overwhelming for a college freshman.”

“You were betrothed to a High School Sophomore and married her before her Junior year began!” Clarissa exclaimed.

“I think circumstances have changed just a bit from then, don’t you? And that I’m carrying a bit more baggage now than I was then?”

“Before Lizochka took over and whipped you into good shape?”

“Didn’t you just claim to have done that?”

“You’ve always been a team project, Petrovich. And somebody had to turn you into a man who could care for Rachel.”

“She was supposed to be here to help me,” I said, feeling tears well up in my eyes.

“Shit, Petrovich. I’m sorry.”

“It’s OK,” I replied, sniffing. “It’s only been three months and I still get these random melancholy moments. I probably will for a long time.”

Clarissa handed me a tissue which I used to dab my eyes and blow my nose.

“Yeah, but I shouldn’t have said what I did.”

“Why not?” I asked. “It’s true. And you walking on eggshells doesn’t help our relationship. Or me. You know I can’t afford to have something like this happen in the hospital.”

“Did something happen last night?” Clarissa asked.

“No. I had my guard up. I let it down around you, at least in private.”

“I’m happy you feel comfortable enough to do that around me,” Tessa said.

“Petrovich believes we’re permanent,” Clarissa said. “So he’ll treat us like any other married couple, even if we don’t use that word.”

“Too much Judeo-Christian baggage for me,” Tessa said. “We need a different word. Let the fundies keep their stupid word, just give us the same legal rights.”

“You know my church has the same basic take on the whole ‘gay marriage’ thing, right?” I asked.

“Yeah, but YOU don’t. And nobody at your church has said a negative word to either of us, including your bishop. I can’t say the same for the idiots who attend Faith Bible or similar churches. Would you say there is any common teaching between your churches?”

“There are certainly doctrines which appear, on the surface, to line up, but their grounding and application are completely different. They teach what Paul called ‘another gospel’, which is best understood as a ‘false gospel’. But I don’t think you invited me here for a theological discussion!”

Tessa smirked, “No, only to make us see god!”

“Tess...” Clarissa warned gently.

“It’s OK, Lissa,” I said. “The fact that she feels comfortable around me is a good thing, given you two are a couple.”

“Thanks, Mike,” Tessa said with a smile. “I’m grateful! And dinner is ready!”

We sat down at the table and I was surprised when Tessa asked me to say a blessing, which I did.

“What’s your favorite thing to eat?” Tessa asked with a slight smile.

“I’m not touching that with a ten-foot pole!” I grinned.

“Leave it to a guy to exaggerate the size of his pole by at least an order of magnitude!” she teased.

I laughed, hard, then said “Nice rejoinder!”

“Can I ask a serious question?” Tessa inquired.

“Sure. Go ahead.”

“Did you tease like this when you were a deacon?”

“Only with my wife, really, but on occasion, and very carefully, with Clarissa. And it was usually her saying something about either Elizaveta or you, nobody else.”

“Petrovich has always had a thing for redheads, starting with Angie.”

“That’s the girl who was at Taft with you, right?”

“Yes,” Clarissa confirmed. “They called her ‘Mrs. Loucks’ because it was so obvious to all of us that they were going to marry before she had her problems.”

“You mean before her illness presented itself in a clinical way,” I replied. “Angie was suffering from the time she was sixteen or seventeen.”

“Don’t go all ‘Doctor Mike’ on me, please,” Clarissa requested. “You know what I meant.”

“I do,” I confirmed. “But given how poorly mental illness is understood, I feel a need to make sure we communicate information accurately, as we do with any other patient.”

“I’m curious,” Tessa said, “but how do you handle intimate exams?”

“Ask Clarissa! Rumor has it she likes pussy as much as I do!”

Both Tessa and Clarissa laughed.

“I made that point the other day,” I continued. “That a female examining a female could face the same challenges as a guy examining a female, if the doctor were a lesbian. The same goes for a gay doctor and a male patient. But anyone who suffers from that paraphilia has no business being in medicine.”

“Paraphilia?”

“Generally, being aroused by atypical objects, fantasies, or situations. In this case, the inability to be purely clinical would interfere with the practice of medicine. There’s nothing inherently wrong with being interested in female genitalia, but there is in that specific circumstance. Being gay or lesbian used to be classified that way, though the terminology has changed.

“And to put a finer point on it, not everything that deviates from the, as you put it, Judeo-Christian norm, is a paraphilia. Things like roleplaying, sex toys, light bondage, and so on, are not necessarily paraphilias, so long as they are consensual and are not the only way the individual can become aroused. There’s debate on that, of course, but the consensus is moving towards not classifying things humans have done for all of recorded history as ‘paraphilias’.”

“Such as?”

“I think the best example are sodomy laws which, in some instances, prohibit oral sex even by married couples. We know, for a fact, that oral and anal sex have been practiced from ancient times, and with varying degrees of acceptance. Those laws purport to make what I assume you and Clarissa do illegal, and in some states, things Elizaveta and I did. I believe Texas passed a law about fifteen years ago which made selling sex toys illegal.”

“People need to mind their own damned business!” Tessa growled.

“You’re preaching to the choir, as it were,” I replied. “I said the same thing about Robby and Lee, and also about Elizaveta and me.”

“Because she was sixteen when you married?”

“Yes. I’ve had people who ought to know better say that it couldn’t possibly be legal. Well, it is, and it fits with the age of consent being set at sixteen.”

“What do you think of that?”

“I think it probably should be one year older than whatever my daughter’s age is whenever she thinks about doing it,” I said piously.

“Seriously?!” Tessa gasped.

“He’s yanking your chain!” Clarissa interjected, laughing softly. “He’s no hypocrite! And I’m pretty sure he thinks fifteen or sixteen is where the age of consent should be set.”

“Somewhere around there,” I replied. “You can’t really draw a firm line, because in my mind, it’s about being mature enough to accept the consequences, but the law doesn’t work that way. It needs some kind of bright line and our legislature picked sixteen. That said, at this point, a sixteen-year-old is too young for me, given the massive gap in life experience. Even with girls who are eighteen or nineteen, there is a sufficient gap in life experience that I have to be very careful. Kari is a perfect example.”

“She’s nineteen, right?” Clarissa asked.

“Yes, and is staring into the abyss of ‘instant family, just add ring’ with a widower who is a medical student.”

“I’m not sure anyone’s life experience, except another medical student, would be enough,” Tessa said. “I see what goes on with Clarissa.”

I nodded, “Elizaveta was a unique young woman, and her determination to make it work overcame some of that experience gap. She was also very mature for her age, but truthfully, many of the Orthodox teens are. And that’s at least partly because we treat them as young adults from around age twelve or thirteen, and give them responsibilities and allow them to participate in decision making at church. That’s around the time most kids start going to confession, too.”

“Just in time to tell the priest the good stuff!” Tessa teased.

“He’s heard it all,” I replied. “And, honestly, if he had that specific paraphilia, he has no business being a priest.”

“You mean getting off on confessions about sex?”

“Yes. We don’t do full psych profiles on seminary candidates, but their spiritual fathers examine them in both confession, and in counseling sessions, to ensure they have the proper frame of mind.”

“And you confess everything?”

“Yes, though without details. My usual approach was to say that I sinned sexually, and that was sufficient, as I hadn’t engaged in adultery or any illegal sexual activity.”

“You compare the two?”

“No; I’m just giving examples where more would need to be said than just confessing to fornication. In the case of adultery, no names would be asked. In the case of criminal sexual activity, the priest would first encourage me to turn myself in, and if I didn’t, and the victim was under sixteen, he’d turn me in himself.”

“And violate the sanctity of the confessional?”

“Our priests are required to report any crime against a minor. The only possible gray area would be what I’d call a High School romance. They don’t have to report a High School Senior having sex with a High School Sophomore, even if the Senior is eighteen. Now, make that a College Freshman and a High School Sophomore, and they would be required to report it. The thing is, most people only confess to fornication, and priests do not ask for details, so the instances of reporting from confession are rare.”

“What about battered women?” Tessa asked.

“They’d be assisted in any way possible, and if the abuse were obvious, a call to the police would be made, usually after consultation with the bishop. The required reporting is only about minors.”

“What happens if a priest were to cheat on his wife?”

“A funeral!” I chuckled.

“Certainly in Petrovich’s case!” Clarissa declared. “He’d have been a ‘dead man walking’!”

“In all seriousness,” I said, “he’d be deposed from the priesthood immediately. Fortunately, that’s rare. The fact that most of our priests are married gives them a proper outlet for their sexuality.”

“Unless they’re gay.”

“That’s true, but it’s also true of anyone who is unmarried and elects to copulate. The difference, if you will, is that heterosexual couples have a sanctioned outlet for their sexuality, while homosexuals do not.”

“But you don’t seem to have a problem with it. Robby and Lee; Peter; Clarissa and me.”

“I love all of you,” I said. “And I am not about to cast stones when I am equally, if not more, sinful. The teaching of the Church does not override Christian love. It cannot. And if you want to see the fundamental flaw of Western Christianity, that is it — they place God’s righteous judgment above the statement ‘God is love’ with predictable results.”

“The idiots at Faith Bible.”

“Among others. You aren’t going to hell for being lesbian any more than Jason would for being left handed.”

“You equate those two?”

“Both are congenital traits,” I replied. “And while you might mask them, they are still who you are. Learning to write with your right hand doesn’t change the fact that you are naturally left handed any more than having sex with a guy would change the fact that Clarissa is naturally attracted to females rather than males. Think about the instances of long-married men coming out as gay.”

“Fake it until you make it?” Tessa asked.

“Not quite, but I get what you’re saying. Part of the problem is that we’re so quick to try to classify everyone to check a specific box on some form. That created foolishness, such as ‘one drop of black blood’ makes you ‘black’ laws. Sexuality is just as varied as race and attempts to put everyone into the ‘straight/gay’ categories are doomed to failure.

“It’s more, hmm, like a three-dimensional matrix where you plot your sexuality, which is always subject to change, especially around the edges. You’ll try things which push your comfort level, and decide they’re OK or not OK, and over time, your desires change, along with your willingness to try new or different things. If you want to self-identify as lesbian or bisexual or straight, that’s fine, but most people don’t fit neatly into boxes.”

“You’re straight, right? I mean, completely?”

“Yes. I have no desire, latent or otherwise, to have sex with guys. And Peter has no desire, latent or otherwise, to have sex with girls. He’s also completely uninterested in having children by any means. Robby, on the other hand, is clearly bisexual, and has been since he was a teenager. He’s chosen to commit to Sophia, which came as no real surprise to me, given what I knew about him.

“But the thing is, even saying that I’m ‘straight’ and Peter is ‘gay’ and Robbie is ‘bisexual’, doesn’t actually explain our sexuality, because it’s more complicated than that. What we like, and what gives us pleasure, is not going to be the same. And trust me on this, I have zero interest in finding out about anyone else, except perhaps in a clinical context. There are all sorts of acts that can be done, which someone might not enjoy or be comfortable with, even if they check the ‘straight’ box.”

“It’s so weird hearing someone who is, excuse me, a religious zealot, talk openly about sex AND be comfortable with deviations from societal norms.”

“I’m not normal in any way!” I chuckled.

“Ain’t that the truth!” Clarissa teased.

“Love you, too, Lissa!”

“Is this where we finally bring up the elephant in the room?” Tessa asked.

“I’m not that big,” I chuckled.

Both girls laughed hard, and fortunately, neither of them had a mouthful of food or were drinking, as they’d have sprayed it all over the table.

“Clarissa told me about that passage in the Bible,” Tessa said when she stopped laughing. “I didn’t believe her, so I borrowed a Bible from a woman at work and looked it up.”

“There’s a lot more of that kind of stuff in the Christian Scriptures, if you know how to either read between the lines or, more typically, can see through the attempts to clean it up by the translators. Most important, at least from my perspective, is that Jesus effectively addresses sex only twice — the so called ‘woman caught in adultery’ and serial monogamy. But in both cases, what he was really addressing was hypocrisy and double standards.”

“Then where does all the puritanism come from?”

“A mix of Paul and the Old Testament, combined with cultural taboos.”

“Didn’t Jesus say marriage should be forever?”

“In the context of the Pharisees trying to trap him into admitting a violation of Jewish law, or of contradicting the Scriptures. His response was to tell them that Moses had granted the equivalent of «ekonomia» — loosely ‘dispensation’ — for divorce because they were sinful, but God’s plan was always marriage for life, the behavior of Abraham, Isaac, David, and Solomon to the contrary notwithstanding! Anyway, the context of that passage is not sex, but divorce.”

“You don’t believe in divorce?”

“As with all things, there is the ideal, then there is the practical application of the ideal. No priest or bishop I know would insist that a woman stay in an abusive marriage. Yes, they’d encourage counseling, but they’d certainly sanction immediate separation. If the counseling were fruitless, which it often is in cases of battered spouses, then a divorce would be granted and there would be no bar on remarriage.

“In my mom’s case, as the wronged party, she was granted an immediate ecclesiastical divorce, even though she initiated the divorce proceedings against my dad for adultery, and was given permission to remarry in her church, which she did. My dad, not that he cares, was not granted permission to remarry, because he was the transgressor.”