by Woods, Karen
He pushed a button on the reader to close the file and handed it back to her. “Yep.”
“Too simple.
“You’re just too bright.”
She laughed. “There’s no such thing as being too bright.”
“If you say so,” he acquiesced with a smile. “It’s almost time for dinner. Masha and I have reservations at one of the restaurants on board. We could add you to the reservation, if you want.”
“No, I checked the reservations, and made reservations for Mama and I at a different restaurant to give you some privacy,” Rita said.
“I’m always glad to have Babushka with us.”
“So am I most of the time.”
“She’ll be happier with you.”
“And I’ll be able to keep an eye on her health.”
“That too. But I wouldn’t be surprised if Babushka outlives us all.”
Rita sighed. “She would be profoundly unhappy were that to be the case. She’s outlived enough people, as it is.”
Returning to their cabin, Rita found her mother sitting at the desk working on her computer.
“Are you about ready for dinner?” Rita asked.
“That would be good,” Irina replied, not looking away from the screen.
“Something interesting?”
“I’ve had an offer on the condo.”
“A good offer?”
Irina looked at her, wearing a rather stunned smile, “I would describe it so. Seventy-five thousand more than my asking price. And it’s an all cash offer.”
“Really? With what conditions?”
“They want to close and take possession two days after I get back to the city. And they want all of my furniture, art, household appliances, cookware, crystal, silver, china, and linens. Basically, they want just to bring in their clothes, and get groceries, to settle in. I would be allowed to take my books, clothing, and personal effects.”
“Sounds like a break-even on the valuation of the art and personal property. You won’t need your furniture and things at the clinic. This will save you disposing of it.”
Irina nodded, “It will make packing much easier.” She hit the send button on the email to the president of the condominium association and copy to her attorney, accepting the offer. “I should be able to move to the clinic by just loading up my car and driving up. And then I’ll fly out to California for the twins’ baptism after Sonya’s forty days. And we can fly home together.”
“I will send someone to help you pack, load the car, and to drive you up.”
“I would appreciate that. I really don’t like driving in the City. I don’t mind highways once I’m out of the city and small towns, but the city traffic takes my breath away, which is why I usually take a taxi or the subway,” Irina confessed. “I won’t miss the noise when I move up to the clinic.”
“Shall we go to dinner? I booked us a reservation in one of the specialty restaurants. Just a little Mama/Daughter time.”
Irina smiled. “Yes. That sounds nice. Thanks for letting me nap.”
“You only nap when you need the sleep.”
“Today was emotionally exhausting.”
“Do you regret going out to the cemetery?”
“Not in the least. But I was glad that you were all there with me. I could not have gotten through that without you there with me.”
“Lyosha has received the aged photos of the boys. Would you like to see them, Mama?”
Irina sighed heavily. “Not right now. Can we wait on this until later? I’m not sure I could bear it just now. I feel fragile.”
Chapter Seventeen
With her mother snoring softly in the next bed, Rita put on her eyeglasses, picked her phone up off the dresser, and looked at the time. 4:09 a.m.
She connected to the ship’s internet and opened up her email. Nothing too exciting there. She wrote an email to Em, putting into words what had been running through her mind for the last few days, “Dear Em, I am seriously contemplating asking Vladika for monastic tonsure. Would you really be willing to found a coenobitic monastery with me, if he approves? I know we talked about it on the drive down to the airport. I’m just verifying your willingness. We already have a chapel on the campus of my clinic and a priest on staff who would serve as a chaplain. We could build a nun’s house if this work grows. Right now, communal housing can be found for us in an empty four-bedroom staff cottage that sits near the chapel. It was built as the priest’s house, but our current chaplain, being a widower, prefers to live in an efficiency apartment on campus. It is quite possible that my mother would join us in this new community, which would mean there would be three of us at the start. We would have to put everything we own into trusts and come into this as poor women. I personally own all the land and the buildings at the clinic, which I would deed to the monastery. Pray about it and get back to me. There would be a fair amount of paperwork involved, both legal and ecclesial. And it all depends on whether I can talk Vladika into blessing this venture. But before I speak to him, I need to have a firm answer from you. Vladika is unlikely to approve a foundation that is one nun short of a monastery. Grin. But with a group of us, he may be more willing to give his backing. As always, I remain, yours in Christ, Rita.”
It was only a couple of minutes until the phone buzzed with an incoming email, a reply from Em. “Dearest Rita, I was delighted to get your email. I was laying here at my daughter’s house, awake, staring at the clock, unable to sleep, when my phone pinged. As for your question, YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This is an answer to prayer. Call me after you dock in California and get to your son’s house. We will sit down over coffee and work out the details. We might name the house for the Holy Unmercenaries, if the bishop approves. Em.”
Then she took a deep breath. And started composing an email to her bishop, a man she knew quite well. “Vladika, Bless. I come to you today seeking your blessing to form a new coenobitic women’s community, with the initial sisterhood consisting of myself and two other Orthodox widows who are also doctors. The location will be my clinic in upper New York State. When you consecrated the chapel on the campus, you recommended, not for the first time, that I consider a monastic life. I started out in life wanting to be a nun with a medical mission. That was denied me at the time. So, on advice of many, including my own confessor, several abbesses, and my then bishop, I married. My husband was ordained a deacon shortly after our marriage, and was priested not long after that. We served the Cathedral congregation while working as physicians. We raised our sons to be good men who love God. They are now grown and married, settled in their lives. My husband, Archpriest Andrei Ivanovich Zornov, M.D., M.Div., Ph.D., reposed a number of years ago. I feel it is time for me to follow that original calling, a longing that has never left me, although I’ve dismissed as impractical whenever the option came to mind, to live as a nun who works in medicine. This will be a life lived away from the world, but active in service.”
She paused and reread what she had written. Then she added, “My sons have surprised me with a trip for my birthday. I am currently on a cruise ship about to go through the Panama Canal, with my mother, and two of my sons and their wives. My son, Priest Boris Zornov, and his wife, Matushka Sofia, have just given me twin grandsons. So, they are not with me. As I am on the ship, I have only very expensive voice service the moment, although there is ample free internet access on the ship. Still, I felt I should write you now and tell you what is on my heart. I shall return home after my newest grandsons are baptized. I should like to sit down with you after I return home, with the other widows interested in forming this community, and to talk to you about this, if you are of a mind to contemplate blessing this work. I remain, as always, yours in Christ, Matushka Margarita Alexandrova Zornova, M.D, Ph.D.”
She reread that message to her bishop. Then she took a deep breath and debated about sending it.
“That sigh sounds serious,” Irina said.
“It is. I just wrote Vladika asking if he would bless me to
become a nun. I haven’t sent it yet.”
“I’m surprised it’s taken you this long to make the request, again,” Irina said. “I thought you would have done so shortly after Kiryusha married Masha last year. It has always been your desire to be a nun. Even when you were married, you lived an ascetically rigorous life with Dryusha and the boys.”
“I have lived as I was raised,” Rita dismissed.
“True enough, I suppose. We did raise you to live our faith. But we never lived as rigorously as you and Dryusha did during your life together. Do you care for a companion in this ascetical life, Daughter?”
“I was planning on you being with me. Em, Jack’s widow, will also be joining us, if Vladika approves of this.”
She reread the outgoing message, then closed her eyes and prayed silently that God’s will would be done. Rita hit send and the request to her bishop was on its way.
She sighed again. “It is in his hands now.” She disconnected from the ship’s internet and put her phone back on the bedside table and hooked it into the charging cable.
“Then it is time not to worry about it. He will say yes, or he will say no,” Irina said.
Rita chuckled. “Always practical, Mama.”
“Do you have a name for this venture?”
“Em suggests ‘Holy Unmercenaries’. But the clinic does charge patients for care. So, I don’t think that is good. I lean towards placing it under the patronage of Saint Maria Skobtsova, as the chapel on the campus under her patronage, already.”
Irina laughed. “Yes, Mother Mary of Paris. That is a good patroness for the work. Still, Vladika will name it.”
“He will, if he approves of us taking this action.”
Irina sighed. “We would have to form a not for profit corporation and get a federal tax exemption ruling. And we would have to put all of our money into trusts or give it away or pool it into a communal account.”
“Yes. We will need some funds to start. Most of my money will go into the family trust for my sons and grandchildren. I will keep enough out to provide for initial operating expenses and for a new building to house nuns, if the community grows, maybe enough for an endowment. The grounds will be deeded to the community and will become tax exempt as a monastery. There is a lot of legal work here. But we will have income from our work at the clinic as support for our living expenses.”
“And my social security,” Irina offered. Then she said, “Emelia is Antiochian Orthodox. She prefers to pray in Arabic. We pray in Slavonic. There are differences in fasting praxis and there are calendar issues.”
“So, we compromise and have all services in English, with assorted prayers in Slavonic and in Arabic. And if more women join us, we add their preferred languages to the mix. The issues of fasting, etc, will have to be left in the hands of Vladika who would guide us in the writing of the Typikon for the monastery.”
“You have thought this out.”
“No, Mama, I haven’t. But it makes sense to me.”
“As long as we are up, anyway, shall we pray and then get ready for the day? I am rather eager to see the transit through the canal.”
Rita laughed. “Me too. The canal transit is supposed to be lovely… Do you want your prayer book?”
“We can do this from memory.”
“In English?”
“Sure,” Irina replied, “why not?”
They both stood and faced the icons that were on the desk. “Through the prayers of our holy Fathers, O Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on us,” Rita chanted, beginning their prayers.
Sitting at breakfast in the main dining room with her mother, sons, and their wives, Rita couldn’t help smiling.
“Why such a smile?” Masha asked, “You are smiling like a woman in love.”
Rita chuckled. “Love is an amazing thing. But no, I’m not in love with any person, in particular. I’m just happy to be with my family. I want to thank all of you for this time together. It has been an amazing time, so far.”
Masha smiled. “You are welcome, Rita. We have had a lovely time with you as well.”
“After we’re done here, Mama and I are going to go up and sit on the deck to watch the ship go through the canal. Anyone else want to join us?”
While cruising through Lake Gatun, after having gone through the locks on the Atlantic side of the canal, Rita checked her email. There was nothing from her bishop. There was however an email from Yulia at the clinic flagged urgent and titled as “Need you to come home ASAP”. She opened it. “Sorry to have to tell you this awful thing. There is nothing for it but to be straightforward. Janet died in her sleep between midnight when she returned to her cottage from taking call and six a.m. when the alarm clock went off. Because she died suddenly and unattended at home, the coroner’s office will have to do a postmortem for cause of death determination. All we really know is that Patrick couldn’t wake her up this morning. Police and an ambulance were here. The ambulance just took her body away. I’m sorry to ruin your vacation, but you are needed at home. Please come home ASAP. In Christ, Yulia.”
“Lord have mercy!” Rita said as tears streamed down her face.
“What’s wrong, Mama?” Kiril demanded.
“Janet’s dead, Kiryusha,” Rita said in a pain-filled voice.
“What? How?” Alexei demanded.
Rita pushed the phone at him. “Read it yourself. This is all I know.”
The phone got passed around until everyone of their party had read the email.
“Okay,” Irina said. “There is nothing else to be done. You will disembark the ship and fly home at the first port we come to. Your clinic is your responsibility.”
“Puntareas is the next stop, as memory serves,” Anya replied. “Juan Santamaria International Airport in San Jose is the closest airport that I know of. I know there are flights to Miami from there. It’s about 90 kilometers from where the cruise ships dock. I know some people in the Embassy in San Jose. I’ll call and see if they can help with your travel arrangements. Do you have a credit card on you?”
Rita opened her wallet and gave her daughter-in-law a major credit card.
Anya turned her phone on and looked up the number of a friend in San Jose. Even though she knew this call was going to cost an exorbitant roaming fee, she dialed. “Good morning Sandy, Anna Zornova…. I’m in your neighborhood, or will be tomorrow... No, not business. I’m on a cruise ship with my husband and his family…. Yeah. We’re making the transit now through the Canal… Listen, my mother in law has had a business emergency arise… Her partner in her medical practice died this morning, suddenly and without warning. She needs to get back to New York with all due speed. I don’t want to send her off in a taxi between Puntareas and SJO. A woman traveling alone, in a country she doesn’t know, when she is emotionally compromised by grief doesn’t sound safe to me… I’d appreciate that more than I can say. We are on the,” she gave her friend the cruise line and name of the ship. “Here’s her credit card information for the tickets for the flights... Are you ready?” She gave Sandy the card number, expiration date, and security code. “Yes, thank you. I enrolled all of us in STEP, so you should have her passport number and home address on file… Yes, it is Margarita Zornova… I will see you tomorrow. Thanks for the help...” The call lasted another minute or two of pleasantries before Anya disconnected.
Anya handed Rita back the credit card. “Okay, my friend Cassandra Underhill will meet us at the dock tomorrow morning. She will have your tickets and boarding passes for a flight tomorrow from SJO to Miami, and the soonest connecting flight into New York City from Miami. I figure from whichever NYC airport she can book a flight to, you can rent a car or have someone pick you up.”
"Sandy Underhill? She was one of your bridesmaids; tall girl, long auburn hair, green eyes?” Rita asked.
“Yes. That’s her. She is posted down here.”
“I’ll give you my keys and you can drive my car from the City to the clinic,” Irina offered.
“No,
Mama, I’ll charter a flight to Watertown, and Clint can fetch me from the airport. We have standing arrangements with a charter company. They fly one or two flights a day for us from New York City to Watertown, or vice versa, bringing patients or taking them, away. Chances are that I can probably make one of the existing flights. If not, well, they are always happy to have more business,” Rita dismissed. “Besides, I’m not in any emotional shape to drive in the City. Too distracted by grief. Anya is right about that.”
“Sandy will drive you to the airport and make sure that you catch your flight. It’s about three hours by air from SJO to Miami on a direct flight, but there are several time zones involved,” Anya replied. “I have no idea how long your layover will be in Miami. You probably won’t be home until very late.”
“Whatever it is, I’ll deal with it,” Rita said. “But for now, let’s try to enjoy this day. How often does a woman get to go through the Panama Canal with most of the people she loves?”
“Can you enjoy the day?”
“There is nothing I can do for them at home. I am here now, in this moment. I can and will enjoy your company. Life has to be enjoyed in the moments. That’s all we really have, just the moment we’re in, and the memories.”
Chapter Eighteen
Sitting at the airport gate in Miami, waiting for her flight to LaGuardia to board, she checked her email. A reply from her bishop had come. She was afraid to open it. But after a prayer that she would accept whatever he said, she opened it.
“My dear Matushka Margarita, it is with overwhelming joy that I give you my blessing to undertake the work of establishing a women’s monastery. You are correct. I have, more than once, strongly suggested a monastic life to you, the most recent instance being at the blessing of the beautiful chapel of Saint Maria Skobtsova on the campus that will be your monastery. When you return home, phone my office and we will arrange a time to sit down with you and the other widows and make plans for bringing this about. Start the legal paperwork and financial arrangements necessary to begin the work. I will have the diocese’s lawyers contact you. They will be more than happy to help with the paperwork. I will gladly tonsure you and your companions monastics of Rassaphore rank after we work out the Typikon for the monastery. I will pray for your advancement in the ascetic life. I am of a mind to name the community for the patroness of the chapel there. As you will have an active ministry this seems quite appropriate. Further, I shall not repeat the mistake of Saint Maria’s bishop, as many of her early troubles with her sisters resulted from no one being responsible. I shall, upon your taking of the habit, install you, Matushka, as the first Abbess of that holy place.”