We shared soft laughter and softer touches. We shared everything but our telephone numbers. For a moment I considered asking her for her phone number... but I decided I didn’t need it. Megan would be quick to foist those digits on me the next time I saw her. Too soon, she told me that she had to go. We shared a parting shower to clean away the evidence of our past four hours on the mattress. We actually got clean, although there was another round of getting dirty before we rinsed away the soap.. I saw Matushka Anastasia and Deacon Grigory’s son, John, sitting on a small couch. She had obviously been crying, and John was comforting her.“Good afternoon, Matushka Anastasia,” I said. “Hi, John. Is there any word?”“No,” John replied. “They’re working on him.”“May I ask what happened?”“A heart attack, I think. The paramedics had to use their defibrillator on him.”“Is there anything you need?” I asked.“Just prayers for now, Subdeacon.”I nodded, then Clarissa and I sat down in chairs close to. More

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