Who We Are

As Parents & Health Care Professionals

I expected my father to have the perfect window to yell at me, since my sisters were still at school and weren't around to be upset about my dad's "raised voice". Instead, when he got home, he calmly walked through the front door and ignored me as I sat on the couch, just waiting for him and his wrath. He wasn't completely ignoring me, but he didn't say a word as he put his things down and walked into the kitchen.

Slowly, I followed after him. He was peering out of the window at an angle, almost like he was trying to see more than just the Radke's front yard and porch.

"Dad?" I called softly as I stepped from the carpet of the living room to the floor of the kitchen, "Are you still angry?"

He dipped his head away from the window before he turned around to simply look at me. "You were next door all night and I didn't even know it," he said, surprising me with a new topic.

I frowned and nodded slowly, unsure of what else I was supposed to do. "I was having a bad night," I claimed, hugging my stomach with one arm and leaning onto the back of a chair with my other hand, "I just really needed a night to figure things out."

He cleared his throat. "Have you 'figured things out' then?" he questioned, keeping his body posture calm like I'd seen him do a hundred times. His voice was strained, but he taught himself to project a false aura of the opposite emotion that he was feeling.

Only I knew better. "I'm not sure, Dad," I said, trying to be honest about what I was going through, "I don't know what's going to happen with Emily and me or Nate, even. The only thing I do know is that I want to be around Ronnie, I want to be with him."

I stopped to gauge his reaction. He sighed and brought his hands up to cover his face and show his frustration. We were going in a conversational circle and we were both frustrated by the fact that the other wasn't going to easily compromise. I wouldn't give up Ronnie and my father wouldn't stop demanding that I do.

"You could at least get to know him," I stated when he said nothing. When he began to protest, I interjected, "The real him, not the file with his name on it."

"File's tell you everything you need to know about someone," he rebutted, refusing to believe there could be more than one side to a person. "Why would you accept that he's a good person without acknowledging that he is also a bad person?"

Slowly, I felt the chill in the air surround me, it crept from the floor, through my toes, and rose goosebumps on my arms. I blinked a couple times as I ingested what my father was saying, and then asked, "Why would you claim that he's a bad person without acknowledging that he's a good person, too?"

And then we were quiet as my father silently stated touché in his mind, unable to speak it out loud and admit that I also was right. I gripped the back of our kitchen table chair with both of my hands and lifted one of the corners of my mouth in a tight-lipped motion as I shrugged, knowing there was no where else to go with this exact conversation.

"Do you want to meet him?" I asked, going up on the tips of my toes as hope crept up my spine, "As my boyfriend, I mean."

My father froze, but his eyes darted to mine. "No," he said, his lips pressing together, "I don't want to search for another side of him. We'll both only be disappointed in the end."

"Dad, you don't listen," I stressed, "Ronnie is different that what he shows people," I argued, "He's himself with me."

"I've seen him," my father refuted, "I'm not letting you convince me that there is something else there when I know there isn't. If you want to seek out something that doesn't exist, then go right ahead. But you will get hurt and I'll be here waiting."

It was his sarcastic way of saying that I should go for it if I really wanted to. He didn't want me to, but he couldn't see a way of effectively stopping me without allowing me to, although I knew he would try if he could. It would be an on-going war, but I hoped that I could win it. He was resigned to let me get hurt. It was the easiest way to break down these ideas in my head.

He turned and he walked away, leaving me standing on my own, feeling a bit apprehensive about everything and worried because he was so sure of mine and Ronnie's outcome.

"You're going to get that eye looked at," my dad called awhile later as he came downstairs from changing his clothing, "So get your shoes."

I looked at him and frowned before glancing back to the television. "Can't we wait until this is over?" I asked, wanting nothing to do with doctors or nurses, or even leaving the house, "I won't be able to see it until they play it again."

"No, your sisters will be home before we get back if we wait any longer. I don't want them sitting here alone," he claimed, seeming to forget that Gwen was old enough to look after the younger girls.

I wanted to argue but I didn't. I got off the couch and put my shoes on, deciding not to argue with my father's limited hospitality. During the drive to the doctor's office, my mind struggled to find a solution for the rivalry between Ronnie and Nate. It was impossible to imagine the two of them ever getting along, so my plan would stay to keep away from Nate. In doing so, Emily would also be at an arms length.

"Lets go, Kat, stop day dreaming," my father demanded, although he'd barely parked and turned off the car before he was yapping orders at me. Without responding, I got out of the car and followed him through the sliding doors of the four story doctor's office.

My dad wrapped his arm around my shoulders like I was a worn down kid who needed guidance, and he steered me towards the front desk, his fingers pressing gently into my arm as the woman looked up and shock colored her face at the sight of mine.

"We're here to see Dr. Taulmen," he said formally, knowing there would be an opening at this time, "The patient's name is Katerina Silverstein."

She nodded and typed a few things on her keyboard before looking up and asking, "Katerina Olivia?" like she'd met a lot of people with my name before or there was actually more than one in the computer system.

"Yes," my dad replied, pulling his insure card out of his wallet so she could make sure it was up to date.

After a few more clicks on her computer, she handed my father a clipboard and told him that a nurse would call my name shortly. We walked over to the circle of chairs and sat down across from a mother and two children. The older one, the girl, looked like she was minutes from the death, while the younger boy who was barely two feet tall stood on his chair while holding onto the back of it. Every time he wobbled, the mother would flinch to catch him, but he'd steady himself again and she'd go right back to asking her daughter how she was feeling now.

I leaned towards my father to see what he was jotting down on the clipboard and then turned my attention back to the little family as a nurse called out, "Ava," and they got to their feet, the mother grabbing the wobbly boy with one arm and their bag with the other.

My dad had just taken the clipboard to the counter when a rosy cheeked nurse appeared in the doorway behind us. She pulled out the clipboard she'd tucked under her arm and read my name. "Katerina," she stated as she looked up and smiled at me, since I was the only girl in the room and I'd just gotten to my feet. "I'm Daniela," she introduced as she tucked the board away again, "We're going to room six, just down and around." She directed me with her hands. I went and my father followed.

"You can call me Kat," I interjected as she spoke again, "Nobody really calls me by my full name."

She smiled, nodded, and corrected herself. "So, Kat, why are you here today?" she questioned when we walked into the room and I sat down in the chair closest to the desk. My father sat next to me and Daniela sat in the stool and looked at me with expectant eyes.

"It's a little obvious, isn't it?" I asked, frowning when my father nudged me in the side. He made it clear that he didn't appreciate jokes right now. I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth and let it go before answering seriously. "I got into a fight yesterday and my dad wants to make sure I'm not dying." I ignored the second nudge.

"Okay," she said, drawing out the vowel, "I've just got to ask you a few questions, get your weight and height, and then I'll take a look at that eye."

I nodded and waited as she signed into something on the computer. When she'd gotten to the page she wanted, she turned on her stool and rested her hands in her lap. "Are you comfortable with your father in the room?" she asked, and I wondered if she realized my father wouldn't leave even if I wanted him to.

I nodded without sparing a glance at my dad.

"Okay, then lets get started. Do you smoke?"

She went down the list and asked similar questions regarding drugs and drinking. It wasn't until she got to the questions that pertained only to women that I began feeling awkward with my dad sitting so close to me.

"Are you sexually active?" she asked, looking up the me the same way she did with every question. At previous doctor's appointments, quick no's had been the simple and the honest answer, and while it still was, my mind ran wild with thoughts of when the answer would be yes. Perhaps I would have the nurse ask my father to leave the room then.

"No," I said after a brief delay, not daring to take a look at my dad. He'd stilled beside me, obviously realizing that the answer could and would change sometime. And of course the thought of Ronnie being the one to change it angered him and he tensed visibly next to me.

She finished the last of her questions then asked me to take my shoes off so she could get my height and weight. After that I stepped up onto the table-bed and sat down, the paper cover crinkling underneath me.

"117 pounds and 5 foot 7 inches," she concluded, moving me off the scale, "Lets get a look at that shiner," she said, "We're going to take a look at your eye itself, then I'll check out the bruise."

She rolled her stool over to the edge of the table and told me to look straight ahead at the wall while she shined her light into my eye, moving it from side to side to see different angles. "Wow," she said as I blinked, "You've got really beautiful eyes, Kat. They're clear almost."

"Thanks," I murmured, blinking against the mini flashlight, "I'm sure the bruise only makes the color more vivid."

She chuckled and shook her head at my words. "Go ahead and lay down," she directed, resting her hand on my back as if she was helping lower me to the crinkled paper.

I closed my eye while she poked at it and apologized every time I winced. "What was the fight about?" she questioned, basically trying to make conversation as she inspected the bruise that spread down to my cheek, "It looks like someone was really mad at you about something."

I frowned. "Yeah, she was," I replied, "but I don't really want to talk about it."

"Yeah, sorry," she replied in a friendly voice, "Sometimes I get too noisy for my own good." She moved her fingers away from my eye and told me I could sit up. She took off her rubber gloves and tossed them in the trash. "The good thing is that your eye is fine and the bruise is just from impact with your bones."

I instantly turned my glare on my father, who'd been completely silent the entire time. "Told you," I muttered, even though it wasn't anywhere close to being a mature comeback, "I'm fine and this was a waste of money."

"How was I supposed to know that?" he questioned angrily, "I show up at your school today and you've got a black-eye that I had no idea about."

"Ronnie knew I was fine - I knew I was fine," I muttered as I slid off of the table, "It's not like this was the first black-eye he's nursed. If it would've been worse, I would've come home."

The nurse practitioner turned to her computer and typed in a few things when she sensed that this was a family topic, and not one that pleased either of us. I crossed my arms over my chest when my dad stayed silent and asked Daniela if we were finished.

She saved something and signed out of the computer. "Yup," she clapped her hands together, "Just take a painkiller if it hurts and try to stay out of fights," she recommended and got to her feet. "I don't want to see you back here with another bruise on your body. You're a pretty girl, this," she motioned to my eye, "doesn't add to that."

She stepped across the tile floor and opened the door. "I'll have your papers printed if you want to pick them up at the station across the hall."

I nodded and thanked her. I sat down and pulled my shoes onto my sheet when the door closed. My dad stood up impatiently and stepped away from me towards the door. "Stay here for a minute," he said, causing me to look up surprised, "I have a question for her, I'll be right back." He opened the door and walked out, letting it close loudly behind him.

After a minutes, I crept from my chair and inched the door opened. I looked out slowly with my head at the same height as the door handle, and watched my dad as he talked over the counter with the woman who'd been checking me out. He was facing away from me and she was standing sideways leaning against the counter, so I wasn't in their direct sight. I crouched and listened to my father ask about pregnancy.

My jaw dropped when I realized I was the topic of their conversation.

"What's the chance that a teenage girl could get pregnant the first time?" he asked awkwardly, standing a little straighter. I'd seen him deal with pregnant teenagers before and teen parents, but when it came to his own daughters, he could barely utter the words.

"Unprotected sex is practically asking for a baby," she replied in a calm, informational voice, "Young women are very fertile because the body was created to have children at a young age," she faltered and stood a little straighter. "Mr. Silverstein, if you're worried about your daughter having unprotected sex then you need to speak with her about it and discuss all the options. Honestly, abstinence isn't usually a favorable or doable choice for kids that age."

My dad nodded silently. "I know that," he replied, "I see kids like that everyday. Their parents force abstinence on them instead of protected sex and they do it unprotected instead of not at all, but my daughter, she was never like that, I just - I need to be sure she hasn't changed."

"Then I think you know what you need to do, Mr. Silverstein," she said comfortingly as she rested her hand on his arm, "If you'd feel more comfortable, we could talk with Katerina together. A lot of parents decide that it's easier that way."

I was mortified by the idea of my father and I having the cliche talk. I didn't know if it was worse to do it here where I couldn't run away or to do it at home, with Ronnie's house just feet away from ours and my sister's prying ears just upstairs.

Quickly and quietly I closed the door and trampled back over to my chair. I sat back nonchalantly and covered my face with my hands. When the door opened, I dropped them quickly and looked up, instantly wishing that it was just my father coming through the door.

"What's going on?" I asked, managing to sound like I hadn't heard a word of the embarrassing conversation they were just having, "Dad?"

Daniela spoke up and in that moment it felt wrong to call her by her first name like we were old friends. I wished she would've introduced herself as Mrs. something instead. At least then I could pretend she was just another health teacher at my school who could be easily ignored. "Kat, your father expressed that he was concerned about your knowledge of safe sex."

I grimaced. Obviously doctors or whatever she was had no qualms about jumping right into the topic. She'd probably done this a hundred times for a hundred other patients whose parents dragged them through the door. There was no need to be embarrassed.

"There's no need to be embarrassed, Kat," she stated, stealing the words right from my mind, "Many teenagers decide that they want to take the leap with someone they care about, as parents and health professionals, it's our job to make sure that you know how to partake in these activities in a healthy and safe way."

Sitting on her stool, she rested her hands on her knees and smiled reassuringly like she was waiting for an answer, even though she hadn't asked a question. She glanced to my dad but I didn't dare look at him. I knew that my cheeks were red and my eyes had darkened in embarrassment.

"I had health," I said finally, not looking at either of them as I studied the brass handles on the drawers of the sink, "I know enough and Ronnie knows more."

From my peripheral vision, I watched my dad flinch. I was slightly pleased.

Daniela nodded as though she was making a breakthrough. "Ronnie is your boyfriend?" she asked.

I nodded, testing the waters.

"Is he in your grade?"

"He's a year older," I said, hoping that this conversation would end quickly so we could all go home and pretend this never happened.

She nodded in a way she probably thought was comforting and reached out to pat my shoulder. "Relax, Kat, this isn't the Spanish Inquisition. I just want to know what you like about him so I can understand where you are in your relationship."

"You're a nurse, not a shrink," I muttered, not wanting to tell anyone about Ronnie with my father next to me, and certainly not in a way that would open the doors for a conversation about sleeping with him. I wasn't comfortable talking about that with Ronnie, there was no way I would speak of it with a stranger and my dad. "Dad, can we please just go home?" I begged, meeting his blue eyes for the first time since he'd sat down next to me. "I won't ever have sex if we can just go home."

"I want to make sure you know what you're getting yourself into, Kat," he stated, crossing his arms over his chest, "Ronnie may seem sweet to you, but he's more experienced than you are and isn't going to want to wait until you feel one hundred percent comfortable, so I want you to know that you don't have to rush into anything to keep him."

I restrained myself from glaring at him again. "I won't, now can we please go home?"

Nurse Daniela interjected. "If you're uncomfortable, Kat, we'll take Ronnie out of it and make it less personal. Lets just talk about your options for having a healthy sex life."

I was pretty sure that my dad and I winced simultaneously at her choice of words. I simply nodded and went back to counting the number of dandelions in the photo that hung on the wall across from me.

"Now Kat, there are multiple options for a woman your age," she started as I tried to drown her out with my own thoughts. Every now and then she would pause I would nod, trying to keep her explanations from registering in my head. But honestly, there wasn't much I could do to ignore her. I listened painfully to her explanation of birth control options and the things I would have to do to get them. After a lengthy conversation, she smiled and stood up, claiming, "See, it wasn't that bad!" as she moved towards the door to escape.

"I don't even know what to say to you," I muttered as I practically jumped out of my chair and went towards the door, "I want to go home."

My father wasn't pleased with my attitude. "Katerina, wait," he demanded as I disappeared through the open doorway and headed back down the hall towards the main desk and the exit.

He didn't catch up to me until I'd made it to the car. I assumed he stopped at the desk and grabbed the "educational" papers that Daniela offered to print for both of us in case "another conversation arose". By the time we were both in the car, my dad had lost his nerve. The ride was silent and I was grateful.
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A CHAPTER!
I know. It's been a millennium!

PLEAAASE comment. :) It would mean a lot if you did! And perhaps motivation would stay and I could write another one. Thank you! Love you guys.