Page 95 of Teacher of the Year

“Oh. Well, nobody’s perfect. How are things going?”

“That’s why I’m calling. Things were going well. Very well. He’s a good man, and he cares about me, and well, I think I might have messed everything up.”

“You messed things up? What did you do?”

My forehead begins to sweat, and I reach up to brush my hair out of my face. “I didn’t do anything. Not really. I asked for some time.”

“Time? Time for what? What do you need time for? You’re not getting any younger.”

“Mom, I’m only twenty-nine.”

“I know how old you are. I was there when you were born, remember?”

“Anyway, Olan’s in recovery.”

The line goes silent.

“He’s been sober almost twelve years.”

“Okay, that’s good. And he has a sponsor and goes to meetings?”

“Yeah, both. But he had a relapse last year.”

She pauses a moment. “What happened?”

“I don’t know all the details. It had to do with his work, I think. He was also in the middle of a divorce. The pressure was too much, I guess.”

“It’s hard when you don’t have other ways to cope.”

“The thing is, every time his drinking comes up, it triggers me.”

I don’t need to say more. She knows what I’m talking about. While she’s not speaking, her breathing gently rumbles into the phone. I close my eyes and begin to pick at the loose skin on my thumb.

“Marvin, I know it was hard for you. What you have to understand is I wasn’t in control. I was doing my best. I know it wasn’t good enough. Not for you and certainly not for myself. I needed help, and it took me too long to realize it, but eventually, I got it. You know that. It sounds like your friend has realized he needed help way sooner than I did. That’s a good thing. And relapses happen. It’s part of recovery. One relapse in almost twelve years is actually not so bad. It’s how you move forward from it. How you learn and grow. You might be part of what helps him stay sober.”

And now the tears begin to well up because, contrary to what I expected, Sarah did not become defensive. No raised voice. She’s actually listening and trying to help. The thought of Olan needing me pushes salty drops from my eyes, and now I’m sitting on a giant rock, looking out over the Atlantic Ocean, talking to my mother, and crying.

“Why am I so afraid of…” I’m unsure how to finish because I’m not sure I can name it.

“Of being happy? Of letting someone love you?”

I swallow hard. “Yeah, why?”

“Marvin, you are my precious boy. I love you so much, and I hate if I’ve hurt you in any way. After your dad left, I… I was lost. I know he abandoned you, but honey, he abandoned me too. Being a single parent wasn’t the path I saw for myself, and well, you know what happened. I had no clue what I was doing, and the booze numbed the pain. At the time, I was alone. I didn’t realize I had a problem until it was too late. I’m not making excuses.”

“I know, Mom.”

“You are so loved, Marvy, and you, my boychik, are worthy of love.”

Her voice breaks a little, and I know this is hard for her. I let out a sob, and I’m fairly certain snot has left my nose. I reach for the tissue in my pocket.

“If I could go back,” she continues, “I would do things differently. But that’s not how things work. We have to live with our mistakes and try to learn from them and move forward. It sounds like Olan wants that too.”

“He does. He has, from what I can tell. He’s, he’s an amazing guy, Mom. A complete mensch.”

“It sounds like you actually like him.”

“I do. I like him so much.”

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