Page 66 of Teacher of the Year

“And this is my buddy, Marvin.” He motions to me.

“Marvin is also called Mr. Block. He’s my teacher,” Illona adds, feeling less timid by the second.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you both.” Ralph smiles. This man oozes charm and sweetness, and my head races to connect the dots and figure out how they might know each other. Olan doesn’t seem to know many people in Portland, let alone out here on the island.

“How long are you here? I see you rented a golf cart. You know I have an extra van. The key is right under the driver’s seat mat. I’ll text you my address. You can always borrow it. Don’t even have to ask. Just come get it.”

“That’s generous of you, Ralph, but I thought Illona might like the golf-cart experience.”

“True, very true. There’s nothing like poking around the island in one of those buggers.” He nods to our parked cart. “Well, you have my number. If you need anything or if you come back, you know how to get in touch with me.”

“Thank you.” Olan nods.

Illona waves at Ralph, and I say, “Nice to meet you.”

We pile into the golf cart, and as we drive off, Ralph stands and waves kindly. Olan has put his arm around Illona and grasps my shoulder. He’s clearly not the slightest bit concerned with this man knowing who I might be. We ride back to the cottage and Illona finally asks, “Daddy, who was that man?”

“Oh, he’s a friend of mine.”

“Okay,” she replies.

“I didn’t realize you have friends on the island,” I say, fishing for more.

“What can I say? I’m a friendly guy. I have friends in lots of places,” he says with a wink.

I wake Sunday morning with my head on Olan’s chest because, apparently, even in my sleep, my body has taken to navigating to it like a homing pigeon. Olan’s body radiates warmth and smells like the mint soap in the shower. He appears to be sleeping and I do my best to remain still, staring, watching his chest rise and fall with each breath. My heart thumps at the thought of him. Of us. I imagine a world where I’m allowed to wake up next to him every day.

Olan’s left eye creeps open and he returns a sly grin. His long fingers move to gently rub my head and tangle my curls.

“What are you staring at?” he grumbles.

“You. Just you.”

“I’m slightly obsessed with your hair,” he says.

“Yeah, I kinda got that.” I turn my head to look at him. “Olan Stone, do you have Jewfro envy?”

“I’ll have you know, my afro earned me the nickname Black Einstein in college.”

“Um, you realize that is completely hot.”

“I mean maybe to you, but not most people. And definitely not me. Please don’t call me that.”

“One hundred percent hot. And I won’t. I promise,” I say, tousling his hair.

The sun rises on our last day and heading back to the mainland awaits. Back to life, back to reality. No, not the music. Not now. I don’t need it.

Lying here, our bodies tangled tight and the nearness palpable, I want to know more about him. When we’re together, I feel so close to him, but there are moments I feel he’s holding back. There’s a wall up, and I can’t figure out why. And if this, whatever we have, can continue, we must start removing bricks from the wall.

“You know, you’re an amazing guy,” I say.

“Really? How so?”

“Hmmm, let me see. You’re the most attentive dad. Watching you parent Illona makes my heart swell. Truly. You’re thoughtful and kind. Whenever anyone needs something, you’re right there before they can ask for help. And you’re sexy as hell,” I say, tracing his jaw with my thumb.

“Are you trying to make me blush?”

“No, but if it happens, I’ll consider it a bonus. Can, can I ask you something?”

---