Page 75 of Husband of the Year
“To Olan’s parents, yes.”
“Do you think Olan is okay with that or…”
“Do I think Olan wants him?”
“Yeah.”
Isabella rests her head on my shoulder and speaks in a quieter voice. “You should probably ask him.”
“I will. But what do you think?”
Isabella has known Olan longer than anyone else I’m able to talk to about this and she has to have at least some gut feeling about it.
She lifts her head and faces me. “Given the circumstances, I think Olan would love to bring Greggie home and be his legal guardian. But I also know he would never ask that of you.”
“Oh. So what should I do?” Once again, I’m standing on Pelletier’s playground, seeking advice from the ex-wife of the man I’m head over heels for—just like a soap opera but with fewer dramatic cliffhangers.
“What do you want to do?”
My stomach churns like a tempestuous sea, as if a massive vessel were capsizing within me.
“I know that’s not what you asked,” she continues. “But you need to figure out what you want before you talk to Olan, because I think we both know what he wants.”
A boulder sized lump appears in my throat, and I attempt to swallow it.
Isabella pats my arm, leans over, and gives me a soft kiss on the cheek. “But I also know Olan loves you. Very much. And he’d never do anything to jeopardize what you have. Think about it.”
She’s probably left a lipstick mark, but I don’t even consider wiping it away.
What do I want? I would like someone to tell me what to do. How to feel. Make all difficult life decisions for me. And maybe do all the housework while I snooze with Gonzo. That’s what I’d like.
But that’s about as likely as Gonzo giving up napping to run a marathon.
CHAPTER THIRTY
From: [email protected]
Sent: 3/30 at 2:12 A.M.
Subject: Every Little Bit Hurts
Dear Marvin,
As I type this, your nephew peacefully slumbers in a sling on my chest. At dinner, we gave him a little taste of Mom’s mashed potatoes, and Marvin, his face lit up like it was Christmas morning. The sound of his contagious laughter and giggles clarifies he is genuinely happy. Of course, he had more potatoes on his face than in his mouth, but that was part of the experience. Getting to witness him discovering additional aspects of his world, and even himself, is such a gift, and I’m grateful to be here, even temporarily. I can’t wait for you to meet him. As I get to know him better, I can’t help but think that you and he will become great friends.
Liam has been rather cranky the last few days. Detox is always an unpleasant experience, but this time it seems to beaffecting him more intensely. He’s finally making headway in the program. When an addict admits they’re powerless over drugs and alcohol, it’s their first step toward sobriety, and therefore, the most important one. I’m cautiously optimistic and determined to support him through it.
Yesterday I accompanied him to an AA meeting in one of the on-site meeting rooms. Two kind men in recovery came to talk about their experiences. Liam slept through most of it. The other rehab patients weren’t much more attentive. I did my best to be alert and nod, giving the speakers some positive non-verbal feedback. My inclination is to be frustrated or annoyed with Liam, but there are signs his body is breaking the physical dependence on drugs and alcohol, and I’m holding on to that knowledge as a win for him. He’s receiving around-the-clock monitoring and they’ve weaned him off IV therapy for hydration, which is another positive sign. Please keep him in your thoughts.
We have a court appearance next week where my parents will officially gain legal custody of Greggie. Liam insists he wants to give up his full parental rights, but the attorney I’ve hired says most judges won’t allow that as an initial step. If, after a year, he still feels this way, he can make that decision, and my folks could adopt Gregory. One step at a time.
Mom and Dad are slowly warming up to the idea of being primary caregivers again in their sixties. I think Dad is more receptive to it, but honestly, Mom will bear the brunt of the work, so that makes sense. At this stage of their lives, it’s not ideal, but it’s the only viable solution other than foster care, which we’ve agreed as a family isn’t on the table.
I’ve told them we’ll take Greggie in the summers. Not until you’re done with school, of course. Illona and Isabella will help,I promise. I hope that’s okay. We can chat more about it on our next call. I promise you’ll love having him around. Marvin, this boy needs me in his life. I didn’t expect it, but there’s a strong connection between us. My mother has taken to calling us Buzz and Woody—and yes, I’m Woody. I thought you’d be amused by that. My mom says it’s because I’m “tall and lanky” and Greggie is “short and stout,” but of course, there’s another reason Woody fits me. And you know it well. Fuck, now my body misses you as much as my heart.
Which leads me to your lesson. “Every Little Bit Hurts” by Brenda Halloway might be the song that encapsulates how much my soul longs for you. Recorded in 1964 for Motown, Brenda actually released the song a few years earlier on a different label before signing with Motown and was initially against rerecording it. Of course, Mr. Gordy convinced her and, with a new arrangement and performance, she had the biggest hit of her career. If you’re able, please listen to the song and know every word, all the emotion in Brenda’s voice—that is how much my heart aches for you.
