Steven had his mother to thank for his reinstatement. She’d had to call in a few favors to make it happen. And since one of the conditions of his academic probation was maintaining a high GPA, his mother had hired a string of overpriced homework tutors that all quit after a week or two, citing Steven’s poor attitude (i.e., filthy mouth) and even worse work ethic. At her wit’s end, his mother finally had the brilliant idea to call Dustin’s mother to see if Dustin, whose impressive academic accomplishments were always touted on fb, would agree to work with Steven as his new homework tutor. His mother knew that while her son had little respect for the authority of adults, he coveted the approval of his peers.

Dustin had been adamantly opposed to tutoring Steven when his mother brought it up to him last October. He pointed out that he and Steven were only “friends” because of the happenstance of their two mothers meeting, and by all accounts, the two boys could not have had more different childhoods. “We have nothing in common!” Dustin moaned. “What will we talk about?”

“What you’re being paid to talk about … homework,” was her calm reply.

Dustin let out a deep sigh and rolled his eyes. Where Steven was a good-looking, rich party boy from Manhattan’s highest social circle, Dustin was none of those things. Dustin was adopted and knew nothing about his biological parents. Well, he did know that his teenage mother had left a note saying he should be given to Tamar L., “the nice social worker lady who was smart and kind, when she was just a kid from a fucked-up home living with her messed-up mom.” She wanted a better life for her own kid, which is why she knew she should give him up.

And so, one Friday night on her way to temple for her first Shabbat service in quite some time, Tamar received a call from a social worker at a hospital and was given one hour to decide if she wanted to become the mother of a two-day-old newborn. Taking it as a test of her lapsed piety, she leaned forward and gave her cab driver the address to St. Luke’s on 112th Street. When she told her husband about her intentions and explained her taxicab epiphany, Dustin’s soon-to-be adoptive father didn’t give it a moment’s hesitation (even though they already had a three-year-old) before saying, “I’m in!” And Tamar was consumed with a feeling of security that she had married the right man. Eighteen years later, Dustin’s mom still told this story, but with the caveat that while she was right about adopting Dustin, she had spoken too soon about her now ex-husband.