Page 65 of Bringing Home the Bacon
“About five minutes. Brainstorm might not be accurate, though. It was more of a lust storm really.”
“A lust storm, huh?” She lifts on her tiptoes and wraps her arms around my neck.
“Yeah.” I rest my forehead against hers. “There’s nothing sexier than seeing a woman totally in her element, doing what she was born to do.”
“You think I was born to be a teacher?” she asks softly.
I think twice about what I just said and pull back slightly. “Weren’t you? I mean, you’re obviously incredible at it.”
“Thanks,” she says and moves to grab her purse from a cubby. “Yeah, thank you, that’s, um. That’s a huge compliment. Should we go? I’m curious to find out if you can still lift me for this threshold business.”
“Hey. What’s going on?” I meet her at the cubbies and intertwine our fingers. With my other hand, I tilt her chin up in my direction.
Her eyes are misty. “I love these kids. So much.”
“I know you do. Anyone who sees you teach for two seconds knows you do.”
She lowers her voice. “But I don’t love the job.” She hesitates. “I feel terrible saying that out loud, but it’s true.”
“Why do you feel terrible about that?”
“Because! I get to work with adorable children every day! I get to be part of setting them on a great educational path. I get to experience the magic of learning to read! Seriously, Bacon, you don’t know real magic until you see everything click in a child’s mind when they start to read.”
Colleen’s smile is wide, but there’s still a well of sadness in her eyes.
I don’t say anything. I just hold the space for her to continue.
She looks around her classroom. “I should be happy here. But I’m just… not. The pay is barely enough to get by month to month. The parents’ demands are endless. The support we get from the district and the school board is virtually nonexistent.” She pauses. “And now that these two are on the way…” When she rubs her belly, her eyes instantly brighten. “I can’t imagine not being at home with them.”
“Then stay home with them,” I say before thinking. “I’ll cover us financially.”
“Us?” She sounds wary.
“Yeah, us,” I say. “You, me, and our bacon bits.”
“I don’t want you to cover us financially,” she says, an edge to her tone.
“Why not?”
“It’s just not how I want to operate, Bacon. I think it’s awesome for people if that’s how their relationship works, but—” She shakes her head. “My grandad worshipped the ground Gran walks on, but I’m realizing how much he kept her in the dark about things. I guess they had a sort of unspoken agreement. She raised the kids. He took care of the business. When he passed, I had to watch her struggle to get a handle on her situation without him. And now, months later, I see Gran coming into her own. She’s… blossoming. She’s trying and experiencing things she’d never do if my grandfather were still here. My parents’ relationship wasn’t all that different when they were alive. The ‘traditional’ marriage arrangement works for some people, but it would never work for me.”
“What are you saying? That you don’t want to get married? That your grandmother would have been better off without your grandad?”
“No. None of that. I’m saying that I need to work. No matter what. And look, believe me, I know moms work. And as a mom of newborn twins, I will really be put to work, but it’s vitally important to me that I do my work too.”
“I get it. But…” I pause and try to figure out how to ask this next question delicately. “What is your work? You know, if teaching isn’t ultimately what you want to do?”
There’s a long moment of charged silence before she says, “Can I show you something?”
“Of course.”
She moves to her desk and picks up a stack of papers bound together with a paper clip. Her eyes shine when she says, “Remember when I told you I was in publishing?”
“Yes?”
“That wasn’t a lie.” She interrupts herself when I cock my head in confusion. “Well, I guess it was a lie at the time, but I didn’t want it to be. I wanted it to be true.”
“Sorry, Colleen, I’m not following.”
