Room-maid(30)

If nothing else, at least I was going to get some amazing eye candy out of the deal.

Tyler got our drinks and I saw him looking for me, raising my heartbeat slightly. I waved so that he could see me and he made his way over.

“Thank you,” I said when he gave me my drink.

“My pleasure.”

His words sent little chills up and down my back. I took a sip of my drink, hoping it would cool off my heated skin. It was more than a little ridiculous to be getting so worked up over such an innocent statement.

“So, why a teacher?”

It took me a second to recognize that he had asked me a question. “What do you mean?” Didn’t most people become teachers because they loved teaching? I wasn’t sure exactly what he was trying to get at.

“Based on what you told me earlier, I’m assuming that you’re an heiress.” Well, that wasn’t quite right, but I understood why he’d come to that conclusion. “You don’t really hear about heiresses leaving it all behind to become an elementary school teacher.”

“No, you usually don’t,” I agreed.

“Why did you make that choice?”

This was something I had thought a lot about, because my parents had wondered the same thing. “Growing up, my parents had very specific things they wanted me to focus on. I loved stories and reading and drawing, but they thought those were wastes of time. That I should focus on more serious academics. It was my teachers who encouraged me, made me feel supported. I usually felt unseen and unknown at home. My teachers made me feel seen and heard. I wanted to do the same for other kids.”

He nodded. “I know what that feels like. It’s cool that you wanted to do that for other kids.”

“Nobody should have to feel that way. My family always made me feel like the odd one out. They thought television and movies were vulgar, and they only wanted me to associate with girls who were of our ‘standing.’ Which left me with a lot of time alone to read and daydream. From eight to ten years old, I was convinced that my parents were changeling trolls who had taken me away from my real parents.” I’d never told anyone that before. How alienated and alone I’d always felt, unwanted for not being a boy and for not living up to my parents’ expectations of me. Not wanting to dwell on it too much, I shifted gears. “But I just really love teaching. Seeing a kid’s expression light up when they grasp a concept is amazing. Although sometimes I feel like they teach me more than I teach them.”

“How so?”

“I love when they blow your minds with something you’ve never really considered. Like a couple of days ago we were talking about word pronunciation and letter sounds and this girl in my class, Brinley, came to ask me why all the Cs in Pacific Ocean are pronounced differently. She’s so smart.”

“I can see the appeal.” His gaze was intense and inquisitive, and it made me catch my breath.

Then I wondered if maybe I was painting too rosy a picture, so I said, “It’s usually great. That doesn’t mean it’s not without some hardships. And sometimes I’m not sure what to do. There’s a boy named Denny that I can’t get to stop acting out. I’ve sent his parents a couple of emails and called, but there hasn’t been any response. He’s never had an issue before, and now it’s like he just lives to find ways to get in trouble. I’ve been trying to discipline him, but it seems to make things worse. But even when it’s hard, my classroom is where I feel the most like me. Like I’m finally the person I was meant to be.”

“That’s a real gift,” he said. “Not everyone gets that.”

For some reason, his words hit me hard, sinking deep inside. It was a gift and I loved that he recognized it as such. But he said it like it wasn’t something he had in his own life. “Do you feel that way in your job?”

He glanced down at his drink, looking sad. “I would like to. But my job is just a job. A means to an end.”

Now I felt awful, like I’d been bragging about my life. “As to your earlier comment, I’m not an heiress anymore. My parents cut me off.”

That got his attention back on me. “What? Why on earth would they do that?”

He looked appropriately shocked, which always made me feel better. When you grew up in Wonderland, and you kept trying to tell people that the painted red roses were actually white and no one believed you and/or cared, it was such a relief to have someone respond, “Yeah, of course they’re white roses!” It made me not feel so alone.

“They had other plans for me and none of them included me becoming a teacher. They kicked me out when I told them that was what I’d chosen. Do you think I’d need to be your live-in maid if I still had money?”

I had meant it as a joke, but he just shook his head. “You’re not my maid. We’re roommates.”

Right. As if I needed a reminder. I could practically hear Frederica’s voice whispering roommaid.

He added, “I think what you did was really brave. You’re an admirable person, do you know that?”

Flustered by his words and his gaze, I tried to shrug them off while forcing myself to try and breathe normally. “We’re not here to talk about me. We’re here for you and to help you navigate these shark-infested waters. And I’m your personal Jacques Cousteau.”