Page 2 of Chalk It Up

“Thank you.” The words are kind, but the tone is curt.

I can tell I’ve already landed my first blow when I see her reel back just slightly. The tiny shift in her expression twists something in my chest. I feel relieved and disgusted with myself all at once.

I don’t want to be this man.

But this isn’t only about me. It’s about Adeline too. The tenderness in Evangeline’s voice whenever she mentions my daughter, the admiration she already has for a little girl she barely knows—it feels naturally magnetic with a force I can’t explain.

Maybe nothing would ever come of whatever this is. Maybe if I let myself become interested in Ms. Jake, she’d never return the feeling.

That isn’t a risk I’m willing to take.

“I’m not sure if the administration has told you yet, but Adeline has some learning difficulties that are going to require extra support.” My arms are folded across my chest. If Evangeline’s posture is open despite her nervousness, mine is a fortress.

“They did at the beginning of the summer when they were discussing class placement.” She readjusted herself, leaning back on her desk and every instinct I have snaps to attention. Just that small change in posture sends a slow, heavy pressure settling low in my gut.

“I’ve worked with students in the past who have had dyslexia,” she continues. “But I like to stay up with current studies and practices. I spent a good part of the summer researching updated analysis of dyslexia so I can help her.”

Son of a…

That’s the last thing I want to hear.

“Great, well, I’m glad an educator would be able to meet the needs of every kind of learner.”

Here it goes.

The violent spiral.

The dam breaks, and there’s no holding back the deluge now.

One of her eyebrows lifts just enough that most people would miss it. I don’t. I’ve been watching her too closely for that. But just as quickly, she smooths the reaction away, and I silently curse the man I am—and the man I keep choosing to be.

“I am certainly equipped to help each of my students, and if there’s ever an area where I’m not, I make it a point to do the research until I am.” Her tone has changed. It’s still polite, still professional, but there’s a firmness to it now. A boundary.

Around us, parents mingle while students drift through the room, studying birthday charts and searching for their desks. Adeline would be here too, but she's with her nanny since I came straight from work.

Hearing this woman talk about how she goes above and beyond for her students drives a stake into my heart. It doesn’t just speak to her work ethic, but her compassion as well.

Both are admirable.

Both are dangerous.

I have to shut this down and leave.

“I’m very particular about being kept in the loop with Adeline’s progress. Past teachers have dropped the ball, leaving me to pick up the slack. That is not something I want repeated this year. I’m hoping I’m not asking too much when I expect communication and dedication.”

I tell myself I’m being abrasive for Addie’s sake.

But that’s a lie.

Ms. Jake pushes herself away from the desk and folds her arms across her chest. I keep my eyes where they belong, though my peripheral vision has other ideas.

She’s defensive now.

Exactly where I wanted her.

Or maybe it’s not, because her defensive side also feels fun. And I absolutely shouldn’t want to have fun with my daughter’s teacher.

“Well, Mr. Von,” she says evenly. “I pride myself on keeping communication open with my students’ families. If you have any additional concerns, please feel free to email me. My contact information is on the welcome sheet by the front of the classroom.” She gestures toward the table near the door, and I can tell it’s a dismissal. “I have some more parents to meet. I hope you have a wonderful evening.”