Chapter 7 — Katherine #2
She finally stands. "I'll be speaking to the principal about this."
"That's your right."
She leaves and I sit at my desk with my head in my hands trying not to cry. I'm good at my job. I know I'm good at my job. But Mrs. Patterson just spent fifteen minutes telling me I'm not and even though I know she's wrong it still hurts.
I hear footsteps in the hallway and look up expecting the janitor. It's Holt.
He's standing in my doorway in jeans and a t-shirt and he's looking at me with an expression I can't read.
"How long have you been there?" I ask.
"Long enough." He walks into my classroom. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine."
"You're not fine."
"I'm just frustrated. That parent was difficult."
"That parent was an asshole."
I almost laugh but it comes out wrong. "You can't call parents assholes."
"I just did." He sits in the desk chair across from mine. "She was wrong. You know that."
"I know. But it doesn't make it easier to hear."
"Her son is the problem. Not you."
"You don't know that. You've never been in my class."
"I've watched you teach."
I look up. "What?"
"I've stood in your doorway three different times watching you teach Louis's class. You're good at it. You're patient and you make it interesting and you actually care if they're learning. That parent was wrong about you."
My throat feels tight. "You've never said anything."
"I'm saying it now."
We look at each other and I don't know what to do with this. With him sitting in my classroom telling me I'm good at my job when I needed to hear it most. With the fact that he's been watching me teach and noticing and remembering.
"Thank you," I say quietly.
"Don't thank me. I'm just telling you the truth."
Louis appears in the doorway then. "Dad, are we going?"
"Yeah. One second." Holt stands and looks at me. "You going to be okay?"
"Yes."
"Good." He walks to the door and turns back. "Katherine."
"Yes?"
"That parent is going to complain to your principal. When she does, you tell them exactly what you told her. Her son is choosing not to participate. You've tried multiple approaches. The problem is his refusal, not your teaching. You stand your ground."
"Okay."
"I mean it. Don't let her make you doubt yourself."
He leaves with Louis and I sit in my empty classroom feeling completely rearranged.
Mrs. Patterson spent fifteen minutes trying to convince me I'm not good enough. Holt spent two minutes telling me I am and somehow his two minutes matter more than her fifteen.
I pack up my things and drive home and make dinner I actually eat this time. Sit on my couch with my book and actually read it. At seven-thirty my phone rings.
Holt.
"Hi," I say.
"Hi. How are you?"
"Better than I was."
"Good."
We're quiet for a moment. Then I say, "Thank you for today. For what you said after that parent left."
"I meant it."
"I know. That's why it mattered."
"Katherine."
"Yes?"
"Can I ask you something?"
"Of course."
"Last night. This morning. Breakfast with Louis. Was that okay? Was it too much too fast?"
I think about Louis showing me his rock collection. About making pancakes in Holt's kitchen. About the three of us sitting at the table eating breakfast like we'd done it a hundred times before.
"It wasn't too much," I say. "It was perfect."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. I want to do it again."
"Next weekend?"
"Yes."
"Okay. Good."
We talk for another twenty minutes about nothing important.
He tells me about a bike rebuild at Ray's shop.
I tell him about the book I'm reading. It's ordinary conversation between two people who like each other and it feels significant because we're choosing to have it instead of saying goodnight and hanging up.
When we finally say goodbye it's almost nine. I get ready for bed and lie in the dark thinking about Holt's kitchen and Louis's rock collection and the way Holt looked at me when he told me I'm good at my job.
A week ago I didn't know Holt existed. Now he's in my bed and in my head and in my life in ways that should terrify me but don't.
I think about the way he holds my hand. The way he kisses me like I'm the only thing that matters. The way he showed up at my door Saturday morning to tell me I'm his. The way Louis's face lit up when he saw me this morning. The way the three of us fit together over breakfast.
I think about Marrow and the danger that's still out there and the fact that Holt made sure I understood the club protects me now. That I'm not alone in this.
I think about all of it and I realize what this feeling is.
The one that's been building in my chest for a week. The one that made breakfast feel significant and hand-holding feel like a promise and Holt's two minutes in my classroom matter more than anyone else's opinion.
I'm in love with him.
The realization doesn't scare me the way I thought it would. It settles into my chest like something that was always going to be true and I just needed time to recognize it.
I'm in love with Holt. With his gruffness and his certainty and the way he loves his son.
With the way he sees me and the way he makes me feel seen. With the life he's building that has space for me in it.
I'm not ready to say it yet. Don't know if he's ready to hear it. But I know it's true the way I know anything true.
One week. That's all it took.
One week to fall completely in love with a man I didn't know existed eight days ago.
I fall asleep with his name on my lips and the certainty in my chest that this is permanent.
Tomorrow will come. Next week will come. Whatever Marrow is planning will come.
And I'll face all of it with Holt beside me.
Because I'm his. And he's mine.
And I love him.