The Spanish Teacher

'Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds'. William Shakespeare, "Sonnet CXVI"

Dear Diary,

This week was a tough week for Will; his ego can be his Achilles' heal, as I learnt from his response to me dating Carl. He doesn't cope well when its put under threat and this week one of the kids complained about his Spanish class (admittedly, 'La Cucaracha' wasn't one of his most inspired song choices), but as I said to Will when he came home all deflated and disgruntled, one bad lesson does not make you a bad teacher.

'Remember Will, you won Teacher of the Year.'

'That was years ago, maybe my passion lies elsewhere now.' He pulled me into him. Maybe I've lost my touch?'

'Believe me, you haven't lost your touch.' I caressed his face and he gave me a wane smile. 'The Glee kids love you.'

Figgins, upped the ante and dropped the word 'tenure' into Wills' head. Suddenly Will forgot that he's probably one of the best teachers in McKinley and focused on winning tenure because he wants to provide security for me. I love my 'knight' but sometimes he tries to save a damsel whether she's in distress or not. He decided to go to night school to brush up on his Spanish. He knows Spanish but he seemed to think he'd forgotten it all. I thought, let's see how this plays out. He did redeem himself by the end though, oh yes… did he redeem himself!

Will came home from his first class and told me he's glad the Spanish class isn't on the same night as my SAT prep evening class.

'Why not?' I asked.

Because the teacher, David, was a tooth model! As someone said in class to him, he's got the most beautiful teeth he's ever seen. And I know how you're attracted to perfect oral hygiene.

I laughed.

The next day Will came into my office and shut the door and pulled up a chair.

'You'll never guess what just happened?'

I shrugged my shoulders.

Sue has decided she wants a child!

'Is that even possible, at her age? Besides, didn't she tell you once she doesn't have a womb?

You never know what's truth or fiction with Sue. She said she had some eggs frozen in the 70's. Did it herself.

I laughed, imagining Sue's ovum sitting in her freezer.

Then Will dropped another bombshell.

She asked me to..to give her the sperm.

We looked at each other dumbfounded.

Sam and Mercedes came to see me this week. They were in luck: I had just got back my new series of pamphlets from the printer that uniquely address the modern issues of today's 21st century teen - 'So You're a Two Timin'-Ho' and 'So You're Dating a Two Timin'-Ho'. It got their attention. Just as I knew it would. Mercedes response to my pamphlets was, 'I'm just trying to hear what my heart is trying to tell me.' I said 'If you really want to listen then you have to stop talking.' I was serious. 'There's a lot of communication in your lives these days with texting and IM-ing and Facebook and you don't have any quiet time with yourselves to make informed decisions on your true feelings.' My point was made perfectly valid by Sam using his phone while I was saying this! I recommended that they not talk to each other for a week – no emails, no texts, nothing and I think at the end of that week you'll have a much better idea of what your true feelings are. Not having Will to talk to last year, made me realize, how much I missed him, made me realize how much of a mistake I'd made.

Then Santana challenged Will to do his own Spanish performance and things got worse. Meanwhile, I braced myself and confronted Sue.

I handed her a pamphlet 'Please Don't Hog My Fiance's Nog'.

'I take it Will told you?'

'Yes Will tells me everything. It is so inappropriate for you to ask him to father your child.'

'Have a seat Lady Bird Hollow Pelvis and be careful those chairs are hard, I know how fragile your bones are.'

'Look, I know how it feels to want to start a family, I want to have a baby too, but…'

'I wouldn't get your hopes up, I'm not sure your avian frame could withstand the rigours of child birth.'

'Ok, just tell me why, why Will? You hate him, you've made that very clear.'

'In case you haven't noticed I have a little bit of mean streak, I'm cunning, I'm vindictive, I spend a large portion of every day vibrating with a palpable sense of wild, irrational rage and I don't ever want my kid to feel that. Every time I've insulted Will, tried to stop him in his crusade to ruin pop culture by wiping his lily behind with the American songbook, he's always risen up and met me with kindness, if goodness and optimism are somehow genetic, that's what I want for my child. (I was struck by the truthfulness and integrity of her intention.) He isn't gonna do it is he?'

'I prefer to let him tell you that. I'm really sorry Sue. You know for what it's worth, I think you should have a child, I think it would be really good for you.' (I walked off, once again Sue Sylvester had left me speechless.)

Will told me some days later that she's found another donor.

I got my new pamphlets back from the printer. I was so proud of them, some of my wittiest to date, I went to show Will, there was one in particular I wanted him to see. He was sitting on the couch rifling through Spanish/English dictionaries for his performance to show Santana. I sat down next to him and opened the box.

'I'm feeling so Stephen King with these things lately. I'm so prolific. Will was preoccupied trying to make the perfect Spanish lesson. I placed the brochure I wanted him to see in front of him: 'Performance Anxiety – it's not just for teenage boys.' I thought he'd get it – worrying all week about his teaching performance, but his reaction was not one of amusement.

'Do you realize how important this tenure is for us, if we want to start a family it means we will always be able to feed our kids, give them health insurance…' I put 'How to give yourself stitches on his dictionary and he spat the dummy. 'Can't you see I'm doing this to take care of you?'

'OK. I think I can take care of myself. You know what? I'm sorry, I just wanted to show you my new pamphlets. I'm really proud of them.'

'They're silly Emma.' He saw the anger in my eyes. 'Sorry I love you, but do you really think the kids take them seriously?'

I put the pamphlets back. 'You know what, I know the titles are silly, that's the point, sometimes you have to be a little provocative if you want to get teenagers' attention – they're conversation starters. And you're being really mean.'

'Have you got a pamphlet for that?'

I walked off. Ignoring his 'Emma I'm sorry, Emma wait.' He can be such a blind child.

Shannon called me a genius in front of Will. He walked into the lunch room as she said the word 'genius' Will jokingly inquired if she was calling him a genius for the set list he's decided on for Nationals. I watched him.

No Will, she handed him my pamphlet, 'T'aint Misbehaving'. He looked confused.

Shannon explained how it was about the importance of thoroughly washing your jock strap. Will laughed with embarrassed amusement. Then Shannon explained how the bacteria was no laughing matter and no matter how many times she tells the boys about the steaming, lurking dangers, nobody cared until I found a way to get through to them. And now their cables and bits are as clean as a little angel tear and when she showed them to Cooter not only did he order 10,000 copies for Ohio State he got every team in the big 10 to order copies too.

'It's genius,' she exclaimed again, 'I've never met a teacher whose passion literally saves lives. Aren't you proud of her Will?'

I looked at him.

'Yes, absolutely.' He said looking at me with conviction.

I believe he's been suitably chastised and humbled and his ego has been put back in its place. Thank you Shannon.

That night when he got home from his night class he sat down next to me and said:

'I've taken the history teaching position Figgins had advertised on the notice board. I offered David my job as Spanish teacher.' Try not to fall in love with his teeth or his sexy dance moves.'

'What's prompted this?'

'Santana.' I sang, Elvis Presley's classic, 'A Little Less Conversation' this afternoon in full bullfighting regalia, trying to show her who was boss. She said I was perpetuating stereotypes and asked me why I became a Spanish teacher. I was embarrassed to say I became a Spanish teacher because it was the only teaching position open at the time. Then she said something that pulled me up short. Something you taught me. She said, 'Without passion you can't succeed. You taught us that and you do when you teach Glee.' 'Spanish isn't my passion. Music is and helping kids express themselves is.'

'I know. For the time being though, history will do.'

Will looked into my eyes, 'We're all students of life, aren't we? Some of us just learn faster than others.'

And so the week came to an end with a more enlightened Will and tenure for me! Now I can take care of Will! On Friday afternoon I went to look at some bridal gowns. When I got home I walked in to find Will wearing my apron, candles lit, carrots perfectly aligned on the plate and wine on the table. What's all this?' I asked. He didn't say anything, just pulled out a pamphlet from his apron pocket: 'So you were a jerk to your fiancé.' Not particularly clever but I appreciate your pith.' I commented. Then he reached into the apron again and pulled out, 'Congratulations, I love you', with a picture of me on the cover! I gave him a hug. 'They're wonderful. A little myopic maybe but a great first effort.' I told him.

'I'm so proud of you.' he said, leading me to the table, pulling out a chair and placing the napkin over my lap. 'So do I call you Professor or Madam or what? I'm not sure of the protocol here.'

'No, no, no, it's just tenure, you can call me Emma, or sweetheart or cutiepie or dollface or Professor Doll Face! I like Professor Dollface.

He knelt beside me. 'My first marriage didn't work out because my wife didn't believe in me and then I go and pull the same crap on you. All I know is right now, in this moment I just want it to stop and sit here eat some chicken and look back on everything you've done to reach this moment and everything I'm going to do from this moment on to make sure you feel as special and amazing as I know you are.' His kisses made my heart dance and as the last words fell from his mouth, I watched his lips, anticipating their fall on mine, already feeling their passionate touch and his warm breath mingled with mine. They came. We reluctantly paused for air and I rested my forehead against his, smiling. I couldn't decide whether the heat was from the flames in the fireplace or from us.

'Can we put the chicken on hold for a while?'

'Why?

I picked up my glass of wine and lead him to the couch stating, 'Those weren't my lips you just kissed…it was my soul. Don't stop.'

After dinner, he announced, 'Professor Dollface, your bath will be ready in 5 minutes. He took a wooden spoon with him and said, 'Do not touch a dish.' I followed him to the bathroom and watched bemusedly as he presented one bath oil to me after another, waiting for my nod of approval before he poured it in. With each addition he stirred the steaming water with the wooden spoon. I laughed. Finally, it was ready, a cauldron of scent and bubbles.

'Relax while I clean up. Here's a bridal magazine to read if you get bored.

I undressed and sank into the hot water. Five minutes later, I glanced up from the magazine to find him leaning against the door frame, watching me.

'Will this is almost the perfect bath.'

'Almost?' he frowned.

'Mmm it's just missing one thing.'

'What?'

'You.'

His mouth opened and then closed again.

'Aren't you coming in?'

I've never seen him undress so fast.