The School Board Member
"Denise has fought for education equity for twenty years. When a superintendent candidate shares her vision, she discovers some policies need personal implementation."
Every child deserves opportunity.
I've said it a thousand times—in board meetings, at rallies, fighting for resources. I'm Denise—fifty-eight, school board president, voice for the voiceless.
"Your record is impressive."
The superintendent candidate reviews my files across the conference table. Marcus Webb—former principal, education reformer, interviewing for our highest position.
"So is yours." I set down his résumé. "Why Baltimore?"
"Because you're here." His answer is direct. "I've watched your work for years. You're what education leadership should look like."
The interview becomes collaboration.
His ideas align with mine—equity, access, community investment. The board votes unanimously.
"Welcome, Dr. Webb."
"Thank you, Madam President." His handshake lingers. "I look forward to working with you."
Working together is intense.
Late meetings, shared battles, building something neither could alone.
"They don't make it easy," I note after a contentious hearing.
"Change never is." He packs his briefcase. "But it's worth it. With the right partner."
"Partner?"
His eyes meet mine. "In every sense."
"Marcus—"
"I know the complications." He moves closer. "Board president and superintendent. But I've been on committees with people I've hated. This is the opposite."
"What is this?"
"What I've wanted since I read your first policy paper ten years ago." He touches my hand. "Admiration that became more."
The kiss happens after a board victory.
Late night, empty chamber, celebration becoming something else.
"This is inappropriate," I breathe.
"This is overdue." He smiles. "We've been dancing around it for months."
His townhouse is filled with education memorabilia.
Awards, photos with students, a life dedicated to service.
"We're the same," I realize.
"Which is why this works." He takes my hands. "Let me show you what I've imagined, Denise."
He undresses me like policy.
Careful, considered, addressing every section.
"Beautiful," he murmurs.
"I'm all work—"
"You're everything." His mouth finds my neck. "Let me advocate for you."
His advocacy is thorough.
Hands that have signed diplomas now trace my body. When his mouth travels lower, I forget meeting agendas.
"Marcus—"
"This is our executive session." He settles between my thighs. "No minutes required."
When he enters me, we're passing a resolution.
"So good," he groans.
"More. This is unanimous consent."
"Every vote. Every time."
Afterward, in his bed, we strategize.
"People will talk," I note.
"Let them." He pulls me closer. "We've spent our lives serving others. Now we serve each other too."
"The ethics board—"
"Will see two adults who followed every rule until they found something worth breaking them for." He kisses my forehead. "Marry me, Denise. Let's build something together."
The announcement is strategic.
Timed with policy wins, framed with professionalism. Critics have nothing to grab.
"To the woman who taught me what partnership means," Marcus toasts at our engagement party.
"To the man who brought the same lesson," I counter.
The wedding is in a school auditorium.
Where we've fought, where we've won, where students perform in celebration.
We kiss while the future watches.
Some policies are written.
Some are lived.
And some board members discover that the best governance is leading beside someone who shares your vision.
Resolution passed.
Mission shared.
Forever learning.