Live-In Position

by V. S. Tice

  “Sit down.” His tone was forceful and startled me. The warmth from his hands radiated through my clothing and deep into my skin.

  “I have to pick Victoria up from school,” I croaked as he sat me on the bed. I put my head in my hands to stop the room from spinning.

  “You are in no condition to drive, dear.” I heard the older man’s voice behind me.

  “Victoria is taken care of. William will pick her up.” Dr. Bishop’s voice sounded closer.

  “Please lie down.” I did as the older gentlemen requested. Cool hands rested on my head and opened my eyes to look up at him. “I’m Dr. Vaughn, by the way.” He had a large thin-lipped smile.

  “Pleasure to meet you,” I croaked.

  “Open up.” He held a light in my face and looked into my throat, ears, nose, and then took my temperature. “You said Victoria just got over strep, right?” He looked over me to Dr. Bishop. He must have silently answered him because I didn’t hear anything. “Well, dear, it seems Victoria has shared her germs with you.” He smirked down at me. “Are you allergic to any medicines?”

  I shook my head.

  “Alright, well I am going to give you a penicillin shot and leave you with some cough medicine. You can use Motrin or Tylenol for the fever.” I felt the pinch in my arm and then heard the bottles as he set them on the table next my bed. “If any other symptoms arise, please call me.”

  “Okay,” I rasped. Dr. Bishop answered at the same time. Too tired to even care about Dr. Bishop, I rolled over to my side and fell back to sleep.

  Waking at two in the morning with my first coughing attack, I rolled out of bed and got a drink of water from the bathroom. I stopped just before lying back down. Dr. Bishop hovered in my open doorway.

  “I, uh...I just got a drink of water,” I choked out and then started coughing horribly. Ignoring him, I stretched across my bed and grabbed the cough syrup. When I looked back towards the door Dr. Bishop was gone.

  The next morning, I woke to hot tea and toast, courtesy of Mrs. Baker.

  “Thank you,” I coughed.

  “Of course,” she smiled down and brushed sweaty hair off of my forehead.

  “Sophia!” Victoria ran in and jumped on the bed, crawling up to lie down with me.

  “Hey, you.” I pulled her into a hug.

  “You aren’t dying, are you?” She looked at me with concern.

  “No,” I coughed. “I feel like it, but I’m not. I promise.”

  She eyed me skeptically. “Nanny Swear?”

  “Nanny Swear,” I grinned.

  Mrs. Baker took Victoria when she left the room, and I drifted back to sleep.

  My off weekend turned into a weekend in bed. And the fact that Dr. Bishop stayed home all weekend was odd. I never knew what he did on my weekends off, but I certainly didn’t think he was much of a homebody. Victoria, on the other hand, was not home at all. It was weird being there without her.

  I woke up late Saturday morning feeling a little better, but still awfully congested. I tried a hot shower in an attempt to feel human again. After drying off and brushing my wet hair, I slipped into another pair of cotton shorts and a t-shirt.

  Sick of being in bed, I walked out to the living room of my suite and stopped when I saw Dr. Bishop sitting on a chair by the small table at the far side of the room. He had his laptop open and was talking on his cell phone.

  Quietly, I made my way to the couch and curled up with a throw pillow and blanket, grabbing the television remote. I switched on the television and his attention fell on me. He mumbled into his cell and then set his phone on the table.

  “Good morning.”

  I looked over to him and forced a smile.

  “Morning.” The television got my attention.

  “Are you feeling okay?” His movement from the chair toward me brought my eyes back to him.

  “Yes, much better. Thank you.” Our eyes lingered. “You know, for the doctor and–”

  “Couldn’t have you running around sick,” he said in his ever-present detached tone.

  “No, I guess not.” My response was clipped, and I returned my attention to the television.

  He cleared his throat. In my peripheral vision, I watched his posture stiffen.

  “You were, umm, talking in your sleep last night. Are you sure you are feeling well?”

  Covering my face with my hands, I peeked through my fingers.

  “Yes,” I groaned. “What did I say?”

  He actually cracked half of a smile. For a moment I thought he might be having a stroke.

  “Something about the Antichrist and Stepford Wives.”

  Heat filled my cheeks, and I shook my head.

  “I’m fine. Thank you.” I started coughing.

  “That cough doesn’t sound fine.” He stepped forward.

  I waved him off as I got up and walked toward the door of my room, heading to the kitchen for juice.

  “Where are you going?” His hand grabbed my arm and brought me around.

  A tingling blossomed in my arm and the heat of his skin crept across mine. His touch was causing unexpected reactions. Surprised, I jerked my arm back.

  “Sorry.” His brow furrowed.

  “Kitchen, juice,” I coughed out and started walking again. At the top of the stairs, I could feel his presence besides me.

  “I can get it for you. Go back to your room.” He pushed past me and started down the stairs. At the bottom of the stairs, he looked up. “Go back to your room. I don’t need germs spread throughout the house,” he scolded.

  I was still trying to fight off the debilitating coughing when he reentered my room with three glasses—water, orange juice, and grape juice.

  “I wasn’t sure which you would prefer.”

  I grabbed the orange juice and drank greedily.

  “Thank you,” I breathed out, finally able to speak.

  “You’re welcome.” He watched me for a long time, and I caught myself fidgeting under his stare.

  Before I could say anything, he moved to the table and grabbed his things.

  “I’ll be in my office if you need anything, and Mrs. Baker is around the house this afternoon.”

  “Okay, thanks again.” I curled back up on the couch.

  “My office is closest though,” he mumbled and walked out the door, shutting it behind him.

  I stared at the door for a while before I finally looked back to the movie on the television. I couldn’t tell you what the movie was about.

  Chapter Five

  BY MONDAY MORNING, I was still sucking on cough drops and popping cold and sinus pills like an addict, but at least I was able to function. I managed to get Victoria up, dressed, fed, and to school. After I dropped her off, I headed to the grocery store and to the bank. I also decided to make a last minute shopping trip. Victoria’s birthday was a couple of weeks away and I wanted to get her something without her seeing it.

  The afternoon passed quickly. I picked Victoria up and decided to bring up her birthday on the drive back to the house.

  “Someone has a birthday coming up,” I sang.

  She barely showed signs of happiness. What kid doesn’t love her birthday?

  “Aren’t you excited? You’re going to be seven!” I was full of the enthusiasm she was lacking, but she stayed reserved.

  “Yes, I’m excited.” Her fingers played with the hem of her skirt.

  “Why the gloom and doom face?”

  “Gloom and doom?” She raised an eyebrow at me.

  “Yeah, you know, the sad face? What’s going on?”

  “Nothing,” she shrugged. “My birthday isn’t a big deal.”

  “You’re way too young to say birthdays aren’t a big deal. Why aren’t you excited?”

  She shrugged again.

  I was determined to get her pumped up. I parked the car in the driveway and helped her out of the car.

  “What kind of party do you want to have?”

  “Oh, Grandma always has a tea party o
n the Sunday after my birthday.” She pulled her bag out from the back seat.

  “Your friends like that?” It sounded awfully stuffy to me.

  “My friends aren’t there. It’s Grandma, Aunt Allison, and Aunt Rissa.”

  We walked into the house, and she dropped her bag on the kitchen floor before hopping up onto the stool at the bar. I pulled out the snack I’d prepared for her and slid the plate in front of her.

  “So, you don’t have like a birthday party or a sleepover with your friends?”

  With her mouth full, she shook her head no.

  “Well…that sucks!” I slammed the palm of my hand to the counter. Her eyes widened. “Let’s have a sleepover.”

  She swallowed quickly.

  “You mean have my friends over and we all sleep in my room?”

  “Yep! We eat popcorn, watch movies, dance around and sing, and, heck, we can dress up too.” I grabbed a carrot stick from her plate and took a bite.

  “Really?”

  Finally, I saw some of the excitement that was missing from her eyes earlier.

  “Heck yeah!” I assured. “I’ll get some invitations tomorrow while you’re at school and then you can pass them out on Wednesday. Okay?”

  She nodded enthusiastically, and I began to form party plans in my head.

  While she finished her snack and did her homework, I made a list of things to get for the party.

  Victoria took twenty-five invitations to school and by the following weekend we had ten RSVPs. The week before her party there were four more RSVPs. Apparently getting a chance to have your child in attendance for a Bishop birthday party was all the rage—at least that’s what Ella and Amber told me.

  Victoria was so excited about her party that we had to go over every detail during all of our car trips.

  “Ashley told me today she has already put together her best outfit and accessories for the fashion show. Laura and Jessica said they are ready too. What movies are we going to get? Am I getting a cake?”

  “Breathe, girl, breathe!”

  She took a deep breath and calmed herself.

  “What movies do you want? I can stop and get them if you don’t already own them,” I teased. “And, yes, you are getting a cake. I ordered it today – vanilla with whipped cream icing just like you wanted.”

  “Yes!” She pumped her fist in the air.

  On Friday, Roberto had a hard time keeping Victoria focused on her Spanish lesson. He eventually gave up and spent the last thirty minutes of their lesson listening to her talk about her party.

  “She is definitely excited about her birthday,” he smiled as I walked him to the door.

  “Yes, she is.”

  “This is the first year out of the three I’ve been working with her that she ever mentioned her birthday.” He looked at me for a long moment, but I wasn’t quite sure how to read his expression. Without an explanation, he said, “Well, good evening.”

  “Night.” I closed the door and headed to the kitchen.

  Victoria was sitting at the counter on a stool kicking her feet back and forth. “Look!” She held up a picture. It was of her, Miranda, and me standing side by side on Halloween.

  “That’s a good one.” I went to check on the chicken.

  “When did you get these?” she asked in a quizzical tone.

  “I just picked them up today. They’d been done for a few days, but I kept forgetting to stop and pick them up.” I flipped the chicken and started mashing the potatoes. “Hey, go wash up for dinner, please.”

  “Okay!” I heard her little feet hit the tile floor as she got down. “Oomph!” I heard her gasp out and quickly turned to see if she was okay. “Sorry, Daddy.” Her tone was low and worried.

  My eyes widened when Dr. Bishop entered the kitchen. I quickly looked to the clock.

  What was he doing here? Didn’t he have a meeting with the seven hounds of hell or something? Did the Devil get the night off?

  “It’s…please be careful.” His tone was stale and low.

  “Yes, sir,” she mumbled and walked away. I heard the water running in the bathroom down the hall.

  “I’ll be leaving this evening and will not be back until Sunday. My mother will be stopping to pick-up Victoria late Sunday morning for her birthday party.”

  As he spoke, I could actually feel my face contort into a scowl.

  How could he leave on his daughter’s birthday? Why didn’t he participate in her life?

  Then he set down a tiny blue box on the counter. “This is her present from me. Could you please see –?”

  Victoria came bounding back into the kitchen.

  “Maybe you should give it to Victoria yourself.” It came out short, but I couldn’t help it. Turning back to the potatoes before I said anything else that would get me fired, I stirred them.

  “Give me what?” The stool squeaked as she climbed back onto it.

  There was a long silence and I could feel his stare into the back of my head.

  “Happy birthday,” he said in a monotone voice.

  I heard Victoria gasp. “A present?” When I looked back, her little face was turned up to him full of adoration.

  “Oh, thank you, Daddy!” She threw her arms around his waist.

  “You are, uh, welcome. Okay, let go…so you can open it.” I swear for a moment the ice in his voice melted. I heard paper ripping, and then Victoria squealed.

  “It’s beautiful! Sophia, look!” Still stirring the potatoes, I looked over my shoulder. “It’s a mermaid!” She smiled widely. In her hand was a silver, maybe platinum necklace with a mermaid pendant dangling from the chain.

  “It will look beautiful on you,” I continued to work on the vegetables.

  “Thank you so much, Daddy. Can you put it on me?”

  “Umm…sure.” The frigid tone of his voice made me want to throw the spoon at his head.

  I’d moved onto whisking the gravy when his voice filled the kitchen again. “What are these?”

  “Those are the pictures from Halloween. Sophia just got them today.” She was obviously ecstatic her father was holding a conversation with her for a change.

  “Who is this?” he asked bitterly.

  “That was Sophia’s prince,” Victoria giggled.

  I unintentionally snorted out loud.

  “I’m going to finish packing.” And with a sudden abruptness, Dr. Bishop left the kitchen.

  The next day, I dropped Victoria off at Karate class and went to pick up the birthday cake and other things for the party. When we returned home, we started to set up.

  We decorated the kitchen with pink and silver streamers and balloons and set the cake out on the large kitchen table no one used. Mrs. Baker helped me remove the chairs and table from the large dining room so I could surprise Victoria with a rented platform. It was only about four inches off of the ground, but Mrs. Baker and I decorated the far wall with pink and silver in an attempt to make it look like a runway. I even thought to rent mirrors like they have at ballet studios so they could all see themselves as they walked the runway.

  Around three in the afternoon, the guests began to arrive. Each was given a tiara and a feather boa when they walked through the door. Their things were taken to Victoria’s room, and then we all congregated in the kitchen.

  Once our confirmed sixteen girls had arrived, the party began. We ate the many appetizers I had ordered, sang happy birthday, and ate cake. Then it was time for the show so I herded them all upstairs where everyone started changing into her outfit.

  “Sophia, where is yours?” Victoria looked at me curiously.

  “I, uh, actually I didn’t plan on wearing one. I’m going to be the photographer.” I held up the camera.

  “Come on, girls! We have to find Sophia an outfit!” Victoria ran out of her room into mine. I followed them.

  “What are you doing?” I called after them. When I walked into my room, there were five girls in my closet and six sitting on my bed. The remaining girls staye
d in Victoria’s room to finish getting dressed.

  “This is perfect.” Victoria’s voice sounded muffled from the back of my closet.

  “That’s pretty,” Jessica chimed in. “Put it on!”

  Laura jumped up and down. Victoria handed me the one good dress I owned, what I considered my “date dress” – a dark blue halter dress that stopped just above my knee. With an empire waist and a pleated skirt, it was almost like a dark blue version of the famous Marilyn Monroe dress.

  “I don’t think I should risk messing up this dress. It’s my really good dress. I love it,” I whined.

  “Come on”…“Please”…“You can be careful.” I finally gave in to all of their pleas and put the dress on.

  “Great job, ladies. I look hot!” I did a pose, one hand on my jutted out hip and the other hand at the back of my head as I made a big pucker face. They all started giggling. “Okay! Time for the runway! Follow me.” I led them down the stairs to the dining room, recently converted into our fashion show venue.

  “When did you get this?” Victoria squealed in delight.

  “This is so cool!” another girl yelled with excitement.

  “Everyone line up.” They did as instructed. I played some music and then started sending them up the platform one at a time. Standing at the end of the runway, I took pictures of them as they walked, shouting things like "Work it!"…"That’s it"…"Hold it"…"Smile!"…"Give me serious"…"Give me fun"…"Smile with your eyes, Becca!" I guess I watch a little too much ‘Next Top Model.’

  Everyone took her turn, including me. Some walked down more than once. We sang and danced, and everyone seemed to thoroughly enjoy the runway. After the music died, I sent them upstairs to change and wash up. Still in my dress, I went to the kitchen to make popcorn and get drinks.

  When I arrived upstairs, half of the girls were cleaned up and changed. I could hear the others still in the bathroom. I started setting up the movie.