Authors: V.S. Tice
“She has a car,” Dr. Bishop spat and moved toward me. He took my arm and pulled me along with him toward Victoria.
I mouthed “sorry” to Dominic. He simply grinned.
Nothing else was said in regards to my dancing with Dominic, but I was insulted.
The nerve of him to think he could pull me away. He wasn’t my father, and I was damn well old enough to choose a dance partner.
Two days later, I was in the laundry room, putting a load in the wash when Mrs. Baker entered.
“It seems you have a visitor.” Her brow was raised, in approval.
“A visitor?”
She nodded and gestured toward the front of the house.
In the foyer stood Dominic Erickson. He was dressed casually, and it suited him well. Dark jeans and a red sweater that my fingers twitched to touch.
“H-hello,” I stuttered, feeling grungy in yoga capris and a t-shirt.
He grinned widely. “Hello, yourself.”
“Um, is there something you needed?”
“First, you could give me your phone number.” I opened my mouth, but he stopped me. “Second, you could go out with me this Saturday.”
“I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?” He took a step closer to me.
“I can’t. It’s not my Saturday off,” I clarified.
“Ah, but I can have your number?”
“I, um, why?” I sputtered.
His hand came up and cupped my face.
“Because I want to take you out.” He dropped his hand. “When’s your next day off?”
“Sunday, but…”
“But nothing. Can I pick you up around one?”
“If I say no, will it matter?”
“Hmm…probably not.” Victory was written all over his face.
“Do you always get things your way?”
“Usually,” he grinned. “I can’t help it. I have amazing skills of persuasion.”
I laughed.
“So, one o’clock on Sunday?”
“Okay,” I nodded.
“Good, now how about that number?”
I shook my head. “I don’t have a pen.”
He handed me his blackberry. “Don’t need one, just enter your number next to Gorgeous.”
“Oh, you’re good.” Smiling, I typed in my cell number.
Dominic left, and Mrs. Baker was quick to pull me back into the laundry room.
“Dear lord, that man is scrumdelicioso.”
“Scrumdelio—what?” I giggled.
“Lord, help me.” She fanned herself. “He has to be Greek. If you hadn’t given him your number, I was going to sneak around and give it to him for you.”
I gasped. “You were eavesdropping?”
“Honey, when you get to be my age, you will live vicariously through others too.”
When Sunday arrived, Victoria helped me get ready for my date. “What’s the matter?” She was oddly upset, especially when dressing me was one of her favorite things to do.
“Nothing,” she lied.
“Come on,” I nudged her shoulder, “what’s up?”
She shrugged.
“I just, I mean, I’m…”
A knock at my door interrupted Victoria.
“Go ahead,” I urged her to continue.
Suddenly my bedroom door swung open, and Grace stood in the entryway with a perplexed look on her face.
“There’s someone at the door for you.” One perfectly waxed eyebrow rose in question.
“Thank you.” I looked back to Victoria. “What were you saying?”
She shook her head.
“Have fun.” Victoria hurried from the room.
There was a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach as I descended the stairs. My eyes widened when I saw Dr. Bishop speaking in hushed tones with Dominic. My stomach clenched tighter. Dominic followed my approach with eager eyes
“There she is.” As soon as I was in arm’s length, he pulled me into a hug.
I pushed back from him and gave him a questioning look.
“Good afternoon, Collin.” Dominic quickly pulled me into another embrace and out of the house.
“What was that about?” I pulled from his embrace.
He shrugged. “Nothing.”
“Yeah, right.” I stopped walking.
“What?”
“I can go back inside.”
“Okay, okay. Let’s just say Collin and I aren’t the best of friends. The fact that I showed up to take you out is eating away at him.” He grinned.
“Why would he care? It’s not like you’re here to see Grace.” I wrinkled my forehead trying to think it over.
“Because it’s me.”
“So I’m just a pawn in your game then?”
“No, of course not. It’s just a bonus.” He held open the door of his 1964 dark blue Ford Mustang and ushered me to get in.
I hesitated at the door.
“I swear to you, I didn’t ask you to dance with me because of him nor did I ask you out because of him. I wanted to ask you out the moment I saw you at the dinner. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you. I had no clue who you worked for or who you were, for that matter, until later.”
One part of me wanted to tell him to go to hell and to play with someone else, but then another part wanted to play the game too. I got into the car.
Game on.
C
hapter
N
ine
THE DATE WITH Dominic was fun. We went to a matinee movie at one and then he drove thirty minutes to the Cascade Valley Heritage Corridor. The drive was beautiful. In Fall City, the Snoqualmie River ran visibly on the left of the corridor. We entered the canopy of forest and stopped at the Snoqualmie Falls Overlook. The powerful roar of the waterfalls, the lush greenery at the edges of the water, and the views of the Cascades and Mount Si in the distance left me breathless. Continuing on to the Northwest Railway Museum, we looked at old locomotive artifacts - eccentric cranks and engines once functional on the historic railroad. There were old photographs of the Snoqualmie Depot from the 1800’s and engineers leaning against their large locomotives. At a small restaurant we ate and talked. Although he talked mostly about his job and his love for muscle cars, I enjoyed our time together. There was only one problem – no romantic spark, not even a small ember. As much as I enjoyed his company, I deflected his attempts at closing the space between us. My attempts got through, and he didn’t try anything. He left me at the door with a kiss to my forehead.
On date two, Dominic stepped up his game. Switching from casual and laid back, he arrived in a black 1978 Corvette and took me to an expensive restaurant. Over candlelight and red wine, he tried to ask more about me. After dinner, we ended up at the Capitol Hill Lookout. He pulled out all the stops, and eventually I succumbed to his charms.
When his lips met mine, they were soft yet powerful. His lips tasted like red wine, and for a brief moment, I thought a flame started to form in my belly. But the second his hand slipped under the side slit of my dress, the feeling turned into unease. He wasn’t happy when I stopped him, and he turned up both his charm and his determination. It took two “I think it’s time for me to get home,” and one “Take me home” before he finally gave up.
There were multiple late night calls and a few more dates, but that something was still missing. He was fun, and we had a great time together, but there was no spark, no heat between us. It grated on my nerves that I didn’t feel stronger for him, but I had to tell him. I couldn’t lead him on.
To my relief, he felt the same way but still enjoyed spending time with me. He also made it clear he was willing to be friends with benefits.
We continued to see each other, as friends, no benefits. Dom made sure to play up the so-called date when Dr. Bishop was around, and I had to frequently yell at him for it. I didn’t need any more problems than I already had with Dr. Bishop and Grace.
Victoria came out with us one afternoon and had a great time at the zoo and ice cream parlor, but she was cold toward Dominic. When I asked her about it, she admitted to not liking him. I couldn’t fault her for the way she felt so I didn’t have her come out with us again. In a way, it hurt that she didn’t like him. I wanted her to be there with me. I was really missing the time we’d lost. Grace was still trying to build their relationship, and it felt like Victoria was pulling away from me, in favor of her mother. I knew I had to let her go, but it was breaking my heart.
That was my thought until one Saturday afternoon in March. It was my day off. After getting dressed to meet Miranda, I passed by Victoria’s room and overheard her conversation with Grace.
“Let’s have makeovers!” Victoria sounded excited.
“Okay, do you want me to call the salon?”
I heard Victoria giggle lightly.
“No. I want to give you one.”
“O-h,” Grace puffed out. “Um…I’m not sure.”
“It will be fun.” I heard rustling. “Put this on.”
“The tutu?” Grace sounded insulted.
“Yeah.” Victoria’s excitement deflated.
“Oh, baby, no. Mommy doesn’t wear this stuff.” There was a long silence.
“Okay,” Victoria mumbled.
“What are you doing with that?” Grace almost shrieked.
“I’m going to do your make up.”
“No, baby, Mommy has special make-up that she uses.”
I rolled my eyes and started toward the steps.
“Then let’s get yours—”
“No, no. It’s not to play with, Victoria,” Grace scolded.
I was irritated but forced myself toward the stairs. Halfway to the steps I heard Victoria pipe in.
“Sophia does it.”
I bit the side of my mouth, to keep from laughing.
“She only does it because she’s paid to do those things. We’ve talked about this before, Victoria.”
I bit down, but not from amusement, from pure anger. Wincing at the pain, the coppery taste of my blood almost made me gag. Quickly, I ran downstairs to meet with Miranda before I ended up going to jail for knocking the hell harpy out.
At a local bar Miranda listened to me bitch and complain, all the time reassuring me of my right to feel angry. Drowning my frustration in too much food and drink, my anger dissipated.
When I got back to the Bishop house, I was rejuvenated enough to go inside. That good feeling left me as soon as I passed Victoria’s room. The soft sound of sobs poured from her room. Mid-stride, I leaned my ear to her door. Pushing the door open, the sight of her balled up on her bed crying pained me.
“Victoria?” I whispered.
She sniffed and tried to be quiet. I entered the room and stood next to her bed looking down at her.
“You’re a terrible actress. Maybe I should see if there are some acting lessons you can take along with your other lessons.” I ruffled her hair.
She looked up at me with a small smile. I sat down and rubbed her leg.
“What’s going on?”
She sat up Indian style next to me, her eyes staring into her lap. She sniffed again and wiped her wet cheeks with her hands.
“Don’t you like me anymore?”
“What?” My voice cracked.
“You…um…we don’t play together anymore.” Her tone was low and almost inaudible. “You don’t play with me like before.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” Wrapping my arms around her, I pulled her to my lap. “I’ve been giving you and your mommy time to get to know one another.” I kissed the top of her head. “Of course I still like you.” I squeezed her tight.
Victoria’s arms wrapped around my shoulders.
“Can we watch a movie?”
Pulling back, I looked into her face.
“It’s sort of late. Do you have early plans tomorrow with your mom?”
She shook her head.
“Okay, what movie? Wait, let me guess…the mermaid one?” I winked.
She giggled.
“Let me go change my clothes. You put the movie in.”
I quickly went to my room and slipped into a pair of yoga pants and a tank top. I grabbed a sweatshirt and headed back to Victoria. Closing my door behind me, I looked up and saw Dr. Bishop exiting his room in his robe. “Is she still awake?” His voice carried down the empty hall and sent a chill through my body.
I cleared my throat quietly and faced him.
“Yes, she was awake when I got home this evening. I checked on her, and she couldn’t sleep so I suggested we watch a movie.” I waited for some type of response.
Under the intensity of his gaze, I began to fidget. I glanced from the floor to his face and saw his eyes focused on one spot. Following his line of sight, I realized my tank top didn’t fully cover my midsection. I swallowed hard and rushed to slip my baggy sweatshirt over my head, to cover my “half-dressed” body.
I got it on and looked back at him. His eyebrows were knitted together, and his hands were clenched at his sides. It looked as if he was a foot closer to me, but I tossed the thought out as quickly as it occurred. His chest rose and fell with a heavy breath before he turned away from me and headed toward the stairs.
Once back in Victoria’s room, I saw she’d placed the pillows at the foot of the bed, closer to the television, and was leaning on her elbows waiting patiently. I shut the door, ran, and leapt onto her bed, causing her to bounce up and down.
“Who are you? Super nanny?”
“Of course I am. Who else were you expecting?” I tickled her sides.
She scooted closer to me. “I’ve missed you.”
I pressed my forehead to hers. “I’ll always be here for you.”
“Always?” she whispered.
“Always.”
“Even when you marry Dominic?”
“What? Who said we were getting married?” I choked.
“Grace.”
“I’m not marrying Dominic. Not even close,” I reassured her.
“Nanny Swear?” She held out her pinky finger.
I knotted my pinky with hers. “Super Nanny Swear.”
With a giggle, she snuggled against me.
The Bishops were preparing for their annual family vacation in Whidbey Island. Every June, they traveled to the beach house. Miranda had pre-warned me I would most likely be required to go on the trip. I started to worry about being trapped in one house with Allison, Ilene, and Grace.
Grace had backed off of Victoria quite a bit. There weren’t as many mommy-daughter outings. She had found her place among the stepford wives who couldn’t wait to get the possible Mrs. Doctor Bishop into their social groups. Shopping trips, socializing, and assisting the leaders of the stepford club with upcoming social events now absorbed her time. It irritated me that she brushed Victoria off so quickly, but I was also relieved to have her back under my wing so I could keep an eye on her well being.
I was surprised one morning, toward the end of April, when Grace spontaneously requested I get Victoria dressed to go out for the afternoon. I was happy she was going to spend time with her. After she was dressed, I pulled her hair up with some clips. I wrapped her in a light jacket before Grace sped off with her in her new convertible.
After working on my book for six hours, I heard the commotion of people arriving. Suspecting it was Grace and Victoria, I saved my progress and closed my laptop. Halfway down the stairs, I could hear Victoria’s excited voice.
“Can we make them now?”
“Make what?” Grace sounded confused.
“The cookies.”
“What are you talking about?” Grace sounded annoyed.
“You told Mrs. Stanton you would take care of cookies and—”
Grace cut her off with sharp laughter.
“Oh my goodness, you thought
I
was going to make them?”
I didn’t hear anything from Victoria.
“I’m going to buy those things, have them catered.” From the tone in her voice, I knew she was shrugging.
“Oh.” Victoria sounded disappointed. “Can we still make some?” There was a hint of hope.
“I don’t cook –”
“Of course we can,” I smiled. “But first you need to change your clothes and wash your hands.” There was something… “What’s on your face?” I examined the new sunny glow to her skin.
“Oh, it’s nothing,” Grace chimed. “They were having auditions for a mother-daughter pageant, and I took Victoria,” she boasted.
I looked back to Victoria whose face was scrunched up. Grace’s heels clicked as she left the kitchen.