Live-In Position (64 page)

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Authors: V.S. Tice

BOOK: Live-In Position
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Again, an overwhelming sense encompassed me. Collin recognized the change in me.

“Come, you can worry about all of this after the weekend.” He took my hand and led us to the kitchen. His goal had become to keep me eating as much as possible.

The weekend passed by with a long movie night and some baking with Victoria. She told me all about the week I missed, as well as her time with Pawpaw and Carla. Listening to her talk had been almost meditative. When Monday came, I was not looking forward to an afternoon sorting through gifts. With a deep breath, I climbed out of my car and went into the house. Larissa wouldn’t be arriving for a few more hours so I decided to get some juice and a bagel before checking my emails. A ring of the doorbell surprised me.

I answered the front door with a cream cheese-slathered bagel in my hand and found Ilene’s perky smile waiting for me. I did my best to smile in return and pulled the door open all the way.

“Ilene?”

“Oh, it is so nice to see you.” She pushed into the house and removed her coat. Wow, she actually hung it up herself. I was a little impressed. “Was it lovely in Hawaii? I bet it was.”

“Yes, it was really nice. Um, what are you…?” She brushed past me and began walking around all of the unopened gifts. Another body appeared behind me. I was a little startled.

“I came to help you with all of this.” She flit her hand around as she spoke without looking at me. “James, I need you to move these into the living room, over there.” Apparently Ilene had hired someone to help out.

“Uh, actually, Larissa will be coming over in a couple of hours to help.” I took a large bite of bagel and watched James carry a couple of boxes into the other room.

“Yes, I spoke to her this morning.” She finally looked back at me. “I was planning on going shopping, but this will be so much more fun. Plus, I brought the muscle to help carry the stuff.”

Yeah, big fun.

Only an hour later, Larissa showed up. She gave an apologetic smile over Ilene’s shoulder when they embraced in greeting. I smiled back, knowing there was no stopping Ilene at this point.

In the living room, I sat on the couch with Larissa and Ilene on either side of me. I opened gifts, Ilene critiqued, and Larissa wrote down names and gifts given. There were silver serving trays, crystal bowls and vases, sculptures, and plenty of other things. I seriously didn’t know what to do with most of the items we received.

“What am I supposed to do with two silver tea sets?” I giggled.

“Victoria can have one to play with,” Larissa snorted.

“These are not toys,” Ilene gasped. I laughed harder.

Three hours. It took three long hours to get through all the boxes. I was so happy to be done with it, but Ilene soon killed my joy

“You haven’t gone through any of these yet?” she asked with a shake of her head.

She dropped a pile of envelopes in front of me. I began fingering the different colored and textured envelopes. Many of them were cards of congratulations from some of Collin’s colleagues, but they also included invitations—charity lunches, galas, PTA groups, social clubs, and teas and brunches galore.

“Oh these are long time friends of our family. Put them in the confirm pile.” Ilene handed Larissa the cream-colored cardstock. “You will have to let Collin know about some of the dinners and events to make sure he’s available before you confirm.” She patted my leg.

“Uh, yeah, okay.” Not knowing what else to say, I sat there while Ilene and Larissa sorted through the invitations. When they would disagree, they would both turn to me for my opinion, but all I could do was shrug. The magnitude of all of these pending commitments was almost too much to process.

After about a week at home, life felt almost back to normal. The main excitement now included the frequent phone calls from the marketing director at the publishing house who was arranging my book tour. Planning the tour wasn’t as easy as I had originally thought. Obviously I would revisit New York and Strand, but there were new ideas about inviting some daycares and young school children to public libraries for promotion. Since the public library had been a favorite place of mine as a kid, I was quick to agree to the idea. Not only would it promote my book, but it would also support local libraries. At least I hoped it would.

Of course, Collin wasn’t thrilled about the travel. He claimed he was worried about me traveling while pregnant. His determination to go with me as much as he could was the only thing keeping a disagreement from arising.

I was sitting at the breakfast bar in the kitchen looking over the black leather date book Larissa helped me pick out. With all of the commitments and tour dates, I had to start writing everything down. I had already missed a brunch because I had messed up the date. I totally used the pregnancy as my excuse but felt guilty about it later.

“What’s that?” Collin kissed the side of my head, nodding toward the open book.

“My date book,” I sighed and closed it up. He raised one curious brow at me. I shrugged. “With all of this stuff going on,” I yawned out, “excuse me. I have to keep track of it somehow.”

“What stuff?” He pulled the book toward him and sat next to me.

“Doctor appointments, Victoria’s schedule, social obligations,” sarcasm laced that one, “and, you know, the book tour, finding time to write, regular daily stuff—”

“Sophia, you need some help.”

“What?” I wrinkled up my face and pulled the book away from him. “I’m fine.”

“You are going to exhaust yourself,” he countered. “You already drag yourself to bed at night like a zombie. What happens once the baby is here? Do you think it will get better?”

“I can handle it.” I stood and walked toward the fridge.

“You need someone to help you with things, like Victoria’s day and—”

“I do not need someone to help me with Victoria.” The loud smack of the thawed chicken breast on the counter seemed to punctuate my words.

“Listen to me. Do you think I set my own schedule, travel arrangements, speeches?” I gave a reluctant shrug. “No, I don’t,” he continued. “I have an assistant who handles my calendar and other logistical aspects of my job.”

His words made sense, but it made me feel like I was putting Victoria second.

“Honestly, I can handle—”

“Do you want to get sick? Do you want to not have any time to do the things you love, like writing, cooking with Victoria, taking our children to the playground?” His hand splayed across my stomach.

“No, I don’t want that,” I grumbled and removed the plastic from the chicken.

“Just think about it, okay? You don’t have to do it right away, but I would like for you to be less stressed sooner than later.” He kissed the side of my head.

“Okay,” I huffed.

Did I really need to hire someone? Was Ilene correct when she told me I would need a cook, a nanny, and other house staff? I understood what Collin was saying and agreed that having someone to help with Victoria and the book tour would be very helpful, but a part of me was concerned the person would replace me in Victoria’s life. And would Collin find himself interested in a new nanny?

Irritated with my own thoughts, I shook them off and started working on dinner. The poor chicken took a beating during my prep work.

The following day, I found myself running around trying to make up the time I lost sleeping in late. Apparently I hit the “off” button instead of “snooze.” Apparently, my body wanted more sleep. By the time I got out of bed, Victoria didn’t want to get up and moving. I practically had to dress her and feed her like a baby. When it was time to put on shoes and coats, she was dawdling, putting my already raw nerves further on edge.

“Damn it, Victoria, come on and get your ass moving,” I snapped.

My eyes grew as wide as hers. I had never talked to her that way. I knew the pregnancy had me anxious, but I couldn’t blame the hormones completely. Truth was, I was exhausted. I knelt to the floor and hugged her tightly.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” A single tear trailed over my cheek.

“It’s okay, Mommy.” She hugged me tighter.

“No, it’s not.” I pulled back and looked into her face. “I should never talk to you that way. I swear it won’t happen again. Okay?” She nodded. I hugged her one more time before we left.

As soon as I was back in the house, I rushed upstairs and got dressed for one of those damn brunches I committed myself to attend. The wife of one of Collin’s research colleagues was holding this one. Slipping into a plum wrap dress and a pair of black ballet flats, I pulled my hair back in a twist and pinned it up.

Walking into the restaurant, I was assaulted by a multitude of unfamiliar women with mimosas in their hands. Congratulations were spoken in regards to the wedding and the baby. As soon as I sat down, I was pelted with questions about “how I landed Collin.” “Did he hire you for extracurricular activities?” was my personal favorite. I tried to be as civil as possible, all the while praying the restaurant fire alarm would go off so I could escape.

Halfway through the brunch I realized this was nothing but a gossip get-together. So-and-so’s husband was sleeping with his secretary, another’s daughter was pregnant to a professor, and so on. They droned on and on to the point I considered excusing myself, but the conversation finally changed. Soon I was being thrown invitations to parties and shopping trips. I nodded politely, hoping it didn’t come across as an acceptance but more of an “I’ll think about it.”

“Will you back off?” The familiar screech shut the women up.

“Well, if it isn’t Allison Bedford. Oh wait, you’ve gone back to Bishop now, right?” A dark-haired, over-tanned, made-up woman sneered at Allison.

“Yes, I have. Why would I keep such a filthy last name?”

“Why didn’t you go with your mother’s last name?” The same woman spoke with a glint of evil in her eye. She turned to me. “She was a nanny too, wasn’t she?” Her eyes batted innocently.

Oh, this bitch wants me to kick her ass. I will make her choke on that French manicure.

“Yes, just like the one your first husband left you for and the one that your current husband is screwing.” Allison tossed the words back at her while grabbing my arm and gently pulling me up from my seat.

As we walked toward the exit, a hand fell on my arm. I turned. There stood the hostess of the brunch with sincere embarrassment on her face.

“Sophia, I’m so sorry. Vinita has had one too many mimosas and—”

“And one too many lifts to her face,” Allison snorted from behind me. The hostess fought laughing.

“It’s okay, I understand. Thank you for brunch. It was, well, it was entertaining.”

With a warm smile and goodbye, I left the group of women. Once outside Allison turned to me.

“You don’t have to do that, you know?”

“Do what?”

“Go to all of these things.” She waved toward the restaurant. “I’m sure my mother has you believing you do, but honestly very few of them matter. Some are worthwhile, like the charity events, but these little brunches are just ridiculous.” She shook her head and began to walk away. “Oh,” she looked back at me, “and don’t let her convince you that you have to host something either, unless you really want to, okay?” I nodded and she walked to her car.

Climbing into mine, I sighed out my frustration.
Collin may be right. I need help.

That evening I was declining Ilene’s idea of hosting a dinner party at our house when Collin got home from work. As soon as I hung up, I groaned.

“That bad?” he asked.

“You have no idea.” I stood from the kitchen stool and kissed him properly. This ended with me being lifted onto the counter top and him pressing his body between my legs.

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