Live-In Position (2 page)

“He’s never around? Like never?”

Miranda had told me about Victoria’s mother not being around, having left her at a young age. I assumed Dr. Bishop would try to compensate.

“Umm…not really, and I’m really not supposed to discuss anything with outside people. You’ll understand once you go through the contract, get here and experience the routine Victoria keeps.”

“Okay,” I sighed. “Once I get the contract, I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks, Sophia.”

The agreement outlined the terms of payment – a monthly salary of three thousand dollars, much higher than I’d ever been paid in the past – as well as the terms that would be renewable annually.

“Hey, did you get it?” Miranda answered excitedly.

“Yeah, but Rand, I don’t need a car,” I blurted.

“Sophia, just take the offer. Don’t tell him you don’t want anything. Just take it, please. It will be easier,” she pleaded.

“I have a car,” I protested.

“No, you have an ancient Jeep Wrangler that he’s not going to allow Victoria to travel in,” she countered.

“Okay, but providing my food?”

“You’re going to cook it.”

“What other items could be necessary?” I asked quickly.

“Umm...not too many, but sometimes the family goes on vacation and you’ll be asked, which means required, to go with them. They’ll pay for travel costs and that sort of thing. Your typical duties and responsibilities will be the same, though some adjustments may be made since it’s a vacation.”

I sighed. I guess it was better to get more than less.

“I’ll see you in a week.”

C
hapter
T
wo

MIRANDA HAD FORGONE her Sunday evening off so she could help me get situated in the Bishop home. Most of her things had been moved into her fiancé, Benji's, place.

“This is going to be great, Sophia, I promise.” She beamed at me as we lugged my boxes to the bedroom. “Just wait till you see the nanny suite.”

“The nanny suite?” I asked.

She pushed the door open. I put down a box in a decent sized room with a couch, a chair, and a television. There was even a small kitchenette.

“Follow me,” Miranda motioned to the next doorway with a tilt of her head. Inside that door was a large bedroom, with a four-post bed.

“I asked Mrs. Baker to help me clean the suite and put new sheets on and everything for you.” She set a box on the floor next to the suitcase.

“Geesh, Rand, this place is huge.” I circled, taking the room in.

“Welcome home,” she laughed. “I know you expected just a bedroom, but you get the living room, this bedroom with a balcony,” she moved to a set of French doors and pushed them open “as well as a large bathroom.” She motioned toward a door behind me.

I hesitantly made my way to the door, turned the knob slowly, and pushed it open.

“The light switch is on the left just inside the door,” Rand called out.

My hand quickly found the switch and illuminated the room with bright light. My mouth dropped open. The gleam of the bathroom light off of the large jet tub looked like a halo.
Am I drooling?
The glass shower beckoned my attention with the tantalizing center ceiling shower-head.
Sigh.

With a bathroom like this, I may be able to handle daily life with the Antichrist. Wait, am I selling my soul for a bathroom? I glanced around the large white and lavender tiled room, once more. Yes, I think I am.

“Holy crap, Miranda. You’ve been living it up for the past three years.”

“I know, right!” she giggled. “I think the one thing I hate to leave, next to Victoria, is that shower,” she sighed. “Maybe Benji will install one for me.”

“I’m sure if you promise to let him watch you shower, you can have whatever you want.” I wiggled my eyebrows at her.

She shrugged. “Probably. He’s a perv.”

After thirty-five minutes of carrying boxes, we began to unpack.

“So…how’re you holding up?”

Rand looked at me curiously.

“I mean you’ve been with Victoria since she was three, right?”

She nodded. “It’ll be hard, but I’ve already found another family that needs help with a little girl on a part-time, non-live-in basis.”

“Hey, you can always call us, and we can visit with you.” I tried to sound reassuring.

“Oh, I doubt it.” Miranda shook her head.

“Huh? Why?” I stopped unpacking.

“Sophia, Victoria’s schedule is intense, especially for a six year old.”

I furrowed my brow.
How bad could a six-year-old’s schedule really be?

“Follow me.” She walked from the closet out to the living room.

“Have a seat.” She motioned to the couch. “I was going to wait, but I might as well get started.” She sighed and sat next to me with a binder in her hands. “I put this together to help you out.”

Taking the binder into my lap, the weight of it pressed against my thighs.

“What’s all of this?”

“Consider it a reference guide.” She pulled it open to the first page. “This is Victoria’s weekly schedule.” I looked it over.

“Are you serious? She has this kind of schedule?” Without taking my widened eyes from the daunting list, I shook my head.

“Contact numbers for each activity and directions for horseback riding and ballet – everything else is here in the house.” Miranda pointed out each place on the next page.

“This is a lot for a six-year old. When does she get to be a kid?”

She shrugged. “This is how it is for upper class kids.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s crazy.”

“I’ll say. Geesh. So, Saturday, what exactly does he consider educational and physical activities?”

“Well, last weekend we went to the museum and to the zoo. I try to make things fun, but I also know Dr. Bishop wants a strict educational regimen.”

“Why?” I studied her face for a reason. “Why is he so strict with her? She’s only six.”

She shrugged.

“I can’t say for sure, but it has something to do with her mother. I told you Victoria’s mother left them unexpectedly–that’s when I was hired on, remember?”

“Yeah, but what does that have to do with—”

“I can only assume it’s to keep her busy. Victoria doesn’t really remember her, and Dr. Bishop doesn’t speak of her, at all.” Then she eyed me sternly. “And trust me. You don’t want to ask about her.”

I nodded with a shrug. It wasn’t my place to pry into his personal life.

Three hours later we finished, and Benji called with an offer to take us to dinner. Miranda and I piled into her car. Benji brought a co-worker with him.

“Sophia, it’s good to see you!” Benji pulled me into a large hug.

“It’s good to see you too.”

“This is my friend Lucas Gray. We work together. Lucas, this is Miranda’s friend I was telling you about, Sophia Ashwood.”

Lucas extended his hand, and I took it. His handshake was a little limp, especially compared to Dr. Bishop’s vice-like grip. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“I figured it would be good for you to meet some other people in Seattle, besides just Miranda and me,” Benji warmly explained.

The night was filled with good, easy going conversation, and Lucas was actually pretty nice. We exchanged numbers to keep in touch before I had to pry Miranda from Benji’s face so we could head back to the house.

Once Victoria was showered and tucked into bed, Miranda and I shared the large bed…until the alarm screamed us awake at five in the morning. Groaning in unison, we rolled out of bed.

Victoria’s room was just two doors down from the nanny suite, but first Miranda went downstairs and got Victoria’s things together for school and lunch. Before starting breakfast, she headed back upstairs to get Victoria ready.

“Come on, Victoria, it’s time to get up.” Miranda nudged her slightly.

Victoria moaned and covered her head. I had to stifle the humor I found in it.

“Come on, girl. You want to make a good first impression on Sophia, don’t you?”

Victoria’s head popped up from under her pillow, her curls full of frizz. She sat up in the middle of her bed and looked at me.

“Hi,” she smiled, but there was something lingering behind her upturned lips.

“Good morning,” I sat on the bed next to her. Miranda pulled out a school uniform and placed it on her bed.

“You need to go get cleaned up and into your uniform, missy.” Rand helped her off the bed.

Victoria hurried into her bathroom. I could hear the water and the sound of teeth being brushed. I looked around her room and took in the wall of dolls on shelves, the large white desk with a white bookcase next to it, and the large entertainment system. Miranda wasn’t joking when she said there was a lot of ‘stuff.’

Victoria emerged from the bathroom with a hairbrush and a spray bottle, and Miranda cringed.

“Here comes the hard part,” she groaned in a hushed voice. Miranda reached for the brush and bottle as Victoria turned around.

After spraying her head thoroughly, Miranda brushed through her hair and Victoria’s face crinkled in pain. I saw tears form in her eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Victoria,” Miranda said with a sad look on her face.

“Oh heck,” I stood and grabbed the brush. I brushed through the tops of her hair where it wasn’t so bad and finger combed the rest of her hair easily. “You got any rubber bands or ties?” I asked without looking at Miranda and started braiding.

“Here,” I could hear the relief in Miranda’s voice.

Once we were finished, Victoria got her pajamas off and started to slip on her uniform.

“Good job. It doesn’t look like she has one knot in her head,” Miranda breathed out in relief.

“My mother had issues with my crazy thick hair when I was younger. We’ll condition her hair with detangle lotion tonight and then brush it all out.” I shrugged.

“What about tomorrow morning?” Miranda smirked.

“We’ll braid her hair before bed. Tomorrow it will be easier to brush when we take the braids out.” I winked at her. “Another mom trick.” I smiled and put the brush on Victoria’s dresser.

Once Victoria was dressed, we made our way downstairs where Miranda fixed breakfast before we climbed into the car for the drive to school.

“This is a Lexus,” I choked.

“The SUV,” Miranda nodded with a slight shrug.

“This is the car he provides?”

“Mm-hmm,” she answered and pulled out of the driveway.

“I’m terrified I’ll wreck it,” I sighed, and Miranda just laughed.

It wasn’t a long drive to St. John’s Prep School. Black four door SUVs all lined up to the curb. Children in the same standard issue blue and green plaid uniforms slipped out from backseats. It was very reminiscent of a second-rate horror flick involving pod children I’d watched on the Sci-Fi channel once. I shuddered. Climbing from the car, I watched Victoria scurry into the school with some of her classmates.

There were young women helping young kids out of the cars and into the school. I assumed they were all nannies. I shook my head at the thought of all of these children being raised by non-blood related persons, instead of their biological parents. However, there was one pregnant woman with a wedding band that was too “Jersey Housewife” to be a nanny. After a quick introduction, I learned that at least one mother interacted in the daily life of her child. She was also a friend to the Bishop family. Mrs. Wright assured me I would get to know her nanny eventually.

We headed back to the house, and Miranda ran me through things I needed to do during the day. I would have a few hours in the afternoon to myself – writing would definitely be possible with this free time.

The rest of the week went about in the same fashion, with a few minor changes. I took the time to get familiar with my new surroundings.

Miranda introduced me to Mrs. Baker, the housekeeper. She didn’t live in the house but arrived every morning and left just before dinner most days.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I put my hand out after our introduction.

“And a pleasure to meet you as well. If you need anything, you just let me know.” She welcomed me warmly and then devoted her attention to Rand. “I’m going to miss you, sweetheart.” She pulled Rand into a large hug.

“I promise to call and visit as much as I can.” Rand crossed her heart.

“You better.” Mrs. Baker patted her back and released her.

We left Mrs. Baker downstairs and spent a couple of hours going over items in the binder. Then we left to pick up Victoria together for the last time. I had one question, which had been eating away at me during the week.

“Rand, why haven’t we seen Dr. Bishop at all this week? Wouldn’t he want to check in on –”

“When I said he won’t be much of a bother, I meant it. There really isn’t any interaction on his part. He works insane hours and travels a lot. Your main form of communication is the slot I showed you on his study door or the cell phone,” she sighed. “It’s sad, I know, but just think, you’ll be able to handle things without his interruptions.”