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“What’s this?” he asked in his chilled tone.

“We’re making Christmas cookies!” Victoria said cheerfully. Her tongue stuck out over her lip as she pressed the tree cutter into the dough Mrs. Baker had rolled out to the perfect thickness.

“Oh, Collin, my boy, you should see her. She’s quite the little cookie cutter professional,” Mrs. Baker chuckled and watched Victoria.

“Yes,” he said coolly and walked around the table. Standing only two feet away from me, he focused his glacier eyes onto me. “What about her Spanish lesson? Or have you taken it upon yourself to change that as well?”

My mouth gaped open for a moment. Then, I closed it and straightened myself up.

“Roberto is in Spain until the New Year.
He
cancelled the lessons until his return. I put the note about the change into the mail slot on your office door.” My tone bordered on angry. I needed to calm myself. Right at that moment, the oven timer alerted me the cookies were done.

Saved by the bell!

“What educational value does making cookies hold?” he quipped.

Taking the cookies out of the oven, I slid the hot cookie tray onto the top of the stove a little roughly. Taking a deep breath I faced him.

“Fractions.” I narrowed my eyes.

“Fractions?” I swear he almost rolled his eyes.

“Yes, fractions and measurements.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Plus she’s practicing reading when she reads from the recipe book.” I raised a brow at him actually hoping he would continue to battle this one out with me.

Both Victoria and Mrs. Baker had grown very quiet and still, their eyes flicking back and forth between Dr. Bishop and myself as we engaged in our standoff. For one moment, he seemed flustered, but he pulled himself together and grumbled as he walked out of the kitchen. I sighed in frustration and went back to Victoria and Mrs. Baker.

“You alright, dear?” Mrs. Baker lightly rubbed my arm.

“Yes,” I breathed out. “I just don’t get why he is so…Argh!”

After taking a deep breath I looked to Victoria. “Hey, why don’t you go upstairs and get washed up. I’ll clean up the mess down here, okay?”

She nodded and ran off.

Sitting down, I faced Mrs. Baker. “Please help me understand him before I douse him in Holy Water.”

She burst into laughter. “Dear, I wish I could help you, but I’m afraid I don’t completely understand him myself. Just know he wasn’t always this way. It has a lot to do with Victoria’s mother,” she sighed and patted my hand. “She left him. Just up and left him and Victoria. Now, I don’t know the whole story, I just know it crushed him.”

“But why take that out on Victoria?” I begged to understand.

“Honey, when you look at Victoria, do you see Collin?” She raised an eyebrow at me.

“I-I don’t know…what are you saying?”

She pressed her lips together tightly before speaking. “She looks just like her mother. When he sees her, he sees the woman that walked away from them.”

“That’s not Victoria’s fault. She’s his daughter. He doesn’t have to be so detached and calculating with her.”

“You and I know that, but he can’t seem to be any other way.” She scooted her chair back and stood. “Come with me.”

Mrs. Baker led me to a closet in the dining room. She took out a key and unlocked the door. What I thought was a china closet was more like a mortuary or shrine of clothing. Women’s clothing hung on racks. Shoeboxes were stacked beneath them. Beneath the shoeboxes were trunks stacked upon each other.

“This is supposed to be for holding dinnerware and silver, but instead this is where he keeps all of her things.” Mrs. Baker reached into a drawer and pulled out a picture, holding it out for me to see.

The picture contained a smiling Dr. Bishop. He looked much younger. In his arms was a slender, beautiful woman. Victoria was her clone. Everything from the red curly hair, round face, and the fair porcelain skin was her mother’s.

“That’s Grace, Victoria’s mother.” I nodded in understanding. “They fell in love when he was in medical school. Victoria was definitely a surprise to both of them, but they decided to keep her. They were going to marry around Victoria’s second birthday, but Grace left. She just disappeared one day. I don’t know what happened, but he was very different after that.”

I handed her back the picture. We headed back to the kitchen and started cleaning up the cookies.

“Why does he keep all of her things? Shouldn’t he give some things to Victoria and get rid of the rest, or does he think she is coming back?”

Mrs. Baker sighed. “Honestly, I think he hopes she will come back to him.”

We finished cleaning in silence, but my mind whirled with new information.

Dr. Bishop holding onto a woman, his past, seems so out of character for the man I know. To live longing for someone who deserted you and your child, how does someone go on or move forward?

Still lost in thoughts of pity and sadness, I climbed the stairs. My foot slipped from the final step, and I reached for the banister as my body lost the battle with gravity. Suddenly two arms were wrapped around my waist, catching me before I hit the floor. Pulling me into a standing position, I blinked a couple of times before focusing on Dr. Bishop staring back at me.

“Th-thank you,” I stuttered, still a little shaken.

He didn’t say anything, only stared into my eyes. His arms still around my waist, an odd sense of comfort fell over me. Not allowing the feeling to linger, I pushed away from him. Dr. Bishop seemed to snap out of a trance.

“I apologize.” He stepped back with clenched fists before heading toward his room.

That night my dreams were filled with warm strong arms embracing me, comfort and heat raging through me from the man with the emerald eyes. In the morning, I would blame the raw cookie dough I consumed the prior evening.

C
hapter
S
ix

CHRISTMAS WAS RAPIDLY approaching, and things started to get a little hectic. Victoria may not have had Spanish, but her piano instructor decided to take the hour on those Fridays to prepare her for the recital he put on each holiday season. In addition to everything else, there was the school holiday party and play.

The school play was the Nutcracker. Victoria had a part as a snowflake. The school had sent a flyer home with the date and time of the play. I put it in Dr. Bishop’s mailbox along with the information about the piano recital, hoping he would attend.

I signed up to help Victoria’s teacher with the holiday party and was asked to bring fifty cupcakes. The night before the party, after Victoria was tucked into her bed, I began baking cupcakes, waiting for them to cool, and then squeezing icing onto them. Making, baking, and decorating cupcakes become more difficult when there are so many. The heat from the oven mixed with moving around the kitchen finally caught up to me. I tossed my sweater on a chair and felt far more comfortable in my super baggy jeans and white tank top. My socks had already been tossed on the floor in hopes that the cool tile floor would relieve the heat. I had my ear buds in and was moving a little to the music while squeezing icing onto the most recently cooled batch when something in my peripheral vision scared me.

I squealed and clenched my fist around the icing tube. A huge glob of green dropped onto the countertop. One hand on my chest and my eyes shut tightly, I tried to calm myself. Finally opening my eyes, I could see his lips moving, but the only thing coming out of his mouth was Bob Marley.

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear you.” I held up the ear buds. “I didn’t realize you were there.” I forced a smile and started scraping the icing off of the countertop.

I didn’t have to look to know he was still in the room. The mixture of chill and pull buzzed between us. The fidgeting began, but I stopped myself. It bothered me that he could invoke such reaction from me. I took a deep breath and looked toward the source of my irritation. His eyes were as intense as always. The green orbs were not the familiar hard emeralds but instead were swirling pools of lime distracting me from my irritation.

“Was there something you needed Dr. Bishop or did you just want to help decorate some cupcakes?” I attempted to lighten the intensity surrounding us.

His eyes shifted from my face down my body and then back up to my face. The hard emeralds returned.

“Could you please try to keep your clothes on when you are walking around the shared areas of the house?”

My mouth gaped open for a moment and then I snapped it shut. He gestured to my sweater and socks hanging on the chair. I looked down at myself. Anger boiled up from pit of my stomach.

“I am clothed, Dr. Bishop.” I returned my focus to the cupcakes and tried not to take my anger out on the icing tubes. What I really wanted to do was get a Bible and beat the Antichrist with it.

“I do not wish for you to roam around my home barely clothed.”

I slammed the tube down on the counter and spun around. Gasping, I backed against the counter, realizing how close he’d gotten. Less than three feet away, his eyes were again swirling limes. I swallowed hard, fought the welcoming seduction of his eyes, and found my resolve.

“I got overheated with the oven being on for so long. I don’t roam your home half dressed.” Quickly, I went back to the cupcakes before I lost the little resistance I had found. I could’ve sworn he stepped closer. Close enough for me to feel the heat from his body and his breath against the back of my right shoulder. I didn’t dare look back. Then it was gone – the heat, the breath, and the buzzing tension. I finally released a breath in reprieve of his departure, using the cupcakes to distract me from over-thinking whatever had just occurred.

After the party, I didn’t hesitate in my next suggestion, having been thoroughly disappointed in the Santa Claus the school had hired.

“So, what do you say we go see the real Santa Claus? I thought it would be a nice way to start your winter break.”

Her head snapped toward me.

“The real one?” she contemplated. “That wasn’t the real –”

“Heck, no, that was just a helper,” I smiled broadly.

We drove to the department store in the mall. Once we parked, I helped her out of the car and we maneuvered through hundreds of shoppers to get in line.

“He’s the real Santa?” Victoria looked up at him in awe.

“Yep, he only makes it out on one special day and today’s it. That’s why we had to hurry to get here.” She turned back around, practically bouncing with excitement.

When the elf approached Victoria, she got really shy and didn’t want to go with her. I grabbed her hand and we walked to Santa together. She hesitated to sit on his lap so I decided to show her how it was done.

“See, Victoria, this is how you do it,” I sat down on Santa’s knee, and then gestured for Victoria to come over.

She walked slowly but eventually climbed up on his other knee and whispered what she wanted for Christmas in his ear so I couldn’t hear. A picture was taken of us sitting on Santa’s lap.

“Your turn,” she smiled.

“My turn?” I raised my eyebrow.

“Tell Santa what you want for Christmas.” She said it like I was stupid.

“Oh…well…” I glanced at a chuckling Santa. “I want Victoria to get what she asked for.”

Since I hadn’t heard a word from Dr. Bishop about Victoria’s holiday musical recital, I figured he wasn’t available, didn’t want to come, or would show up unexpectedly if he so desired. In my opinion he was an ass so I could care less either way. At least that’s what I said, though thoughts of him still nagged at the back of my mind.

We picked out a red velvet dress and a white long sleeve button-up shirt with ruffles around the cuffs and collar for Victoria to wear. She had on white leggings and black Mary Jane’s. She looked positively adorable with her hair curled to perfect ringlets and a large black bow pinned to the side of her head.

Victoria had to be there an hour before the recital began so we left at five-thirty. During the car ride, I could see her nerves starting to work on her. Once we arrived back stage, she clung tightly to me as the anxiety wreaked havoc on her tummy. I massaged small circles on her back and tried to calm her by telling jokes, but she just kept looking at me with widened eyes and a pale face.

“It will be fine. You’re great, and you’ll show them how talented you are,” I encouraged.

“I can’t do it,” she said in a strangled voice, shaking her head. “I can’t go out there in front of all of those people.”

“Don’t be silly, Victoria, you can do it. You’re a Bishop.” Both of our heads snapped toward Allison heading toward us with quick steps. She knelt down next to Victoria. “You hold that head up high and go out there, okay?”

Victoria’s fear filled her eyes with unshed tears.

“There will be no crying. You will get out there and show them just how wonderful you are.” Allison smiled, but her tone was demanding.

“Hey, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” I pulled Victoria to stand in front of me so I could get her full attention. I heard Allison gasp, but I didn’t care. “But – you can do this. You have all of this courage buried inside of you. Just let it out.” I tapped her nose with my finger.

Victoria’s nerves were starting to ease slightly, but not enough. The person acting as stage manager came over and told her she was up next. Instantly, tears returned to her eyes. She was panicking.

Allison straightened to her full height – not that there was much height to her.

“Victoria you will go out there and do this. Everyone is waiting on you. We all came to see you play. Now, you don’t want to disappoint your family, do you? Grandma and Grandpa, Uncle Jonathan, Aunt Larissa and Uncle Max came just to see you perform.

Victoria bit her lip to keep from crying.

“Are you insane?” I stood to my full height over her.

Shock painted Allison’s face but was quickly replaced with an angry glare.

“Don’t guilt her. She’s just a child.”

“Who do you think you are?” Allison started to yell, but when the stage manager shushed her she dropped to a lower, yet still pissed tone. “You’re not her mother so don’t tell me how to talk to my niece.”

“I may not be her mother, but I’m with her more than you are. I take care of her and care that you are laying guilt on a seven-year-old child because of who your family is. It’s ridiculous!”

Pulling myself together, I focused back on Victoria. Instantly my face softened. “What do you want to do?”

“She’s going to perform. That’s what she is going to do.” Allison grabbed Victoria’s arm and walked her toward the stage. “Are you ready? This is so exciting.”

“I can’t go out there!” Victoria cried.

Allison halted her steps and looked down to Victoria with a sad expression.

“Don’t cry, baby, please. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.” Allison was visibly upset with herself, but I was still too angry.

“Victoria,” the stage manager announced her name, “you’re up.”

I moved to her side and knelt in front of her, bringing us eye-to-eye.

“What do you want to do?”

“I don’t want to disappoint –”

“Forget everyone else. What do you want? Do you want to do this? Because if you do then….well, then we’ll do it together.”

Her face lit up. “Together?”

And when her instructor announced her name, we walked out on stage hand-in-hand.

“Miss…” the stage manager hissed. I ignored him.

Straightening out my plum-colored wrap dress, I sat on the bench next to Victoria. She looked up at me, the lines of anxiety erased from her face. In the small glance we shared, nothing else mattered. I could care less if hundreds of people thought I was crazy or if Dr. Bishop would fire me for embarrassing him and his family. All that truly mattered was Victoria played, and she was phenomenal.

Once her piece was complete, she stepped to the edge of the stage and bowed before the crowd. I clapped from the bench. She turned from the roar of applause, walked back to me, took my hand and guided us off stage. The minute we were through the curtain, I picked her up and swung her around.

“I told you! You were amazing! You did so well!”

“Thank you, Sophia.” She hugged my legs after I set her down.

“What are you thanking me for? You were awesome!”

“You came with me.” Victoria looked up at me with adoring eyes, her arms still around my legs.

“That was nothing.” I waved her off. “But…you’re going to have to let go so I can walk.”

Leaving the backstage area, hands entwined, we walked toward the waiting room for the performers who had finished. After another hour, all the performers were pulled back on stage for one last bow before they headed to meet their families. I grabbed Victoria’s hand and walked her down the side stairs and into the mass of people.

“Oh, dearest, you were so fantastic!” Mrs. Bishop walked quickly toward Victoria. She stopped in front of her and patted her head. “Wonderful, darling, just wonderful. Don’t you think so Connor?”

Looking past Mrs. Bishop, there stood an older, yet extremely handsome, white-haired gentleman.

“Yes, yes, she was amazing! Come give grandpa a hug.” He knelt down and Victoria hurried to wrap her arms around his neck.

“Connor, please. You are making a scene. Put the girl down,” Mrs. Bishop snapped. That right there shed some light on the coldness in the house I now lived in. It’s not every day you can say you’ve met the mother of the
Antichrist.

“Come, Victoria, we are taking you out to dinner.” Allison grabbed Victoria’s hand and then looked over her shoulder to glare at me. It took all the muscle I had to resist sticking out my tongue.

Did Satan have a sister? Allison, Lilith, close enough.

“What about Sophia?” Victoria dug her heals into the floor.

“What about her? Now come on,” Allison insisted.

Victoria released Allison’s hand and ran up to me.

“Are you coming with us?”

“Oh, Victoria, thank you, but this is for family, okay?” I rubbed her cheek. “I’ll see –”