Eva and the Bishop
by Paul Lewellan

            Bishop David Heinrichs threw the hotel key card onto the nightstand and removed his black wool overcoat as Eva Lewis wheeled in her suitcase. The young woman didn’t take off her coat. She removed a bottle of his favorite Cabernet Sauvignon from her luggage along with two glasses. They usually reserved the wine for their evening debriefing. “Eva, the Bishop is in the room.”
            “What’s that supposed to mean?”
            The edge in her tone surprised him. “We can’t pretend we’re just ‘Eva and David.’” Reverend Heinrichs presided over the Western Iowa Synod of America Lutherans. “The Bishop’s in the room.”
            “I scheduled the early flight,” Eva told him, “so we could have time together before the other delegations arrive. There won’t be another chance.”
            “I know—”
            Eva considered retreating to her room across the hall. Instead she took off her coat and kicked off her heels. She carefully removed the tailored suit jacket that flattered her Rubenesque figure.
            David hung up his suitcoat. “Even if I take off this clerical collar and enjoy a glass of wine with you, the Bishop–that is, the office I hold, and the call I serve–will still be in the room.”
            “And that sucks.”
            “Yes,” he laughed, “it does.”
            Eva met the Bishop when she served as the Youth representative on Synod Council. She’d been raised on her grandparents’ farm outside of Waverly, Iowa, after her parents divorced when she was five. Her mother taught chemistry at Wartburg College where the Bishop did his undergraduate work.
            After her term as youth representative, they remained in contact. Her senior year in high school, Eva won the Miss Iowa Dairy Princess Pageant. The Bishop encouraged her to work with church youth groups, conducting seminars on teen self-esteem.
            As a National Merit Scholar, Eva had her pick of schools but chose Winterland College, located near Synod headquarters. In her freshman year she volunteered at the office, ran errands, photocopied, and set up meeting rooms. Sometimes Eva and the Bishop stole moments between his meetings and her course work. A friendship evolved.
            The volunteer work turned into a part time job and so, for the next two years, Eva watched the Bishop agonize over his wife’s losing battle with cervical cancer. She died during finals week of Eva’s junior year.
            After graduation, Eva continued working at Synod, taking night classes instead of going on to graduate school full-time for her MBA. “I’d like to keep my options open,” she told the other staff. “I don’t want to cut myself off from the church.”
            Eva became the Bishop’s administrative assistant after Sheila Hicks took maternity leave. She would remain his assistant until August when she started seminary.
            “I need to ask the Bishop a favor.”
            David looked up from his suitcase. Her tone surprised him. “Of course.”
            “I’d like to ask him to step into the hall for a moment.” To accentuate her request, she walked over to the door and opened it.
            “I’m not sure I understand….”
            “I’d like to ask the Bishop to step out for a moment,” she repeated, holding the door open and praying that no one was in the hall.
            “But….” He knew the look on her face. She’d dug in and wasn’t going to budge.
            “It’s a simple request.”
            The Bishop set his clerical collar down on the desk. “I suppose it is.” He walked over to the open door, but as he moved to step into the hall Eva stopped him.
            “No, David, I’d like you to stay. I asked the Bishop to step outside for a moment. You stay here.” Eva spoke to the empty hallway, “Thank you, Bishop. This shouldn’t take long.” She closed the door, turned to the man beside her, and kissed him. And when he returned the kiss, even more passionately than she’d hoped, Eva unbuttoned his white shirt.
            David’s hand slipped from her shoulders, down her back. He drew her body into his. “This is bad,” he said softly.
            “Very bad,” Eva murmured. She reached for his belt.
            “I’ve wanted this for a long time.”
            “Well, duh,” she laughed as she pulled at his zipper.
            David undressed her, as the Bishop waited in the hall.


About the Author

Paul Lewellan lives and gardens in Davenport, Iowa, on the banks of the Mississippi River. He shelters in place with his wife Pamela, his Shi Tzu Mannie, and their ginger tabby Sunny. He keeps a safe social distance from everyone else. He has recently had work accepted by Statement Magazine, The Daily Drunk, Passenger, and White Wall Review.

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