Bishop: A True Lover's Story

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Edison checked his reflection in his visor mirror. He couldn’t believe he was preening, but he wanted to make sure he looked good. He’d taken an extra thirty minutes getting ready this morning in anticipation of getting some more attention from a certain landscaping boss. He maneuvered his Chevy Impala into one of the open spots in the front.

Stockley Lawn service was already hard at work, as if they had been for a while. Edison noticed pallets of colorful flowers were now lined up along the building waiting to be tucked into the earth. They were beautiful and Edison couldn’t wait for the finished results. He felt lame for having so few pleasures in life, but he didn’t dwell on that thought for long.

He got out of his car and quickly straightened his bone silk tie before sliding into his Kenneth Cole sand-colored suit jacket. It was his favorite and the one he got the most compliments on. Edison slid his messenger bag onto his shoulder, and a warm, morning smile into place before walking towards the paved walkway. Most of the men were digging trenches along the flower bed as if they were expanding it or changing the shape. Edison noticed two men along the right edge walking backward, trimming the exterior with a weed whacker. He hurried over to the other side of the sidewalk like the woman several feet ahead of him had done, making sure none of the debris flew at him.

“Hey Edison! Wait up.”

No way in heck. What the world was Skylar doing there at that time? Edison gritted his teeth when he remembered what he’d done to him in front of Bishop Friday night. He didn’t slow down, not wanting to be seen with him. Matter of fact, he was done trying to get Skylar and his clique to not see him as only their boss, but as the cool guy who should be invited to their poker nights, pool barbecues, and happy hours.

“Hey, hey.” Skylar jogged up to him. “I said hold up. Did you get my magazine?”

Edison didn’t know whether to stand there and gape or to knock Skylar in the back of his gelled head and scream at him to get a clue. He decided to do neither. “I didn’t get it. If you want a magazine then buy it yourself.”

“Oh damn. I guess someone had a boring weekend as usual,” Skylar said dryly. “Or did someone piss in your five bowls of Frosted Flakes this morning?”

Edison stopped short and spun on Skylar. “That, right there.” Edison pointed at Skylar’s open mouth. “I don’t want to hear another disrespectful comment about me or anyone else in the office. Do you understand?”

Edison’s tough demeanor fell to his feet when Skylar laughed right in his face. “You’re so fucking sensitive. Okay, sorry. No more cereal jokes.”

“No more fat jokes. Sex jokes, female jokes, homophobic jokes. Nothing,” Edison growled, feeling his face heat. “It’s rude and makes an uncomfortable work environment.”

“Rude? God, you’re such a square.” Skylar turned and kept walking, leaving Edison standing there.

Skylar was almost to the steps when a groundsman wearing heavily stained cargo pants and at least two shirts, with another wrapped around his head like they do in the desert, moved past him with a gas weed eater taking up both of his hands.

Skylar didn’t even bother trying to get away from the flying debris as bits of grass and dirt hit his expensive slacks. The groundsman kept going with his head down, focused on his task and oblivious to Skylar barking at him to stop. Edison quickened his steps when he saw the guy finally remove a set of earbuds from his ears when Skylar got in his face.

Oh no.

“Hey! You need to pay attention to what you’re doing. Look at this!” Skylar pointed at the dust on his pant legs.

“Or you need to watch where you’re going,” the guy retorted. He had on dark shades and he stood at the same height as Skylar, but while Skylar had lean, made-in-the-gym-by-a-trainer muscle, this guy’s looked all natural.

“Excuse me? You work for us.” Skylar’s voice rose loud enough to gain the attention of the trio of men standing beside a long trailer that was still being unloaded. Skylar glanced down at his dusty shoes then demanded, “Let me speak to your boss. Now.”

The guy pfft’d at Skylar then shook his head. “Your balls haven’t dropped enough to speak to my boss.”

He almost tripped as the bark of laughter left his mouth before he could stop it. Skylar looked as if he was about to have a conniption. Edison was almost to the pair when he noticed the man who’d chosen to walk over was Bishop. Even in all the get-up to protect him from the sun’s harsh rays, he knew that big, fit body from all the other men. Edison stood tall as Bishop cleared the lawn with determined strides as his worker got louder.