Bishop: A True Lover's Story

Now Bishop understood. Edison must’ve had a special relationship with his dad to think the way he did. And Bishop was glad he didn’t care about that little tidbit, however, it wasn’t what Bishop really had to tell him. It wasn’t what had his knees shaking.

“Did you learn landscape design from him? Has the student surpassed the teacher?” Edison ate the rest of his cookie. Then placed a few in front of Bishop on a paper napkin. “Okay, these are really good. You have to try them.”

Bishop didn’t reach for them. He couldn’t. “No, Edison, that’s not it. And, no my dad didn’t teach me much of anything. We didn’t have a steady relationship when I was growing up. I learned landscaping on my own when I was younger and needed to work. My dad didn’t get his business until I was…”

He must’ve been quiet too long because Edison came and stood beside him. “Until you were what?” he said in that comforting tenor.

Bishop stared into those beautiful eyes and said a small prayer for a miracle. Please let him understand, somehow. “I’ve only worked for my dad for the past six months. Because before that… before that I was in prison for the last five years.”

Edison’s open smile fell from his full lips like a MC drops the mic. He definitely didn’t laugh that confession off. Edison stood straighter, and stepped back, putting some distance between them. Bishop swallowed roughly as his stomach rolled with anguish and irritation. Fuck! He should’ve known all this was too much to ask. He glanced around Edison’s home, regardless of how well-lived in and tempting it looked, he didn’t belong in it. Already, Edison was pulling back and the rejection stung like hell. Bishop dropped his head and laughed grimly. “I thought you should know since… I guess I’ll get going.”

His dad had warned him… but he hadn’t listened.

“What were you in for?” Edison asked before Bishop could move.

Bishop raised his head. That was always the next question. “Accessory to strong armed robbery.” Edison’s reaction was muted this time, as if he was being careful. Bishop shook his head. Sometimes he still couldn’t believe how his life had turned out. Couldn’t fathom that he’d have to do this forever. If he wanted a relationship, he had to include a goddamn disclaimer first. “I know just about everyone says this shit… but I swear… I didn’t have anything to do with it. But I’d made enemies and I couldn’t roll over.”

“Roll over.”

“Snitch,” Bishop clarified. “I’m not a man of excuses. I’m not blaming anyone else for my choices. I’m just ready to move on with my life. The only reason I told you is because…”

“Because,” Edison whispered, after a long moment.

Bishop’s pulse sped up when Edison inched closer, his eyes focused on him. He told him the truth, “Because I don’t want you to think I’m that kind of man. A violent man. I didn’t strong-arm anyone, Edison.” And I’d never, ever, put a hand on you unless it’s to make you feel good.

“Thank you for telling me,” Edison said. He rubbed his hand over his jaw again, as if he did it whenever he was in deep thought or anxious.

“Do you want me to leave?” Bishop didn’t want to ask but he had to know. Had to be sure that his presence wasn’t making someone uncomfortable in their own home.

“If you do… I hope you’ll come back.” Edison didn’t hesitate. “Look, I’ve studied the criminal justice system for as long as I can remember. I have a love for the law like you do for landscaping. And there’s always been one thing that I honestly believe; that if a man commits a crime then he should be punished within the parameters of the law. And if a man serves his time then he’s paid his debt to society and should be granted a fresh start. That’s the way the system is designed. I really do appreciate your honesty and forwardness, Bishop. It’s admirable.”

Damn, it was crazy that this young-old guy spoke the way he did, and Bishop hung on his every word.

“But your past record has no bearing on this job. I would like to hire you for your expertise.” Edison paused, his lids lowering as his gaze wandered down Bishop’s face, to his throat. “Because I believe you’re the right man to give me what I’m looking for, Bishop.”

Bishop read all kinds of hidden meanings in that statement and stored it away for later. Edison was incredible, and the more Bishop got to know him the more he realized how much he liked him. Bishop had known hood life, struggles, and poverty for as long as he could remember. He’d surrounded himself with guys who were out to get theirs and didn’t care what necks and backs they stepped on to get it and called them family. He’d been young and stupid and had realized it too late. Now, either he could wallow in his predicament or he could change it.