“Just watch.”
“Sure,” Mike said.
Edison started with scooping a medium-sized spoonful of fluffy white rice and setting it directly in the center of the plate and curved its edges until it looked like a scoop of ice-cream.
“Can I ask you one final question Edison? Man to man. No bullshit.”
“Of course,” Edison said, not taking his eyes away from his task.
Mike continued to study Edison’s face and he could see his dad gearing up to get a good read on whatever answer Edison would give him. “You and Bishop have been seeing each other for a while, right, a few months?”
“Yeah. Give or take some days.” Edison smiled shyly. He removed the lid off the steaming meat and vegetables and piled a decent portion on top of the rice.
“As you know. Bishop’s my one and only son. I wouldn’t be a good dad if I didn’t ask what your intentions are.” Mike said with all seriousness.
Bishop wanted to bang his head against the table. “Baby, you don’t have to answer that.”
“I want to answer that question,” Edison said, wiping the side of the plate with a napkin where a few drops of gravy had escaped. “That’s actually the easiest question he’s asked all night.”
“Well, let’s see if you’re gonna give me an easy answer,” Mike retorted.
Bishop didn’t say another word and his dad gave him a look that said you might want to shut up and listen to this.
Edison smirked, his eyes on the masterpiece he was designing on the plate. “I don’t know how easy or complex the answer will be, but it’ll certainly be honest.”
“Okay then.”
The room went silent while he and his dad waited for Edison to speak. He’d been bent over the counter with a tiny knife in his hand, cutting the skin of the red bell pepper into long slivers. He stood up, appearing to be lost in his own world as he started to intertwine the strings of the pepper and arrange them on top of the meat… giving it a pop of color. Then he began to do the same with the yellow one.
“I think your son is amazing, Mike. He’s the most considerate, generous… intuitive man that I’ve ever met.”
Bishop flexed his jaw to keep his mouth from falling open. Edison sounded as if he was in a trance, speaking in that smooth, calming tone that he used when he read to him. Bishop adjusted himself in his pants at Edison using those big fucking words to describe him.
“I can tell that Bishop cares for me very much. He shows it all the time. And my intentions are to care for him back. To listen to him when speaks. To comfort him when he hurts. Just like he does for me. I want to show him what it means to have a real partner. Someone who’ll stand by his side no matter what.” Edison began to weave the slivers of yellow skin around the red ones like they did on those cooking shows he loved to watch.
“I understand he’s your one and only son, Mike.” Edison smiled fondly. “He’s my one and only too. To answer your question. I intend to be faithful to him… and true. And I’m gonna feed him, every part of him that’s hungry. Because…” Edison turned and came to him with the plate of food that looked like it belonged on a magazine cover. “Because I love Bishop. I do… I love him very much. And honestly, there’s not much I wouldn’t do… ” Edison gently set the plate in front of Bishop and gazed in his eyes. “… for your son.”
Bishop caught Edison by the wrist after he released the plate. He heard his dad’s footsteps retreating down the hall, but he and Edison couldn’t take their eyes off each other. He stood, his heart beating so hard it was scaring him. He cupped Edison’s face and tenderly brought their mouths together. Bishop wanted to let his kiss speak for itself, but he knew Edison needed to hear his words. Needed him to say it out loud. He loved Edison back—he knew he did. But, fuck, he’d never been so afraid in all of his life, not even on his first day in prison. The kind of all-consuming feeling he had when he was with Edison didn’t even compare to when he was with Royce. And he knew that if he ever lost Edison—ever lost his unicorn—he wouldn’t survive it.
Edison was shaking in his arms and Bishop held him tighter. “I hope you’re not upset I said that in front of your dad… but I said I’d be honest.”
Bishop could feel the creases in his forehead, the tension in his biceps, as he tried to pull Edison almost inside him. His voice was hoarse when he finally said, “No. I’m not upset.” Bishop cupped Edison’s chin and eased his face from buried against his throat. He needed him to look at him. To see his heart spread open. Edison’s eyes were so full of kindness that Bishop felt his chest loosening enough that he could breathe. He stared intensely at the man who’d just called him his one and only. He smoothed his thumb along Edison’s lips. “You are so damn fine.”