Chapter 16
Mr. Bishop still lived in the same house that Quentin had grown up in.
I knew him in passing. He was Q’s father, and Sweet Jackson was a small town.
But we’d never been formally introduced.
He was a large man, just like his son—tall and muscular.
He looked intimidating. He looked like he was mean.
But as soon as you engaged with him, you realized that he was a jovial jokester.
“Say Pops, this is my lady, Eastley.” Quentin did the introductions as soon as his father appeared at the front door.
Mr. Bishop smiled, showing me the same dimples that I admired so much on his son. He stuck out his hand, and I shook it. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I know your brother well. And I’m sure you know that I went through the Sweet Jackson school system with Kevin and Dana.”
Kevin and Dana were my parents.
“But I’m honored to finally formally meet the young lady that makes my son light up like a Christmas tree,” he continued.
I blushed wildly. “It’s nice to finally meet you too, Mr. Bishop.”
“Dana was always one of the prettiest girls in school”—he lowered his voice—“behind Quentin’s mama, of course.”
That caused me to grin. “Of course.”
“And the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.” He continued.
“Thank you.” I just knew my cheeks had to be bright red.
Quentin screwed up his face. “You flirtin’ with my lady, old man?”
Before Mr. Bishop could respond, a loud, feminine voice blasted from inside the house. “Quincy! Don’t forget you got this food on the smoker!”
He looked up at the sky in annoyance, then brought his gaze back down to us. “Let’s go on the deck before this woman alerts all my neighbors that I’m out there smokin’ meat.”
On the back deck, Quentin introduced me to his dad’s friend, Ms. Janey. It wasn’t long after we arrived that we were seated at the dining table on the back deck.
Mr. Bishop had gone all out, making the most juicy, flavorful, and tender smoked brisket. His lady friend, Ms. Janey, had chipped in by making macaroni salad, baked potatoes, corn on the cob, and yeast rolls.
“I talked to my daughter this morning, Quentin. She told me that you closed the studio today. My grandbaby really hated that because he loves his karate class.” Ms. Janey initiated the conversation.
“Yeah. With Labor Day being Monday, I felt like I deserved a break. I work six days a week, and I haven’t closed the studio on a Saturday in over three years.”
Mr. Bishop pretended to choke on his food, but the smirk on his face and the twinkle in his eyes gave away the fact that he was messing with Q. “Stayed around the house this morning, instead of jumping up to busy yourself with work, did you? How’d that work out?”
I continued to eat, pretending not to notice the identical smirk that Q gave his dad before answering. “It was working out good . . . until DeVaughn and Monique showed up unexpectedly.”
“What? What for? Why’d they show up?”
Quentin shrugged. “I don’t know, man. But it was awkward and uncomfortable.”
“Uh, Teagan’s mom really didn’t appreciate me opening the door,” I added sheepishly.
“Oh sh . . . wow.” Mr. Bishop caught himself. “Okay. So, they were caught off guard.”
“We were caught off guard,” Quentin amended. “I was in my house, where I pay the mortgage. Who I have in there is my business.”
“Yeah, but it’s almost her birthday. They didn’t mean any harm,” I said.
“DeVaughn didn’t mean any harm. Monique definitely meant harm.”
“Well, a strange lady answered their son-in-law’s door.” Janey mused in between bites of food.
“She was only strange to them, Janey.” Mr. Bishop’s tone held a warning. “She’s not strange to my son. Besides, they’re gonna have to accept the fact that he’s gonna find love again.”
“Maybe he could have told them about his friend before he let them find out in such a jarring way.”
Quentin glared at Ms. Janey. “I don’t owe them open-door access to my life. And maybe I could’ve told them about Eastley and even introduced them to Eastley if they would’ve let me know they were coming. Who shows up unannounced to a grown man’s house?”
Janey shrugged her shoulders. “His wife’s parents.”
“His wife is no longer on this Earth, Janey. Like he said, he doesn’t owe them access to his life.”
“Well—”
Mr. Bishop cut her off. “Drop it, Janey. You don’t know any more about my son’s situation than what you hear in the gossip circulating around Sweet Jackson. You shouldn’t offer opinions about subjects you don’t know anything about.”
She chewed her food thoughtfully before speaking again. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just thinking like a parent.”
Mr. Bishop made a sound deep in his throat that sounded like a cross between a scoff and a groan.
“I’m just thinking like a parent too. Yes, I understand they lost their child.
It was a horrible and devastating thing that happened.
They buried their child, and I watched helplessly while mine became a shell of his former self.
Withdrawn. Angry. Guilty. Hopeless. Eternally altered.
Now God has decided to restore my son. There’s not a devil in Hell or that spends time in my bed that I will allow to convince him that if he doesn’t walk around with a black cloud hovering over his head, he’s in some way dishonoring Teagan.
“Her parents and nobody else gets to decide when the appropriate amount of time has passed for my son to make his way out of the active grief and mourning stage.”
“That wasn’t where I was going, Quincy. I was just acknowledging the fact that the last thing Monique and DeVaughn were probably expecting to see was an unfamiliar face at their son-in-law’s door.”
“And I was just acknowledging the fact that my son doesn’t owe them his chastity, his singleness, or his celibacy.”
The rest of lunch was silent with unspoken tension.
Every bite of food that landed in my stomach hit with a thud.
I hated that there was so much contention centered around my presence in Quentin’s life.
If I could’ve gone back in time, I never would’ve answered his door.
I would’ve hidden out in the bedroom and let him deal with Monique and DeVaughn.
I felt the biggest wave of relief when Quentin announced to his father that we were leaving.
I expressed my gratitude to Mr. Bishop for having me and told him that the meal he prepared was delicious.
I said a stiff goodbye and gave a brief wave to Janey.
I neglected to lie about it being nice to meet her. It wasn’t.
I was glad that we took Quentin’s bike instead of the truck.
There was no way for us to talk on the bike, and I still wasn’t ready to express the thoughts going through my mind.
At the house, I went directly into the guest bedroom.
While I had moved a lot of my stuff into Quentin’s room, I hadn’t moved everything.
I changed out of the sundress and into a hoodie and shorts.
I left the room, padding through the house in my socks. I found Quentin in the kitchen getting a glass of iced water.
He glanced over at me, and a look of sadness passed over his face before he schooled his expression. It hurt my heart to see him unhappy, but the entire day had made me feel a way that I didn’t like feeling. I needed to talk my feelings out with somebody who wasn’t enmeshed in the situation.
“You going somewhere?”
“Asia’s picking me up. I need a minute to process.”
“You don’t feel like you should process those feelings with me?”
I gave him a small, weak smile. “I do. But first I have to process them with me.”
He watched me silently for a few seconds before he nodded. “Okay. Not too long, though. I’m not going to sleep without you in our bed with me.”
He called it our bed, and that actually made some of the tension I was feeling dissipate. I walked over to him. When I was close enough, I wrapped my arms around his waist. He wrapped his around my shoulders and held me.
“It was intense,” I confided to Asia after telling her about how Mr. Bishop checked his lady at the lunch table. The two of us were seated at the kitchen island.
“Well, she probably should’ve stayed her mouthy ass out of it,” Asia said. “You know I can’t stand her.”
“I don’t remember her,” I admitted. Sometimes, it was like I had erased the memories of growing up in Sweet Jackson. But then again, I left pretty young.
“She used to process the loans at Sweet Jackson Bank.” Asia rolled her eyes.
“So she would see all of your financial business when you applied. I remember I went there for a small personal loan to buy my first car. They turned me down. Then I ran into her at the grocery store, and she starts telling me how I should’ve known they were gonna turn me down when I had all those outstanding student loans.
” She eyed me. “Now, she knew good and damn well that peoples’ loan applications were confidential.
She had no business discussing them, let alone in the middle of Sweet Jackson Food Basket where anybody could overhear.
I wanted to punch her dead in the face.”
“Did you report her?”
“For what? Her granddaddy was the bank’s president.
That’s how she got away with running her mouth about people’s finances and kept her job.
The next time I needed a loan, I carried my ass straight to First National Bank of Londynville where nobody knew my name and where I wouldn’t run into them in the grocery store.
After that, I found out that nobody local got loans from Sweet Jackson Bank.
Everybody went to Londynville. Sweet Jackson Bank had to close their loan department.
When her grandfather finally retired, and her daddy took over, he moved her ass right outta loans and into the safe deposit box department.
She was down there in the basement all by herself most of the time.
Then local people slowly started returning to Sweet Jackson for loans.
” Asia cackled loudly. “Mr. Bishop told her ass off? That’s what she gets. I can’t stand her.”
“I don’t know. After seeing the reaction of Teagan’s parents, and Janey acting like I’m the side piece that Quentin’s running around on Teagan with, . . . I don’t know how to feel.” I gave a sigh that held all the heaviness that I felt.
“I think you should consider the sources, East. I mean, it could be thirty years after Teagan’s death, and her parents are probably still gonna feel like Quentin owes his love and loyalty only to her.
They’re biased. You have to take their opinions with a grain of salt.
As far as Janey? Her ass is just a busybody with something to say about everybody’s business.
Meanwhile, she was minding other folks’ business while her husband was running around on her, and her children were slipping through the cracks.
I mean, she has six of them, and none of them are doing anything worth writing home about.
” Asia shrugged. “So, respectfully, fuck her and Teagan’s parents. ”
Before I could respond, the doorbell rang. I waited, sipping on the glass of iced water I’d requested while Asia checked the security app.
She gave me a sly smile. “Your man is here.”
“What?”
“Your man is at the door.”
“I told him I needed time to process.”
“Apparently, your time is up.”
I pulled out my phone and checked the time. I’d been there less than a half an hour.
A few minutes later, Kobey walked into the kitchen, followed by Quentin.
“Hey,” I said, still confused.
“You ready?” Quentin asked me.
My face had to have shown what I was thinking and feeling, because Kobey and Asia were completely tickled by the drama playing out in their kitchen. “I just got here twenty minutes ago.”
“I know.” He shrugged. “It’s been too long. Let’s go home.”
My mouth opened and closed.
“Go home, East. You and Bishop need to talk. Besides, me and Kobey have some errands to run. Call me.”
“Okay.”
I gathered my purse, walked the empty glass to the sink, and left the house with Quentin.
He’d driven his truck, so I climbed into the passenger seat and buckled up.
We rode the distance from my brother’s house to the home we shared in silence.
But once we stepped into the foyer and closed the front door, Quentin pulled me into his strong arms.
“You can have all the time you need to process, E. I’m not trying to stop your flow. You just gotta . . . you just gotta do it here. At our house. I don’t like the distance. I don’t like the thought of you processing your thoughts with so much distance between us.”
“Okay.” I agreed because I understood what he meant. He lost so much. He was worried about me walking away too. “Okay.”
He buried his face in the crook of my neck, his warm breath tickling me as he whispered, “Stay close to me, baby. Please stay close to me. I love you so much. Stay close to me.”
“I love you too,” I whispered back to him.