Nearly seven in the morning, and Bishop had prepared freshly squeezed orange juice, cut an entire watermelon and cooked a plate of bacon prior to his mother’s return from yoga. When she entered, he greeted her with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
“Oh. Sweet boy. I thought you’d still be sleeping. It’s raining out.”
“Nope. I made us breakfast. Healthy stuff.”
Whisking her into the kitchen, twirling her in the doorway to nineties music, Bishop pulled out a barstool and seated his mother at the granite bar. “Coffee…black, watermelon, turkey bacon and O.J.”
Seemingly surprised, his mother smiled curiously while she unfolded her napkin. “Bish…I’m thankful for your generosity this morning. Have you been meddling in your father’s marijuana reserves?”
“No, Mom. I haven’t touched Dad’s stash. I’m just in a good mood.”
“Oh. How did your run go last night?”
“Gorgeously. Stepped on a massive-ass thorn, ate some of the hottest shit I’ve ever tasted in my life, and then ate half a cake in the park with Alex.”
“Oh? I didn’t hear much about running in that statement.”
“Nah. The thorn ended our cardio early.”
“You’re limping. Let me look at your—”
“Relax, Mom. Eat. Alex got me taken care of last night and I bandaged it up this morning. Let’s eat and go shopping or just, I dunno, hang out.”
“Really? We’re hanging out today? Well okay. I’m liking this Alex girl more by the minute.”
“Me too.”
Breakfast out of the way, Bishop and his mother cleaned the kitchen and then made their way to the outlet mall. A few hours of shopping had them conversing and laughing. Minus a few details, Bishop gave his mom an overview of his unofficial date with Alex over frozen yogurt. She seemed pleased with this new ‘friendship’…until the topic of relocation was revisited.
“Bishop, are you excited to be going back home? I know your father seems more excited each time I speak with him.”
Sitting outside in metal chairs in the comfortably warm sun, Bishop paused with a mouth full of frozen yogurt. “Um, I was actually thinking about applying here.”
“Applying where?”
“Med school. Right here. It’s a good program and I think with your and Dad’s history I’d have an advantage—”
“What? Because of this girl? Bishop, that’s irrational—”
“Huh? Nah, Mom. I’m just applying to medical school.”
“We had a plan.”
“I know, Mom. If and when I go back I need to make sure it’s for the right reasons. I want to make sure I’m not running.”
“And I want to make sure you’re staying for the right reasons too. If you stay.”
As if his mother had reached across the small table and open-hand slapped him, Bishop felt squashed and defeated by his mother’s comments. His throat tightened as his vision began to blur.
“Bish…sweet boy, are you okay? Are you upset, Son?”
His nerves felt raw and exposed—emotionally taxed and worn. “I want something to look forward to, Mom. My application looks really strong—”
“You’ve been working on it?”
“Yeah.” A single tear escaped his eye.
“Why didn’t you tell me? I’m here to help you, Bish.”
“I didn’t want to upset you.”
“Bishop…beautiful boy. If you’re set on going to medical school here, then I’m going to support that choice. I need you to be open with me and trust that I’m going to support you.”
“So you’ll stay here too?”
The question silenced the conversion for an entire five seconds.
“We’ll need to speak with your father, Bishop, but if you get in to medical school here I’m sure he’ll be set on keeping the house here. We’ll talk about it, okay?” Her hand rested atop of his. “Please, no tears, baby boy. It destroys me to see you upset.”
“’K. Love you.”
“I love you too. And I am so proud of you. I know you’ll make a fine physician, no matter where you study.”
“Thanks.”
“Let’s finish up and go swim, what do you say?”
“Sounds great, Mom.”