Breach

Having a wife nagging at you before work with a hang over is possibly the worst way to start a day off. Why is she even up? Jean is never up the same time I am. She likes her sleep. It’s like waking a bear from hibernation to even try getting her up. It never ends well.

However she was awake before I was this morning. She’s tapping her foot impatiently from her spot in front of the stove. There’s a knife in her hand so I make sure to stay away. Women and sharp objects is never good.

“Last night you came home drunk, not only that but a boy brought you home. He couldn’t have even been a college kid! That’s pathetic that a high school boy had to drag your drunk ass home,” Jean hollers, sending a glare at me over her shoulder.

Shit. Really? It must have been Bishop. Although I agree with her, it’s pathetic to have a high schooler bring me home I still don’t see why she’s yelling at me.

“He wouldn’t have had to do it if a certain someone didn’t kick me out of my apartment,” I point out to her. This causes her face to turn red. She’s ready to blow a cap but thankfully it’s time to head to work. Before Jean has time to lecture me I excuse myself and walk out the door.

I’m going to have to go to Frankie’s tonight and check if Bishop is there. I need to thank him for putting up with me. It had to have been annoying. I still can’t believe he brought me home. I wasn’t that obliterated…was I?

Work goes by slowly, too slowly for my taste. At the end of the day I don’t bother returning to the apartment. I have no desire to hear Jean bitch. If she tries lecturing me like a child again I swear I’ll hit her. She’s driving me up a wall.

If she doesn’t hand me the divorce papers soon I will be forced to get them myself.

I wish she and I could be like we used to but there’s just no way. We’re torn apart now. It won’t end well no matter what we do.

I’m unaware of what strange force had me going to an ice cream shop but whatever it is I thank it. Why? Because the moment I step instead there is an all too familiar head of blonde standing in front of the counter, admiring the endless amount of ice cream beneath the glass.

At the sound of the bell the boy’s curiosity causes him to check and see who it was. When he sees me he smiles. Bishop waves shyly at me, like he’s unsure if he should acknowledge that we know each other.

“Are you stalking me?” The boy laughs after I’m at his side, now examining the ice cream too.

“Men and brats aren’t in my target range,” I reply around a smirk. Bishop scowls at being called a brat. His blue eyes go back to childishly ogling his choices once again. The two of us discuss what we want, asking one another what we think would be better until finally ordering.

While waiting, Bishop and I are enveloped in an awkward silence. Beside me Bishop sways back and forth. My fingers are clenching and unclenching within my pockets.

Shouldn’t I be thanking him for last night? Maybe Jean was just messing with me? Hell, it may not have been Bishop. There’s no one else that I think it could be but…you never know.

“So…did Jean say anything to you this morning? You kicked out again?” Bishop suddenly asks, informing me that yes he was the one who brought me home last night. Damn. A small part of me was hoping I wasn’t seen by him.

I shake my head. “She called me pathetic for having a high school kid bring me home. I didn’t feel like listening to her lecture after work so…I came here.”

My answer makes Bishop chuckle. We’re called for, our ice cream is done. Bishop grabs his and before he has time to grab his money I’ve already paid for him. Bishop stares at me in shock. “What’re you doing?”

“Paying for our ice cream,” I answer. There’s an empty seat near the window, looking out onto the streets. I head for it with Bishop right behind me. “Think of it as a thank you for putting up with me last night.”

Bishop and I take our seats. The boy sighs and shrugs. “It’s no problem. I bet you needed someone to talk to.”

Talk to? I don’t remember talking to Bishop. When he sees me staring at him in confusion he laughs. After taking a bite of his ice cream Bishop informs me that I spilled my guts out to him last night about Jean and I. This makes my cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

Great. Now I’m telling strangers about my home life? I’m going insane.

“I know that you don’t remember so I’ll say this again,” Bishop mumbles. I look away from the people outside the window to him. He’s frowning and glaring at his ice cream like it’s the cause of all his problems. “My parents are separating at the moment too so…we’re going through a similar situation. I didn’t say this last night but I feel like I can tell you.”

Bishop bites his lip. He appears to be very nervous with his thumbs twiddling around the cup that holds his sweets. I tap that cup with my spoon. This makes him look up at me. I smile and lean over to show that I’m listening.

“My parents, ever since I was little, never appeared like they were meant for each other. They never cared that what they were doing hurt me too. I saw just how shitty people are, how saying ‘I love you’ can be a total lie and…they just never seemed to care y’know?” Bishop angrily runs a hand through his hair. “It pissed me off so much and when they finally decided to get a divorce I told them how I felt. I told them they should have done it sooner and just let it appear that they gave a damn about me. Because of this they’re trying to make it up to me, which only makes it worse. So…I get how frustrating a divorce is. If you ever want to talk I’m willing to listen.”

I laugh at the last thing Bishop says. Isn’t the older one supposed to be saying that? I’m supposed to be the one saying that I’ll be here to listen but hearing it from Bishop isn’t so bad.

“And I’ll be willing to listen to you too.”

Bishop grins. The boy sits up straight and his eyes just brighten at what I say. It’s like a huge weight was just taken off his shoulders.

“I can’t believe I’m making friends with an old man,” Bishop teases. “I must be pretty desperate.”

“Old man? I’m only 28.”

“That’s old.”

“You’re asking for an ass kicking.”