“I’m not here for your forgiveness, Michael.”
Trent scoffed. “You should be.”
Wood placed his large hand on the back of Trent’s neck. “Let her speak her piece. Bishop might need this.”
Bishop glanced at Mike and then Ivy before he sighed. “I’m pretty sure I don’t. If you came to give me a bunch of reasons why you left me in the hospital and never looked for me again, I’m really not interested. I don’t need to know. All I do know is that I have one parent, a father. And I know he’ll never leave me no matter what. And that’s good enough for me.”
“No, wait,” Ivy pleaded when Bishop went to turn around. “When I went to Mama’s place, just for nostalgia’s sake, she told me that you and Mike were happy and doing so well. And I wasn’t going to bother you—I was gonna leave you alone just like Mama told me to. But then I heard through the grapevine that you’re…” More tears fell, faster than she could wipe them away. “I heard you’re getting married and that you have a successful business and everything.”
“That’s right,” Bishop answered dryly.
“I guess we’ve both done pretty good for ourselves, then, despite our circumstances.” Ivy reached into her small purse and pulled out a business card and extended it to Bishop. “Now, I can help mothers that were in similar situations as I was. Lost and scared, and about to make a horrible, life-altering, decision. I’m just trying to pay it forward.”
His son took it and glanced at the card, a confused scowl marring his forehead before he handed it over his shoulder to Edison.
“It says, Ivy St. James, MSW, child and family master social worker, community and social services manager at Fulton County Human Services.” Edison gave Bishop back the card, and he returned it to Ivy.
She reluctantly took it, gazing up at Bishop. “What’s wrong? Why—”
“I can’t read it anyway,” Bishop said bluntly.
“What?” Ivy choked. “What do you mean you can’t read it? Why not?” She turned toward Mike, her mouth in a dangerous slash. “Why the hell not?”
“No, wait.” Edison was shaking his head as if this was all a big misunderstanding. “He could’ve sounded out all of those words, but it was printed in some kind of fancy, cursive font.”
“So what? You learn to read cursive in third grade,” she exclaimed, one hand on her hip, her fury now directed toward Mike. Her tone sounded full of disgust as she mocked, “‘Sound it out.’ What did you do, Michael? What’s wrong with him?”
Mike had never in his life considered hitting a woman, but his fists clenched at his sides, and Manny was using a lot more strength now to hold him back. He couldn’t believe she’d just asked him that.
“Hey! What the fuck? There’s nothing wrong with him!” Trent barked, a vein bulging out the side of his neck. Wood was quick as he grabbed Trent around his waist because there was only one other person in the world more sensitive than Mike about Bishop not being able to read, and that was his brother. Anyone that ever called B stupid usually got their asses stomped by Trent before they’d even finished the insult.
Ivy hurried and swung around to Bishop. “No, no, no,” she stammered. “That’s not what I meant. I don’t blame you, son. I blame your father.”
“Have you lost your goddamn child-abandoning-ass mind?” Trent fumed.
“Trent, stop,” Wood tried but failed.
“Blame our father!” Trent was being physically restrained and hauled toward the back gate after Wood couldn’t get him to settle down. “You seriously came here talking this bullshit? Is everyone here forgetting that this skank slept with Mike when he was a fifteen-year-old and she was old as fuck? Are we just gonna let that slide? Someone call the damn police on her! Fuckin’ hashtag me-too up in this bitch for my pops! Kick her off the damn property, Dad, and slap a restraining order on her ass!”, were the last words Trent got in before he was dragged behind the gate.
“Ivy, I think we should go,” her husband said out the window from the safety of his car. “Now.”
“No,” she fussed back at him. Ivy refocused her attention on Bishop, then took a slow breath before she lowered her voice. “I’m sorry, this isn’t going at all how I expected.”
“What did you expect?” Bishop asked.
“I expected you to be old enough to know that life is unfair sometimes, and people are human. We make mistakes. Sometimes really bad ones that cost us something special. I grew up in a bad environment, Bishop, and I ended up in an abusive marriage. I was broken and had no education…” She turned sad, regretful eyes at Mike. “I’d done something stupid and shameful, and then I got pregnant to top it all off. I was so messed up in the head I knew I couldn’t take care of a baby.”
Bishop shook his head. “That’s not what I was taught. I was taught not to make excuses for your mistakes. That you own it, and if you ever get the chance, you try to make up for it.”
“Yes. You’re absolutely right, and I knew Mike wasn’t going to make it easy when I showed my face again, but I came anyway. To look you in your eye and tell you that I’m sorry, and I was a coward. I’m sorry you didn’t get the mother you deserved.”
“Well, you gave me a good father… I’ll call us even.” Bishop put his arm around Edison’s shoulder.
“The hell we will,” Mike spoke up after watching and listening for long enough. Fuck that. She didn’t deserve their understanding or forgiveness. She needed to let go and move on.
Mike was done with this drama. They didn’t need her in their lives, flaunting her wealth and education in their faces, potentially making his son feel less than. “You can leave now, Ivy. I’ve already given you far more leniency than I would’ve anyone else. You’ve seen him. He’s fuckin’ awesome. Now say your goodbyes.”
“Bishop, is that what you want? You can make your own decisions,” Ivy pleaded, ignoring Mike. “We may not be mother and son, but we could at least maybe start to get to know each other, right? There’s no harm in that. I’m just asking for a chance. Maybe an invite to the wedding can be a good start. Hello, are you Bishop’s fiancé?” She gestured in Edison’s direction.