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Chapter Nine:
A Better Bishop
The next morning, Ididn’t feel better. I thought I would, hoped I would, but the second I saw Sterling in the kitchen, I avoided him like the plague. It wasn’t until he was gone that I actually went to prepare breakfast for Charlie and then I went to his usual spot by the window.
“Someone order bacon and horse pills?” I set a tray down and handed him his medicine. “You sleep okay?”
“As well as an old man can, I suppose.” He eyed me sadly before taking his pills, then nodded to my phone. “You’ll want to be as punctual as possible today.”
“Yeah, I know.” I grabbed my phone and kept the text void of emojis as I sent the update and then looked out the window. “Is he going to fire me for being a human who makes mistakes? I just need to know how softly to walk on these eggshells.”
Charlie shook his head as he began to eat. “No. He needs you, in more ways than either of you know. He’ll come around, Zeppelin. Just give him space and a little time. Please?”
“That I can do. This is a big house; I’ll avoid as much as possible and text words instead of emojis.” I rolled my eyes with a sigh. “Can you tell me a good story about him? One where he was happy? I don’t care his age, I just want to stop picturing his angry face and so far it’s all I know. I know there has to be a nice man under there; he came from you and Ellie.” But boy, am I struggling to believe it.
“I know how it must look, but he wasn’t always like this. Can you — the armoire, at the bottom.” He pointed to the wall behind us. “There’s a ... picture album. Would you bring it here?”
“Mmhm.” I grabbed it, then helped him hold it up as he flipped through the pages with a smile that told me he was lost in memories. It was beautiful, and I found myself suddenly wishing my family was closer and my parents had cared about keeping something as priceless as this.
He stopped on a page with only two pictures. The first showed two boys, one light haired, one dark, one smiling and one who looked terrified. The second photo was of a fire truck. “I know you wanted to see Sterling smile, but this story is worth telling. Oliver climbed the tree in our backyard one day to get away from our neighbor’s chickens. They’d gotten out and he wasn’t thinking about anything but putting some distance between himself and them, but he couldn’t get back down. Oh, he was terrified,” he chuckled. “I couldn’t get up there to get him m-myself. Couldn’t climb much at all after the war. Sterling scaled that thing like a monkey and held Oliver until the fire department came to get them both down and our neighbor got his chickens.”
My chest tightened. “Treed by a chicken, huh? So why is Ollie the one smiling here?”
“Because he knew he had nothing to be afraid of anymore. He had his brother ... who’s frowning, by the way, because he’s petrified of heights. Still is to this day, if I’m not mistaken.”
He flipped ahead a few more pages as I felt myself soften toward Sterling. I didn’t want to, but at the same time, I did — this was what I’d asked for anyway. I wanted to see him as a normal man, not the man that looked at me like I was a bug that needed to be squashed.
The next set of pictures he showed me were of Sterling, much older now, with his eyebrows wrinkled in concern as he held what appeared to be an animal. “This was the day he rescued Carl. Ellie loved taking pictures at inappropriate times, especially of the boys. But Carl was a-a stray, and Sterling found him on the side of the road with a broken leg. He blew the biggest deal of his career that day. Missed a pitch to take Carl to the vet and make sure he’d live.”
At the mention of his name, Carl piped up, whining and making noise like he was trying to talk. I smiled down at him and pet his soft fur. “I think he remembers. Who decided to make him a proper member of the family?”
“Sterling. He claimed it was because saving him cost too much money not to keep him, but they were inseparable for a while.” Charlie turned to me then, meeting my eyes and taking my hand. “I know you asked for pictures where he was smiling, but the truth is ... that’s not the Sterling worth talking about. This one is. My boy who’d do anything to help someone. I know he’s rough, and I know he hasn’t been kind to you. All I ask is that you remember why you’re here.”
“I’m here for you, Charlie. Sterling isn’t going to scare me away. He’d have to work a helluva lot harder to do that. Thank you for sharing those stories, it really does help. If you were to advise me one way or the other, would you suggest I try and be someone I’m not to keep him happy? I know most people have to put on a work face every day, but when you live in the same place you work, it can be difficult. I’ll try, though. I really like being here. I feel like I belong here.”
Charlie smiled then, a mischievous little thing I didn’t quite understand. “I need you to be exactly who you are, Zeppelin. He’ll warm up to you. And if you need a little motivation—” he turned to the back of the album and tapped the bottom picture, one of the whole family — “This is what he looks like when he’s happy.”
I smiled down at all of them, unable to help it. “Such a beautiful family. Has anyone ever told you your sons are annoyingly handsome?”
He laughed until he coughed, then laughed a little more. “Yes. You wouldn’t believe how many times.”
I couldn’t fight it and joined in. I could tell he was proud of that fact, and it was blatantly obvious he had in fact heard that before. “Does Oliver have someone special in his life?” I had a feeling I knew the answer based on what Kapri told me, but I was more curious about Charlie’s relationship with his youngest son. I just didn't know how else to bring it up.
“Just his money and his frequent flier miles as far as I know,” he explained. “I don’t see him much these days.”
I nodded, treading lightly. “I’m sorry, that has to be hard. Would you like me to call him and invite him to dinner?”
“That would be lovely.”
The hope on Charlie’s face had me grabbing my phone instantly and pressing call on Oliver’s contact information. I left the room as it rang, not wanting Charlie to hear if I’d have to argue a little for this to happen.
“Hello?” a voice similar to Sterling’s answered, it was only slightly less deep than his, but had the same get to the point energy as his older brother.
“Hello, is this Oliver?”
“Ahh, fuck! Look, I promise I remember you ... probably ... but it’s not mine!”
“Excuse me? What isn’t yours?” I asked, confused, pacing the hallway with a frown I was glad Charlie couldn’t see.
