The Construction of Cheer - Liz Isaacson Page 0,23
as he came skipping into the kitchen, singing at the top of his lungs.
“Zona,” he said. “I have both of my shoes, and Benny’s already been outside.”
“Good boy,” she said, smiling at him. “But you’re goin’ with Bishy today. He’s taking you to school and then he’s taking Benny to the garage. Remember?
“Bishy?” Montana asked before she could stop herself. She looked at Bishop, grinning like a fool. “Like Bishy Wishy Fishy?”
“Stop it,” he said, though his own smile stretched across his whole face.
She laughed as she reached for the paper towels. He handed her a plate, and for a moment, Montana felt like this was normal. The two of them working together in the kitchen, moving around each other easily, as if they’d done it countless times in the past.
She laid the paper towels over the plate and started tonging the crisp bacon pieces onto it. She set the bread to toast and got out a knife.
A few minutes later, she said, “There’s an art to the bacon piling.” She picked up a healthy pinch of bacon and mounded it right in the center. “See? It falls all to the side, and then it’s perfect.” She lifted the piece. “Who wants the first piece?”
She watched Bishop look at Arizona, who looked back at him. They wore identical expression of doubt, and Montana shook her head. “Lincoln, then. Here you go, bud. Show them they won’t die.”
The boy took the toast and bit into it without hesitation. His eyes got big and round, and he tried smiling and chewing at the same time.
Montana laughed and mounded another handful of bacon onto the next piece of toast. Her mouth watered at the sight of the melty peanut butter and the scent of that salty bacon.
She passed out the toast, and raised hers to Bishop and Arizona, who hadn’t taken a bite yet. Montana did, the crunchy toast slightly softened on the top because of the peanut butter. It was creamy and rich, and the bacon cut through it with grease and salt.
A groan started in the back of her throat, and she closed her eyes in bliss. She chewed and swallowed and said, “I love this stuff.”
Bishop nodded, licked his lips, and said, “It’s delicious.” He took another bite that was practically half of the piece of toast, and Montana looked at his sister.
“Best thing I’ve ever eaten.”
“Please,” Bishop said with a scoff. “Better than that chocolate pie I made for Christmas?”
“Yes,” Arizona said. “Better than that.” She took another enormous bite too.
Montana was pretty sure she’d only said that to antagonize Bishop, and it had worked. She grinned at Bishop, who shook his head as he finished his toast. “Is there more?”
“Sure,” she said just as her phone rang. “Oh, it’s my daughter.” She pushed down the bread. “You just slather on peanut butter and do that mounding technique.”
“I can handle it,” he said dryly, and Montana grinned as she turned away from him.
“Hey, sweetie,” she said to Aurora. “You’re up and getting ready for school?”
“Yep,” Aurora said, her voice already pitched up.
Montana braced herself for whatever came next. Her daughter probably needed something from her, and she quickly ran through what she was supposed to do last night that she hadn’t been able to do because she hadn’t been able to get back to town.
She couldn’t think of anything.
“Listen, I don’t know if you’ll be back this afternoon or not, and Ollie said I could come over for sure after school, and you never said if I could go or not….”
Montana frowned, but she honestly wasn’t sure what her afternoon looked like, as she still had a job at the college to finish, and it would be nice to not have to worry about Aurora. “His parents will be there?”
“Yes, Mom.”
“I get to ask questions,” Montana said, pacing further from Bishop and Arizona and Lincoln, though Arizona and Lincoln seemed engaged in teasing Bishop about his bacon mounding technique.
“I know.”
“Are you going to brush up on your French?”
“Yes,” Aurora said. “And we have chemistry together too. I’m sure we’ll just do homework and watch TV. Just like I do here.”
“His parents said it’s okay?”
“Yes.” Aurora’s impatience came through the line, and Montana knew she should stop. The problem was, once she gave her permission, the call would end.
“Okay,” Montana said. “I’ll keep in touch, so I can get his address and let you know when I’ll be picking you up.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Aurora squealed, and Montana pressed her eyes closed