The Construction of Cheer - Liz Isaacson Page 0,67
story then, and Montana just traced the letters of his father’s name on the headstone. Stone. His brother’s name was Bull.
“Are those their real names?” she asked.
“They are,” he said. “My father was like a stone. A big, heavy stone that could not be moved. He was strong in his convictions and his faith. The strongest.”
“Did you save his fingers?”
“I did,” Bishop said. “Both of them. I ran as fast as I could while praying. I got the fingers on ice while Mother radioed out to Bear and everyone else on the emergency channel. Uncle Bull was close to the wood shop, and he got Daddy. Mother and I drove the fingers to the hospital and met them there.” He stared straight down at the stones, and Montana wondered what he was really thinking. His voice was so…dark.
“We saved the fingers, and my dad was back to a limited work schedule within a week. Mother was not happy.” A smile touched his face then. “Bear and Ranger cleaned up the wood shop while we were at the hospital. I have a very, very good family.”
“Yes, you do,” Montana said. It was all Aurora and Aunt Jackie had talked about since Bishop’s birthday party, and they were thrilled to be coming back to Shiloh Ridge tonight.
“At that age, I did not think so,” Bishop said. “I wanted to wrestle. I wanted to play football. I was a fast runner, and I resented that I had to use it to run from the wood shop to the homestead instead of running to score touchdowns.” He finally looked away from the graves and out over the horizon. “I fought with my dad about it several times, until he finally exploded and told me to do whatever I wanted. If I was so smart, I could do whatever I wanted.”
Montana looked at Bishop, because she’d never heard him say anything bad about his father. Ever. He’d never said he didn’t get along with his family. Everything about him was plated in gold, and Montana should’ve known there was something more real underneath.
Everyone had a past, and everyone had things that hadn’t worked out for them. Even Bishop, she was now realizing.
Her perfect Bishop, who she’d started falling in love with.
“What did you do?”
“I wrestled, and I played football,” Bishop said, his voice haunted now. “I missed the time I usually spent with Daddy, and I missed the first signs of his cancer. If I hadn’t….” He left the sentence there.
“There was no way you could’ve known,” Montana said.
“I could’ve if I’d been around,” Bishop said. “Instead, it was Mister who was with Daddy when he doubled-over with abdominal pain and told Mother. It wasn’t the first time. Daddy had been experiencing pain like that for several months, and if I’d been around instead of at practice, we would’ve caught it sooner.”
“Bishop.”
“I quit my senior year and spent it with Daddy as he fought as hard as he could. But even a stone cannot overcome cancer when it’s as advanced and as wide-spread as Daddy’s was.” He hung his head, his regret filling the sky around them. “I didn’t mean to turn this onto me,” he whispered. “I just want you to know, my sweetheart, that things happen sometimes that we cannot control. It took me a decade to come to terms with my behavior and that what you said a few minutes ago is right. There was no way for me to really know. My father’s death is not my fault.”
He looked at her. “Just like your husband’s cheating is not yours. And your mother’s decisions are not your fault. They’re not your burden to carry.”
Montana nodded and released his hand so she could put her arm around his waist. She wanted to be as close to him physically as she was emotionally, and she relished the feeling of his arm around her shoulders, tucking him against her side.
“I’ve never told anyone about Johnny or my mother,” she said. “I would appreciate it if you kept it to yourself.”
“Who am I going to tell?” he asked, his chuckle back to light and airy. “I’ve never told anyone what I just told you, either. Not even Bear, though he probably suspected I blamed myself for Daddy’s death for a while.”
Montana bent down and traced Stone Nelson Glover with her fingers. “I can feel his spirit,” she said. “He is strong.”
She straightened and faced Bishop this time. “I just have to tell you one more thing.”