Page 92 of Mic Drop

“I get it, and I want to meet her. But only if it won’t stress you out.”

“Stress me out? No. Be prepared, though, for a torrent of accusations to stream out of her mouth.” I take a step, then stop. “The most common is that I killed my sister.”

His hand covers his open mouth.

“I didn’t,” I explain. “We were conceived through IVF. With that procedure, it’s common for multiple embryos to be implanted, with the hope one will stick. I survived, while the other one didn’t. She’s decided I killed my sister in her womb. She usually includes some snide remark about how, if my sister were still here, she wouldn’t do whatever I’m being accused of doing.”

His hand lands on my shoulder. “B, I’m so sorry.”

The mask I usually only wear when performing starts to descend. “Her words can’t hurt me anymore. I keep reminding myself that she’s mentally ill.”

“I hear you.” He cracks his knuckles and stares into my soul. “I’m honored you want to introduce her to me.”

“You say that now.”

We enter the building and approach the receptionist to sign in. The poor woman recognizes me and fumbles with the paperwork, but manages to do her job. As we walk through the halls, I ask Luke to send some UC merch to the receptionist. He pulls out his phone and taps out a message.

We stop before her room, with a cheerful Mrs. Hardy on thenameplate. Please let her be lucid and happy today. I knock and wait for the door to be opened.

“How may I help you?” A short, round, middle-aged Latina woman answers.

I’d know her voice anywhere, even though we’ve never met in person. “Ramona? It’s me, Bennett.”

She swings the door wider. “Well, I’ll be. Come on in. Your mother and I were just about to play a game of parcheesi.”

I kiss her cheek and introduce Luke, and we both enter the suite. Mom’s sitting in the Florida room in the back, so I can’t see her yet.

I lean over to her nurse and whisper, “How is she today?”

“Good,” she replies. “She seems content and on an even keel.”

Thank God. Here goes nothing. I enter the room where Mom’s sitting, which has floor-to-ceiling windows, overlooking a water feature in the courtyard. “Hi, Mom.”

She swings around and stares at me, her mouth agape. She tilts her head from side to side for a moment, then surges to her feet. “Bennett?”

Nodding as I cross the room to her, I pull her in for a quick hug. The doctors warned me against excessive touching, as it might trigger an outburst. “We were in the area, so I thought it would be nice to stop by and visit in person rather than over the phone.”

“I can’t believe it’s you.” She reaches to her tiptoes, and touches my cheek. “You’ve grown up to look so much like your father.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Remembering we have an audience, I introduce Luke. “Mom, I want you to meet Untamed Coaster’s manager, my friend Luke Allen.”

She extends her hand, which he shakes. If I hadn’t spent my entire life with this woman, I would think she was normal. The truth lurks right below the surface. Best not to let this visit go too long.

Ramona asks, “Mind if these nice gentlemen sit with you for a while?”

“I always have time for Bennett and his friend. Can you get us some refreshments, Ramona?”

At least she remembered her nurse’s name. Another good sign. Luke and I join Mom at the table and he says, “You have a nice view here. Do you ever go into the courtyard?”

“Oh yes,” Mom replies. “We go to the nearby mall as well. Ramona cooks for me, and there’s a nice restaurant we visit quite often.”

Luke’s eyebrows pull together. I clarify for him. “The dining hall was quite a selling feature.”

Ramona comes in and gives each one of us a glass of iced tea. Not quite as good as Mrs. Fanone’s pink lemonade, but still tasty. Luke raises his glass to her in thanks, and I follow suit. Mom doesn’t, simply sipping from her glass. I can hear her brain working, which makes me nervous. Things could go south fast.

I’m about to suggest we cut our visit short, when Mom springs up. “Hey. Where’s your wife?”

“She wanted me to let you know she was sorry she couldn’t be here,” I respond smoothly, urging her to return to her seat. “She was, um, busy taking care of her mother’s estate. Remember, she recently passed away.”

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