The Tenth Justice (24 page)

“Ben, be serious.”

“You’re on your own, missy. Just keep your head down at all times.”

As they moved through the terminal, Lisa searched the crowd, hoping to identify Ben’s family. Suddenly, a voice screamed out, “Yooohooo! Benjamin! Nathan!”

“Oh, God, it’s Ober’s mom,” Ben whispered to Lisa, nodding in the direction of a frosted-blond head bobbing in the crowd. The woman was frantically waving her hands.

“Be careful,” he said. “She may try to put a scrunchie on you.”

The five friends made their way through the crowds and watched as Ober was enveloped by his mother’s hug. Wearing an extra long purple sweatshirt and a pair of black leggings, Barbara Oberman could barely contain herself. “William! I missed you more than words!” She squeezed Ober with all her might. “Nathan!” she said, moving toward the group of friends. “Eric! Ben!” She wrapped her arms around each one, a human hugging assembly line. “And you must be Lisa,” Ober’s mother said, extending her hand. “You should know that you’re the first girlfriend Ben’s brought home since—what was her name?—Lindsay something.”

“Lindsay Lucas,” Ober sang. “The psycho from Long Island.”

“Whatever happened to her?” Nathan asked.

“Last I heard, she had hurt herself in a terrible Skee-Ball accident,” Ober said.

His face red, Ben interrupted, “Mrs. Oberman, do you know where my dad is?”

“He and your mom are working late,” she said. “I’ll drop you off at home. Nathan, Eric, I told your parents I’d pick you up as well. I have the minivan.” After they retrieved their baggage, the small group walked to the parking lot and loaded their belongings into the podlike cherry-red minivan.

Pulling off at the West Newton exit, the van left the Massachusetts Turnpike and entered suburbia. Armed and stocked with roving rent-a-cops, the community was determined to remain a safe, clean neighborhood, no matter what the cost. As the minivan followed the curving streets, Ben said, “On your left, you can see Dr. MacKenzie’s house—of the Newton MacKenzies. Naturally it’s the biggest house in Newton.”

“He’s the best plastic surgeon,” Ober’s mother explained.

“This place is unbelievable,” Lisa said, looking around. “I’ve seen suburbia and it’s driving a Volvo.”

After dropping off Eric and Nathan, the Oberman shuttle pulled up to Ben’s house.

“So what are the sleeping arrangements for tonight?” Ober asked as he opened the door.

“Funny,” Ben said as he and Lisa climbed out of the van. “Thanks for the ride, Mrs. Oberman.”

“You’re welcome. Tell your mom I say hi.”

“I definitely will,” Ben said. “And by the way, I’d watch your son while he’s home. He’s been so busy at work, he hasn’t been eating well.”

“I knew you looked skinny!” Ober’s mother said as Ben shut the door and Ober scowled out the window.

“Now that was downright mean,” Lisa said.

“He deserved it,” Ben said as he walked up the path to his house.

Lisa looked up at the modest Colonial-style home. “Nice place.”

As they approached the front steps, the front door opened. “Benjamin!” his mother said. She opened her arms and gave him a long embrace. “You look terrific,” she said. “A bit thin, but otherwise terrific. And you must be Lisa,” she said, extending her hand.

“Nice to meet you,” Lisa said.

“In case you didn’t guess, this is my mom,” Ben said. “She’s the malevolent evil one I was telling you about.”

“Don’t be such a smart-ass,” Ben’s mother said. “I’m trying to make a good impression.” Without question, Ben had inherited his mother’s features: her strong eyes, her quizzical eyebrows, the way her nose crinkled when she laughed. Even their mannerisms seemed to mirror each other. For every quick remark Ben had, his mother had a stronger retort.

Carrying his packed-to-capacity nylon bag, Ben followed Lisa and his mother into the house. When they reached the living room, Mrs. Addison called out, “Michael! They’re here!” From out of the kitchen, Ben’s father appeared, dressed in jeans and a beat-up old Michigan T-shirt.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Addison. I’m Lisa.”

Taking Lisa’s hand, he said, “Please, call me Michael. Mr. Addison’s my dumpy old dad.”

His hair was longer than Lisa had expected. It must be the old-hippie thing, she thought.

“Why don’t you bring Lisa’s bags upstairs,” Ben’s mother said to Ben. “I wasn’t sure how you two wanted to do the sleeping arrangements, so…”

“Mom, we’re not even dating,” Ben said.

“Well, excuse me, Mr. Bachelor,” Ben’s mother said. She turned to Lisa and added, “He says you two aren’t dating, but he hasn’t brought home a woman since Lindsay—what was her name?”

“Lindsay Lucas,” Ben and Lisa said together.

Smiling, Ben’s mother said, “I see you’ve already had this discussion.”

“I refuse to explain,” Ben said. Grabbing Lisa’s bag, he walked toward the stairs. “I’ll be right back.” Walking up to his old room, Ben inhaled the smells of his childhood. It felt good and familiar and safe to be back, he decided. As with every other visit home, he marveled at the illusion that everything around him had gotten smaller—from his old bed, to his old desk, to the Albert Einstein poster on his wall. After a quick trip to the bathroom, he put Lisa’s bags in the guest room and then walked down to the kitchen.

“Awwwww,” he heard Lisa say as he entered the room. “You were so cute!”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Ben said. “Baby pictures already? What’d it take, two whole minutes? That’s a new record for you, Mom.”

“Leave her alone,” Lisa said, still engrossed in the photos.

“You should see some of the home movies we have,” Ben’s father added.

“Don’t even think of it, Dad,” Ben warned. “Home movies have at least a one-night waiting period.”

“So tell me more about Ben as a little kid,” Lisa said.

“Tell her about the time I lit Jimmy Eisenberg on fire.”

“Oh, shush,” Ben’s mother said. Turning back to Lisa, she continued, “He was so bright. He learned to read when he was two. And by the time he was four, he used to read Michael’s articles.”

“He found a spelling mistake in one of my final drafts,” Ben’s father said proudly. “Tell Lisa about the time you found him up on the roof.”

“Now that’s a story,” Ben’s mother said. “When Ben was five, it was late one night, and I couldn’t find him. I was frantic—”

“Mom,
you
were frantic?” Ben asked.

“I was frantic, looking everywhere for him. I was pulling my hair out. Suddenly, I hear this sound on the roof. Let me tell you, my heart dropped. I ran up through the attic and opened the door to the roof, and there’s Benjamin, wearing his little pajamas and holding a rope in his hand. So I scream, ‘Benjamin, what the hell do you think you’re doing out here?’ And he says to me, ‘Mommy, I was just trying to lasso the moon.’”

“Awwwwww,” Lisa said. “Ever the little over-achiever.”

“Oh, well—show’s over,” Ben said, leaving the kitchen. “Good night.”

“Benjamin, come back here,” Ben’s mother said.

Scanning through the pictures, Lisa looked up and asked, “Is this little guy your brother?”

“Yeah,” Ben said with a smile. He then looked over at both his mother and father.

Confused, Lisa was silent.

“That’s Daniel. He passed away when he was twelve,” Ben’s father said. “He had leukemia.”

“I’m sorry,” Lisa said. “I didn’t know.”

“And now you do,” Ben said, trying to make Lisa feel comfortable. Standing behind her, he put his hands on her shoulders. “Don’t worry about it. It’s okay.”

“He was a terrific young man,” Ben’s mother said proudly. “You would’ve really gotten along.”

“Thanks,” Lisa said, unsure of what else to say.

“Maybe we should call it a night.” Ben looked at his watch. “It’s close to midnight.”

“That’s a good idea,” Ben’s mother said, stacking the photo albums in a neat pile. “What do you two have planned for tomorrow?”

“I think we’re going to spend the day in the city. Lisa’s never been to Boston. And we’re supposed to go over to Nathan’s house for dinner.”

“That’s right,” his mother said, getting up from her seat by the kitchen table. “Joan told me that. Just make sure we see you for at least a few hours.”

“We will, Mom. Don’t worry.”

“Nice to meet you both,” Lisa said as she and Ben left the kitchen.

Neither Ben nor Lisa said a word until they reached the second floor. “I’m sorry about bringing up your brother,” Lisa finally said as they entered the guest room.

“It’s okay,” Ben said warmly. “It’s been a while, so we can handle it.”

“It must’ve been a painful loss.”

Sitting on the white Formica desk in the corner of the room, Ben explained, “It was really terrible. He was diagnosed with childhood diabetes when he was ten. And that just led to complications when the leukemia came. He was a medical mess.”

“How old were you when he died?”

“Fourteen,” Ben said, propping his feet up on the chair below the desk. “It was the worst time in my life. I couldn’t sleep for months—I had to start speaking to one of my dad’s friends who was a family psychologist. My mother was a wreck. In fact, if it wasn’t for my father, we’d probably all be in the nuthouse at this point. He really kept it together then.”

“Your parents are great,” Lisa said, sitting on the bed.

“They definitely are,” Ben admitted.

“I’m just surprised you turned out as well as you did,” Lisa added. “I mean, lassoing Earth’s favorite satellite—that can make you a little nuts.”

“Ho-ho. You’re a riot.”

Lisa kicked off her sneakers. “So tell me what happened with you and Eric on the plane. He didn’t say a word the whole way here.”

“Nothing. I told him off. I don’t want to have to deal with his crap anymore.”

“Good,” Lisa said. “I was worried you were going to actually forgive him over time.”

“No way,” Ben said. “I love my friends. I’d do anything for any of them. I’d do anything for you. But life is too short to waste your time on assholes.”

“I don’t even think it’s about being an asshole. I think his actions were a violation of your trust. As far as I’m concerned, that’s the single worst thing you can do to a friend.”

“Listen, you don’t have to tell me. Between Rick and Eric, trust has been the Problem Virtue of the Year.”

At noon the next day, Ben came down to the kitchen, where he saw Lisa and his mother talking. “Well, well, look who finally decided to join us,” Ben’s mother said as she cut vegetables for the following night’s Thanksgiving dinner. Not fooled by Ben’s recent shower and his close shave, she could see the still-tired look in her son’s eyes. “What time were you two up until last night?”

“Probably around four,” Lisa said.

Ben’s mother dropped her knife on the cutting board and stared.

“Mom, calm yourself,” Ben said, rolling his eyes. “We were just talking. Is that okay?”

“It’s none of my business,” his mother said. “I didn’t say a word.”

“You didn’t need to.” Turning to Lisa, he said, “How are you so awake?”

“I can’t sleep late,” Lisa explained. “I’ve been up since seven.”

In mid-yawn, Ben stretched toward the ceiling. “You’re crazy. Sleeping is the source of life.”

Suddenly, the telephone rang. “Hello?” Ben’s mother said, turning away from her vegetable slicing. Pausing for a moment, she responded, “Yes, he’s right here. Hold on one second.” She turned to Ben. “It’s for you. It’s someone named Rick.”

The color drained from Ben’s face. Surprised at her son’s reaction, Ben’s mother handed him the phone. Ben stretched the phone cord so that he was almost standing in the other room. “Hello?”

“Hey, Ben,” Rick said. “How’s everything at home?”

Pulling the cord even farther, Ben moved into the dining room. “What do you want?”

“Nothing,” Rick said. “I just wanted to make sure everything was okay there. And I wanted to wish you and your family a lovely Thanksgiving. Is that okay?”

“No, it’s not okay,” Ben said, struggling to keep his voice low. “I’m hanging up the phone now. If you want to talk to me, call me when I get back to D.C. Otherwise, stay the hell away from my family.”

“Ben, I just want you and your family to have an enjoyable Thanksgiv—”

Ben hung up the phone and forced a smile as he walked back into the kitchen.

“Is everything okay?” his mother asked. “Who was that on the phone? Who’s Rick?”

“It’s just a friend from the Court,” Ben said. “We were having this argument about this case, and he wanted to talk about it. It’s no big deal.”

“Benjamin, don’t lie to me,” his mother said.

“Mom, I’m not lying!” Ben insisted. “It’s this jerk from work that I always disagree with. It’s fine. We’ll work it out.”

Before she could say a word, Ben was out of the room. “Lisa, c’mon!” he yelled from the front door.

Getting in his mother’s car, Ben was silent, his lips pursed in anger. He was already inching the car out of the driveway by the time Lisa opened the door and jumped inside.

“Don’t worry about stopping,” Lisa said as Ben pulled out of the driveway. “I’m fine.” Getting no response, she asked, “So what’d he say?”

“Nothing. He was just being an asshole.”

“I assumed that,” Lisa said. “Now tell me what he said.”

“I really don’t want to talk about it,” Ben said. “I just want to enjoy myself today.”

“Just tell me…”

“Please,” Ben pleaded. “Let’s just forget about it.”

Lisa was silent until they turned onto the Massachusetts Turnpike. “Are you at least going to tell me where we’re going?”

Taking a deep breath, Ben said, “First, we’re going to Beacon Hill, where you will not only see some of our fair city’s best architecture, but you will also partake in a Vito’s upside-down pizza.”

“An upside-down what?”

“We’ll be eating at a restaurant called Vito’s, where they serve two slices of pizza facing each other. Now stop ruining the story.” Resuming his calm, narrating voice, he continued, “After that, we will walk through the Boston Common and into the heart of downtown.”

“Are we going by the
Cheers
bar?”

“No, we are not going by the
Cheers
bar. This isn’t the Freedom Trail. You’ll see this city like a native. Naturally, that will mean that you’ll miss the U.S.S.
Constitution
, the
Cheers
bar, Faneuil Hall, and all the other touristy nonsense that people love to snap pictures of, but you’ll be a better person for it.”