“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.”