Satisfied with my appearance, I thought I looked more like Number One, Captain Picard’s first officer, with his black hair, but there weren’t enough pips on my collar for the rank of commander. Besides, that crowd would know who I was.
I packed an overnight bag and headed to Mara’s. She was driving because she knew how to load the wheelchair in her car and didn’t want to find out my trunk wasn’t as chair friendly. Her offer to pick me up was dissuaded by me plainly telling her I was overnighting.
No way could she see my obnoxious house. She’d know I was no normal sales dude when she drove up to my multimillion-dollar mansion.
I parked in my normal spot and trotted up to her door, feeling ridiculous in a costume. Twenty years ago it had been a different story.
All thoughts vanished when Batgirl answered the door wearing knee-high, shiny black boots, and a miniskirt that allowed a peek of thigh. I’d grown used to her baggy shirts, so the yellow utility belt cinched at her waist induced fantasies about what our sleepover would entail.
“Wesley Crusher! Awesome. I love costumes that are a little more obscure.” She grabbed her mask and stepped out.
I found my tongue. “Aren’t you cold?”
“I’ve got a cape.” She grinned and sashayed away.
We climbed into her car and she backed out. “You know what you’ll have to do? The Picard Maneuver.”
“Excuse me?”
“Every time you stand up, pull the front of your jacket down.”
Yeah, I remembered the move, but leave it to Trekkies to give it a name.
“I don’t want to break character.”
She laughed, but our banter didn’t break up the case of nerves I’d suddenly developed. I had a vague idea of where Golden Meadows was and the closer we got, the more my hands trembled.
“What’s your mom’s name again?”
“Wendy.” She glanced at me, at the road, then back at me. “You sure you’re okay with this?”
“Of course, but come on, it’s meeting the mom.”
She smiled and her next words seemed timid. “I’m sure I’d feel the same way if I met yours.”
“I wouldn’t do that to you.” And I wouldn’t, no matter how much resentment and suspicion I harbored.
She sobered and turned her gaze back out the window.
“It’s not you, Mara. She’s…a different creature. Doesn’t make people feel good about themselves.”
“I understand.” She didn’t sound like it.
A sprawling brick building with timber framework came into view. With startling honesty, I determined my place was bigger.
“Are they ready for us?” I meant to lighten the mood, but I didn’t know if that was more for myself than her.
Meeting a parent. I’d known dates’ parents from my social circle. But dressed for Comic-Con? That was a first.
“They’ll love it.”
I followed in her wake as she smiled at the staff that randomly appeared from offices and residents’ rooms. She waved to other residents as they meandered by, some with no assistance, many in wheelchairs, and a smattering of walkers. I nodded in greeting. Mara was right, they enjoyed the show.
We turned into a sunny, quiet room where a thin woman who looked no younger than my mom waited in a wheelchair. Wendy Baranski had hair a similar color as Mara’s natural hue, only with a sprinkling of gray. Her eyes radiated kindness but were wary as if every day was a struggle.
“Are you all set, Mom? Oh, we have to do your hair.” Mara went straight for a narrow closet door but stopped before she dove inside. “Mom, this is Sam.”
Her mom smiled and held out a frail hand for a shake. “Nice to meet you. Call me Wendy.”
“Likewise, Wendy.” I grasped her hand lightly. Wendy’s skin was soft and warm with more strength than I expected, but when I let go, the subtle tremor of her hand returned.
Several things ran through my mind, but all sounded like inane dribble. I talked up girls at my club, prospective buyers and sellers, and my friends during a few get-togethers. But I’d never…just chatted, not without an agenda. Wendy wasn’t the guys I hung out with, neither was she Franklin or Helen, not that I small-talked those two.
Wendy’s gentle smile eased my case of what-do-I-say. “Have you been to TC Comic-Con before?”
“It’s been a while. I don’t believe I’ve ever been in a costume as an adult.”
She chuckled. “This is an annual tradition for Mara and I, as long as I’m up for it.”
“Found it.” Mara popped out of the closet. In her hands was a wig with stereotypical Princess Leia buns and a draping white dress.
“I’ll step out.” I scurried around the corner, but instead of hiding, I’d made myself the center of attention.
A young nurse’s aide walked by with a demure smile, gazing at me under hooded eyes. Her hips kicked out more as she passed me. An older aide trailed behind her, but her look had a maternal quality that I rarely saw in my own mother.
“You two look delightful,” she said as she charged past Wendy’s room.
I threw her a “thanks” and nearly jumped out of my threads when an elderly man spoke behind me.
“Busting Wendy out of here today, eh?” The man’s wizened hands leaned on his metal walker.
“Yes, sir.”
A grin lifted the man’s wrinkled face. “Good. Good. Too young to be stuck with us old people. You kids have fun.”
“You as well.”
He shuffled off.
Was Mara able to bust Wendy out of here often?
After the convention, I could treat us all to dinner. Even if Mara was trying to use me, the simple cost of a meal was nothing. I’d be starving and convention snacks wouldn’t tide me over. And…we were busting Wendy out of a pretty boring place. I wasn’t in a rush to bring her back.
Mara wheeled a giddy Wendy out into the hallway.
“Do I need to bring the car up front?” I asked.
Mara lifted a shoulder without removing her hand from the handles of the chair. “There’s no snow so the parking lot is no issue. They tend to
