The Enlightened (Mind Dimensions #3)(72)

“Bert told us half the story,” Hillary says, her hand mussing Bert’s hair.

“Here’s what happened after he left,” I say and tell them the whole story.

Mira’s face shows a strange emotion at the mention of Victor, but I don’t stop my story to ask her about it; there’ll be time for that later. Since Thomas isn’t here, I don’t omit the role I played in Kyle’s death. I tell them how I Guided Kyle to get in Victor’s sights, and how I Guided Victor to pull the trigger. I even mention my suspicions about Kyle being under someone else’s control, a theory that makes Hillary furrow her brows. Another conversation that’ll have to wait.

“I need to get back,” I say once I’m done. “Got to check on my moms.”

“And then?” Mira asks.

“Then I’ll know what’s what.”

I grab a salad for Sara and make my way to Lucy’s room. The doctor’s there and Lucy’s already in the process of checking out. This development doesn’t surprise me. Lucy always gets her way.

After a brief discussion, the next step is also decided.

We are all cordially invited to a big dinner at my moms’ house.





*





Everyone fits at my moms’ dinner table—a remarkable feat.

Amazingly, Thomas’s presence was never questioned. Nor was the fact that he wanted to help Sara with the cooking.

“This stir-fried lettuce is amazing,” Lucy says. “Where did you learn to make it?”

“My adoptive mother taught me,” Thomas says. For the first time since I’ve known the guy, a grin shows up on his stoic face. “She came from China as a teen. She taught me a lot of authentic recipes.”

“It brings back memories,” Lucy says.

I give Liz a look, and she shakes her head. My mom is obviously talking about her nostalgia for authentic Chinese cuisine. She isn’t remembering that Thomas is her son. I’m just paranoid when it comes to the topic of memory.

I recall something I haven’t shared with my moms yet, and say, “I have an announcement to make.” I wait until I have their attention and continue, “When you met Hillary, I introduced her as Bert’s awesome girlfriend. To save time, though, I didn’t tell you the whole story about her.” I then proceed to tell Lucy and Sara a fictional story about how Bert looked into my biological parents using his computer skills and he connected what he found out about my mom to Hillary. “What I didn’t tell you,” I say in conclusion, “is that Hillary is my aunt.”

A barrage of questions follow, and everyone learns a little about Hillary’s tumultuous upbringing. She doesn’t call her parents Traditionalists when she’s talking to my moms, but she does describe how she and my biological mom rebelled against their very ‘religious’ and overbearing parents. Her story of my idiotic grandparents is a slight downer to an otherwise happy dinner.

“Speaking of how people met,” Sara says. “You’ve never told us where you met this wonderful woman.” She smiles at Mira.

She’s clearly trying to guide the conversation toward a more cheerful topic. I don’t mind, so I say, “It happened—”

“Let me take that one,” Mira says, surprising me. What follows is another fictional account that makes me sound very assertive and macho. In Mira’s version of events, I approached her at a dance club, bought her a drink, told her a funny story, and all in all, swept her off her feet. Then she goes on to tell them how I took her on a trip to Atlantic City the next day, on the spur of the moment. Apparently, I’m very spontaneous too. By the end, she makes me sound like one of those millionaire boyfriends in romance novels. Then again, I am a millionaire. And I am her boyfriend. At least, I think that’s what I am. In any case, my moms gobble up Mira’s story with plenty of oohs and ahhs.

After a couple of drinks, Eugene stands up. He’s solemnly holding a shot of vodka.

“It’s a Russian tradition. If no one minds, I’d like to say a toast,” he says, looking at Mira.

She hesitantly gives him a slight nod.

“Let’s drink to having made great new friends,” he says with aplomb. “Let’s drink to the health of the hostesses. They, who raised such an awesome offspring.” He winks at me. “Let us also drink to newly reunited families,” he says more seriously, “as nothing is as important as family—”

“Za zdorovje,” Mira says and clinks her wine glass to Eugene’s shot glass.

Eugene beams at his sister.

“Zdarove,” my moms mumble, trying to match Mira’s perfect Russian. They clink their glasses with the siblings’.

“Za zdorovje,” Thomas says, seemingly without an accent. He adds his own clink to the mix.

“Salute,” Liz says, adding her glass to the growing crowd of drinks.

“Cheers,” Bert and I say, joining the clicking with our beer bottles.

Everyone drinks and from there, dinner becomes progressively merrier, reminding me of Thanksgiving.

When it’s over, Mira and I end up staying at my moms’ house for the night, while it’s somehow decided that Eugene will crash over at Bert’s. There’s even mention of coding and/or experiments, which I suspect Hillary finds disturbing, even if she doesn’t show it. Thomas and Liz leave together, but of course, we don’t discuss their sleeping arrangements, as it probably falls under strict doctor-patient confidentiality.