Discharged

7

7

When we reached the hotel lobby where Frank told us to meet, we came upon the scene of a tense argument with Mom on one side and Frank on the other. I froze and looked uncomfortably at my girlfriend while my mom said "-clearly not, as it just happened to falter when my son was in that cage."

"Even if I knew how to do something like that-"

"So you're saying you don't even know how to do your job?"

"No, I'm saying the circumstances you're accusing me of doesn't exist! There's no way to make the generator specifically avoid the cage! And furthermore-"

"So the electricity just struck my son of its own accord then?"

"I'm trying to explain, I have no idea. It shouldn't even be possible-"

"Cut the 'impossible' bullcrap. If it was as impossible as you claim it was, my son wouldn't have been struck! So either you are so incompetent at your own job that-"

Lizzie loudly cleared her throat and all eyes turned to our arrival. Mom quickly tried to compose herself, while Frank shook his head as if to remind himself of his manners and rose to smile at us. "There they are! Beck, I'm so happy you're ok!" He approached me, arms outstretched, which I mirrored. Before we made contact, he stepped back with a bit of a tilt of his body. "Safe to touch?" he asked humorously. I saw Lizzie out of the corner of my make a grimace of discomfort.

"Safe to touch," I replied with a grin. Frank's split-second concern melted, and we embraced-with an audible scoff from Mom.

When Lizzie went for her turn at a hug, I nodded toward Dad and stood up close to Mom. "Play nice," I whispered. "I don't blame Frank and I've accepted his apologies for putting me in."

"I don't trust him," Mom hissed. "He's stepped in that cage hundreds of times for that demonstration, and the first time my son steps in it electrocutes him?"

"I reached over the cage," I reminded her. "Really, it was my fault, it was an accident. Frank's a good man, I promise."

"You hardly know him!" Mom snapped turning to me with a red glare. "You only met him yesterday!"

"Lizzie's told me all about him, and she trusts him, and I trust Lizzie. Maybe you should trust me," I said with a bit too much sass than I really meant. When she didn't bother with a response I kept going. "Mom, let's just have a nice dinner in Boston, ok? I don't want to spend this whole week fighting with you guys. Just try to be civil?" Mom sighed, clearly holding in a lot of possible retorts. Ultimately, she relented with a begrudged nod.

Dad, as usual, had remained relatively silent and impartial during the argument, but with our agreement of peace in place he stood to start the festivities. "So Frank, where did you have in mind for dinner?"

Drawn away from his brief conversation with his niece, Frank led us toward the lobby entrance with the wave of a hand. "I know a fantastic Italian place nearby that I always make a point to visit with Marianne once a month. It's fantastic, Lizzie I think you've been there before."

She tilted her head to the side. "Maybe? It'll have been a while if so."

Frank's car was a small black Nissan that would be tough to squeeze five people in. We did our best, me in the middle between Mom and Lizzie, and Dad grabbing shotgun. It helped that Lizzie and I were used to being cuddly, so I leaned close to her when we took off toward the highway.

Frank turned on the radio, and song from the eighties rang through the car. Dad peered over at Frank behind the wheel. "Billy Joel. What an amazing singer."