The Rock 'N Roll Detective's Greatest Hits - a Spike Berenger Anthology by Raymond Benson

watching Friends . Three other women sat near her—they were laughing and enjoying the program but she was not. Every time he saw her now, she appeared smaller for some reason. Was she shrinking? She was much tinier than Berenger remembered her being when he was growing up. Now she looked so fragile and elderly. It nearly broke his heart.
    When he entered the room she looked up. He could swear that there was a moment’s pause before the glint of recognition appeared in her eyes.
    “Hi mom, how you doing?” he asked.
    “There wasn’t any butter,” she said.
    “What’s that?”
    “There wasn’t any butter. I told them a hundred times they need butter on the table.”
    He looked at Mrs. Samuels for an explanation. She didn’t have a clue either.
    “Come on, mom, let’s go for a little walk.” He helped her up and she walked with him out of the room.
    “I’ll leave you two alone for a bit,” Mrs. Samuels said. “I’ll be in my office if you need me.”
    “Thanks,” he said. He allowed his mother to put her arm through his.
    “Such a gentleman,” she said, smiling. It was good to see her smile. “Just like Abe. You met Abe, didn’t you?” She meant her late husband.
    “Of course, mom. Abe was a great guy.”
    “Of course you met him, how could I be so silly. Yeah, he was a great guy. My parents liked him a lot, too.”
    Berenger wrinkled his brow. Her parents were long dead by the time she’d met Abraham Berkowitz. He didn’t say anything until they reached the commons and sat on one of the big sofas in front of an unlit fireplace.
    “Listen, mom, tomorrow they’re gonna move you into a new room,” he said.
    “Huh? Why?”
    “Well, it’s a better room. We thought you’d like a nicer room.”
    “I don’t want a nicer room. Not unless I can have my apartment back.”
    “What apartment, mom?”
    “The one I shared with Cindy.”
    “Cindy?” At first he couldn’t remember anyone named Cindy. Then it hit him. “You mean Cindy ? Your college roommate?” His mom’s best friend from school was named Cindy Watkins. She had been around when Berenger was a kid. Cindy was dead now, too.
    “Cindy and I have a nice apartment. Can I go back there?”
    “Mom, you lived with Cindy when you were going to college at Florida State. That was a long time ago.”
    “Oh. I miss Cindy. Have you seen her lately?”
    “No, mom, I haven’t.” Mrs. Samuels was right. It was getting worse. “Look, mom, don’t worry. You’re gonna love the new room. You may not even know the difference. They’re gonna take you someplace fun tomorrow, like to the mall or something, and then when you come back in the afternoon all your things will be moved.”
    She wasn’t listening. Instead she was fumbling through her little purse that she always carried with her. There wasn’t much in there. Residents didn’t need to keep billfolds, money, keys, or other items younger people took for granted. She finally found a tube of lipstick and showed it to Berenger.
    “Here it is,” she said. “I’ve been looking for this.”
    “Whatcha need lipstick for now, mom?” he asked.
    She looked confused. “Lip—?” She eyed it and put it back in her purse. “Oh. I thought it was…” She shook her head slightly and then shrugged it off. “So how’s work?” she asked.
    “Work’s fine, mom. Hey, I talked to Carl the other day. He said to send you his love.”
    “Carl’s a good boy,” she replied. She patted Berenger on the cheek. “So are you, honey. You’re just like a son to me.”
    Aww geez , he thought.
     
    B erenger made a glass of Jack Daniel’s on the rocks and sat in the easy chair that dominated the living room of his Upper East Side apartment. He picked up the television remote and almost switched on the set but decided against it. He was too depressed to watch the crap on TV.
    It had been a trying evening. He hated seeing his mother in her condition. At least she still maintained a pleasant composure. He