Finding Miranda

Chapter 22: The Renaissance

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

In the last 24 hours, Shepard has survived a car bomb and the loss of his two best friends, he and MIranda have evaded and confronted hired killers in the woods at night, and Carlo has assassinated the governor of Florida.  But when dawn comes, Miranda and Shep will face perhaps the greatest evil yet:  Hermione Montgomery hyphen Krausse, herself.

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Miranda dozed in a waiting-room chair on the fourth floor of Montgomery Memorial Hospital. She didn't hear the bell of the arriving elevator, but she woke suddenly at the sound of her name. A cloud of disorientation and fatigue lifted gradually, and she recognized the two people standing before her.

"Where is he? I want to see him," the imposing woman said.

"He's sleeping," said Miranda. "We can see him at noon, when they wake him to eat something."

"I'll see him now," the woman said. "I'm his mother."

Miranda pushed against the arms of the chair, slowly raising her body upright.  She stood tall, lifted her chin, and glared into the eyes of the foe.  Miranda, still covered in soot, dirt, sweat, and even blood, from the preceding night, faced Hermione like a badger squared off to battle a bison.  Hermione looked like a million bucks.  Miranda looked like an extra in a zombie apocalypse film.

"Mrs. Montgomery-Krausse," Miranda said, bristling with authority and confidence, "Shepard had a horrible, tragic night. He will recover. But he needs rest in order to heal. He is going to sleep until it is medically advisable to wake him, and he will receive visitors when it is medically and emotionally advisable for him to receive them. 

"I called you because you are his mother. As such, you are welcome to wait here until the staff directs us to enter Shepard's room. If you try to enter his room before that time, I will personally restrain you and, if necessary, incapacitate you until security guards arrive to take you away. 

"Shepard needs your love and reassurance at the appropriate time. He does not need—and will not be subjected to—your grandstanding, officiousness, overprotective hovering, or interference. I believe you have the mental acuity to comprehend what I am telling you, do you not?"

Hermione Montgomery-Krausse stared at Miranda. Hermione shifted her vintage Chanel handbag from one gloved hand to the other and back again. Her mouth opened as if to speak, then closed. With her lips pressed together, Hermione dropped her eyes from Miranda's face. Then Shepard's mother walked around Miranda and took a seat in one of the uncomfortable waiting-room chairs. Hermione had never seen the zombie apocalypse, but she knew a scary woman when she met one.

Miranda turned to the man in black who accompanied Mrs. Montgomery-Krausse. "Good morning, Hanson."

"Good morning, miss," said Hanson, with rather more energy than he had expended on Miranda in the past. "May I get anything for yourself or for madam?"

"I'm dying for coffee, please. I believe Mrs. Montgomery-Krausse would prefer a cup of tea."

"Right away, miss," said Hanson with a slight bow. He caught the next elevator and left the women alone.

Miranda eased down into her chair. She lowered her chin to her chest and closed her eyes.

Hermione waited, looking straight ahead. After several minutes, she spoke to Miranda without looking her way. "Thank you for telephoning me."

"You love your son," Miranda said weakly. "You needed to know."

Hermione waited, then said, "They truly meant to kill Shepard?"