“Are they here now?”
“They’re here. You ready to come say hello?”
He stood up nervously and rubbed his palms down his trousers. He nodded too vigorously.
“What’s the matter? It’s just Sean and my mother. You know Sean. You got along fine. You worried about something?”
He shook his head forcefully. Luke stepped toward him. “Look, you’re shook up about something. What’s got you so upset?”
“Nothing. I had a shower. I didn’t eat sandwiches, like you said.”
Luke smiled. Art loved his bologna sandwiches. “You look great. I just wanted you to be hungry for dinner and you wouldn’t be if you filled up on sandwiches. You’ll have some steak with us.”
“Steak is hard. I had it. I don’t work the knife that good because I didn’t use it that much, and steak gets too big for my mouth. My head’s big but my mouth is small, that’s what Stan said.”
“You worried about that?” Luke asked, smiling. “I’ll help with that. You’ll work the knife fine—you do everything else with tools just fine. We’ll get the steak small enough for your mouth. By the way, I don’t buy that, that your mouth is small. I listen to you all day long, and I wouldn’t call it a small mouth. Come on, you’re the first person my mother asked about.”
“My mother’s gone now,” he said.
“I know, Art. You’ll like my mother. She’ll like you.”
“I’m not like everyone else.”
“I told her you had Down syndrome, Art. She knows all about that. We had a good friend with Down’s growing up—you’re not going to disappoint anyone. You’re perfect. She’ll like you very much.”
“You think?” he asked.
“Is that what you’re worried about? Aw, it’s going to be fine—my mother is a very nice person. To people other than her sons, anyway. Come on, let’s get on with this so you can settle down. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you nervous. You act like you’re scared.”
“I had a shower,” he said. “And didn’t eat the sandwiches. One, I had one.”
“It’s okay.” Luke laughed. “Were you hungry? Because around here you eat when you’re hungry. You don’t get in trouble for that.”
“I know,” he said. “I know.” And he twisted his hands.
“Jesus, we better get this over with,” Luke said. “She’s not the queen of England. Calm down.”
Art moved slowly. As Luke walked to his house, he had to pause and wait for Art several times and it was not far. By the time he opened the door to his house, his mother and Sean were working their way into the wine.
“Well, hello,” Maureen said brightly. “You must be Art.”
Art stood just inside the door, looked down at the floor and nodded.
“Then come in. I’m so happy to finally meet you. I hope you’re hungry—I think we’re going to a place called Jack’s.”
Luke shot a glance at Sean and scowled. This could really screw up his plan to have his relationship with Shelby appear casual. Sean shrugged and glanced away.
“I like Jack,” Art said tremulously.
“I have steaks,” Luke said. “I thought we’d stay in.”
Maureen came out of the kitchen and went to Art. “Steaks will keep—we want to do the town. Are you a little shy, Art?” she asked him softly.
He nodded, but not quite so ferociously.
“Well, you don’t have to be shy with me, because I’ve been looking forward to meeting you. And I hear you’ve been a big help to Luke.”
Art lifted his eyes and said, “You’re not the queen of England.”
Maureen gave Luke a withering stare from narrowed eyes, something she had perfected by the time he was seven. It was that warning glance. The boys called it the “don’t fuck with me” look, but Maureen had never in her life uttered that word.
“But I almost am, Art, so I trust you to be very sweet and nice.”
He nodded.
“Of course you will,” she said. “Now, do you have a handshake or hug for Luke’s mother?”
He just stood there, uncertain. Maureen wrapped her arms around him, pulled him close and rocked him. “Ah, yes. So wonderful of you to help Luke. So wonderful to meet you.”
When she released him, he said, “My mother’s gone now.”
“Is she dead, Art?” Maureen asked gently. And he nodded. “Then I’m so sorry. And you must need a mother’s hug even more.” She grinned. “Let’s have another.” And he freed up his arms to hug her back.