LITMIR.BIZ

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why are you at Costco today?” Luke asked.

      “We get our…mmm…stuff at Costco. And Ellen lets me…mmm…shop.”

      “Art,” Luke said, “why don’t you buy Netta a hot dog or pizza slice and a cola or something. Sit down. Catch up on the news. I’ll get the rest of my stuff very slowly. Take your time.”

      Art just stared at him.

      Netta took his hand. “Let’s get…mmm…hot dog, Art.”

      “Go on, Art. Get a hot dog. Talk with Netta awhile.”

      Art seemed a little frozen, so Luke turned his laden cart away and walked off quickly, getting out of his space.

      Of course, Art had money, and he managed it very well. Luke would never reach into his pocket and give the man money, especially in front of a woman. Art got a disability check from Social Security, some state aid, and Luke paid him for his work. Art paid Luke a bit for the cabin he used as his home, but no money ever changed hands for things like groceries. Sometimes when Art had a little money left over, he wanted to buy something for Luke or Shelby, and that was all right, but Luke kept it within limits. Art was building a savings account, and when he showed Luke the growing balance, he beamed with pride.

      Luke wasn’t sure about what Netta’s issues were. She didn’t have Down’s; she had a slight hesitation in her speech, not quite a stutter but more an “mmm” while looking for the right word. He thought maybe she was a little slow, but wasn’t entirely sure about how disabled. Yet she must have some disability if she’d been in a group home with Art.

      But how unexpected—Art had had a girlfriend. Luke thought he might’ve mentioned someone named Netta, but surely no more than once. He hadn’t been pining or anything.

      There was a fast-food area in the front of the store, on the other side of the checkout lanes, so Luke steered clear of it. He wasted a good half hour looking at cameras. What the hell—the baby was coming soon and he needed a better camera. By the time he was done, he had a video camera, a digital still camera, a large-screen laptop and a color printer to go with it. He probably should have talked to Shelby about that first, but he was still being trained as a husband. Fortunately, Shelby was very patient with him.

      He went to the back of the store and quickly grabbed the meat, produce and veggies he had mentally planned to buy. Time to check out.

      Once again, he didn’t see Art anywhere.

      Lord, this was getting ridiculous. He’d never had this problem with Art before. Luke looked all around the fast-food area and Art was definitely not there. He’d have to look around the whole warehouse again. First, he decided, he’d put his groceries in the truck, then go back inside in search of Art.

      But when he got outside, Art was standing there, staring into the massive parking lot. “Well, hey, I was wondering where you were. Did you have a nice visit with Netta?”

      Art turned abruptly. He looked a little shell-shocked. “She was my girlfriend.”

      “So you said,” Luke observed. “Come on, let’s put this stuff in the truck. Did you have a nice visit?”

      “She left. She had to go with that person, Ellen. Where she lives now.”

      “But did you have a nice visit?”

      “She was my girlfriend,” Art said again. “I didn’t see her in a long time.”

      “Right,” Luke said. Apparently he wasn’t going to get an answer to the question about whether they’d had a nice visit. “Help load up, will you, buddy?”

      Art did as he’d been asked, but the whole while he mumbled and fidgeted. He was extremely upset, that much was obvious, and Luke quickly learned why. They had barely left the parking lot when Art said, “I have to go to Costco. Back to Costco.”

      “In a couple of weeks, Art.”

      “Now! I have to go now!”

      “Forget something?” Luke asked.

      “She could come to Costco. Netta could come and I could be there, too—I didn’t see her in a long time! I can be there if she comes back. She shops there!”

      Since they hadn’t driven far, Luke turned into a parking lot and stopped the truck. “She left, Art. Did you get her phone number or address or anything?”

      “No,” he said, his voice thick. “All of a sudden the woman Ellen came and said time to go. And all of a sudden Netta said goodbye. I have to go back.”

      “No going back today, buddy. Just like us, she’s not going to be shopping for a couple of weeks, I bet. You know her last name at least?”

      “Blue,” he said. “Netta Blue.” Then, with watery eyes, he stared at Luke and in a plaintive voice he just said, “Luke!”

      Luke felt his heart drop. The poor guy. Art might not know much, but he sure knew when his heart hurt. Netta Blue, his onetime girlfriend, gone. He’d barely seen her after a separation and whoosh, she was gone again. He was desperate to see more of her, but did she want to see more of him? And how would her caretaker, Ellen, feel about a Down syndrome man hanging around Netta? This was going to instantly get bigger than Luke was. Lately he felt like everything was bigger than he was.

      “Now, calm down, Art,” he said. “I’ll help you find her. We have to go home first. Netta has gone home, too. We’ll go home, and then we’ll see if we can find her later.”

      “Okay, Luke,” Art said thickly.

      Luke stroked his arm. “Don’t worry, okay? It’s going to be all right. How many bakeries can there be in Fortuna?”

      “I don’t know that answer,” Art said miserably.

      “I didn’t need an answer, buddy. I just meant, we’ll find her, so don’t worry.”

      He sniffed. “Okay, Luke.”

      By the time Luke and Art got home, Art seemed much calmer. He had stopped mumbling and talking to himself and he was back to responding in his easygoing, good-natured way. But Luke was a little shook up, maybe a little afraid Art would take off for Costco. After all, that’s how Art came to be living with Luke—his caretaker had hit him and Art had run away, preferring homelessness to abuse. For someone who couldn’t always think for himself, Art had certainly made a decision there.

      Luke said, “I’m going to put the groceries away, Art. Go fish for one hour, then come to the house.”

      “Okay,” Art agreed.

      “Look at your watch and remember, one hour. Shelby will be looking for you.”

      “One hour,” he agreed.

      Luke stored all the extra paper and cleaning products for the cabins in the shed, then took the groceries into the house very quietly. Just as he expected, the bedroom door was pulled almost closed. Shelby could be lying down with her feet up for a little while or she could be asleep. When she didn’t emerge from their bedroom after all the groceries had been stored, he crept out of the house. It was in his mind to make sure Art was fishing, but the door to Aiden’s room stood open to catch the June breeze and he saw Aiden sitting inside, his laptop open on the table in front of him.

      He gave a couple of taps. “Hey. You back from today’s trek?”

      “I just went over to the coast to walk along the beach for a few hours,” Aiden answered without looking up.

      “Got a minute?” Luke asked. “Because I have a situation…”

      Aiden sat back with an impatient sigh. “Look, Mom’s going to be just fine—”

      “Not Mom,” he said, walking into the cabin. He sat down at the table opposite Aiden, and his brother slowly closed the laptop between them. “It’s Art. I have something going on with Art. And I need someone smarter

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