In Loving Memory, Frank Warren

Chapter 11: Hell aka Meeting Mom

"Mom!" Dean spun away, rubbing his hands against his suit coat as if they were coated with grime.

Missus Smith took Frank's hand in a firm handshake. "It's always good to meet another of Dean's friends, dear."

Dear. Frank liked her already.

Sticking out her cheek she tapped it. Dean leaned over to give her a quick peck.

"Much better. Now what do I owe this special treat? My favorite steak house? It's not my birthday or Mother's Day. Did you quit your job?"

It was impossible to tell if she was kidding, her facial expression gave nothing away. She simply looked and sounded pleasant. From her tone she could have been asking if they had seen any good movies lately.

"Are we there?" Frank asked, peering up at the brick wall he had been leaning against. Bubba's BBQ Shack. It did not sound like a steak house.

"One more block," Dean replied with a worried glance, "if you're up to it."

"Sure, no problem." Frank felt he could follow Dean's mother anywhere she wanted to go.

"You're sure," Dean demanded, brow furrowing and eyes narrowed. "You almost passed out."

"I'm fine." Frank spun on his toe, showing off his balance and poise. "See?"

"He looks fine now, dear," Missus Smith declared in the way mothers with the final authority always can. She slid her hand into the crook of her son's arm. "Let's go."

With a wary glance in his direction, Dean headed down the block with his mother. Feeling only slightly light headed, Frank followed close enough to listen in on their conversation.

"Your call was a real surprise, Dean. I wasn't expecting dinner for at least another week," she said. "Especially after our lunch."

Lunch? When had they gone out for lunch? Was Dean hiding flight plans from him? Now this was intolerable. Sure Dean could go to lunch with his mother, whatever, but not without a scheduled flight. He was worried about what his mother would think? He needed to be worried about what Frank thought. They needed to have a huge fight after dinner.

"Have you been eating well? You look thin. You should eat more, dear."

Dean stopped in front of one of the nicer steak houses, the kind where you needed a reservation. He held the door open first for his mother and then for Frank.

"Really pulling out all the stops," Frank whispered as he walked through the door.

"Better believe it," Dean replied in an undertone, "gotta pave the road to hell."

There was no point in arguing now. They were seated right away, something which never happened at the restaurants Frank went to. If he was willing to pay an outrageous sum of money on one meal they would give him real service, huh? Nah, he would rather stay home and have it delivered.

Their host seated them, a table with place settings for four. Dean and his mother sat opposite each other leaving Frank the option of either sitting next to Dean or across and next to Dean's mother. His choice was obvious, he seated himself next to his lover. A great perk of his decision was he would be able to watch and judge Missus Smith's reactions for himself.

The instant they were seated a waiter arrived to take their drink orders, wine all around. Then they were alone. Alone with Dean's mother.

The instant the uncertainty set in, when Dean's knee started to bounce under the table and he fiddled with his cloth napkin, Frank knew this would not happen without a little prodding. Scooting his chair closer he reached under the table to rest his hand on Dean's knee. Its bouncing shuddered to a stop.