What's Wrong with Caleb? - Part 2

Hello Friday Fiction Fans,
We have a frost this morning, but it's not heavy and we wet our bushes so they wouldn't get killed. The sun is coming up in a clear sky and everything looks still and quite. After the strong winds we've had the last few days, no wind is really nice!

Don't blame me if I didn't get much written this week. :P I've only had two evenings so far that I could write and last evening I was visiting with the Graham Quartet. If there are any questions you would like answered, let me know and I'll ask. :)
But, just so you know, I did start writing TCR-6 on Tuesday! I didn't get very far, but I did start. If you have any ideas, suggestions or things you would like to see in the TCR books, let me know ASAP as I'm still looking for ideas for this book. Right now I have no idea when it will be finished as we are getting into the craziness of homeschool conferences and babysitting my nieces and nephews more and for longer times.
And have I mentioned that I've been busy designing covers for a certain two books? (Check the Read Another Page blog on Tuesday to see the finished results!) And now I have a collection of short stories that I'm putting together to give to all those who sign up on my e-mail list.

Here is the next part of this story. Like I said before, I had fun showing this emotion, so it is a bit overdone. :)

What's Wrong with Caleb?

Part 2

    Robert looked at his cousin with raised eyebrows. Then, stepping in, he pushed the door shut behind him. “Weren’t paying attention to someone pounding on your door? That’s the third time this has happened this week. Come on, Caleb, what’s going on?”
    Before he answered, Caleb reached around Robert and turned the lock on the door. “Come on in. Pizza’s about done.” He turned quickly and slammed his hip into the corner of a table he used to hold his briefcase. “Ow!” The exclamation escaped involuntarily and his hand went to his hip.
    “You okay?”
    “Yeah. I should move that thing.”
    The lights were on in the kitchen, but the curtains were drawn tightly shut, a fact that Robert noticed with a puzzled frown. His cousin rarely closed his curtains, even at night.
    Caleb noticed the frown and pulled two glasses from the cabinet. “The neighbors got a puppy and he howls if he sees light.” He gave a half hearted laugh. “Tough being a dog, I guess.” Having filled the glasses with ice water, he carried them over to the table. He could feel his hands trembling and rushed to set the glasses down before his cousin noticed. In his hurry he didn’t watch where he was going and half tripped over a chair.
    With an ejaculation of shock, Robert sprang from his seat, his shirt soaked with ice water.
    “I’m so sorry!” Caleb exclaimed, fumbling around for a towel. “That chair–I didn’t see it . . .” Running his fingers through his light hair, he stumbled over his words. “Should have dumped ‘em on me.”
    Looking up from a futile attempt to dry his shirt with another towel, Robert spoke. “What’s wrong with you, Caleb?”
    “Nothing. Just a little warm.” He could feel the heat of his face and turned quickly away. “The pizza. Stove–makes the kitchen hot. Go find one of my shirts.”
    “Huh! Have I shrunk?”
    Caleb knew he’d blundered again. His cousin was several sizes larger than he was and always had been. “Ah, um, I meant–never mind. You want to get the pizza? I’ll clean up the floor.”
    “Sure.”
    As he mopped up the water, Caleb tried to calm down. “Just take a deep breath. You’ve got this.”
    “You talking to me?”
    Caleb jumped. “What?”
    “Man, Caleb, what’s with you tonight? You’re as fidgety as Leah is when she’s been up to some mischief.” Robert brought two plates to the table and then carried over the pan of steaming pizza.
    After tossing the towel he had used across the room, Caleb sank into his chair and reached for his water glass. “Um, I should–”
    “Sit. I got this.” And Robert carried the glasses to the sink for refills. Returning to the table, he sat down and bowed his head. “Father, thank you for this food and this time. Bless both, I ask. And, Father, I don’t know what’s going on with my cousin, but help me know how to help him. Thank you. In Jesus name, Amen.”
    The kitchen was silent as the cousins focused on their supper. Only the ticking of the clock hanging on the wall broke the stillness.
    Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock.
    “Caleb?”
    “Hmm.”
    “What’s really going on?”
    Not looking at his cousin, Caleb reached for another piece of pizza. “Nothing. I’m just hungry. Didn’t eat much lunch today. What about you? Did you actually talk to Shannon’s father?”
    “I did.”
    “And what did he say?”
    “He said he’d get back to me this weekend.”
    “Nervous?”
    “Some.”
    Tick, tock. Tick tock.
    Silence again pervaded the kitchen.
    “Caleb, are you going to tell me what’s going on, or am I going to have to pry it out of you?”
    “What’s to tell?”
    “I don’t know, that why I’m asking. You haven’t been yourself all week, and tonight is the limit!”
    “Actually the whole day was,” Caleb muttered, his mouth full of pizza. It was not his intent that Robert should hear him, much less understand him, but he did.
    “So, this entire day was off?”
    When he took a drink, his hand shook, splashing water down his front. “Guess I should go change my shirt.”
    “Nope. Nothing doing. Sit.” Robert ordered, catching Caleb’s arm and almost forcing him back into his seat. “You said you were hot. A little water won’t hurt you. It hasn’t hurt me.” And Robert glanced down at his own soaked shirt.
    “You’re right,” Caleb conceded. “Water doesn’t stain. Are you finished?”
    “No.”
    “Okay, I’ll just take care of the dishes and–”
    “I said I wasn’t done! Caleb, if you don’t loosen up and tell me what’s going on, I’m calling Dad.”
    “Sorry. Thought you said you were finished.”
    Robert glared in answer, his mouth full.
    Not feeling hungry, Caleb sat fidgeting, shifting around in his seat, picking up imaginary crumbs and putting them on his plate. He tugged at the neckline of his shirt and fumbled with it as though trying to find a button to undo. His eyes darted around the room, carefully avoiding one corner of the counter where the pile of mail still sat.

What is going on?

Are you more excited about the next Graham Quartet or TCR-6?

Will you be on Read Another Page on Tuesday?

I hope so because I can't wait to show you!