Shawn: Dad Hasn't Been to Work in Days...
It had been that way for the last few days. Dad started off calling in sick. It was unusual, both to know he was home, but even more to know he wasn't working. Then another day. And then another.
Four days in a row Dad hadn't gone to work. Four Days he stayed in the Master bedroom--Mom and Dad's bedroom. Shawn heard him talking on a muffled, low voice to Mom. A voice of a different person. Maybe a sick person. But even in that muffled voice, it didn't sound like Shawn was used to hearing Dad. He sounded...energetic. Too energetic.
Mom was also acting strange, having forgotten a number of appointments, focusing instead on care taking for Dad. Shawn's acting coach had to call several times this week just to get an appointment to come to the house. Mom hadn't spoke to Shawn about acting, hadn't pressured him to get a movie part and hadn't even mentioned the film industry or his future stardom during the last week and half, well before Dad stopped going to work.
The house itself had an odd atmosphere to it. The kitchen counter was starting to get dirty. An open box of cereal sat next to the kitchen sink, piled high with dishes that were waiting form Mom's hands to wash. In the hallway, the vacuum cleaner was turned over, a job half done, partially blocking the entrance to the dining room.
"Dad's been sick." Bobby noted, staring across at the kitchen table at Shawn, pointing the obvious with a voice that didn't overly worried, but still concerned. Bobby flicked a loose piece of lettuce from the taco dinner two nights ago. It landed on the floor of the kitchen with a silent thud, joining the dried pieces of cheese from the same dinner that had been on the floor as well.