Moving Out

-Caleb-

“How is your steak, Caleb?” Hank asked as we sat outside on the deck. Hank was grilling steaks, and of course, my mother had made side dishes.

I must have looked pretty doom and gloom because Hank was frowning at me. “Steak’s great,” I said, trying to insert some enthusiasm into my response.

The truth was, I hadn’t slept more than a couple of hours in the last week because of nightmares. I was exhausted, I wasn’t getting any, and the work search wasn’t fantastic. Mainly because I had to hide it from my employer, Hank, and my mother.

“Good. I’m kind of a grill master myself,” Hank beamed. He cocked his head. “But you do look a bit… worn.”