Seconds later, Jon bolted through the front door, struggling to catch his breath.
The TV was on showing the football game, but no one was watching it. He headed into the kitchen...maybe his father had gone to get a beer or something.
"Hello?" He called.
The freezer and refrigerator doors were open, but the door was blocking his view. "Hey," his mother's voice said. It sounded a bit rough. Maybe she was coming down with something. "Just making a snack. Do you want anything?"
"No..." Jon said. "Is...something wrong?" He asked cautiously.
His mother stepped into view from behind the door. Jon looked up at her, and then froze... She had two arms full of food, and was wearing a football jersey. "Like what?"
"Umm...nothing," he lied. Something else was wrong, he just couldn't put his finger on it. He started to back away, into the dining room when it hit him...he hadn't looked up at his mother in a while...he'd outgrown her last year.
He backed into the dining room.
