Dinner that night was a quiet affair. Joe hadn't said a word since Frank's revelation upstairs. All he could think was that maybe he had gone too far. Should he have told Frank about the request? No. Frank would never have considered investigating the matter and there was no way he would ever have accepted Joe's plan for getting in the Wesley Lane Smith Foundation in Bridgeport.
"Here you go, baby," Laura said as she set a plate in front of him.
Joe's stomach rolled as the aroma from the plate reached his nostrils. He was so hungry he could faint but he was way too close to cave in now.
"You will eat everything on your plate before you leave this table," Fenton ordered him.
Joe bristled at the tone. His dad was talking to him like he was a criminal! "I can't eat all of this!" Joe objected, his eyes widening.
"Actually, that might be pushing it," Frank put in looking at the amount of food on Joe's plate. "If he eats too much to start with he might get sick without help."
Joe's eyes lit up and he started eating; not observing the sly look Frank shot his mother as his father smothered a smile and began eating his own dinner.
Joe finished his meal and laid his fork down. "May I be excused now?" he asked.
"Me too?" asked Frank, setting his fork down also although he hadn't really finished.
"You may," Fenton agreed.
"Want to play that game we never did before dinner?" asked Frank.
Joe shook his head. "I have homework."
"It's Friday," Frank objected with a frown. Joe never did homework on a weekend before Sunday night!
Joe shrugged. "Might as well get it over with," he said, going into his room with Frank on his heels. "Look, would you please just give me a little time alone?" he pleaded. Frank shook his head. "I'll leave the door open and the one to the bathroom," he tried to compromise.
"Sorry, Joe," Frank replied with a firm shake of his head. "Either I dog you or Dad will," he continued. "Your choice."
Joe rolled his eyes but didn't say another word. He picked up his backpack and put it on his bed and pulled out his books. Frank took a book from one of Joe's bookcases and sat down in a chair in the corner of the room.
"Bed time," said Laura entering the room some time later. "Joseph, honey," she continued, her voice a bit hesitant as she began to say something she had to say but didn't really want too. "We need to take your blood pressure and weigh you."
Joe allowed himself to be checked by his family then he got ready for bed. When he and Frank exited the bathroom he saw the folding bed had been set up between his bed and the bathroom.
"Is this really necessary?" demanded Joe. "I took my vitamin and ate my dinner. I even let you weigh me. I'm trying to get better," he fibbed.
"Joe, we wish it were that easy," Laura said. "But we know you only ate your dinner because Frank tricked you."
"What?" Joe gasped, turning to glare at him.
Frank shrugged. "You ate dinner yesterday and didn't get sick until you made yourself throw up," he explained. "So there was no reason why you would get sick tonight."
Without another word Joe climbed in his bed and pulled the covers up. He turned his back on his mom and brother and shut his eyes.
********************************************************
Frank jerked to a sitting position, his eyes focusing quickly on the light streaming from beneath the bathroom door. "Blast it!" he hissed, jumping out of bed. He grabbed the knob on the bathroom door and turned it as he pushed it open. He saw Joe straighten up and wipe his mouth then turn to look at him.
Frank leaned against the doorframe, his eyes bright as he looked into the surprised eyes of his little brother. Frank swallowed but didn't say anything and after a minute of silence with neither boy looking away, Frank turned and went back to bed.
**************************************
The next morning when Joe came downstairs Frank had already informed his parents of Joe's nocturnal activities. After his vitamin, weigh-in and blood pressure check, he had a piece of toast for breakfast and a glass of water. One more weigh-in and then the boys left to meet their friends at the Museum of Arts; a trip they had planned via e-mail over the summer.
"Fenton, what are we going to do?" Laura asked her husband as she stood at the window and watched them leave.
"Keep trying," he replied, pulling her back into him and wrapping his arms around her. He buried his head in her hair, needing her strength as much as she needed his. "He'll get better. He has too," he whispered fiercely.
*********************************
Vanessa let out a relieved sigh when she saw Joe get out of the van. She had become even more worried about him after he had canceled their date the previous evening. "You made it!" she exclaimed, going over and kissing his cheek lightly.
Joe shivered at the contact. "Yeah," he said. "As long as Frank is with me, mom and dad will let me have a little freedom."
"This is going to be fun," Callie said brightly. "I'm glad we are doing this." She giggled. "I found out Mr. Kincaid is going o send his history class here and have us do a report for extra credit."
"How did you find that out?" Frank inquired in surprise.
"Stacey overheard him and Mrs. Hash talking about it yesterday after school," Callie answered, leaning up and kissing him soundly.
"Cut it out, you two," Phil growled good-naturedly as he and Chet joined the group. "Let's get going," he said. "I'm dying to check out the new exhibit in the west wing."
The teens paid their admission and entered the museum. Joe walked along with his brother and friends, his attention straying from their conversation. At first, he was fascinated by the vast array of splendor presented in the early Chinese exhibit in the west wing but as time wore on, he lost interest.
"What do you think?" Vanessa asked, touching his arm.
"Excuse me?" asked Joe. He hadn't been listening and was taken completely off guard.
"About the depiction on the rug?" Frank filled him in with a frown.
"What rug?" Joe asked looking down.
"Joe..." Frank began, worried because the rug was on the wall right in front of them.
"I need to go to the restroom," Joe said before Frank could continue. "I'll be back in a bit."
"Me too," put in Chet, figuring Frank could use a little break.
"I don't need a babysitter!" Joe screamed. Before Chet could recover from the outburst, Joe had taken off at a run.
"Joe!" Frank shouted and took off after him, coming to an abrupt halt as he rounded the corner and saw his brother lying in a crumpled heap only a few feet away.
"Here you go, baby," Laura said as she set a plate in front of him.
Joe's stomach rolled as the aroma from the plate reached his nostrils. He was so hungry he could faint but he was way too close to cave in now.
"You will eat everything on your plate before you leave this table," Fenton ordered him.
Joe bristled at the tone. His dad was talking to him like he was a criminal! "I can't eat all of this!" Joe objected, his eyes widening.
"Actually, that might be pushing it," Frank put in looking at the amount of food on Joe's plate. "If he eats too much to start with he might get sick without help."
Joe's eyes lit up and he started eating; not observing the sly look Frank shot his mother as his father smothered a smile and began eating his own dinner.
Joe finished his meal and laid his fork down. "May I be excused now?" he asked.
"Me too?" asked Frank, setting his fork down also although he hadn't really finished.
"You may," Fenton agreed.
"Want to play that game we never did before dinner?" asked Frank.
Joe shook his head. "I have homework."
"It's Friday," Frank objected with a frown. Joe never did homework on a weekend before Sunday night!
Joe shrugged. "Might as well get it over with," he said, going into his room with Frank on his heels. "Look, would you please just give me a little time alone?" he pleaded. Frank shook his head. "I'll leave the door open and the one to the bathroom," he tried to compromise.
"Sorry, Joe," Frank replied with a firm shake of his head. "Either I dog you or Dad will," he continued. "Your choice."
Joe rolled his eyes but didn't say another word. He picked up his backpack and put it on his bed and pulled out his books. Frank took a book from one of Joe's bookcases and sat down in a chair in the corner of the room.
"Bed time," said Laura entering the room some time later. "Joseph, honey," she continued, her voice a bit hesitant as she began to say something she had to say but didn't really want too. "We need to take your blood pressure and weigh you."
Joe allowed himself to be checked by his family then he got ready for bed. When he and Frank exited the bathroom he saw the folding bed had been set up between his bed and the bathroom.
"Is this really necessary?" demanded Joe. "I took my vitamin and ate my dinner. I even let you weigh me. I'm trying to get better," he fibbed.
"Joe, we wish it were that easy," Laura said. "But we know you only ate your dinner because Frank tricked you."
"What?" Joe gasped, turning to glare at him.
Frank shrugged. "You ate dinner yesterday and didn't get sick until you made yourself throw up," he explained. "So there was no reason why you would get sick tonight."
Without another word Joe climbed in his bed and pulled the covers up. He turned his back on his mom and brother and shut his eyes.
********************************************************
Frank jerked to a sitting position, his eyes focusing quickly on the light streaming from beneath the bathroom door. "Blast it!" he hissed, jumping out of bed. He grabbed the knob on the bathroom door and turned it as he pushed it open. He saw Joe straighten up and wipe his mouth then turn to look at him.
Frank leaned against the doorframe, his eyes bright as he looked into the surprised eyes of his little brother. Frank swallowed but didn't say anything and after a minute of silence with neither boy looking away, Frank turned and went back to bed.
**************************************
The next morning when Joe came downstairs Frank had already informed his parents of Joe's nocturnal activities. After his vitamin, weigh-in and blood pressure check, he had a piece of toast for breakfast and a glass of water. One more weigh-in and then the boys left to meet their friends at the Museum of Arts; a trip they had planned via e-mail over the summer.
"Fenton, what are we going to do?" Laura asked her husband as she stood at the window and watched them leave.
"Keep trying," he replied, pulling her back into him and wrapping his arms around her. He buried his head in her hair, needing her strength as much as she needed his. "He'll get better. He has too," he whispered fiercely.
*********************************
Vanessa let out a relieved sigh when she saw Joe get out of the van. She had become even more worried about him after he had canceled their date the previous evening. "You made it!" she exclaimed, going over and kissing his cheek lightly.
Joe shivered at the contact. "Yeah," he said. "As long as Frank is with me, mom and dad will let me have a little freedom."
"This is going to be fun," Callie said brightly. "I'm glad we are doing this." She giggled. "I found out Mr. Kincaid is going o send his history class here and have us do a report for extra credit."
"How did you find that out?" Frank inquired in surprise.
"Stacey overheard him and Mrs. Hash talking about it yesterday after school," Callie answered, leaning up and kissing him soundly.
"Cut it out, you two," Phil growled good-naturedly as he and Chet joined the group. "Let's get going," he said. "I'm dying to check out the new exhibit in the west wing."
The teens paid their admission and entered the museum. Joe walked along with his brother and friends, his attention straying from their conversation. At first, he was fascinated by the vast array of splendor presented in the early Chinese exhibit in the west wing but as time wore on, he lost interest.
"What do you think?" Vanessa asked, touching his arm.
"Excuse me?" asked Joe. He hadn't been listening and was taken completely off guard.
"About the depiction on the rug?" Frank filled him in with a frown.
"What rug?" Joe asked looking down.
"Joe..." Frank began, worried because the rug was on the wall right in front of them.
"I need to go to the restroom," Joe said before Frank could continue. "I'll be back in a bit."
"Me too," put in Chet, figuring Frank could use a little break.
"I don't need a babysitter!" Joe screamed. Before Chet could recover from the outburst, Joe had taken off at a run.
"Joe!" Frank shouted and took off after him, coming to an abrupt halt as he rounded the corner and saw his brother lying in a crumpled heap only a few feet away.