The Boy in the Woods (2014 Wattys Winner, Wattpad Version)

Chapter 3 - Tears On My Pillow

The next thing Jess knew, a hand was stroking her hair and a woman was calling her name.  She lifted her head and rubbed the dried remains of tears from her eyes.  Annie was lit by the lamp on the bedside table.

"It's time for dinner, Jess," she said gently, taking her parent's wedding picture off the bed and setting it on the table.

"Oh, okay," she said, blinking and looking around.  It was already dark outside.  How long had she been asleep?

"Why don't you wash your face and comb your hair before you come downstairs," she suggested kindly.

"Alright," she replied, and Annie left, closing the door softly behind her.

When Jess looked in the bathroom mirror, her bangs sticking straight up, and her face was pale making her freckles stand out even more.  Worst of all, her brown eyes were red-rimmed.  She looked a mess and it was obvious she'd been crying.    

Rubbing her face with a wet washcloth, she tried to scrub some color into her skin, then brushed her hair.  When she was as presentable as she was going to be, she went downstairs.  The overhead light was on, making the window at the end of the hallway especially black.  It was unsettling.  Back home in Manhattan, it was never completely dark outside.  As she walked down the quiet stairs, she tried to push the thoughts out of her head of who, or what, might be watching her from the other side of the glass.  

When she stepped into the dining room, Uncle Jonathon and Douglas were already seated at the table.  Dishes were placed between them filled with ham slices, mashed potatoes, lima beans and bread rolls, but their plates were empty.  By the expression on her uncle's face, she knew she was in trouble. 

"We were waiting for you!" he barked angrily, his voice echoing in the room. 

"I'm sorry," she murmured, and slid into a seat on his right, across from Douglas. 

"It's rude to keep people waiting.  I don't want this to become a habit, do you understand?" 

"Yes, sir," she said, bowing her head while she placed her napkin in her lap, her face burning with shame. 

Douglas handed his plate to his father.  Jess glanced at him but he ignored her, watching Uncle Jonathon fill it with food.  She dropped her eyes to her own plate.

"Jessica!" 

She looked up at her uncle.  He had his hand out and she quickly handed him her plate.  She was dismayed to see the number of lima beans he put on it.  She hated lima beans.  Back home everyone served themselves and her mom never made her eat the foods she didn't like.  She knew Uncle Jonathon expected her to eat all of them.  There was no use even asking.  As she picked up her fork, she looked around the table at the empty seven chairs.

"I spoke with Quincy about the steam shovels that were giving us trouble last fall," Uncle Jonathon said, getting Jess's attention.  "He thinks the repairs worked.  They're holding up fine so far."

"That's good," Douglas replied easily as he dug into his food.  "Maybe we can get another year out of them before we have to replace them."  They continued their conversation about mining machinery while she concentrated on making sure each nasty lima bean had a bite of ham or mashed potatoes to help it go down. 

While she chewed, she stole glances at Douglas.  He never once looked in her direction, or even acted as if she was there.  Instead, he seemed completely engrossed in the conversation with his dad.  She was surprised he wasn't bored to death discussing the details of iron ore mining, but it made sense.  He'd need to know everything about it if he was going to be taking over the family business.