Chapter 5
Jolie—aged eighteen
Today, Nessie was up before the sun peeped through the window, and she wanted me up, too. She pulled me down the stairs two at a time, anticipating a fun day.
A melody came from the kitchen—a catchy tune from a popular animation.
Nessie dragged me to the boy humming it. We stopped in the doorway. His back was to us, fully clothed in garments that hung on his bones. He took a sip of whatever drink he was making, and a cough that he almost didn’t catch fell from his mouth.
“Woody?” Nessie’s question floated in the air as she moved a single step forward, her hand still in mine.
He turned around, looking somehow more somber today.
His pale skin sank into his bones as he said, “Sorry to disappoint, Ness. It’s just me.”
Woodrow took another sip of the juice he’d poured. The straw settled between his lips, drawing my eyes to them.
“Do you want some breakfast?” he asked, putting the beaker that was so obviously Nessie’s aside.
“No. Maybe just a snack.” She let go of my hand to examine the food cupboards. I didn’t follow even as she asked, “What shall we have, Jolie?”
My stomach rumbled as she pulled out a disappointing choice of cookies.
“That’s not breakfast, Ness.” Woodrow encouraged a healthy, more appealing meal, and I silently agreed, hoping she’d follow his lead, but she didn’t.
“Momma isn’t up.”
“I’ll make you breakfast.”
“No. Cookies are fine. We’ll share.” She looked over to me, her signature smile on her face. Closing the cupboard door, she brought the packet along.
“Do you want something other than cookies?” Woodrow’s eyes were on me as he worded his question.
But I wouldn’t request an alternative. I was just grateful I got to eat.
“I’m good. Thank you.”
Nessie weaved her fingers through mine. She was ready to leave—ready for a whole day of fun, as she had told me.
“Thank you, for yesterday. Last night.” Woodrow smiled, somehow more enchanting than his little sister.
“You’re welcome.” I was halfway out through the hallway when I stopped. Calling back, I asked, “Which did you prefer?”
He paused, enjoying my attention on him. “Chocolate. Always chocolate.” His smile grew.
And mine grew, too. “Are you coming out?” I remembered Wynter’s words about her son needing a friend, but that wasn’t why I asked.
“He’s not as much fun as Woody.” Nessie shook her head and laughed, pulling my arm to guide me towards the door.
“Maybe today we could try a new game?” I suggested, a shrug lifting my shoulders.
“Maybe.”
“Maybe we should leave you inside, and Jolie and I can have a little fun of our own.”
My head snapped to Woodrow’s words. His pretty eyes winked at me, letting me know he was no more than joking.
“No way!” Nessie screeched, not understanding her brother’s cheekiness.
The ceiling rattled, stomping feet moved around a bedroom above. Noises I hadn’t previously heard, cursing and muffled agitation yelled from one corner to another, echoed from the same room.
“I tell you what, we’ll play hide and go seek. You guys run and hide. I’ll make Momma a coffee; it sounds like she’s gonna need it, and I’ll be right out. I’ll come find you, and whoever I find first, gets the other one’s chore tonight.”
“I don’t have chores. I’m too little. Too special, Momma says,” Nessie answered her brother, dread on her face over the idea of chores.
“Well, if I find you first, you’ll get mine, and I get lots of chores.”
God, I hope he wouldn’t find me first. . . because, I too, had lots of chores.
Nessie rushed out, slipping from my grip.
She took a minute, close to an actual minute, struggling to unlock the door at her small height.
I used this time to ask Woodrow if he was okay.
He told me he was, but his smile said otherwise—I knew an exaggerated expression these days.
And his eyes and the look they gave me, told me he was a bare-faced liar.
But I didn’t pry.
“Good luck,” I said, drifting farther down the narrow hallway. I looked around, wondering why such a big house had such a narrow hallway before my eyes landed back on him. “Don’t leave us out there all night.”
“I’ll find you within the hour.” He looked at the watch on his wrist—a watch that wasn’t there yesterday. A watch that he probably wouldn’t have been able to read yesterday.
Nessie was off in the distance, dirt between her toes as she rushed for the thick waft of forestry this land hosted. I watched her with a second of amusement, knowing my strong legs would catch up soon.
As I thought, it didn’t take me long to catch up, but not long after, I lost Nessie to the shadows of a million oak trees.
I only blinked, and she was gone; the sound of her feet crunching on twigs took her farther away into a direction not visible to me.
I moved in any direction my feet would take me, having no idea where I was going as I stared up at the giant trees as much as I did the unmarked path ahead of me.
I settled deep in the woods, unsure of how much further of this land I could traverse without trespassing on another’s property. My legs didn’t ache, my breaths didn’t rasp. I was used to running, skilled and quick.
There was no sight of another house or the sound of another human.
This place was dead and alive all at once.
Nature was thriving; the birds above, singing happy songs of love to their companions were the only sounds in my ears.
I listened with a smile on my face, one not forced, as I appreciated the beauty of something as simple as birds tweeting merrily above me.
Has it been an hour yet? I wondered to myself, sitting in the glooming of the forestry, my only company was the trees and the creatures who lived in them, who had chosen to keep their distance.
Time was ticking on. The day grew warmer as minutes or hours passed.
Today was a great day for the sundress I was wearing—another gifted by Wynter.
The floaty fabric was more lenient on my curves than her sweatsuits.
Georgia was hot like sunny California, the state where I’d grown from a toddler to a child to the woman I was now. Still humid in these heavy autumn months, but the slight chill that the concealment of trees offered, had me craving hot chocolate and warm blankets.
Sunlight pierced through the gaps between the leafy tree branches, and I tried to edge myself under the sun’s spotlight without making a sound.
I looked around the dimly lit space, wondering where in this huge space would I find a small child. . . and when I realized I wouldn’t, I wondered how would Woodrow.
Would he sense her? Could siblings feel a pull to one another? As an only child, I didn’t know those answers.
I raised to my feet; my bum was numb from sitting on it so damn long.
I figured I’d head back. Turning on my heel to do just that, I stepped straight into Woodrow, my head hitting his bony chest, so hard, I saw stars, and not the ones falling from the morning sky.
I blinked twice, praying I wasn’t concussed.
“Fifty-eight minutes.” He smiled. “Close, but within my hour.”
“Did you find Nessie?”
“I haven’t looked,” he whispered, struggling with the words. “Just you. I just looked for you.”
“So, I could do your chores?”
He laughed and it hurt him. I saw the adjustment he made to soothe it before diverting my eyes to his.
“If we left it to Nessie they’d never get done.” He slumped against a tree probably centuries older than his ancient home, his spine surely scraping the thick trunk.
“Okay. . . well, we can find your sister together. Two pairs of eyes are better than one.”
I turned to lead the way, but he clasped my hand in his long fingers. My gaze dropped to where we joined and another smile spread onto my lips; this one, somewhere between false and real.
“We won’t find her quickly. I never do. She’s small; she fits in tiny spaces, animal burrows and stuff.”
“She isn’t that small.” I laughed, really laughed, because what he said, couldn’t possibly be true.
“Trust me. She gets her devious ways from my parents.” He laughed, too, his, less genuine, caused by the pain in his throat—that he was again adjusting—or the truth in his words.
“Do you ever get along with your parents?” My eyes contacted his throat, his bruises still present, still purple.
“The issue is theirs,” he answered, the taste of the truth thick and sickening on his tongue. “I guess my mother didn’t feel ready for a child when she had me. She was young. It was different with Nessie—she wanted her. She was excited for her.”
He melted to the ground, finding comfort where I’d previously sat.
“What were your parents like?” he asked, genuine interest shining in his eyes, along with something else. His gaze shifted over my outfit, down my legs and back up. He breathed me in, his hand tapping the space at his side.
I dropped down, but I chose to sit opposite, so I could take him in, too.
“My mother died a long time ago. I was about Nessie’s age. My dad was technically my stepfather, well, kinda. They never got around to getting married. But he took me on when they met. My biological father, I’ve never met him, and I have no interest in seeking him out.”
“Your dad was your father.”
“He was, and he was amazing. He never got over my mother’s death, but he never let it get in the way of his parenting.
” I smiled, reminiscing sweet memories. “He was a dancer. Handsome, blond, tanned, a smile for everyone. He was the sweetest man.” My happiness faded, as memories were replaced with the tragic reality.
A tear fell from my eye, and I wiped away the sadness as fast as I could, but it still lingered, still coated my vision, and caused Woodrow to blur in front of me. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He moved forward, his hand positioning itself on my trembling knee.