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

Chapter 1 - Jess

May 1958

"Sit up straight, Jessica!  You're in the Russian Tea Room."

Jess straightened her back, but she didn't take her eyes off her Shirley Temple.

"You're not a child anymore," her uncle continued crisply.  "You're thirteen years old and I expect you to act like it."

"Yes, Uncle Jonathon," she said, and lifted the deep red drink to take a sip so she wouldn't be expected to say more.

It was too sweet, tasting like cough syrup, but she took another sip.  She hadn't wanted it.  She'd ordered a Coca Cola but Uncle Jonathon had spoken up, instructing the waiter to bring her a Shirley Temple instead.  It had arrived with a paper parasol speared through two maraschino cherries.  It was an over the top drink, matching the over the top ornate red and gold restaurant where they were eating lunch.

The waiter appeared at Uncle Jonathon's left and set another martini nervously in front of him.  Jess raised her eyes and gave him a sympathetic smile, but he merely glanced at her as he bowed and stepped back.

"Excuse me!" her uncle said, his eyes flashing.

"Yes, sir," the waiter said, stepping forward and bowing his head even lower.

"Did you repeat my specific instructions to the bartender before he made this?" Uncle Jonathon asked imperiously, fixing the young waiter with an icy glare.

"Yes, sir.  I did," the waiter said, bobbing his head with his eyes on the floor.

"Very well," Uncle Jonathon replied, waving his hand dismissively.  The waiter bowed even lower and made his escape.  Jess watched him, wishing she could leave with him. 

The crunching sound of Uncle Jonathon chewing the pearl onion from his first martini got her attention.  For an older man, he was handsome.  His dark brown suit was impeccably tailored, fitting his tall, lean body perfectly.  His white shirt was stiffly starched and the maroon silk tie had the dimple perfectly centered.  His hair, brown but graying at the temples, was carefully combed up and back with hair cream, the part in it, a perfect straight line.  He sat erect in his chair, his bearing exuding power and wealth. 

Over the last week, it had shocked Jess to watch how he treated people, making a point of letting them know he thought they were beneath him.  Her dad, his younger brother, was just as wealthy since their family had started a successful iron ore mining business that was still highly profitable almost one hundred years later.  But he'd never shown off his wealth or behaved like he was better than anyone else. 

He'd worn suits when he worked at his job on Wall Street, but as soon as he came home he'd changed into comfortable clothes.  Even when they went out, he'd preferred to dress casually.  Instead of eating in fancy restaurants like the Russian Tea Room, her parents had preferred homey diners or small family run restaurants where the owners greeted them by name and told jokes on the way to the table.  This was the first time Jess had ever been in the Russian Tea Room even though she'd lived in Manhattan her whole life.  But then everything was different now, she thought with a sigh.

"Don't sigh, Jessica!" her uncle hissed angrily under his breath.  "It's unladylike – and straighten your spine!" he added sharply.

"Yes, Uncle Jonathon," she said, sitting up straighter and lifted her Shirley Temple for another sip.

The waiter appeared with their lunches, placing in front of her the baked sea bass her uncle had ordered for her and a steak in front of him that was so rare it was lying in a pool of its own blood.  Uncle Jonathon made a show of inspecting their meals to make sure they'd been prepared to his exact specifications before releasing the waiter.  Jess couldn't help squirming in her seat watching the poor man being belittled, feeling the stiff crinolines under her dress scratching her bare legs.