The Hudson Boys

C H A P T E R 5

(PICTURE ABOVE OF TATE HUDSON)

C H A P T E R 5

Dinner that night is anything but quiet. Marcia calls me down around six thirty and the table is already set, a steaming dish of roast chicken in the middle of the table as well as bowls of cooked carrots, peas and potatoes. She shows me where to sit before walking to the door frame and calling out to the boys.

"Dinners' Ready!"

There isn't even a moment's pause before the sound of six pairs of feet came thumping down the stairs taking seats in what I presume is their usual places. I end up seated between Tate and Ryan with Tom, Lee, and Sam across from us. Jack and Marcia take the seats at either end of the table and Jack says grace before everyone tucks in.

There is talking and laughing. Everyone telling each other about something or another that happened at school and I suddenly begin to feel very out of place. I can't join in on these stories. I don't know the people they're talking about. This isn't my dinner table, this isn't even my family.

Today would have been Taco Tuesday at my house and family game night to follow. Emmy would have wanted to play Scrabble but she always wins so Mom would try to convince her to play Monopoly instead. Then they would have argued over which game had more relevance to everyday life and in the end, we would still be playing Scrabble because Emmy's signature argument was; "You have to be able to read the price tags before you can buy the houses" and therefore Scrabble was the more relevant option.

I used to dread family game night, I hated the thought of having to sit through another argument and then another game of Scrabble where my annoying sister would tease me for only using three and four-letter words. But now, I would have sat through a lifetime of game nights and a million more arguments if I could just have my Mother and sister back.

"....ss the salt?" I zone back in to Ryan's voice from beside me, breaking me out of my thoughts. I look around the table and everyone is staring at me.

"Maya?" He says again.

"Sorry! What did you say?" I try to discreetly calm my breathing. I can feel my heart thumping in my chest and my ears are starting to ring.

"I asked you to pass the salt, where did you go?" He smiles at me, concern in his eyes.

My mind is a jumbled mess, memories flickering across my eyelids. White light blinds me. The screeching of tires on wet Tarmac. Screams, loud and shrill.

I stand up with a jolt, reaching around Tate, I grab the salt shaker in a rush, almost knocking over his drink, and place it in front of Ryan with more force than I intended before fleeing the room. I can hear Marcia's concerned voice calling out behind me but I ignore her.

Once I reach the top of the staircase I duck straight into my room and dive under the covers of my bed, still wearing the same clothes I arrived in. 

Burying my face in the pillows, the same pillow case I had taken from Mom's room, I slowly inhale the scent of laundry detergent and her perfume that lingers on the fabric. It makes me feel safe, and secure and the tears begin to fall as I grip tightly to the pendant around my neck and sobs wrack my body.

What seems like hours later, with puffy eyes and wet cheeks I manage to lift myself up long enough to remove my socks and jeans before snuggling back under the covers. I feel completely drained, my ribs are aching and I can feel a headache coming on.

I am vaguely aware of someone coming into the room sometime later. They place a hand on my shoulder to see if I am awake but I am too exhausted to give any sort of reaction. I feel them reach over and pull the duvet up around my shoulders, tucking me into the covers. With a motherly touch, they run their fingers across my hair. before making their way slowly across the room and shutting the door quietly behind them. Leaving me alone in the dark and aching for my own mother to appear and take away the pain.

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A/N.

I know it's a very short chapter but I couldn't think of anything else to add and the next bit really needed to start on a new chapter.

What do you think of the picture of Tate?

The next part will be up very soon so don't murder me just yet.

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Meg.