Chapter Eleven
River was already up and doing crafts with the kids when Hallie made her way downstairs the next morning. It made sense. Hallie had been up much later, talking to Audrey.
Downstairs was the usual ruckus as Hallie made her way across the hall and towards the kitchen, but, when she entered, she got the feeling it wasn’t quite the same as the last few days.
Michele was the center of everyone’s attention in the kitchen. Several of the family were sitting at the table, eating breakfast and not paying attention to her, but there was a crowd around her, led by River’s mom Jill.
Hallie tried not to scowl as she assessed the room, attempting to figure out what was going on. Her stomach dropped when she made eye contact with Audrey and the woman looked like she inhaled her first real breath of the day.
Her eyes were glassy, distant. A fixed, placating smile on her face.
It didn’t feel like Audrey at all, and Hallie couldn’t help wondering again how her girlfriend was okay with not being here for this.
If she’d been with Audrey, she’d have wanted to be nearby, a safe haven in this wreck of a family.
Of course, Audrey might not want Zora nearby.
This might be something she needed to face alone.
Hallie had no right questioning the dynamics of their relationship.
All she knew was that there was a burning, anxious need in the pit of her stomach begging her to figure out what was wrong and fix it for Audrey.
“That’s not true at all,” Jill said soothingly to Michele, and Audrey’s eyes snapped back to them. “Tell her, Audrey.”
There was something in Jill’s tone that set the hairs on Hallie’s neck prickling. She’d bet good money Audrey didn’t need to tell her mother anything.
“Of course,” Audrey said, nice and tidy and obliging. And utterly wrong. “You’re doing great!”
“I don’t know,” Michele said quietly. “I just feel like I’m letting everyone down. I should have done more, got everyone more gifts, more decorations for this place—maybe what they left isn’t enough.”
“No, you’re doing perfectly.”
Hallie felt bile rising in her throat watching the scene, the way Audrey was expected to placate a woman who couldn’t give a shit about her.
She could only imagine how bad Audrey felt.
It was set in every line of her stiff body, in the way she was trying to seem relaxed and genuine, in the tiny movements in both her upper arms that told Hallie she was pressing her fingertips into her thumbs again. It wasn’t working.
Michele looked at Audrey. “Well, if I were doing better, maybe we’d see more of you.”
Audrey jolted like she’d been shot and taught to stay upstanding through it. It was one of the worst things Hallie had ever witnessed up close.
“It’s not that,” she assured her mom quickly. “I’m just busy with work.”
“Right. Of course,” Michele said, standing up and moving to brush everyone off. She was painting herself as a martyr and to what? To her child having her own life? To someone the family bullied escaping their clutches?
“You can sit down,” Jill assured her, shooting daggers at Audrey.
“No, it’s fine,” Michele said, bustling around the kitchen. “Things to do. I’m fine. Just ignore me.”
“Mom…” Audrey said, her voice sad and small and wounded.
Hallie couldn’t stand the Sinclairs.
Michele waved Audrey off with the back of her hand, shoveling scrambled eggs onto a plate.
“Audrey?” Hallie called as if nothing was wrong. “Can I borrow you for a second?”
“Anything I can help with?” Michele asked, sickly sweet and like she hadn’t just been doing… whatever she’d been doing.
“No.”
Michele and Jill shared a look like they were surprised. Of course they were. Hallie didn’t act like the rest of the family did. The others who had been in the kitchen were dispersing, patting Michele sympathetically, but Hallie had no sympathy for the woman.
Audrey swallowed, deep lines in her furrowed brow. “Sure.”
Just moving seemed to be difficult for her, part of her brain attempting to hold her there, keeping her rooted in the dysfunction. This family had fucked her up, but Hallie wasn’t going to leave her stranded there. She’d do whatever she could to assist Audrey as she dug herself out of this place.
Hallie wasn’t about to ask Audrey to make decisions, so she decided. The cold helped Audrey regulate, and there was plenty of that here. She led them to the front door, grabbing their coats on the way, and out between the cars, locating her own in case Audrey wanted to sit in it.
Audrey, however, simply pressed her back into it and sank to the floor. Hallie sat with her, unconcerned about the damp gravel from where it had rained this morning. Sure, it was wet and cold, but it was what Audrey needed, so Hallie could handle it.
Her fingers pressed frantically into her thumbs, harder than Hallie had seen her do it before, and from the rhythmic way her breathing seemed to match it, Hallie got the feeling she was counting.
Audrey shut her eyes, shaking her head a few times as she counted, and Hallie couldn’t even begin to imagine what her mind was putting her through—what her family had done. This wasn’t what the holidays were supposed to be like.
By the time Audrey’s distress had settled enough for her to look at Hallie, the wet driveway had soaked through to her skin, but Hallie still wasn’t moving before Audrey did.
“Is there anything I can do?” she asked Audrey.
Audrey shook her head, looking so ashamed it broke Hallie’s heart. “It’s my fault. And I knew it would happen. I shouldn’t have…”
“Have what?” Hallie prompted softly after a moment.
Audrey’s fingers pressed more quickly into her thumbs again.
“Whatever it is,” Hallie assured her, “I’m not going to blame you or judge you. It’s okay.”
“My mom,” Audrey said, sounding breathless and strangled. “She asked, last night, how work was.”
“Right…” Hallie didn’t understand how that question had gotten them here, but there was plenty she didn’t understand about this family. Her own mom asked her that all the time and it was always fine.
“I should have lied or said nothing. I know she doesn’t… handle it well.”
“Handle what well?”
“Other people… getting things.”
Hallie stared past Audrey and up at the cabin. It was so beautiful on the outside. Decorated, pristine, the picture of holiday perfection. And, inside, it held something ugly. At least this week.
Audrey sucked in a breath, pulling her knees tight against her chest. “For years now, every time I tell my mom about some success I’ve had, something I’ve achieved, she turns it around and makes it about her.
Not like she’s taking credit for it. She pretends to be happy for me, she’ll brag to other people about it later, but, just after, it becomes the catalyst of her breaking down, spiraling on where she’s not good enough. ”
Hallie swallowed hard, looking at a broken, dishevelled Audrey next to her. “She needs everyone else to stay small so she can feel good about herself?”
“I guess. I don’t know if it’s everyone.”
“But it is you.”
“I suppose.”
Hallie had seldom disliked anyone the way she disliked Michele Sinclair. Weren’t you supposed to want better for your kids? Didn’t you want them to achieve their dreams? Shouldn’t she have been at the front of the line to celebrate Audrey’s successes?
“I told her about a conference I’ve been invited to speak at,” Audrey said, her body language suggesting she could barely even think about the conference now.
It had been contaminated by her family. “And, all morning, she’s been like this.
Up before everyone else, lamenting to everyone who came in that she’s failing, worthless. ”
“She doesn’t even believe that.”
Audrey stared at her. “What?”
“It’s a game. A shit one. But it’s a way to get attention, to have everyone tell her she’s the best. And a way to keep you small, make you feel bad about yourself and build her up by tearing yourself down.”
“She wouldn’t do that, I don’t think…”
Hallie watched as Audrey’s brain seemed to spin out on that.
Of course she couldn’t imagine it. Somehow, this family had produced a decent person, a hurt one, a person who still needed to believe her family was doing its best. They’d taught her to blame herself, not them, so they got away with anything they wanted.
“I think she really just struggles with…” Audrey trailed off, scrambling to put it into words.
“With letting you be your own person and being proud of you.”
“I don’t know about that.”
Hallie held a hand out, offering it to Audrey. She wouldn’t force Audrey to touch her. She needed to know her choices mattered and could be respected.
Quicker than she’d expected, Audrey placed her own hand into it. She felt tense, but Hallie had expected that.
“I know,” she told Audrey carefully, “that this feels impossible for your brain to accept right now because it’s been trained by these people not to question them, to need their love, but your mom knows what she’s doing, and she knows it hurts you.
She might not admit it to herself, but she was playing that crowd like an expert.
She knows what she’s doing. And why? Because something good happened to you at work?
Audrey, that’s not what families are supposed to be like. ”
“They’re the only one I’ve got,” she said, voice cracking with tears.
Hallie shook her head. Audrey’s sadness broke her heart, but this wasn’t about her and she wasn’t going to pull a Michele and make it be. “That’s not true. Not anymore.”
“It is. I don’t… I can’t… I haven’t…”
“I can take you to one that’s better than this.” She didn’t even need to think it through. It was easy, natural. She could show Audrey all the things she deserved. She wanted to.
Audrey blinked rapidly, her eyes teary. “What?”
Hallie smiled. “Are you up for a little drive?”
“We have a schedule—”
“It doesn’t matter. What matters right now is you, and we’re not baking cookies with your family while your mother is being a shit.”
“Your jeans must be soaked.”
“I have spares in the car. Winter preparedness.”
“Oh.”
“I even have some sweatpants you can borrow while yours dry, if you like?” She laughed lightly. “They might be a little short but it’s still better than sitting in wet pants.”
Audrey nodded slowly. She looked out of it. Hallie figured that made sense. She’d never been in a situation like Audrey with her family, but she could only imagine the way your system struggled to cope with it.
“Great,” she said, moving to stand up and hold a hand out to Audrey. “Let’s go on a little roadtrip.”
Audrey still looked confused but she took Hallie’s hand and stood up.
Hallie pulled her keys from her pocket, thinking it probably said something that she walked around this place with her wallet and her keys like she, too, was ready to bolt at any moment. “We can take turns changing in the back.”
“Okay.”
She held her arms out to Audrey again, just holding there, in case Audrey wanted a hug. It took less time than last night for Audrey to nod and fall into her arms.
She was quite a bit taller than Hallie, but she felt so fragile as they hugged, and Hallie knew she wasn’t only hugging adult Audrey. She was hugging all the versions this fucking family had hurt. And she was going to do her utmost to help heal every single version of her.
Starting with a trip to another family where the holidays were joyous and happy and filled with love, and who would love to see Audrey.