Chapter Eighteen
Audrey jolted awake. Most of her night had been surprisingly peaceful, but, right before she’d woken up, her family had haunted her dreams, angry and malicious.
Hallie reached out for her, her soft, soothing voice murmuring, “I’m here, you’re safe, it’s just us.”
She took in the room around her. Hallie’s childhood bedroom. Not Audrey’s room at the cabin. Hallie was beside her. Everything was fine—well, it wasn’t, but, for the time being, she was safe.
Her heart still hammering restlessly in her chest, she sank back into the pillows. As her fingers automatically tapped her thumbs, she winced. Blisters, raw skin. It wasn’t the first time but it had been a minute.
A year, probably.
Hallie’s eyes narrowed. “Are you okay?”
Audrey nodded. Her family was a huge part of why she didn’t date, but there was this part too.
The waking from nightmares about them, of knowing whoever was waking up next to her wouldn’t want to talk about them again, wouldn’t want to deal with the way they corrupted everything, even if they weren’t around.
“Here,” Hallie said softly, holding one hand out as she reached for the cream on the bedside table.
And there was that.
How did you explain to someone who didn’t experience it that you could cause yourself injuries simply by being unable to stop tapping, counting, scraping?
But Hallie didn’t seem to be looking for an explanation.
She sat cross-legged in front of Audrey and gently dabbed at her raw thumbs and fingertips. The cool cream and Hallie’s touch were a relief, even though Audrey was still embarrassed. She generally didn’t reveal this part to other people, not even Zora.
Her mind bounced around—her family, the need to go back there, the fact that she didn’t have her things here, the way she’d asked Hallie to stay with her last night, inappropriate though that was, and, as always, Legionnaire’s disease.
She frowned, looking at the top of Hallie’s head as she leaned over Audrey’s hands. She shouldn’t ask. She should be able to control the urge, live in the uncertainty. But everything hurt and something needed soothing, especially if she couldn’t tap her fingers right now.
She sucked in a breath. “Hey, Hallie?”
“Yes, Audrey?” she asked warmly.
“The bathroom I used last night, does it get used often?”
She hummed in surprise, considering. “Uh, yeah, pretty often. The four of us are in and out and use it when we’re here. Why?”
Audrey took a second to concentrate on the slow exhale of her breath. “It’s silly…”
“No, it’s not.”
“You don’t even know what it is.”
Hallie looked up at her, still holding one of Audrey’s hands. “I don’t need to. I know it’s on your mind and that makes it important, not silly.”
“I think silly things all the time.”
She laughed quietly. “I welcome all the silly things you want to bring to the table. We can all use a little silly. However, I think this is more important than that.”
Audrey sighed. It wasn’t important, but it wasn’t silly in the fun way either. “I just… I have a thing about Legionnaire’s disease.”
“Right.” She frowned like she was trying to place what she knew about the disease in question.
“It can show up in standing water and, for some ridiculous reason, every time I use a tap I don’t know, I think I’m about to get assaulted by the thing.
” She shook her head and tried to play it all off as a weird joke.
“You should see how long I need to run every tap in my apartment when I get home.”
Hallie nodded. “Okay, well, I promise those taps are used more than frequently enough. I promise you didn’t get Legionnaire’s disease.”
Audrey’s heart ached at how softly she said that, how little judgment or scolding there was in her tone. Other people had promised she hadn’t picked up Legionnaire’s disease before, but they’d been ridiculing her.
Not Hallie.
“Okay,” Audrey said, a little choked up. “Sorry.”
She shrugged. “You don’t have to be sorry.”
Audrey wanted to argue that she did, but Hallie simply continued softly massaging Audrey’s fingertips, so caring, so forgiving, so understanding, and she wasn’t sure what to do with any of the situation other than stay still and let herself be cared for.
When Hallie was done, she held Audrey’s hands carefully in her own and placed them on the bed between them. “I think you should stay here until Sunday. If you want to?”
“Oh, I couldn’t possibly do that.”
“You absolutely could,” Hallie shot back with a smile.
“And I implore you to. Going back there isn’t healthy.
It’s not what you need. Here, you’ll be safe and looked after, and…
” She trailed off and shook her head as if she genuinely thought something dark and terrible would happen to Audrey if she went back to her family.
“I’m used to being around them. I know how to tolerate this.”
Hallie’s breath sounded more painful than Audrey had expected, but she found she couldn’t quite meet Hallie’s eye when she was lying.
She wasn’t trying to lie to Hallie, it was more to herself.
Everything had to be okay. She needed to know how to tolerate being around her family, needed to figure it out.
She’d done it before and she’d do it again.
Every year that passed seemed to get more and more complicated, more difficult.
Her therapist insisted it was because she understood it better now, that she spent more time away from it all.
Her body knew safety, so going back to that place was harder.
When she’d been growing up, she’d been living in the trauma, she dissociated and made it through. Now, it weighed on her.
But she could figure it out.
“Besides,” she continued awkwardly, “I don’t have any of my stuff here. I can’t keep putting you out when I don’t even have my clothes.”
Hallie smiled. “You have enough clothes with you for us to make it to a store to buy a few things to tide you over.”
“I guess… But I don’t want to ruin your week, or put you out, or your mom…”
“Please,” Hallie laughed. “She wants you here. She absolutely adores having us all around and she really likes you.”
“I’m sure that’s not true.”
“It is.”
Audrey stared at her. It was like she thought it was so simple, so easy. How did families exist so peacefully?
“Do you want to ask her?” Hallie offered when Audrey didn’t reply.
“No. If I did, she’d just feel compelled to agree and that wouldn’t be fair.”
Hallie smiled but there was a furrow between her brows that suggested she really didn’t like the way Audrey experienced families, needs, or requests.
“Okay. How about I go ask her and report back? That way, she won’t feel compelled to be polite, we’ll have asked, and you can feel secure in the knowledge that you’re welcome here. ”
Audrey chewed her lip. Her hands itched to tap. They were sore and weak but they still wanted to. Hallie might have been able to feel it. Her thumbs started rubbing, applying soothing pressure in the centers of Audrey’s palms.
“I promise it’s okay,” she said, working to hold Audrey’s anxious gaze.
“Okay,” she agreed eventually, trying not to cringe with shame. “Thank you.”
Hallie’s smile was radiant. “My pleasure.” She hopped off the bed. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
“Oh, uh, right now?”
“Definitely. Then, we can have breakfast in peace and you can settle in.”
Audrey didn’t get the chance to say anything else as Hallie bolted from the room. She wasn’t entirely sure what to do with such eagerness.
She glanced at her phone on the bedside table, her chest clenching. Whatever was there wasn’t going to be good.
A message from River saying she’d secured Audrey’s belongings. And a lot of messages from her family, especially her mother. Her brother telling her she was being selfish. Her father telling her she was upsetting her mother and that was unacceptable.
But what about when her mother upset her? He’d never cared about that.
And her mom. A million questions about what she’d done to deserve such a daughter in voice and text. She really must have been annoyed if she was texting that much.
Audrey closed the messages. She’d go through them with her therapist but she couldn’t do that now.
She climbed out of bed, planning to slip to the bathroom before Hallie returned. However, the second she stepped out of the door, she was met by Tracy, heading downstairs from her room.
She smiled so widely, so sincerely that a little part of Audrey’s heart felt like it was breaking. How hard would it be for her family to look at her like that?
“How’d you sleep?” Tracy asked, like she really wanted to know the answer.
Audrey nodded, realizing just how well she had slept. Even with the bad dreams, that was a miracle. “Yeah, really well, actually. Thank you for having me.”
Tracy beamed. “Of course. We’re so happy you’re here. I wasn’t joking when I asked if you were busy for Christmas.”
Audrey laughed politely, trying to sweep the comment away. She wasn’t sure how else to handle it, but maybe Hallie had been right.
“Are you doing okay, honey?” Tracy asked, stepping a little closer.
“Yeah, just… dealing with my family. It’s… complicated, you know.”
Tracy studied her in a way that made her feel small.
Not in a dangerous way like her own mother did but in a way she thought other people might experience with their mothers.
That penetrating, knowing, comprehending way that felt like it came with paying attention to your kids.
Audrey wasn’t sure she deserved to be on the receiving end.