Chapter 28 Audrey
Audrey
Late November
I’m not one hundred percent here. I know I’m home, and that Clay is here and Mathilda is at school.
Gracie is my sweet dog, and she nuzzles my hand with love.
A woman visits, and she is my friend, but not Micah, who is here a lot.
The newer friend says her name is Toni. She knows me and makes us coffee, and she is very nice. I smile and nod and wish she would go.
“Are you okay, Audrey?” she asks, and she covers my hand with hers. It’s a pretty hand.
“I like your nail paint,” I say. She looks confused. Why? I do like her nail paint. I think she can tell there’s something wrong with me, and she feels sorry for me. I don’t like that feeling.
“I’m on some medicines,” I tell her. “They make me a little groggy.” I have no idea if groggy is a word. It sounds like something you’d call your grandmother. This makes me think I should call Gran. Or not. Stephen probably calls Gran, so I can skip that for now. I wonder if Gran knows about me.
“Okay,” the Toni person says. “I hope you feel better. I’ll check in later this week.” When she drives away, I remember I want to write her a letter. To thank her for being my friend. I might have already done that.
The fogginess doesn’t lift, but after supper, Mathilda asks if I want to watch Love, Actually.
“Yes!” I say. “That’s my favorite Christmas movie!
” But I think Christmas is still far away because we don’t have a tree.
It doesn’t matter. We sit on the couch together and eat popcorn.
When the prime minister dances around the house, we laugh so hard.
We both love the old rock star. Then the little boy calls Liam Neeson Dad when they’re leaving for the airport, and my eyes fill up, because I remember why that scene makes me cry.
Because that’s what I always wanted, too. To be the mom, not just the stepmother.
I look at Mathilda, and her eyes are shiny, too. She gives me a sideways glance and a little smile with an eye roll. Then her hand drifts over to hold mine, and it feels like a dream. Maybe it is a dream. A happy, happy dream.
Later, maybe the next day, it rains. The leaves are all gone by now and the woods look lonely.
Water burbles down the rain chain outside the den window.
Gracie’s head is on my lap, and we’re covered with a blanket.
There’s a mug next to me, and it’s filled with something warm and sweet and yummy.
Thoughts skitter and slide at the edges of my brain, but I’m too tired to follow them or catch them.
The rain is nice. There’s a fire, too, and I’m warm.
Gracie is warm, too, her breath slow and steady.
This isn’t the worst day. Not the best, either, because my head doesn’t have much in it, but the rain sounds so lovely, and I’m safe. It’s good enough for now. I look out the windows. A shiny black bird hops across the yard. I drink more of the warm yummy stuff.
I’m happy. Today, I’m happy. Someone told me there would be more happy days in front of me, and she wasn’t wrong. It was . . . let’s see now . . . Jasmine.
I will need to do my plan soon, before I lose more of me. I go upstairs and look in my closet at the blue suitcase. I still know the plan. I’m not Alice yet. I won’t forget.