When she didn’t reply, her mom simply shrugged. “Well, we caught her up on what you’ve been doing. She said again that we must be so proud of you.”
They’d have said they were, at least to Mrs. Dixon’s face. That was what they did. Just like when people commented to Audrey that her parents must be so proud of her, she’d smile, nod, and tell them that they were. It was what they did. It was polite. It was one of the many ways they tried to plaster over the cracks and shine them until everyone else was impressed. Because that was what mattered. It wasallthat mattered. Just like with the relationships thing.
Her parents would tell other people they were proud because other people thought she was impressive, other peoplethought they should be proud. But they’d never say it to her directly. They weren’t really proud. It was just a game.
“Thank you,” Audrey said stiffly, as if her mom had said she was proud. It was the script. It was what she had to do. Her stomach roiled, her heart clenched, and her muscles ached. She could have gone to bed without tea.
“Mm. Well, you know everyone would like it if you came back here, settled down.” She moved in and poured the hot water for Audrey. Control, care… What was the difference? What did it matter?
“Right.”
“But. It’s good that I ran into you here. We haven’t had a minute to catch up this week. So busy.”
They’d had opportunities. Her mom just hadn’t wanted to talk to her.
“Yeah. How are things?” she asked dutifully. Like two people who barely knew each other.
“Oh, you know, good. We’ve all been having such a fantastic time since Cal and Delaney’s wedding. What a fantastic couple, and so nice to have her as part of the family.” She sighed heavily. “You know, her own parents aren’t great. It’s better that she’s here with us. And, hey, at least we don’t have to lose him to their holidays. Delaney would much rather be with us.”
Audrey nodded slowly, looking down. She knew it was childish, but she didn’t even want her tea now that her mom had taken over making it.
She winced against the pain in her head. The circling thoughts that told her not to think things like that, that she was terrible for doing so.
And she didn’t know how to reply to her mom. It was a comment designed to point out how removed Audrey was from them all, to suggest she had a great family and should want to be closer to them.
Her family wasn’t great at irony.
“And how are things with you?” her mom asked, sliding her the mug.
“Fine, yeah.” For one moment, she hesitated between saying more and stopping there, but, if she gave them nothing, she’d be accused of shutting them out. Still, if she told her mom the thing that came to mind, that wouldn’t go well either.
She’d had it pointed out to her by friends and professionals that her mom couldn’t stop trying to compete with her. It was weird and awkward, but she’d spotted the trend. If something was going well for Audrey and she told her mom, inevitably, her mother would spiral, slowly make it about her, and require comforting.
The small, broken, innocent child inside Audrey still wanted to tell her mom things. She wanted her mom to be proud. She wanted to believe it wouldn’t be like that this time.
Maybe it wouldn’t. This was a family trip. Surely her mom wouldn’t commandeer the whole thing with her jealousy?
“Is everything going well at work?” her mom prompted, as if she really wanted to know.
Audreysowanted to have a family who asked those things and meant them. And she felt weak and tired, emotionally drained and unable to fight her mom, so she nodded. “Really good, yeah. I just got invited to be the keynote speaker at an important conference, so that will be good.”
She felt like a child again, standing before her mother and begging for love. It broke her, scared her, made her feel sick and like she wanted to run. And, paradoxically, it made part of her hope—a part she wished she could leave behind and move on from.
Her mom smiled and it looked so close to genuine. “That’s great! Congratulations! When is it?”
Audrey blinked, feeling the heat of the mug burning into her hand, and they went through the motions. Her mom sounded more and more genuine, like she really was happy for Audrey, like she realized how big a deal the invitation was, and like she really was proud of Audrey.
“Okay,” she said eventually, still smiling, “you should be off to bed, and I’d better tell your dad all about your conference.”
“Right.” Audrey nodded and let herself be herded towards the stairs.
She felt sad and overwhelmed and confused. Scared about what came next, because surely this wasn’t real. This was what her mom did, but then it came crashing down. And she had to wait for the crash now, barely able to breathe, her head pounding, body aching, mind racing.
But that timid, tiny voice hoped, just this once, that things might be different.
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.
