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 beinghere 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.
