Audre & Bash Are Just Friends(82)

Audre gasped, running her hand over her eyes. Handsy. What a chilling word. She had so many questions for Eva—and the girl she used to be—but she knew not to interrupt a person who was exposing a hidden truth.

Also, she was furious with Grandma Lizette. She’d held her up as a shero. A feminist icon. When she was little, she’d named her American Girl doll after her. She used to think Grandma Lizette controlled the seasons. From the way Eva talked about her, she seemed all-powerful.

“Lizette used to tell me that Mercier girls were cursed,” continued Eva. “And I had no reason to believe she was wrong. Lizette was a mess, and so was I. When I was your age, I had a death wish. I was in constant pain. No friends, miserable home life. That’s when I met Shane.”

Audre frowned, confused. “And I always thought that you and Shane were wholesome high school sweethearts. Second-chance romance goals.”

“We weren’t wholesome, honey. We did drugs together, we self-harmed together, and we broke the law. When you came home the other night with Bash? And his face was bruised and cut? I saw me and Shane, and I was scared. It’s what I always try to protect you from.”

Audre thought back to all the times Eva had been unreasonably strict. She wasn’t allowed to go to slumber parties till she’d taken two years of Muay Thai boxing. Eva always assumed the worst was going to happen. Still, Audre thought, it would’ve been so much easier to just share what she experienced so she understood.

“The best thing we did was escape each other, though. We both got clean. He became a famous writer. I got into college and wrote the first Cursed book. I met your dad, and we had you. I bought this apartment in a fancy neighborhood, sent you to a fancy school. All I cared about was giving you a normal life. A life with problems, sure—but normal problems. Not ones that would land you in a mental institution.”

Audre gasped, and then felt bad for her reaction. “You were institutionalized?”

Eva nodded. “In twelfth grade, Shane and I ran away together. We broke into an empty house and lived there for a week. And I overdosed. Afterward, the police ordered me to check into a facility.”

“What in the bad-girl hell, Mom?”

“I taught you that ‘Mercy girls do what can’t be done’ instead of ‘Mercy girls are cursed’ on purpose. To make us sound like superheroes instead of victims.” Eva reached for Audre’s hand, straightening her cameo ring. “I wanted the past to give you strength instead of weighing you down.”

Audre tried to take it all in. “I come from a long line of melancholy outlaws. Bad girls. This is my ancestral truth! I’ve wasted so much time trying to be so good.”

“Life isn’t that black-and-white, though. There’s bad and good in all of us. It wasn’t till I wrote my book that I learned to embrace all of it. It’s freeing. You’re chained to the stuff you can’t get over,” she told her. “Delphine, Clothilde, and Lizette did the best they could with no resources or support. I accept them, and I accept myself. You can’t live a full life until you do.”

It made sense. Audre understood why she’d hidden her true self: Genevieve Mercier. Life was complicated and families weren’t perfect—and Eva was doing the best she could.

“But if you’re all about accepting your past, why couldn’t you tell me?”

“I was scared. Putting it off for as long as I could. Because telling you the truth would mean undoing all the half-truths I’d told you over the years.” Again, Eva reached out for Audre’s hands across the table. “Can you forgive me someday?”

Audre had a million thoughts running through her mind. She hated being lied to. But she loved her mom and wanted her back. So, with a resigned smile, she nodded. “I forgive you.”

“Thank you,” whispered Eva.

“You are a warrior, Mom. It’s like a flaming baton was passed down from mother to daughter, mother to daughter, and when it got to you, you blew it out. That’s your gift to me, and Baby Alice, and everyone who comes after us.”

“Beautifully put.” Eva’s eyes filled up with tears. “I was going to tell you before the book came out. You weren’t supposed to discover it on your own. You must’ve felt so betrayed.”

“And confused, and angry,” admitted Audre. “But at least it got us talking. I haven’t felt close to you since Baby Alice was born. Sounds bratty, but it’s like you dropped me for her.”

“Are you crazy? I loved you first!” Eva dabbed her eyes with a napkin. “We went from a family of two to four overnight. I’m learning as I go.”

“Aren’t we all,” sighed Audre, sounding world-weary. “Mom? There’s something I’ve been keeping from you.”

This was the perfect time to tell Eva about the panic attacks. But was she ready to come clean about the prom video, Ellison’s laughter, her public meltdown? To say the words out loud—and reveal that she didn’t have it all together? That she was messy sometimes? And felt small, which was the opposite of the personality she projected to the world?

Hell yes. Her mom’s honesty had given her courage.

And so, she spilled all. By the time they were done talking, they were curled up in Eva’s bed with Hereditary on in the background. It felt like old times. The two of them, cozy, watching their comfort horror movies and chitchatting about life.