Page 68 of Everyone Here Is Lying
Manipulative—because she left out that he begged for her forgiveness? Why shouldn’t she leave that out? Why do men always think they should be forgiven? That they only have to ask? Maybe whathethinks is relevant is not what her daughter and she and millions of other girls and women think is relevant. So he beggedfor forgiveness—so what?That makes it all right? And now he’s trying to discredit their daughter—don’t believe everything she says—because that’s how he sees the world, through his male bias. As if Avery had a hand in it somehow. Well, it’s not how she sees it. Avery is a victim, anyone can see that. And Erin has been a victim, too—of her husband’s infidelity, of all his filthy lies.
How did she not see this in him before? She sees it clearly enough now. Erin is still angry at the world—at her husband, his lover, and the crazy, dead woman who was obsessed with him.Theyhave caused all of this. And now she’s left with an even more damaged daughter, with nothing but a list of doctors’ names to help her. William clearly isn’t going to be much help.
She gets up slowly. She finally has a chance to be alone with Avery, to talk to her privately, with no one else listening. She doesn’t know if she can get her daughter to open up to her; she knows what she’s like. It’s going to take time. She wonders what’s ahead:Will there be nightmares? Withdrawal? Will she act out—be angry, volatile? How will she manage the return to school? Oh God—she must, at some point, go back to school, and everyone will know what’s happened to her, what she’s done. Maybe they will have to move away, to protect Avery from the publicity. Must she uproot poor Michael, who’s happy here, with his friends, and his teams, and who may still want to maintain some kind of relationship with his father?
For a moment, it all overwhelms her, and she sits down suddenly on the bottom stair, overcome with exhaustion. But then she remembers that her daughter is alive and has come back to her, which is what she prayed so desperately for, so she can’t feel sorry for herself now. It’s just—when she imagined getting Avery back, she neverthought beyond that joyful moment, to what would happen after. To what’s ahead.
She rises and makes her way upstairs and to Avery’s room. She taps lightly at the door and opens it.
“Hey,” Erin says. Avery looks at her. She seems wary. “It’s just us now,” Erin says soothingly, “you, me, and Michael. Everyone else has gone.” She comes over and sits on the bed.
Avery nods and says, “Good.”
Erin can’t help it—she reaches for Avery and pulls her body close, kissing the top of her head, trying to soothe her as she knows she must need to be soothed, and knowing that this is nowhere near enough, but it’s all she has. And Avery lets herself be held, which is unlike her, so she must recognize the need for it, too, Erin thinks. They have both been through so much. She holds her and whispers into her hair, “It’s going to be all right, Avery. Everything’s going to be all right.” She holds her and waits for her little girl to cry, to let it all out. But she doesn’t. She’s quiet, unemotional. It’s Erin who’s crying.
Finally, Erin pulls back and looks at her dry-eyed daughter. She must still be in shock, Erin thinks. It’s going to take time. The doctors will help—if she’ll let them. Avery has never cooperated with any of the specialists they’ve taken her to. But surely this is different? Something terrible has happened to her. Erin says, “Avery, I’m here for you, you know that, right? Any time of the day or night, I’ll listen. Or if you just want a hug... If there’s anything you want to tell me... it might help to share it.”
“Okay,” Avery says, but stops there.
“Okay,” Erin agrees. Avery’s obviously not ready to open up yet. It’s going to take time. But Erin has time, she has all the time inthe world for her daughter. Still, there’s one thing she wants to ask. “I was there, at Marion’s house last night, while you were in the basement... Did you know I was there? And you couldn’t call out?”
Avery shakes her head. “She kept me drugged. I must have been sleeping.”
Erin nods. “Of course.” She says, “I love you, Avery. Never forget that. When you were gone, I—” She bursts into tears, unable to articulate any of it.
Her daughter pats her awkwardly on the shoulder. “It’s okay. I’m back now. Everything’s going to be all right.”
And it’s so odd to hear that coming from Avery that Erin stops crying and stares at her. She nods. “Yes. It is. We’re going to be fine. All of us.” And for the first time, she believes it. But there’s still something bothering her. “Avery, I need you to tell me the truth. Did anyone else ever bother you? An older boy?”
Avery turns away. “I don’t want to talk anymore. I’m really tired.”
Erin doesn’t want to push her. She rises from the bed, far from reassured. “Okay, you get some rest.”
She exits the bedroom. She walks down the hall and taps on Michael’s door. He needs to know what Avery has told them; it will be in the news soon enough. As usual, he’s sitting on his bed with his laptop. He takes off his headphones.
She sits down beside him on his bed. “Are you okay?” she asks.
He bursts into tears. She pulls him into a hug, whispers into his hair, much like she had with her daughter. “It’s okay, Michael. Everything is going to be all right.” Her son is the more sensitive one; she knows he needs to let it out. This has all been so awful for him.
Finally, he pulls away from her, wiping his eyes with his hands, and says, a worried look on his face, “What’s going to happen to her?”
“Nothing is going to happen to her. Marion’s death was an accident. Avery was trying to escape—it was self-defense. She’s nine years old. No one is going to blame her or hold her accountable. She’ll be here, with us. We’ll both have to help her, Michael. She’ll need a lot of support.”
He looks away and, after a pause, asks, “What about Dad?”
She chooses her words carefully. “Your father won’t be living with us anymore. But you can still see him all you want, okay?”
He has no response to that. Instead, he says, “I heard... what Avery told the detectives. I was listening. It’s all his fault.”
Erin swallows. She wants to agree with him, but she says, “Your father has done some awful things, but he’s not to blame for what Marion did. He had no idea Marion took Avery.” She doesn’t know if Michael will want to have a relationship with his father after everything that’s happened, with what he knows about his father. She won’t try to influence him one way or another.
Michael and Avery have always been closer to her. Which makes sense; she’s spent more time with them. She’s their mother. She’s the more nurturing parent. She knows them better than William does.
Fifty-two
What?” Avery doesn’t like what she just heard her mother say.
They’re sitting at the breakfast table the next morning, Sunday. Avery had slept well, back in her own bed. Michael is a late riser and hasn’t come down yet. Outside, the crowd of media and curious onlookers has dissipated somewhat from the day before. Avery has already snuck a few peeks out the curtained living-room window, despite her mother calling her away, telling her to ignore them, not to worry about them.Ignore them and they’ll go away, she’d said, sounding anxious. But Avery doesn’t want them to go away, and some of them already have. The ones welcoming her home with banners and signs have gone, but the media people are still there, desperate for an interview, a photograph, a story. And she wants to give it to them. She wants to be the center of attention, she wants to be famous, and she wants a lot of money for it.She wants to be in control of her own life. And now her mother is suggesting theyhide?
