Surprised I even managed to write this but hey. I think I almost fell asleep at one point my eyes won't stay open?
Disclaimer: DOTH MOTHER KNOW YOU WEARETH HER DRAPES?!
The therapist (some overly bouncy brunette with eyes that are too blue called Theresa) tries to talk to her about her mother. Her father. Her brother. Does she blame Healy? No. It's not Healy's fault. Why would Healy want to do that to his own mother? Ridiculous question. Audrey doesn't hold back from telling Theresa how she feels, about how ridiculous her questions are. Her mother would wake up if she could. Her mother is not one to stay asleep when her family needs her. She's not the one who needs the therapy, she's not the one who needs to be told that her mother isn't coming back. But of course, she's the minor, and her father is… well, her father. If he says she's going to therapy then she's going to therapy. And no one can make him do anything. She can't make him listen, he shuts down at any mention of his wife, of the hospital, of the choice he has to make. Audrey knows he knows he has to make it. She thinks he knows that she's not coming back. Five years, and nothing? He's not stupid. No, he's just in love.
People start to question his whereabouts. Questions in newspapers regarding his mental state. Thankfully, Audrey doesn't have to deal with that. Well, she gets bombarded with questions at school, but it's Paula who resolves everything. She doesn't think her father has any idea what's going on in the outside world, in the vicious circle of lies and rumours and page six magazine spreads. Sometimes she thinks she should tell him, at least so he can tell them that he's okay himself. Even if it's a lie, even if he's not okay and he's slipping into a downwards spiral of depression and grief and alcohol she doesn't want to have her family's business looking at her from everything she looks at. It's only because her father is – was? – a best-selling author that they even give a crap, anyway. If it was anybody else, if they were anybody else this wouldn't interest anybody. They could grieve in private. But no, heaven forbid.
So, you hate your father for being famous? What? What kind of ridiculously stupid question is that. No, she doesn't hate her father for being famous. She doesn't hate her father for doing what he loves, for having a lifestyle that lets them live in comfort without having to worry about whether there'll be food in the house. Why would she resent that? It's not like his books killed her mother. It's not like if her mother had never picked up her father's book in a small bookshop, one rainy afternoon when was trying to escape from her drunk father the aneurism wouldn't have happened. It would have still been there. It would have burst eventually. But you wouldn't have to deal with all these pressure. All the questions. Doesn't mean I hate him for being famous.
She doesn't want to talk about her mother. Her mother isn't the issue. She doesn't have any issues. It's Healy she's concerned about. He'll ask questions eventually, she's surprised he hasn't started questioning the lack of one parent already. He'll ask questions and he will want to know why. Why is his mother dead, or asleep, or both. She doesn't blame him, but that doesn't mean he won't. If he gets the idea that he's too blame for his mother lying comatose in a hospital bed… she can't deal with two grieving family members. She can barely deal with her father, let alone her brother too. But she wants Healy to remain as innocent as possible until she has no choice but to tell him. That's the issue she has.