Fool Me Once

For the first week of their journey, the girls would meet up with different French men every night. They’d make out with them, no more, and giggle the whole night about how cute François or Laurent or Pascal was. A week in, Claire met Jean-Pierre and started the perfect summer romance-intense, passionate, romantic, full of PDA (public displays of affection that made Maya and Eileen gag), and sadly forced to die in six weeks’ time.

For a fleeting moment at the end of their stay, Claire actually toyed with the idea of not returning to Vassar for her senior year. She was in love. Jean-Pierre was in love. He begged her to stay. He was a “realistic romantic,” he claimed, and so he knew the odds but he also knew that they could beat them. He loved her.

“Please, Claire, I know we can do it.”

Claire was simply too practical. She broke his heart and her own. She came home, cried, and then got on with her regularly scheduled life.

Where, Maya wondered, was Jean-Pierre now? Was he married or happy? Did he have kids? Did he still think about Claire? Did he know, via the web or whatever, that she was dead? How had he reacted to her death? Shock, anger, denial, devastation, sad shrug?

Maya wondered what would have happened if Claire had decided to stay with Jean-Pierre in France. In all likelihood, she would have had a few more weeks, maybe months, of romance before coming back home. She’d have missed a semester at Vassar, maybe, and graduated late.

Big friggin’ deal.

Claire should have stayed. She shouldn’t have been so damn practical.

“I know you thought that you got rid of Robby for good,” Eileen said. “And I thank you for that. You saved my life. You know that.”

The midnight text Eileen had sent Maya was simple: He’s going to kill me. Please help. Maya had driven over with this same weapon in her purse. Robby was drunk and raging, calling Eileen a dirty whore and worse. He’d been spying on Eileen and saw her smile at some guy at the gym. He was throwing things when Maya arrived, searching for his wife, who had found a hiding spot in the basement.

“You scared him that night.”

Maya had, perhaps taking it a step too far, but sometimes it was the only way.

“But when he found out you’d redeployed, he started coming around again.”

“Why didn’t you call the police?”

Eileen just shrugged. “They never believe me. They say the right things. But you know Robby. He can be charming.”

And, Maya added to herself, Eileen never pressed charges. The vicious cycle of abuse fueled by a mixture of false optimism and fear.

“So what happened?”

“He came back and beat me. Broke two ribs.”

Maya closed her eyes. “Eileen.”

“I couldn’t live with the fear anymore. I thought about getting a gun. You know. It would be self-defense, right?”

Maya said nothing.

“Except then what? The cops would wonder why I suddenly decided to buy a gun. I’d probably still get charged. And even if I didn’t, what kind of life is that for Kyle and Missy? Their mom killed their dad. You think they’d ever understand it?”

Yes, Maya thought. But she kept it to herself.

“I couldn’t live with the fear. So I set it up to take one more beating. That’s all. If I could live through it, maybe I’d be rid of him for good.”

Maya saw where this was going. “You taped him with the hidden camera.”

She nodded. “I brought the tape to my lawyer. He wanted to take it to the cops, but I just wanted it over. So he talked to Robby’s lawyer. Robby dropped his request for joint custody. He knows the tape is with my lawyer and if he comes back… It isn’t perfect, but it’s better now.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because there was nothing you could do. Because you’ve always been everyone’s protector. I didn’t want that for you anymore. I wanted you to be okay too.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, Maya, you’re not.”

Eileen bent over the computer. “Do you know how some people want cops to wear cameras all the time? Ninety-two percent of the public. I mean, why not? But I wonder if we all shouldn’t wear them all the time. How would we behave? Would we be better to each other? So I started thinking about that. I thought we should record whatever we could. That’s why I bought the hidden cameras. Do you get that?”

“Show me the order, please.”

“Fine.” Eileen didn’t protest anymore. “Here.”

Maya looked down at the screen. There it was-an order for three digital camera frames with hidden cameras.

“This order is a month old.”

“I ordered three for myself. I gave you one of mine.”

A month ago. So the idea that Eileen was in on all this-whatever the hell this was-seemed very unlikely. No one could have foreseen all of this a month ago. And really, what the hell did Maya think Eileen could have done here?

None of it made any sense.

“Maya?”

She turned to Eileen.

“I’m going to skip the part where I’m insulted that you didn’t trust me.”

“I saw something…”

“Yeah, I figured that out. What?”