44 Charles Street

“You certainly got yourself some interesting roommates,” her mother said, sounding amused, as though it had been her idea. That was usually how things worked with her. If things turned out badly, it was someone else’s fault. If they turned out well, she was responsible for it and took full credit. Francesca would have liked to have her father and Avery too, but she enjoyed her parents more separately than together. Her mother got competitive with Avery sometimes, which was stressful for Francesca.

Her mother arrived for dinner on Saturday night, dressed to the nines, in a short sexy black dress and very high heels. Francesca saw Charles-Edouard’s eyes open wide when he saw her, and Marya looked amused. She was wearing loafers, a black sweater, and jeans, with her chef’s jacket. Ian was wearing his chef’s hat again, and looked pleased.

They had capellini with caviar, and Chateaubriand with foie gras and black truffles. It was an exquisite meal, and her mother got a little giddy on the wines, and predictably, she flirted mercilessly with Charles-Edouard, and Marya didn’t seem to mind at all.

“He is divine, isn’t he,” Thalia commented to her daughter when the men went outside to smoke cigars, and Ian went with them. He was wearing both rings from the cigars.

“Don’t get too worked up, Mom,” Francesca teased her. “He’s married. And French. That means he won’t get divorced for you.”

“You never know, stranger things have happened,” she said confidently.

“Not in France,” she and Marya said in unison, and then they laughed. Eileen had gone out. She said she had a date with a new man. She was the busiest girl in town, and the happiest these days. Things seemed to be going well for her. Francesca was pleased. She loved her job and her roommates, and she was having fun again after the incident with Brad. He was history.

“He’s certainly a very handsome, charming man,” Thalia said admiringly about Charles-Edouard, and Francesca brought her to earth and told her he had been in love with Marya for years.

“That’s not fair,” Thalia complained directly to Marya. “You don’t even want a man. You said so. I do, and he’s in love with you.”

“He’s not in love with anyone,” Marya said easily. “He just likes women. In quantity. We’ve been good friends for years.”

“What a waste,” Thalia said mournfully, as they walked back in, and she tried her charms on the famous chef again. And even though she had always embarrassed her, Francesca had to admit that her mother was beautiful. She looked sensational in the black dress and high heels, and she had the legs of a twenty-year-old as she crossed them enticingly, but Charles-Edouard only had eyes for Marya, and was unimpressed. Her mother looked a little deflated when she left. For once, her beauty and charm hadn’t worked, although he thought her a very beautiful woman, but not for him. And besides, Francesca thought to herself, he had a wife. There were a few too many women floating in his soup.

It was another perfect evening thanks to him, with lots of interesting conversation and great food. He had a passion for history and literature, as well as food. And it was a lazy Sunday the next day. Charles-Edouard came to pick up Marya, and wanted to try a new Chinese restaurant with her. He knew the chef, and had met him in Beijing. Chris and Ian were going to the model boat pond. Francesca had things to do in the house, and Eileen hadn’t come home the night before.

Francesca was looking at slides of new artists on a light box that afternoon when she heard Eileen come in. She called out to her but couldn’t see her from where she was sitting, and Eileen headed up the stairs. Francesca got up to get more slides then, and she caught a glimpse of Eileen hunched over and barely able to move. She turned to look at Francesca with a look of devastation, as Francesca caught her breath. She had been beaten up again.

“Who did that to you?” Francesca asked her as she put an arm around her to help her. Eileen was crying, and she refused to say. “Did you see Brad again?” And slowly Eileen nodded.

“He was so nice to me. He’s so loving, and then I upset him again. He thought I was making fun of him. He said I humilated him in front of his friends.”

“Eileen, swear to me you’ll get help. You can’t see him again.”

“I know. He said he never wants to see me again. He says he’s through with me, and never to call him again. He’s gone.” Francesca knew now that he wasn’t and never would be. He’d be back. To do it to her again. She had to be the one to walk away. And Francesca’s worst fear was that Eileen didn’t have the courage or the strength.

She helped Eileen upstairs to bed and left her there. Francesca felt sick, thinking about her, as she went back down the stairs. Chris’s fears for her had been well founded. Eileen was hooked on the man and the abuse.

Chapter 12