Page 51 of The Last Housewife


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His brows knit. “What are you doing?”

“Press Record. I’ll show you.”

“Why do you even want to be interviewed? Thousands of people are going to listen. You realize that, right? Everyone’s going to know.”

“You’re a journalist, Jamie. Don’t you want me to crack my heart open? Isn’t a confession every reporter’s wet dream? I’m telling you because you can’t have the truth about Laurel without getting the truth about me.”

He looked back at me, eyes wild and unreadable, like I’d caught him somewhere liminal, pulled in a million different directions. He swayed toward me, like a moth dipping toward flame, and I thought, for one charged moment, that he might kiss me.

But he regained his balance and stilled.

I shoved the phone into his chest. “Come on, Jamie. Press it.”

Chapter Sixteen

TransgressionsEpisode 705, interview transcript: Shay Deroy, Sept. 6, 2022, Part Two (unabridged)

SHAY DEROY:After Mr. X, Don started bringing home other men, always one at a time. Some of them wanted the same things, and it was hard on those nights to remember Don had our best interests at heart. But some of them just wanted to spend time with us. There was one who would sit in an armchair in Don’s living room, watching us vacuum and dust the drapes in our aprons. We would bring him dinner on a tray, refill his cocktail, and say, “Is that all, sir?” Maybe he’d slip a hand up our skirt, run his fingers over our pantyhose, but that was it. There was another who stayed completely silent. He’d close his eyes when I came near, like I scared him. One night he finally said, “This living room is the only safe place left in America.” I thought it was strange, but I guess Don understood. He said, “I knew you’d find peace with my little housewives.”

Clem didn’t hide the fact that she hated when he called us his wives. There were a million clues she was planning something else, but it wasn’t until the day Don took us to the city, and we ran into you, that I knew for sure. He’d been much stricter since the night Clem tried to escape. We weren’t allowed to grocery shop anymore, and when we had to go to class, Rachel waited for us outside our classrooms. But that day, Don had a meeting with a business partner and said we could come. I think he could sense even Laurel was getting restless. He said we could get ice cream cones while we waited for him to finish.

JAMIE:The three of you were sitting outside Miss Marple’s Ice Cream, at one of those wrought-iron tables, only a few blocks from my dorm. I almost didn’t recognize you. You were shockingly pale and bone thin. And you were wearing that awful dress. When I realized who I was looking at, I stopped in my tracks. Some guy walked right into me, called me an asshole, but I barely registered it.

SHAY:Imagine how I felt. After we moved in, Don told us we shouldn’t talk to anyone from our old lives or go home anymore, because our families and friends were the ones who’d failed us, and we needed to cleanse ourselves of them. The first year, at Christmas, I thought my mom would protest. But Don was right. She had a new boyfriend by then, and she didn’t care that I wasn’t coming home. After that, Don asked us to give up our cell phones. By the time I saw you walking down the street, it was like seeing a ghost. And you had this look on your face I knew was trouble.

JAMIE:You wouldn’t meet my eyes.

SHAY:I was scared Rachel would come back from the bathroom and catch us talking.

JAMIE:You wouldn’t even acknowledge me. I kept saying, “Shay, it’s me,” but you wouldn’t speak.

SHAY:I needed you to go away.

JAMIE:Clem introduced herself, started talking a mile a minute, like she was desperate to connect, but Laurel told me to leave, sounded almost hysterical. I’d been trying to get in touch with you for over a year, and suddenly you were right in front of me. I had to plead my case. I couldn’t just let you go.

SHAY:You begged to talk alone. There’s no way I could’ve done that.

JAMIE:Your eyes were hollow.Youwere the ghost.

SHAY:Don came back while you were there, Jamie. Literally, the worst thing that could’ve happened, happened. Can you imagine if I’d acted interested, and he’d noticed you? What do you think would’ve happened?

JAMIE:I wish he’d noticed me. All I knew was this man rounds the corner, and suddenly you’re practically crying, running away from me like I’m a stranger harassing you. We’ve been friends since we were five.

SHAY:You weren’t my friend that day. You were a man who wasn’t Don—a threat.

JAMIE:I should’ve followed you, but I was just so stunned. It haunts me, what I should’ve done.

SHAY:Well, you got through to someone.

JAMIE:What?

SHAY:That night, when the three of us were in bed and the lights went out, Clem whispered, “That was the boy you told us about. Your friend from growing up.”

It felt like admitting something shameful, but I said, “Yes. Jamie.”

Clem thought it was strange I was afraid of you. She said, “He used to be your best friend. You told us how nice he was.”

But Laurel whispered, “They’re all nice until they get you alone. Don says every one of them’s hungry. Just waiting for their opportunity.”

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