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20
Noah
Ican’t be too mad about how Isaac handled Stella the other day. She asked him something point blank, and he hesitated. She sought reassurance, and he didn’t have any to give her. Our futures are somewhat pre-written. They have been since we were born. We have dreams and ambitions, we have plans and prerogatives to follow. Traditions to uphold. Reputations to protect and further grow. Our parents raised us well in that sense, and regardless of our feelings for Stella, Isaac and I agree that it wouldn’t work out in the end.
Levi knows it, too. Beau is fully aware though anything but happy about it. We’ve talked about this more than once, and there is only one thing we’ve managed to agree upon—we care about Stella. We’ve fallen for her, each of us in our own way, and what we’ve got going together is beautiful and unlike any other past relationship. It’s complicated and weird, it’s rare and precious, but it’s also dangerous and not really meant to last. We could go on for the rest of our lives sharing this marvelous woman, looking after her and her children. We’re fond of Ava and Lucas, too. But the truth is… it was never going to be sustainable.
“I was talking to Mitch the other day,” Dad says at one point during dinner, looking at Isaac. “He said he’s ready to put you on his staff as soon as next year if you’re ready. He’s considering a second run for state senate, and you could be on his team from the beginning of the campaign. You’ve already got everything you need to make your mark there.”
“Thanks, Dad, but I think I’ll wait another year or two. I’m not really finished with the Elizabeth or any of our other businesses, for that matter,” Isaac says.
“The sooner you get started, the easier it’ll be when you make your own bid, son. Remember the five-year plan we discussed?”
Isaac exhales sharply, unable to hide his frustration. “Yes, I remember the plan. It doesn’t mean I have to follow it to the letter. Considering this economy and the hurdles we’re having to deal with in order to grow our business portfolio, I can’t exactly drop everything right now. It’s too soon. Noah needs me on board.”
“Truth be told, Mr. Kendrick, we all need him,” Levi says.
We’re rarely together like this—me, my brother, our parents, Levi, and Beau gathered around the same table. The awkward part about tonight is that one of the waitresses came down with a bad case of food poisoning, so Stella is filling in for her, quietly clearing the plates and bowls before another waitress brings in the main course. I’d enjoy the beef roast a lot more if she could join us.
The conversation is loaded with tension, though. The four of us are still mulling over how much longer we can keep it going with Stella, while my parents keep pressing us about speeding everything up so Isaac can make the shift into his predestined political career. We’ve spent our whole lives preparing for this moment, yet everything has changed between then and now. It changed because of Stella, and we know it. Mom and Dad don’t know the root of it, but they can tell there’s some resistance here, some reason keeping my brother and me from moving along the way we originally agreed.
Mom starts cutting through her steak with firm hands, gold rings clinking with every move. “The three of you are perfectly capable of running the Elizabeth without Isaac,” she says. “And I think the boys would be happy to sell you shares in our other hotels, as well, if you’re interested. The move would benefit everyone, particularly Isaac.”
“Mom, Levi has a TV deal he’s working on as well as a successful writing career beyond the hospitality business,” Isaac cuts in. “And Beau just purchased a chain of hotels on the West Coast. They’re swamped, and it wouldn’t be fair nor reasonable to toss more into their laps just so I can go rub elbows with every scourge in the Maine senate.”
“These scourges will help you build your political career,” Mom insists. “Honey, you’re going to be President someday. Hopefully before your father and I leave this world. It’s too important for you to waste any more time on this hotel nonsense.”
Dad clears his throat and takes a long sip of his wine while Stella refills his glass with water, constantly stealing wary glances at us. “Honey, again with this angle. You know damn well they need their own space, they need to make their own mistakes along the way. All I did was suggest a starting point with Mitch for Isaac, but we can’t force him to do something he clearly isn’t ready to do.”
“I know, I know, I just don’t want them to waste too much time on this when they could be making real progress,” Mom replies.
The conversation continues as we tell our parents about the recent acquisitions and the future changes we’ll be making to all of our properties. I do appreciate Mom and Dad for the way they sit and listen to everything we have to say—Mom is often tempted to intervene with unsolicited advice, but she’s always been like that. Isaac and I have learned to not take any of it personally.
I watch Stella as she comes in and out of the dining room, carrying various plates and other accessories, her eyes always scanning the room and stopping on the four of us. There’s sadness in her gaze, and it’s making me feel uneasy. I hate that it’s come to this. We were happy and carefree, having our fun in private and exploring one another, consuming one another until we’d pass out from physical exhaustion. Our hearts were full of joy and sweetness, yet I can taste the bitterness on the tip of my tongue now.
She’s in a lot of pain, and I’m well aware that our inability to give her more is what’s causing this. We’re failing to come through for her on a deeper level, and it’s showing. Levi can barely look at her. Beau gives her the longest looks, each followed by a deep sigh as he then pretends to listen to our parents’ conversation with Isaac regarding his plans.
And Isaac… Isaac, much like me, is helpless, watching her and wishing we hadn’t been born with our last name. The responsibilities of our dynasty used to be something we looked forward to taking on, but it has become an unpleasant chore. It no longer sparks the old passion that used to have the both of us gleefully jumping out of bed every morning.
“Levi, tell us about the TV show. How is the project coming along?” Dad asks just as Stella clears the main course plates from the table. “Will you be producing it yourself?”
“I’ve been offered an executive producer credit,” Levi says. “We’re supposed to sign a contract soon, and we’ll start shooting midwinter.”
“You know, I’ve read those books,” Mom replies with a bright smile. “Dinah Steele is definitely one of my favorite heroines. I do love how you mix the thriller and horror aspects into something actually palatable. I tried reading those Stephen King novels, but by the stars, I was sick to my stomach.”
Levi laughs. “To be honest, Mrs. Kendrick, I drew a lot of my inspiration from his style. I’m but a humble apprentice, one might say.”
“Oh, no, honey, you’re way better,” Mom quips. “I could actually sit down and finish yours. I’m just glad to hear you’re taking it to the next level. You’ll be moving to Hollywood, then?”
A fork slips from one of the plates in Stella’s hands. It hits the floor with an unbearable clang, drawing all the focus onto her, which is clearly the last thing she wanted. “Sorry,” she whispers.
“Don’t worry about it,” Dad replies, ready to continue the conversation. “Beau, how long before you reopen those West Coast hotels?”
The color drains from Stella’s face. I freeze in my seat as I realize something is wrong here. She’s so pale, shaking like a leaf and wobbling back and forth. My heart starts racing.
“I’m not sure,” Beau says, not noticing her sudden change. “I’m supposed to discuss a few things with the interior designer for the—”
“Hold on,” I cut him off. “Stella, are you okay?”
