The CEO’s Quadruplets

            Isabella sat there on the sofa quietly. The parallels of her life and Valentina’s felt unreal. She had never heard this story before, but Amory never kept secrets. It gave her the suspicion that neither Anne or Amory had heard this tale before. It also brought about a sense of guilt for never getting to know her mother-in-law in spite of Amory’s own anxieties surrounding his only living parent. Shame made Isabella’s ears get hot. Sipping her virgin punch could not change that.

            “What changed then?”

            She shrugged. “Nothing really. Amory mattered to him too. We just learned to lead separate lives. He had his younger women to entertain him, and I had my son. I made him swear to keep his flaws from Amory, which was only part of how I closed that boy off from the world. Anne told me what was wrong, you know, and I feel like I should take the blame for it in some ways. I never let him see the danger in young beautiful women who have little to lose and everything to gain. They are volatile, and so is that little starlet getting her name splashed on gossip rags.”

            Isabella’s voice rose in anger and shock. “Wait, she’s putting in the magazines?!”

            She stopped herself. Isabella did not want to make a scene with the baby shower mostly over. When everyone was gone, she could yell at the walls about this piece of information.

            Valentina nodded. “If you want traction, you know the old saying, Isabella: all publicity is good… or whatever. You know what I mean.”

            “Yeah.” Isabella was fuming about that brat.

            “But my Amory is not like his father. You also have me to thank for that. My husband loved the money and power. My son loves telling stories and making films. He thinks of it as way to make the world a better place and providing an opportunity for new stories to be told. He’s wrapped up in a dream I made for him, and that too came with its own costs. Still, I think if anyone can bring him down from his dream cloud without bursting his rose-colored bubble, it would be you, Isabella.”

            “How come?”

            “Because I see myself in you. You aren’t afraid of money or social status. You don’t give it power. You love Amory, and you love your children. You just have to strike a balance between the two. Still, if there ever comes a day to do it, always pick your children.”

            Isabella laughed. “My mother once told me something similar when I was a teenager taking care of a flour sack.”

            Valentina shared her laughter as the smile finally reflected in her eyes. She stood up quickly after finishing off her drink, saying, “Behati Torres is a clever woman, and I need to find more wine.”

            “Thank you, Valentina,” Isabella said quietly. “But your story does make me ask, if you don’t mind answering, how did Anne come about then?”

            Her mother-in-law gave her a genuine smile. “A family trip to the coast of Portugal and too much port wine.”

            It was not too long before the place had been drunk dry that the party began to fizzle out. Catering staff cleaned up the house quickly as Isabella slipped into something more comfortable. She pulled up her braids into a bun on her head, and tied off a bandana around her head. Pulling a terry cloth sweatshirt and fleece leggings over her wide belly, Isabella felt like an off-duty Rosie the Riveter. When she came back down the stairs, Anne had just ushered out the hired crew before departing herself.

            “If you need anything, let me know. I left the leftover nibbles in your fridge and pantry, so help yourself to all the mini quiches and grapes your heart desires!”

            “Thanks, Anne. Drive safe, okay? It looks like rain.”

            Anne nodded, waving goodbye as she pulled off into the darkening horizon. The gray clouds loomed, but Isabella did not mind them. In the land of sunshine, a good rain sometimes felt like a treat, and Isabella could already smell the scent of oncoming precipitation. As she went the to kitchen to make herself a pot of tea, Isabella heard rain tap against the windows. She called Romeo in from chasing birds in the backyard before he got too wet. He shook his little body on her feet as the start of the rain shower cascaded off his fur and onto her feet.

Pulling a sandwich from a tray in the fridge, she bit into chicken salad sandwich before slowly moving to the glass doors. The rain steadily increased from drizzle to downpour in the time it took for Isabella to finish brewing the cup of red tea that she now had in hand.

Pulling a bag of cookies from the cabinet, she went back to the family room where the television sat. Putting on reruns of her favorite detective show, Isabella watched closed cases as the late afternoon passed into a dark evening. Romeo snuggled himself next to the warmth of Isabella’s, and the touch of him was a quiet comfort. Still, it did not replace a human touch. She scratched her dog’s ears as he drifted off to canine dreamland.

The heavy rain slacked off some, but the shower remained. It seemed that it would pass on through until the morning, which bummed Isabella out. She had an early final for her course to get to tomorrow, but it would just mean a dark drive and sleepy students filling out their one-hundred question test. She imagined the longer drive sitting in the back of the black car that came for her thanks to the bad weather. Everyone in Los Angeles, California seemed to panic whenever it rained or was cloudy outside. That made things difficult, but it was manageable. Especially since that she did not have to be the one to navigate the early morning streets of the downtown area.

            The last few sips of Isabella’s tea had grown cold when the doorbell echoed through the house. She had almost fallen asleep, but the deep-sounding chimes made her eyes open wide. Assuming it was a friend who left a phone or a wallet, Isabella pulled herself up onto her tired feet, and then shuffled to the front of the house. As the doorbell rang out again, Isabella called down the hall, hoping to save herself from a third chime. When she finally arrived at the door, Bella was met with quite the surprise.

            Amory stood at their doorstep, hair dripping down as rainwater soaked him from head to toe. She remembered what Anne had said about Amory looking like a wet dog, and Isabella’s image of that actually matched the real thing standing before her. They had not laid eyes on each other in four months. The only contact they had was the flowers he kept sending like nice-smelling texts. Isabella felt stunned to see him after so long, but by the look in his eyes alone she wanted to forgive him and beg forgiveness herself.

The memory of what Valentina had told her earlier in the day rang out, and she knew the woman had been right about it all. The time had stretched on, and looking back at the time passed between them. As she looked him over, the fear of seeing him again she hardly realized that she had showed suddenly, but went away just as quickly as it had shown its ugly head. Letting him step inside, he dripped on the foyer rug and shuddered from the chill of being soaked to the bone.

            Pushing aside his wet hair, Amory asked in a nervous tone, “I heard you wanted to talk?”