Quadruplets Make Six

by Nicole Elliot

  “Yes, but they don’t count.”

  “That’s not fair. You just said they counted.”

  Ava giggled as she took a sip of her coffee and the sound warmed my chest. Her smile lit up her bright hazel eyes, pulling from them yellow specks that reminded me of the sun. She was easy to talk to. Easy to banter back and forth with. It had been a long time since I enjoyed mindless conversation like this with someone.

  And it had been even longer since I had been willing to open up about myself.

  “What do you do for a living?” Ava asked.

  “For now, I’m an investor of sorts. Until it’s time for me to take over the family business,” I said.

  “Ah, so you have one of those, too.”

  “One of those what?” I asked.

  “Pesky family businesses. We have one of those. But I’m not allowed anywhere near it because I don’t have a penis.”

  “Good piece of information to know,” I said.

  “I don’t understand that. Why I can’t be a part of the family business because I’m a woman.”

  “I don’t get it, either. It’s an archaic notion. Some of the world’s top companies were built and are currently run by women,” I said.

  “I could do great things with that company if my father would just get out of my way,” she said.

  “I thought you didn’t want to talk about them.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she said, grinning.

  “Right now, I’m living off the trust fund that opened up when I turned thirty. I worked for my family’s business all through college and set all of it aside in savings. But life happened and it threw me down a different path, so when my trust fund opened up I invested it wisely. I live off my savings and the quarterly dividends I get from some of the company’s I’ve invested in,” I said.

  “Sounds smart. You’re a smart man, Mr. Travis Benson,” she said. “I’d love to live like that. Off money I invested so I wouldn’t have to deal with people. You’ve got the life.”

  “It was a very hard road getting here, so I wouldn’t be too envious of it,” I said.

  “Why?” she asked.

  I sighed as I looked up into Ava’s eyes.

  “It just was,” I said.

  “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine,” she said.

  “Well, I don’t.”

  “Okay. What’s your favorite color?”

  “What?” I asked.

  “Your favorite color.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?” I asked.

  “It doesn’t. It’s a change of subject. That’s what you wanted, right?” she asked.

  I snickered and shook my head as I took another sip of my coffee.

  “You’re a piece of work, you know that?” I asked.

  But then, a movement caught my attention out of the corner of my eye.

  I turned my head over towards the shadow, but there was no one over there. I studied the darkened corner and could’ve sworn I saw the outline of someone there, but Ava’s voice pulled me back to the conversation.

  “I try to be,” she said. “My favorite color’s yellow, by the way.”

  “For your sunny disposition?” I asked.

  “No. Because I really like lemonade,” she said.

  The two of us sat there and talked for hours, but now I had this darkness looming over me. It felt like someone was watching us. Like someone knew we were sitting together. I wasn’t sure why that weirded me out as much as it did, but I tried my best not to alert Ava to my worry. With everything mounting between my family’s company and Breathline Energies, I had to prepare myself for the idea that someone might be watching what I was doing.

  “Travis? You okay?”

  “What?” I asked.

  “You look a bit dazed,” I said. “Am I boring you already?”

  “Nope. You were talking about how if you went to college, you’d get a business degree, wait out your parents, then take your family’s company over anyway,” I said.

  “So you were listening,” she said, grinning.

  “To you? Yes,” I said.

  I looked back over at that corner and it was now filled with people. The corner was no longer dark, and in its place was a shelving of books and board games. I shook the feeling from my mind as Ava continued to talk about all the things she wanted to do with her life. I needed to not get so paranoid.

  After all, it wasn’t like I was doing anything that could get my family’s company in trouble. Just having some coffee with a beautiful woman with a fire in her gut to make something of herself.

  There was nothing wrong with that.

  Nine

  Ava

  The library was quiet this morning. People were coming and going with checkouts and returns, but I was tucked away in my little corner. It was my favorite spot in all of Kettle. Well, the part of Kettle I knew. My father kept close tabs on me whenever we were in town. Always wanted to know where I was going, what I was doing, why I was doing it, and when I would be back. Things were a little looser whenever we were in Seattle, but that was mostly because I had a driver to cart me around everywhere.

  I knew the driver reported back to my father on our whereabouts.

  But in Kettle, I was granted more freedoms. I could drive on my own and even go out with my brothers. But if I did, I had to be very specific with what was happening and my brothers came under scrutiny whenever we came home. So, I didn’t go out much with them. I hated subjecting them to that kind of torture whenever we would come in from dancing or hanging out at the coffee shop.

  The library was my favorite place for two reasons. One, my father would let me stay here as long as I wanted for reasons I still didn’t understand. And two? It was quiet. No questions. No judgement. And certainly no risk of impropriety anywhere. I would tuck myself away in my favorite corner with the latest books the library shipped in and I would read. For hours. It was how I escaped. It was how I envisioned other lives for myself. It was how I learned about the great businesswomen and how they succeeded in their lives.

  All of my education came from books. My understanding of the business world. My understanding of mathematics. My understanding of politics and history and love. All of it came from the books that surrounded me. Here, no one kept up with me. Here, no one tried to influence what I read. Here, I was allowed to make my own decisions regarding where I wanted to sit, how I wanted to sit, and what I wanted to read.

  I loved the library.

  But sometimes, it was shit.

  Like today, for instance. Word had already circulated that I had been in a car accident. I didn’t know how, and I didn’t know who started it, but everyone who saw me in my little corner came up and asked me if I was all right. If the storm had caught me off guard. They asked me all sorts of things, like what roads I had gotten lost on and what roads I needed to stay away from. It seemed that everyone in Kettle knew I had broken down somewhere and floundered during the storm.

  I just hoped and prayed they didn’t understand anything more than that.

  Kettle was a smaller town. It spanned the length and width of many mountains, but very few people lived here. So gossip spread like wildfire. And if you didn’t want to be caught up in it, then you didn’t come into town. Ever. But if I wanted the library, I had to come into town. Which meant I was met with people who kept interrupting me every page just to make sure I was okay.

  Which was code for ‘figure out exactly what happened’.

  “Miss Ava, I’m so glad you’re all right.”

  I looked up from my book and stared directly into the eyes of Miss Mabel.

  “Thank you, ma’am. I appreciate it,” I said. “It wasn’t a bad accident. The car runs just fine. The water just took me off the road a bit.”

  “Do you know what road you were on?” Miss Mabel asked.

  “No, ma’am. I’m sorry. I was so frantic and there was so much rain pouring down that I didn’t get a chance to look at any signs,” I s
aid.

  “That makes sense. You were probably up in those mountains anyway.”

  I stiffened at her response as she sat down in the chair next to me.

  “Don’t worry about it. No one’s gonna tell your father. He’s a sweet man, but we know he rules with an iron fist,” Mabel said.

  “My father is a decent man,” I said.

  “Spoken like a true robot,” she said with a giggle. “I’m familiar with men like your father. Mine was one of them, too.”

  “I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” I said.

  “Abides by tradition. Looms over your every move. Expects you to look and act a certain way. I hated growing up with my father.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” I said.

  “My favorite game was to swing around the columns of our porch out back and fantasize what it would be like to live without my father. I used to dream of owning my own home, buying my own clothes, and going to the school I wanted.”

  “At least you got to go to school,” I said with a murmur.

  I swallowed hard and looked up into Miss Mabel’s sparkling eyes. Mabel was a force in the community of Kettle. Her father had been the mayor for quite some time, which was a position her grandfather and her great grandfather used to occupy. Her family was well-known, well-off, and well-spoken in their manners. Her eyes were comforting and her smile was knowing. I felt that I could trust her, even though I’d only ever had a few conversations with her. She seemed to understand my circumstance more than most, and as she settled back into her chair I drew in a deep breath.

  “I was never really in any trouble anyway,” I said.

  “So you did get lost up there in the mountains,” Mabel said. “Don’t worry. I’ve done that more times than I could count.”

  “There was a man that helped me. Travis Benson. He’s the one that got my car up and running the next day so I could get home,” I said.

  “Travis Benson?” she asked.

  “Yes, ma’am. Quiet man? Big beard? Light brown eyes?”

  “No, no. I know who he is. I’m just shocked he helped,” she said.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “First off, I’m shocked you don’t know the name. The Bensons own half of Kettle. Travis lives in the part of the mountains they own. But he’s been a recluse ever since that disgusting woman broke his heart.”

  “What woman?” I asked.

  “Alicia Burnheart, and her last name suits her perfectly. A gold-digging, good-for-nothing woman who had that man wrapped around her finger. Those two were all over one another, and when they announced their engagement, no one was shocked.”

  “Engagement?” I asked. “I don’t think I can see Travis engaged.”

  “Maybe not now. But back then? In his early twenties? He was a stunner. Still is, if he’d trim himself up a bit. They planned the wedding of the century.”

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “She never showed up. Left him standing at the altar making excuses for two hours before Travis accepted the fact that she wasn’t showing up.”

  “What?” I asked flatly.

  “She did. Rumor has it she ran off with one of the groomsmen. But I don’t think that’s what happened.”

  “What do you think happened?” I asked.

  “I think his mother intervened. That woman always thought there was something off about Miss Burnheart. I think she saved her son from a great deal of grief he would’ve suffered later. Either way, he hasn’t been the same since. Travis, that is.”

  “Well, I don’t think anyone can blame him.”

  “It wasn’t too long after that he renounced his job in the family business and had that cabin built for him. He built one for all of his children, the head of the Benson clan. Everyone was heartbroken after that wedding. I think he did it partially out of grief.”

  My chest ached for Travis. The life he had lived and the things he had endured. I couldn’t imagine being able to fall in love, but to have it ripped from me on such an important date? The thought robbed me of the breath in my lungs. I had no idea why I was so invested in this story or why I cared so much, but I was hanging onto Miss Mabel’s every word.

  “So that’s why I’m shocked. He only comes into town when he needs something and, to my knowledge, he doesn’t talk to anyone,” Mabel said.

  “Well, I’m glad he was there. I’m not sure I would’ve survived the storm had he not been,” I said.

  “I’m just glad you’re all right, my child. And don’t worry. This fun little encounter will be our little secret.”

  Mabel gave me a playful wink before she picked up her cane and left. I watched her walk away as the story spun around in my head. Was what she said true? Had someone really broken that poor man’s heart like that? It would explain why he was such a recluse. But if he was a recluse, then why did he agree to have coffee with me the other day? We talked for the entire afternoon. That wasn’t what recluses did, right?

  I wasn’t sure why I cared about any of it. But I knew I was curious.

  And I found myself hoping I would run into him again.

  Ten

  Ava

  It was a rainy day in Kettle and I was closed up in my room. My brothers were downstairs talking away with my father while my mother sat and worked on her needlepoint. Fucking needlepoint. Like we lived in the damn thirties. I was sitting in my room reading a book. Well, a book that was appropriate for a woman to read, according to my father. The classics were his favorite, so we were all well-versed in them. But I had a fun little trick. I would rent out the books I wanted to read alongside the books my father wanted me to read. Then, I would switch the book covers just in case my father barged in without knocking.

  Which was always.

  The cover said ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’, but I was actually reading ‘The Art Of Public Speaking’. If I wanted to be a businesswoman one day, I had to get comfortable with the idea of talking to a room full of people. And with a father who expected me to stand in a corner and not speak until spoken to, public speaking wasn’t something I practiced on a regular basis. I devoured Dale Carnegie’s books. I thought he had a lot of valuable information for me to learn. But I had to be careful about when I read my books. I kept a book light stored underneath my mattress so I could read well after my parents had gone to bed.

  Which meant I was taking a grave chance reading this book in the middle of the day.

  “Ava! Sweetheart! Could you come downstairs!?”

  I heard my mother’s voice waft up the stairs as I dropped my book in my lap. I opened up the secret compartment in my bedside table and shoved my book in there. I smoothed my dress out with my hands and tried to look appropriate before I started for the stairs, but my heart was pounding in my chest. My brothers told me they would talk to my father eventually, but had they already done it? Was this why I had been beckoned?

  Had they convinced my father that I didn’t have to marry?

  I saw my brothers sitting around, but their faces were blank. I couldn’t get a read on them and that worried me. Finn shot me a comforting grin while Lorenzo nodded his head, but Hunter was still fuming. I could see it behind his eyes.

  “Sit,” my father said.

  I went over to my chair in the room and sat down with my back straight. I crossed my legs at my ankles and folded my hands together. I looked up at him as he raked his eyes over me, taking in my obedient form before he nodded in approval. Like he was prepared for me to do something wrong before he could grace me with his voice.

  “Your brothers and I have been… talking,” my father said.

  “Oh?” I asked.

  “Just listen,” he said.

  I nodded and bowed my eyes to my lap as I squeezed my hands for comfort.

  “It has come to my attention that this Timothy Wells might not be all he claims to be,” my father said.

  I slowly raised my head, my brow furrowed in confusion.

  “No need to worry yourself over it. Thes
e are things dealt with between men. But, he is no longer suitable to marry my daughter.”

  I felt my heart leap for joy in my chest. My eyes settled onto my brothers, but they didn’t look as pleased as I was. I knew there was a ‘but’ coming, so I tried to brace myself through my happiness.

  But it was hard, because I was elated that I wouldn’t have to marry that man.

  “In the meantime, you have a date this evening,” my father said.

  “What?” I asked.

  He shot me a look that should have prompted me to swallow my tongue. But all it did was fuel my anger.

  They were setting me up on another fucking date!?

  “There is a lovely gentleman that works in Mr. Wells’ company. He’s a bit younger. Up and coming. Graduated from Yale and was also educated at Cambridge. Comes from a good family and would make a suitable husband,” my father said.

  “But that’s what you also thought about Mr. Wells,” I said.

  My father shot me another look, but I wasn’t having it.

  “Why in the world do I have to marry?” I asked.

  “Ava, settle down,” my mother said.

  “I’m not yelling and I’m not upset. I just want to know why I am expected to marry,” I said.

  “Because that is your place, Ava. You are my beautiful daughter, and you will get nothing but the best. Mr. Wells was not the best, and it was to the courtesy of your brothers that you owe the dissolution of that proposal. I suggest you thank them,” my father said.

  “I don’t think so,” I said. “Because me telling you I’m not ready to marry should’ve been enough.”

  “That will be all, Ava,” my father said.

  “No, no it won’t be.”

  I stood to my feet as my brothers stood to theirs.

  “The way this family operates is insane. We live in the twenty-first century, Dad. Women are running entire corporations,” I said.

  “Not this again. Ava, I have explained to you why you cannot take over the family business,” my mother said.

  “You have what?” my father asked.

  “I’m not even talking about the family business! Dad, you’re trying to marry me off like I’m some sort of property to you. And I’m not. I’m not a business transaction. You can’t barter and borrow with my virginity,” I said.