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The salt-touched breeze still clung to my skin as I pushed open the kitchen door and entered the Big House. The large room was empty, and I continued through it and down the hall to the soaring entry foyer. A grand staircase greeted me, rising three flights. A bedroom on the second floor was my sanctuary—close enough to feel the pulse of family life and high enough to gaze upon the sea’s expanse. I tossed my sweaty baseball hat on the familiar dresser, its surface a collage of seashells and photographs.
After showering and changing into crisp black pants and a plain white T-shirt, I reached for my phone. My thumb found my brother’s name with practiced ease, and the ringing tone filled the space between anticipation and apprehension.
“Hey, Stella,” came Hunter’s deep voice.
“Hello yourself,” I replied, sitting on my bed. “Just wanted to hear your voice. How’s the big city treating you?”
“Same old concrete jungle, but different palm trees,” he replied, but I could hear the tightness behind his words—the distance he felt from the sun-soaked shores of home. South Beach was less than four hours away, but more than distance separated him from us. My little brother was anything but little. At thirty-one, he was four years younger than me and a veritable granite mountain of a man. A mountain of many dark shades.
“Listen, I’m tossing around the idea of a casual family lunch,” I said, my words dancing around the suggestion. “Thought maybe you’d want to come down? Nothing fancy, just… us family.”
There was a brief silence, the kind that spoke volumes. I imagined him on the other end, weighing the simplicity of the offer against the complexities of our family. “Stell, you know I’d love to see you,” he began, and I could picture him shifting in his chair. “But are you just talking sandwiches on the patio?”
“Okay, so maybe there’s a slight chance of Dad wanting to eat whatever he catches that morning,” I conceded with a laugh, trying to keep the mood light. “And sure, Evan might be there, but…”
“But we have to start somewhere, right?” Hunter’s tone warmed despite his caution. “You’ve always been the heart of this family. Trying to keep us together, even the ones hell-bent on being islands unto ourselves.”
“Someone has to, right?” I joked, though my chest tightened at his words. A reunion, even a strained one, was a step toward mending the deep crack between him and Evan. And this time I’d be right there in the middle to keep my brothers from tearing each other apart.
“All right, I’ll think about it.”
The silence lingered in the air after Hunter’s tentative promise, and I could almost picture his lowered brow through the phone, the way he’d rake a hand through his hair when a conversation treaded too close to rough waters.
“I know it’s not easy.” My voice softened automatically. “After the accident… Just remember—there were two victims that day. Not just one.”
Hunter let out a sigh, a sound that seemed to travel across miles of ocean and memory, settling heavily on my heart. “No. Only one victim—Evan. And two brothers who don’t speak anymore.”
“But you’re both trying now. We’re family. And everyone’s agreed too much time has passed. Even Evan. He knows damn well he was out of line at Gabe’s wedding.” I pushed the image out of my head. Even though I’d been in the kitchen that evening—when Evan and Hunter had gotten into it at Gabe and April’s wedding reception—I could picture the scene all too clearly. A determined spark ignited within me. “It’s time to try to repair this leaky old boat. And I’m here to help. We’re supposed to get through storms together, right?”
“Sometimes it feels more like a hurricane,” Hunter replied, but the ice was breaking, bit by bit.
“Even hurricanes pass. And then we rebuild.”
“Idiot brothers and all, huh?”
“Especially the idiot brothers.” I couldn’t help but laugh, shaking my head. “You guys are a handful, but I wouldn’t trade you for the world. All three of you. You can bring a date if you want to.”
He groaned. “God, no. I don’t have time to date. Besides, the old homestead seems to be the place sending out love waves these days. Which means you’re next for Cupid’s arrow.”
I wrinkled my nose and tried not to shudder. “Absolutely not. You think you don’t have time to date? Welcome to my world. No men for me—except for family, of course. I’ll make sure the lunch is casual and low key, I promise.”
“All right, Stel.” His voice, a blend of resignation and affection, came through the phone. “Let me know when you get it set up.”
“Promise me you’ll give it a chance.” I consciously relaxed my hand clenching the phone.
“I already did, remember? Evan was the one who pushed us into the pool, not me.” He paused again, then his voice lightened. “But I’ll do my best to keep us dry this time. How’s that?”
I could hear the half-smile tugging at his lips, a rare expression on Hunter’s face. I was one of the few who got to see this sweet, funny side of him. We talked a while longer, discussing his job in private security for an agency in South Beach. He didn’t sound happy, though he’d never come right out and say that. He never did.
Finally, we said goodbye, and the click of the call ending was louder than I expected. My fingers lingered on the black surface of my phone, tracing the edges while my mind traced possibilities. My chest filled with a cocktail of emotions—pride for stepping into my new role at Orchid, weariness from the transition, and a tremulous hope for healing between Hunter and Evan.
Returning to my closet, I luxuriated in pulling on my crisp white chef’s coat. Dad had presented me with the coat a few days ago. My fingers found the embroidered words on my left breast.
“Stella Markham, Head Chef,” I murmured to myself, testing out the title. It had a nice ring to it, even if the echo of responsibility was intimidating. Orchid was part of my heritage, a legacy entwined with the blooms I adored so much. Several of them flourished on a stand near the door to my deck.
My laughter burst out unexpectedly, breaking the silence of the room. With three brothers who each harbored their own brand of chaos, my life was already a whirlwind of love, frustration, and unspoken bonds. Three men who, despite their flaws, were the pillars of my tumultuous world. Along with a fourth pillar we all leaned on—Dad.
Four men in my life. Four men who had a tendency to stir up enough drama to last a lifetime. I hadn’t been on a date in several years, but I didn’t mind. I lived for two things, career and family. Both kept me plenty busy and very fulfilled.
