Eleanor came from old money, and with her came a sizeable dowry that had helped Sidney buy his seat on the Chicago Board of Trade and launch his career as a money manager. In the years that followed, Sidney’s income was used to pay the family’s living expenses, including the various homes, the boys’ education, and Eleanor’s sumptuous lifestyle. He felt that he had paid his dues but knew Eleanor would never view it the same way. She believed she owned half of everything, and, legally, she did. But things were getting dicey with the market, he said, and he was becoming increasingly agitated. He tried to get Eleanor to cancel her annual New Year’s extravaganza, but she threatened to leave him. She didn’t have to spell out the grounds for divorce and the high price he would pay. They finally agreed on what Eleanor considered a reasonable budget for her party—one hundred thousand dollars. She was determined to get Yo-Yo Ma to play for her guests, but he came with a price tag of forty-five thousand dollars an hour. Still, she couldn’t resist hiring the world-famous cellist. It would be the talk of the town. She would figure out the rest of the budget later, including buying just enough Dom Pérignon for the first round of champagne. Then she would have the staff pour cheaper champagne into the empty Dom bottles. No one would know the difference. Tipping the staff more than usual would keep it her little secret. Eleanor had no shame when it came to pretenses. Neither did anyone else in her circle, for that matter.
Liam and Noah dreaded those social events. They were much more down-to-earth. Some people think that attending a boarding school causes people to be emotionally distant. In their case, “emotionally distant” described their home life. Only away from their home did they receive any positive attention. At home, callous disregard on the part of their parents was the norm.
Christmas was a flurry of visitors coming and going. It was controlled pandemonium. Why people went through the exercise of buying gifts no one needed or even wanted had always puzzled them. The only explanation was to see who could outdo everyone else. It was over the top.
When it came to Eleanor’s gift from the boys, she would pause very briefly and give the obligatory “Thank you. It was very thoughtful,” knowing full well it was something she had ordered for herself. The only participation from Liam and Noah was to pick it up from either Nordstrom or Bloomingdale’s, or one of the 900 North Michigan Shops.
The holidays were nothing more than another opportunity to show off. Liam and Noah were counting down the days to when they could return to palm trees, autonomy, and not having to hold their breath while navigating Eleanor’s stringent schedule. One more night of feigning enjoyment was up next: the big New Year’s Eve gala, hosted by the social elitist Eleanor Adams Westlake.
Fortunately, most of the guests would be Sidney’s and Eleanor’s age, and the boys could weave their way through the crowd of more than a hundred without too much interaction. Saying “Hello,” “Nice to see you,” and “Happy Holidays” a few times would suffice. They referred to it as their “cameo appearance.”
As soon as the musical entertainment was over, the boys disappeared into the kitchen, where they knew they could find the real champagne. A wink was all it took for Margaret to pull out one of the few remaining bottles of “the good stuff.”
Liam gave Margaret a peck on the cheek. “You’re the best.” And to Liam, she was. Margaret had been with the family since the boys were infants. She had started out as one of the nannies and become head housekeeper once the boys went off to boarding school. She was reserved and efficient, qualities that Eleanor appreciated. And Eleanor appreciated very little. It was in Eleanor’s best interest to keep Margaret rather than have to train someone in the family protocol. Eleanor had a way of losing staff in the same way Sidney was losing his hair. Fortunately for Margaret, she didn’t have to be concerned with finding another job. She knew how to navigate the personalities, was very fond of the boys, and treated them royally when they were home. Margaret had never married or had children, and she nurtured the twins as if they were her own.
Noah grabbed the bottle from Margaret’s hand. He didn’t bother to pour it in a glass and took a big swig from the hundred-and-fifty-dollar bottle of bubbly. Margaret gave him a look of disapproval and motioned for the boys to scram before they got caught.
Liam and Noah headed out the back entrance and made their way to the pool house, which also served as their hangout when the house was jammed with people.
The fifteen-hundred-square-foot pool house was decked out with all the amenities. It had a vaulted ceiling, and a freestanding fireplace divided the living room and kitchen area from the king-sized-bed sleeping alcove. The bathroom suite contained a sauna and a steam room. It was big enough for a small family but also served as a guesthouse if the five other additional bedrooms were occupied.
Noah flopped into one of the chaise lounges. “So what do you think old man Coulson has to say?” He took another pull from the bottle, then handed it to Liam.
Liam paused. “Dunno. But don’t you think Dad’s been acting a little uptight lately? More than usual, I mean.”
Noah grunted. “Maybe he’s not getting laid enough. It is the holidays, after all. People go on vacation, visit their families. I’m sure the trollops do the same.”
Liam shook his head. Even though Sidney had been involved in many extramarital affairs, Liam chose to relegate it to the back of his mind. Way back. Noah looked at him. “Oh, come on, little brother.” Noah liked to remind Liam that he was born twelve minutes earlier. “He’s been doing it for years. I doubt he stopped just because we left for college and he wants to keep Mother company.”
Liam took a swig and handed the bottle back to Noah. “Like that might happen. But Dad definitely does seem a little off.”
They both sat in silence for several minutes. Liam got up and turned on the gas fireplace. Staring at the flames, he said, “Do you have any idea what you want to be doing next year? I mean, you changed your major, what, three times?”
Noah shrugged. “I really don’t want to keep going to school, that’s for sure, but college life has been the bomb.”
“Yes, but even if you continued your education, you’d have to be gainfully employed at some point, no?” Liam was being circumspect with his brother.
“No!” Noah roared with laughter. “Not if I don’t have to be!” He finished off the champagne with a guzzle.
Looking at his watch, Liam said, “We should be getting back to Mother’s celebration before the ball drops.”
“God forbid we miss all the phony air kisses!” Noah slapped his brother on the back, making loud kissing sounds.
When they got back to the main house the music from the ten-piece band was blaring. Eleanor had gotten them to play for free with the promise they would get exposure to some of the most influential people in Chicago. A master manipulator, Eleanor knew no one would give a hoot about the band, especially after listening to the world’s greatest cellist.
Liam and Noah positioned themselves on each side of their mother and father. The mandatory stance. Liam thought to himself, Fake news? How about fake family. Fake fun.
People were shouting the countdown. “Three, two, one! Happy New Year!” Then came the fake kisses.
Sidney motioned for the boys. He wanted to introduce them to one of his colleagues. Daniel Josephson Ruffing, “DJ” to his friends and associates, Ruffing was a billionaire. He was hovering around the age of fifty but took every precaution to slow down Father Time. His salt-and-pepper hair was neatly trimmed around his Botoxed forehead, and he was in good physical condition. You wouldn’t necessarily call him handsome, but his wealth made up for his lack of physical attractiveness.
He had an enormous estate on the coast of Cuba, rumored to be a “playground for the rich.” Rich men, that is.
“Daniel, you remember my sons, Liam and Noah?”
“Of course. How are you gents doing these days? Staying out of trouble?” Daniel extended his hand to Liam, then to Noah.
Liam shook the well-tanned, manicured hand of the billionaire and thought to himself, Why does everyone ask that same stupid question? No. I’m on parole. Duh. “We do our best.” He smiled.