Danny had just smoked a big joint out by the pool, waiting for the jacuzzi to warm up. When Jonathan called him to come upstairs, he knew he’d be leaving that hot bubbling water to go to waste, not to mention a perfectly good buzz.

Margaret shook her head as she paced around her study upstairs, Danny sitting in the big chair, Jonathan leaning against Margaret’s big marble-topped desk. “I don’t like it,” she said, “something’s going on.”

Danny waved her off. “Oh, c’mon. She’s mopey and depressed and we jump all over her, now she’s cheering up and we do the same thing. At some point, y’know, y’gotta wonder … ”

Jonathan sternly demanded, “Wonder what?”

“Maybe we’re driving the girl nuts! All this hovering, growing up like a museum piece. Hiring actors to party on the yacht — ”

“That was a good way to make sure I knew who those people were,” Margaret said. “Besides, it was Jonathan’s idea.”

“What does Jonathan know about having friends,” Danny asked, “he’s only got subordinates. You too, Mom. Even I just go from girl to girl, but at least I got my gang of four, hangin’ out by the beach, sweet buds, and cool waves. But … more and more, I think Amy’s right. We’re like some weird coven of rich witches, y’know? Amy does need to get out more, we all do. And talk about needing to get laid, Mom, you gotta climb outta that chastity belt and get yourself laid — ”

Jonathan’s fist came fast and hard, disorienting, Danny’s words punctuated by his own grunt as he rolled out of the chair. The hardwood floor rose up to meet him, a hard thunk against the side of his head. Before he realized, he was looking up at Jonathan, shaking his pounding head and holding his throbbing jaw.

All Danny could think to say was, “What the fuck, man?”

“You watch your mouth,” Jonathan said, pointing an angry finger at his fallen brother, “I’ll knock every last tooth out of your head.”

Danny pushed himself to his feet, shaking his head, but he didn’t have a chance to speak.

“Boys, stop,” Margaret said. “We’ve got a real problem here.”

“Damn right we do,” Danny said, glaring at Jonathan.

“Amy, boys, we have to think about Amy.” After a tense pause, Margaret added, “Go see her friend, Isla. Found out what’s really going on here. She’s no dummy, and if she’s got some secret, she’ll try to keep it and she’ll know you want it. So be smart about it, boys. Now get moving.”

* * *

Isla shook her head, Danny and Jonathan following her across her condo living room. “Of course she was depressed,” Isla said, “she hates how you two are always shadowing her, keeping her locked up in the compound. She’s a grown woman, why don’t you let her live her life?”

Jonathan snapped, “The way you live yours?”

Isla spat out a contemptuous huff. “I work for one of the rising stars of the fashion world, not suckling at my mommy’s corporate teat.”

“I could buy and sell you a hundred times over,” Jonathan rebuked.

“Hey, hey,” Danny said, holding his hands out to calm them. “Let’s all take it easy. Isla, we’re just worried about Amy, okay?”

“Why? She’s walkin’ on air these days.”

“That’s why,” Jonathan said. “What are you two doing together?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Isla questioned him.

“Are you lovers, is that it? Did you finally make it into her pants after all these years? Maybe you’re having orgies in this dump, who knows? But you better come clean about it one way or the other.”

“Or what?” Isla stepped closer towards Jonathan.

The two were nearing to a physical clash. Danny forced himself between them, flattened hands separating them from one another. “Really, c’mon you two. We’ve had enough fighting today, right?” Danny turned to Isla. “My brother’s all fucked up about this, I think we got off on the wrong foot. We’re glad that she’s happy, Isla, we’re grateful to you as her friend for helping out.”

Isla’s anger softened, but in very gradual increments.

Danny went on, “We want to thank you, that’s why we came, and maybe get just a little insight, y’know? I mean, what did you say to her? How did you cheer her up? If you tell us, we can do the same thing at home and things’ll be good all around.”

Isla glared at Danny, then at Jonathan, who only offered an agreeable nod, eyebrows high on his forehead. Her skepticism melted away a little more, enough to thaw her frozen tongue.

“If I told her anything at all, it was that even though she has a right to live her own life, and she does, that basically rebellion was no real reason to do anything.”

Danny and Jonathan shared a glance, but it was Jonathan who repeated, “Rebellion? How was she rebelling?”

“Well, you know, with all the moping around. So now maybe she’s just, y’know, going with the flow.”

“Makes sense to me,” Danny said. “That’s my whole scene right there.”

Jonathan said to Danny, “The only reason you don’t rebel is that you’re too lazy and you don’t give a shit about anything enough to stand up for it.”

“I care about our sister, more than just my own sense of authority.”

“Knock that shit off,” Jonathan barked at him, “I love Amy as much as you do. I love her enough not to have to feel like I have to be her friend. She doesn’t need a friend, she needs guidance, a strong, positive male role model!”

Isla said, “And you think that’s you? When are you gonna get married?”

“When I meet a woman that’s up to my standard.”

Isla shook her head. “You’ve already found her, and married her; your mother.” Jonathan lurched just a bit, but he held himself back, lips tight over his teeth. And Isla realized her own advantage and was happy to exploit it. “You gonna hit me too? Give me a shiner to match your brother’s?”

Danny hadn’t realized, but his throbbing face has swollen beneath his investigating fingertips.

Isla just shook her head. “You two have got a lot of self-examination to do on your own, I’d say. Why not leave Amy alone and get your own heads on straight?” Isla crossed to the front door and opened it, offering them the best smile she could fake. “Thanks for stopping by.”

* * *

Margaret turned from gazing out the window and glared at her sons. “Nothing about finding happiness from within, choosing to be happy, none of that?”

Danny shook his head. “No, but what she did say made some sense, I gotta say.”

“What you gotta say is nothin’,” Jonathan said.

Margaret nodded. “What matters is that their stories don’t match. That means they’re both lying to us.”

“You think they’ve hooked up,” Jonathan asked, “that Amy’s … y’know, one of them?”

“If she is,” Danny had to shrug, “it’s probably our fault. No wonder she turned queer.”

“We don’t know if that’s the case at all,” Margaret said. “I think it’s more likely she and that friend of hers are meeting up with men, men we don’t know.”

“I told you,” Jonathan said to Danny, pointing an accusatory finger, “they’re having orgies in that shit hole, she and that bitch she hangs out with. I never liked her.”

Danny had to smile. “I think the feeling’s mutual.”

“Good.”

Margaret held out her hands. “Stop, you two! I think you’ve done all the good you can, not to mention all the damage I can imagine and all the bickering I can tolerate.” She picked up the phone on her desk, shaking her head as she fiddled through her Rolodex.

Jonathan said, “A Rolodex, Mom?”

“It’s a phone number I almost never use,” Margaret said, finding the card and punching the buttons.

Danny asked, “Who are you calling?”

“Harvey Cox.”

Jonathan glanced at Danny before clarifying with her, “That private investigator?”

Margaret didn’t even bother to answer, raising the phone to her ear and waiting, the phone ringing on the other end of the line.