The thumb drive burned a hole in Brie's pocket in the press pool, all during the day.
Even further souring her mood was that the press secretary didn't call on her to ask a question during the presidential briefing at the White House.
"What is with your mood, girlfriend?" Brent asked, as he, she and a couple of reporters from the pool – Dianna and Marcia - gathered together for lunch and a couple of drinks.
"There's nothing wrong with me," Brie said, flipping through the pages of the lunch menu.
Brent lowered his chin, his eyes locked squarely on her. "We have been friends for a long time."
"With a couple of years of friends with benefits," another muttered. "Thank the goddess you found your husband, Brent. We all know you batted for the other side."
Brent gave a mocking sort of grin to the one who spoke.
"Something is bothering you ,and if you won't come clean with me, I will have to ask Dylan," he said. "Are you two talking kids?"
"Not recently," Brie said. When the waiter returned, she ordered the cashew chicken. "Okay. Scenario."
"I will play. Deets." Brent leaned on his elbow, eyes focused solely on Brie."
She struggled to choose her words carefully.
"What if... you were me, and suddenly out of nowhere you met your much younger half-brother? What if, further, he gave you a thumb drive containing information about your mutual father that has the potential to change the history of your life as you know it?"
"You have a brother?" Brent asked.
Brie rocked, unsure of how, exactly, to respond.
"My biological father is Stephan Hodges, one of the first colonists on Mars," Brie said.
"That Stephan Hodges," Brent said. "What about him has changed? He's no different than any other deadbeat father who walked out on his kid. So what he's several million miles away."
"I claim to be a journalist," Brie said. "What if there is more to the story?"
"Its human nature to want to know our whole story," Marcia said, shifting her drink on the table. "Likely no different than the kid that approached you." She shrugged. "If I have learned anything after working in the presidential press pool for as long as I have, there is the STORY, then there are the other variations of the story. All valid. All true."
"Do you want to know the truth?" Dianna asked, chewing on the olive from her martini.
"I thought I knew the truth," Brie said. She shrugged.
"There is an old proverb that my mother quoted me growing up, when I got into fights with my sister. I am pretty sure I know where she got it from, but since its an old, dead book, I never really give it a read," Dianna said. She threw the toothpick down. "But, the advice has driven my career very well."
"Well, don't leave us in suspense, darling," Brent said.
"The first to speak always seems right. Until they are cross examined," Dianna said. She shrugged, gripping the arms of her chair. "Asking questions is always the right thing to do, in my opinion. But to be fair, don't be so beholden to one answer. If you cling too tightly, the answers that come, whether truth or not, will break you."
Night fell, and Brie felt herself drawn to the rooftop gathering area the landlord allowed on the roof. The night was warm, and the sky as clear as it could get with the light pollution of the city obscuring most of the stars.
She had her journal and list of shadow work questions that she'd been going over for the last hour, trying to work her way through the mental block. Nothing that she had used before to break through the mental confusion seemed to help now.
Brie wanted to blame the wine, but knew that wasn't completely the story.
Even though she left the thumb drive in her coat pocket downstairs, it still seared itself into her psyche.
"Please, Clarissa, please – let me see her."
Brie took a breath, realizing that was a memory.
The voice flowed over her with the awareness that came from knowing one's father.
"I don't have to let you see her; that's the court's order."
Brie slowly, carefully cracked the door, peering out to watch her mother pace the floor of the apartment, cigarette in hand and bong on the table.
"I have given you everything you wanted. I have given you the money you wanted. I have seen to it that my daughter will be taken care of."
"Keep your voice down, you ass," Clarissa said. "Brie's asleep. She's got school in the morning."
"I could have come over this afternoon and sat with her and help her do her school work –something -."
"Why?" Clarissa asked, stopping her pacing. "Just get out of here, you mo-fo. Leave. Like you always have."
"You stole from me, Clarissa. I was the only one working, the only one taking care of our daughter – I was coming home to a child still in her diaper, not changed from the time I changed it before I left for work, and she'd be filthy. I did the potty training -."
"You walked out," Clarissa said. "You are not seeing her."
Brie slid from where she sat, clutching her knees at the memory. She didn't remember exactly how old she'd been at the time, but she remembered that.
She didn't want to remember it. She didn't want it to be true.
"Brie?" Dylan asked. "Are you okay."
"No," she said, sobbing, burying her face.
"Will you please stop crying. I can't handle it when you cry and I can't handle the problem if I don't know what it is."
Dylan pulled a tissue package from their pocket and offered it to Brie.
Brie opening herself up, blowing her nose, knowing that Dylan was right. She couldn't work through this if all she did was just cry about.
"Did you enjoy your run?" Brie asked her partner.
Dylan looked to the side. "It was... invigorating," they said. They sat on the bench. "Now, what is the problem?"
"I talked to him. The man that was outside our building."
"I told you he wasn't someone we could trust."
"Will you listen, Dylan?" Brie asked. "Will you listen to what I have to say, or will you let your own thoughts about this become a wall in between us?"
Dylan shoved their hands in their pockets. "Continue."
"He's claiming to be my brother. Trey Hodges of Mars is claiming to be my half-brother, and I am left with dozens more questions than I have answers," she said.
"You wouldn't be in this mess if you ignored him like I told you."
"And I told you that ignoring him would be a mistake. Look him in the eye, slow down, ask questions."
"That's how people get killed."
"And that is how people live," Brie said.
"And you are crying, blubbering about something I told you would hurt you," Dylan said. "What are you planning on doing about it now?"
Brie sighed. She pulled herself up on the bench beside Dylan. She still needed a good cry about it, but it wouldn't happen now.
"I am going to investigate it," Brie said. "No matter where it takes me, I am going to follow my natural curiosity about the matter."
"Instead of just dropping it-."
"I don't think 'just dropping it' is going to solve anything," Brie said.
Dylan threw their hands up, getting up from the bench.
"I know you don't like my answer, but I have a feeling that I am not going to feel whole or know peace until I know the truth," Brie said.
"Its your choice," Dylan said. They paused. "I will support it for as long as I can."
Brie wondered how long that would really be.
(1321)