Chapter 4
“New Year's Day: Now is the accepted time to make your regular annual good resolutions. Next week you can begin paving hell with them as usual.”
Mark Twain
January 2, 2012
Binary Solutions. Work. What a bittersweet feeling the very idea of returning invoked in her. She was glad to be home with her friends and the warm weather, but she missed her brother fiercely. The office was still decorated for Christmas but that was soon to change. Her boss protested every year about the Christmas tree but they appeased his Jewish heritage by having a display for Chanukah as well. But now it was all coming down, much to the glee of the Boss and the sadness of the three lackeys that had been chosen to take it down, who ironically enough were very close friends: Brielle, Grant, and Rachel.
Grant Hiroshi, the tallest Asian Brielle had ever met at 6 foot 2 inches, was a quiet sort of man in his early thirties, though his mischievous side was very apparent when work wasn’t calling every ounce of his attention. Very stylishly dressed every day with a sort of spiky hair do and thick black glasses, he was the oddly perfect combination of Asian, geek, and style. The Lutheran’s composure in dealing with the idiotic phone calls he tended to get as the IT guy never failed. One of the more memorable stories he had was about a lady who was using a power strip to plug her computer and other devices into. Windows was completely frozen, and she was unable to shut down the machine by using the power button. She mentioned the power strip, so Grant had told her to flip it off. She said, "Ok, I gave it the finger. I feel better." He had simply clarified the request and the problem was soon solved. His wife was a take-charge business woman who worked in downtown San Francisco and would drop him off at work every day before she headed to her own job.
Rachel Torrez was the exact opposite of Grant. “Hispanic, loud, and proud” was her motto. As the best graphic designers at the company, she used her loud personality to get The Boss to see her way when it came to designs. A business he could run, creativity he could not grasp. Shorter than Brielle by quite a bit, the 5 foot even Hispanic woman was not quite thirty. The young Catholic’s long black hair was almost always in a braid to keep it out of the way of her work. She had an almost exotic beauty to her person but despite all of this was still single, and proud of it. She actually lived in the same apartment building as Brielle and the pair often found themselves walking to work together.
Brielle’s job was a bit eclectic. As a programmer she assisted in keeping the company’s computers working smoothly and fluidly as well as updating the programs as the technology changed. However, with her creative flair and graphic design background, she was first responsible for the company’s website. If a problem arose, or a caller complained about something on the website, she was the one called to fix the issue.
But at the moment, the trio was carefully wrapping the fragile decorations and placing them in their respective boxes to be placed back in storage. The business itself was rather small with the Boss, the three of them, and two other startups who were interning at Binary Solutions. There was a graphic designer intern working with Rachel and an information systems intern that was working with Grant. Brie was more than thankful that she did not have to be in charge of an intern this school term. Since the interns were a yearlong deal, Rachel and Grant had elected to take the decorations down and to let the interns have a “solo run” as it were. Seeing as they hadn’t burned the place down or sent the world into Armageddon, the trio was taking their time with the decorations.
Roy Hickman, or The Boss, was pretty chill as bosses went. Even though he was Jewish, he respected the Christian holidays celebrated by Rachel and Grant, and Brielle though she celebrated simply because it was an American tradition of sorts. If he asked what religion Brielle followed, she would simply respond “I love people.” His greying hair didn’t hide the fact that he had been a very good looking man in his younger years and age certainly hadn’t ruined them. His wife was a sweet woman who would bring some sort of baked goods in on Casual Dress and Gaming Fridays. Usually The Boss was lurking in his office scrounging up new jobs and more clients but currently he was lounging against the wall watching the trio work.
“You could always help, Mr. Hickman.” Rachel was the only one in the office who would dare talk that boldly to The Boss.
He smirked and gave a small chuckle, motioning to the sealed boxes lining the hallway. “But why would I do that when I have you three to do this for me?”
“Ha.” Rachel stuck her tongue out at her boss and he simply laughed and walked back to his office.
The garland was coiled on top and the last box was taped shut. “Done!” Brielle breathed. “Finally.”
“Awesome.” Grant adjusted his glasses and grinned. “I’m ready for more intern intimidation, are you?”
Rachel nodded excitedly and was bouncing in her excitement. “What should we do to them today?”
Brielle motioned to the boxes, brushing a wayward dred out of her eyes. “Hello? Remember what we’ve been doing for the last hour? I am not hauling all of these up to storage. Boxing the decorations up was one thing. Carrying them is another.”
“Yeah! Make the young college students haul them! Bueno plan, amiga.” Rachel skipped, skipped, back to where the two interns were hard at work. “Yo, small and lowly ones. You have a new assignment.”
They eagerly followed the excitable Hispanic to where the boxes awaited them. With groans, the two young ones looked at the trio with frightened eyes.
“Aww, they look like little lemurs.” Rachel cooed. “The boxes just need to go up into storage. And the elevator doesn’t go up there. You have to walk the last flight of stairs.”
“Move along, Little Interns.” Brielle make shooing motions with her hands. “Those boxes aren’t going to move themselves!”
Grant stood behind the interns and crossed his arms, a stern look on his face. “Now.”
The two interns scurried like little mice to hurry and obey the intrepid trio.
-------------------
Aside from Casual Dress and Gaming Fridays, Tuesdays were her favorite days of the week. Well, and Wednesday nights, which were always raid nights. Tuesday nights were the “bounce from bar to bar” night with Rachel. She rarely drank anything, instead self-appointing herself as the DD for Rachel, even if it simply meant helping Rachel actually walk home and into her apartment. Rachel went to find a worthy man, Brielle went for the amusement. And only one of them ever achieved their goal.
But this week would be different, or so Rachel claimed as she chilled on Brielle’s couch waiting for Brie to finish primping.
“This week, Bell, I will find the man of my dreams. He will be tall and handsome, and have a melt worthy voice like Antonio Banderas.” She let out a happy sigh and flopped against the couch cushions.
“You keep dreaming, Ray.” Brielle stepped out of her room and pulled her jacket off of the couch. She poked the top of her friend’s head and motioned to the door. “I’m eager to see what your pick of the week is this week.”
“And we need to find a man for you this week, Bell!” Rachel was not to be deterred from her goals and pressed the down button on the elevator rapidly.
“I don’t pick up strange men from bars.” Brielle and Rachel said in unison, the former bored and the latter mocking.
“C’mon, Chicka. Live a little!” Rachel urged playfully, bumping the taller girl with her hip.
Brielle hung her arm over the shorter girl’s shoulders and smiled. “I have enough excitement looking after you, hun.”
“That’s how I live!” Ray danced out of the elevator and swung her purse. “I am the full embodiment of fun!”
-------------------
[bar hoping scene]
-------------------
January 5, 2012
6:00 pm
Work had been rather stressful due to a new project, and Brielle was looking forward to enjoying the reheated soup leftovers from the night before and playing some WoW. With her large mug of minestrone and extra-large energy drink, she settled down at her computer and booted it up. She mused over the raid from the night before as she waited for the login screen for World of Warcraft. Logging on to the alt she was leveling, she examined the quest screen and decided to complete some quests instead of running some instances with a random group.
A blissful half-hour went by in peace. Then, the jingle of some eclectic guitar music rang from her cellphone. Pausing her music, and without looking up from computer, she answered the phone.
“Brielle speaking.”
“Where the hell are you going with your life, Brielle?”
An eye roll. When would she learn to look at the caller ID before answering? “Hello, Mother. It’s nice to hear from you.” Brielle said in lue of an answer while completing the small group of quests. “Nate’s doing great, thanks for asking.”
“Don’t avoid the question, young lady! I am your mother and you will respect me as such.” She practically screeched. “And Nathan is dead to me until he chooses a career that will get him somewhere.”
Three new quests, sweet. “Mother, did it ever occur to you that Nate is happy as a mechanic?” Brielle sighed, mouthing along with her mother’s response.
Christine Reynolds was very predictable. “Being a mechanic does not provide him with financial security or a decent place in society. He will always be a loser if he remains in a low class job.”
“If you’re going to manage to convince Nate, you first need a new argument. Then, leave him alone.” Brielle sighed, pushed the speaker button, and set about on the next set of quests. “Nate hates it when you try to run his life. And I hate it when you try to run mine. Yet for some reason I still tolerate you. And, you don’t hate me. Why’s that, Mother?”
There was silence from the other end of the line. If Brielle hadn’t glanced at the time ticking away on the call time, she would have sworn that her mother had hung up on her. “You are very successful, Brielle.” She finally said.
“Mother, I work as a web designer for Binary Solutions. I am an avid gamer. I have dreadlocks. I am for all intents and purposes a geeky hippy.” Brielle felt like a broken record, having said this almost every time the conversation came up.
“You went to a prestigious school, Brielle.”
The 27 year old quickly afk’d and picked the phone back up. “Are you fucking kidding me? You’re basing your entire argument on the fact that I didn’t go to a community college? YOU encouraged him to go to Westminster Community. YOU are the one who has told him all his life that he will never make anything of himself. And then, when he decides he wants to be a mechanic and succeeds at it, you get all pissy and tell him he’s a loser for choosing that. That he needed to be a doctor. What the hell was he supposed to think, Mother? Are you pissed that he became a mechanic or are you pissed that he’s proved you wrong and actually succeeded at something?”
“Don’t you dare take that tone with me, Brielle Kale Reynolds.” Her mother’s tone turned dangerously quiet but Brielle was past caring.
“Or you’ll what, Mother. Disown me too? Please do. I beg of you.” Brielle was tired of the argument. “I relish the day we never speak again.”
“I will not give you that satisfaction!” Christine shrieked angrily.
Brielle finally snapped. “Mother, I know you feel powerless because your two grown children have their own lives that they wish not to share with you. And I pity you. Stop calling me to argue, okay?”
“Brielle, don’t you dare…”
The end button provided a wonderful cease to the tirade.
And the call button provided a wonderful retreat to happiness.
“Hey Brie!”
Her brother’s cheerful greeting made the stress of her mother melt slightly. “Hey Baby Bro.”
“What’s wrong?” Somehow Nate always knew when something was going on.
“I’ll give you three guesses, and the first two don’t count.”
A loud groan. “Mom again?”
“Mm-hmm.”
There was the dull thud of a head hitting a desk.
“Did you seriously just face desk?” Brielle gave a little chuckle.
“Yes.” Came the muffled voice. “And now I need some Advil. And quite possibly some tissues.”
Brielle fell back against the back of the chair, laughing hysterically. She could hear Destiny on the other side laughing in the background.
“Shut up, both of you.” He grumbled, and she could hear him rummaging around for the Advil. “I’m in pain here.”
“And, amazingly enough, it’s your fault.” She laughed unsympathetically, focusing her attention again on the game.
He grunted in annoyance and she could hear the clatter of the pill bottle and then the distinct sound of drinking. “I’ll have you know that my nose is bleeding. If I bleed out and die, you’ll feel sorry then.”
“I’ll bust a seam laughing at the funeral is what I’ll do.” Brielle snickered. “I can just see it now. The pastor stands up in front of the church and begins the eulogy. ‘Nate was a bright young man with his whole future ahead of him. However, in a moment of stupidity, he brought the phrase “face desk” to life, causing his nose to fountain its life giving blood. Weak from the head injury, he was unable to crawl to the tissue box to stem the flow.’”
“You should quit your day job and become a comedian.” He said, his voice muffled due to the tissues. “It’s not that bad.”
“Hey, you’re the one who said “If I bleed out and die, you’ll feel sorry then.” Geez, old age is affecting you already?” Brielle loved prolonging the teasing.
“I could just hang up on you, you know.” Nate shot back.
She snorted. “But you won’t, because you love me too much.”
“Oh there’s too much of something in this conversation.” He muttered.
“Yeah, too much awesome me.” She gloated. “I am so close to 60 with the alt.”
A pause. Then a bit aggravated. “Are you playing World of Warcraft again?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Good fucking god, Brielle.” He complained. “How much do you play that game?”
“Too much.” She admitted. “But I have a social life, so I’m fine.”
“Do you sleep ever?”
She muttered something unintelligible.
“What was that? Was that an “I sleep enough” which of course translates to “I sleep three hours a night”?”
“Oh no, I need to go!” Brielle deadpanned. “Tell Destiny I say hi!”
“Psh, you just can’t face the sad reality of your life. Go, enjoy your raid.” Nate snorted.
“I’m questing, not raiding. That was yesterday. Remember? Raid nights are Wednesday.”
This time he laughed out loud. “Oh, Brielle.” There was some chattering in the background. “Hey, I got to run, sis. Destiny want’s a ride in the Mazda.”
“Nate…” Brielle sighed. “Just. Just be careful, okay?”
“I’m always careful, Brie. I don’t want to be in an accident either. I’ll be extra careful.” He promised.
“Okay, give Destiny a hug for me, okay?”
“I can do that. Good bye, Sister-mine.”
“I love you, Nate.”
“Love you, too, Brie.”
The sound of Josh Groban came back through the speakers as she continued her questing. She squelched the uncomfortable feeling that settled in her stomach and chalked it up to the idea of her baby brother driving a car not suited for icy roads. But then again, she was always worrying about him. The feeling soon dissipated as she continued playing. She wasn’t sure how much time passed; she tended to lose track of time while gaming.
She jumped at the unexpected sound of her phone ringing. Sighing in aggravation at another interruption, she frowned at the unknown number. Debating whether or not to answer, she sighed and pushed the answer button.
“Brielle speaking.”
“Hello, is this Brielle Reynolds?” A middle aged woman was on the other side of the line.
Brielle rolled her eyes and afk’d. “Yes, you’re speaking to her.”
“Hi, I’m Lacy Peters from the Brattleboro General Hospital. I understand you are related to a Nathan Reynolds?”
“Yes, he’s my brother.” The unsettled feeling suddenly reared up again, only this time it set as full on anxiety. “Is he okay?” Josh Groban’s sultry voice faded to a dull buzz as she sat motionless, staring at the wall in disbelief as the nurse on the phone delivered her somber message.
No comments:
Post a Comment