Fingers crossed this works. I had some issues last night trying to update my original story over on fictionpress and they were only resolved a few hours ago. Annnnyway. I haven't forgotten about all the other stories I have going on at the moment. And this is proof.

Chapter 21

By the time Brodie had been released from the hospital with his shoulder returned to it's rightful socket, he was feeling a lot more sober than when we'd first arrived at that scene of the car explosion. Lester had left, replaced by Carlos to keep an eye on both myself and Grandma Mazur as we waited, coming down from our own proximity highs – apparently the drugs in the green whistle were potent enough to affect those nearby if they inhaled deeply and often enough. When Brodie emerged, announcing he was free to leave the – god forsaken – hospital, Carlos ushered us all out to the Porsche where he opened all the doors and ensured we were all safely inside and my chair stowed away before sliding behind the wheel. It was kind of like watching Superman zoom around the car a few times ensuring everyone was strapped in securely before whisking us off.

"Where to now, oh fearless leader?" I asked, grinning.

"Babe," Carlos replied, casting me a quick glance as he pulled out into traffic. I took that to mean 'The drugs are still affecting you?' and decided not to dignify it with a response.

After a few moments Grandma spoke up from behind me. "Boy, it must be lunch time," she said. "I'm so hungry I could eat a horse and chase the rider. But only if it was a good looking rider."

As if on cue, my stomach rumbled, and at the same time Brodie made a sound of agreement. Clearly decision had been made. Where we were going now, had to involve lunch.

"We'll head back to Haywood for lunch," Carlos assured me, making me wonder if I'd spoken my thoughts aloud. "That way I can ensure your grandmother is completely sober before we send her back to your parents. And it will also give us all a chance to talk."

Talk? I thought, confused for just a moment, but then I remembered Grandma's earlier revelation about Brodie. My half-brother. "Good idea," I agreed.

Food proved to be the best idea in the world, because by the time we'd made our way through the club sandwiches Ella had sent up to the seventh floor for us, everyone was back to their proper cognitive states, the last residues of the painkillers having been absorbed by the meal. That's when Carlos changed the subject from the carefree banter to suggest we all move to the living area.

I glanced at the clock on the wall as I past, noting that it was already two in the afternoon. Chancer were the conversation we were about to have was going to take more than an hour.

"I texted Tank," Carlos let me know as I transferred myself into the comfy arm chair and he perched on the arm beside me. "He'll pick up the boys from school and take them to the park for a while. He's also going to pick up the glasses from the optometrist before they come back here. Everything's covered until dinner time if we need that long."

I nodded my understanding, thankful that he'd taken to giving me more information than he would have before we'd gotten together. Before, he would have just said something like, "Got it covered, Babe," and left me to wonder if what he had covered was in fact what I was worried about.

When Grandma Mazur took the other arm chair, leaving Brodie all alone in the middle of the gigantic sofa, I felt the need to close the distance. He was my brother, after all, and seeing him lonely tugged at my heartstrings. I easily pushed myself into a standing position – I'd had enough practice at it now that I barely had to think about the action – and began shuffling to the empty cushion beside Brodie, using Carlos's leg as a stabiliser for the short distance.

"Babe?" he questioned, a hand on my elbow to offer extra support, but not stopping me from doing what I was determined to do.

"Is everything all right?" Brodie asked, sitting forward and extending his hand in case I needed it as I moved further away from my husband.

"I'm fine," I assured the men as I plopped down next to Brodie. "I just thought it would be better if I sat next to Brodie for this."

"It's tha' kinda talk now then?" he asked, almost nervously, and then in an obvious attempt to make himself relax he added, "For the record I already ken of the birds and bees."

I allowed a small chuckle to escape my lips. "Oh good," I commented. "You'll be able to follow the logistics fairly easily."

Brodie's eyes narrowed. "Is this about me mother?" he asked, our joking proving useless in calming him as he visible tensed. "I'm no' so sure I want to know anymore. It was me Da's idea for me to come here. I never wanted to know."

"Well that kinda sucks, doesn't it?"Grandma put in, sucking at her dentures.

"Grandma, please," I pleaded, aware that she was probably growing impatient. "We'll get there."

As if he just now recalled the old woman's presence, Brodie cut his eyes to her. Suspiciously, I thought. His gaze lingered there for a long moment before slowly returning to me. "Why is yer grandmother here fer this?" he questioned tersely.

I took a moment to look around the room, locking eyes with first Carlos then Grandma. I hadn't intended on leading with this tidbit of information, but it appeared that I now had no choice. A sigh left my lips as I returned my gaze to Brodie who was now glaring at me accusingly.

"Grandma is here for this because she's your grandma too," I said. I sounded resigned even to my own ears, but before he could get up a full head of steam, I continued with the rest of the information that he needed to hear before he had a chance to pass judgement on my grandmother. "You need to hear me out before you say anything you might regret."

"I won't regret it," he assured me. "I've had my entire life to work out what I wanted to say to my grandparents when I finally met them."

Carlos settled on the edge of the armchair I'd vacated and speared my half brother with one of his withering stares. "I suggest you hold your tongue until Stephanie is finished," he warned, his elbows braced on his knees in a seemingly easy-going stance, but the way his fists clenched told me he was serious. The underlying tone of his entire being right now was my team of men is just a phone call away to cart you out of the building and out of our lives. So I thought I should probably get on with this pretty quickly before he lost patience with the seething lump of male I was sharing the couch with.

"The first thing you need to understand is that your mom is still alive," I began, not really thinking about being gentle or breaking things slowly. I had a list of information that needed to be said and I was going to get it out. "She's the one that sent you away with your dad. Grandma and Grandpa wanted to keep you close but Mom didn't want anything to do with you or your dad."

I paused, letting that bombshell sink in.

"You say mum as if the woman is that to you," Brodie said slowly, his eyes cutting to Grandma once more. I could see the wheels turning in his head and knew I had to connect the dots for him.

"She is," I admitted. "My mom is your mom. You're my half brother."

"Yer my sister?" he asked, sounding in part amazed, but also aghast. Clearly the possibility of siblings had never occurred to him, what with both his parents supposedly being dead. I wasn't sure if he was pleased with the news or not, so I got Grandma to recount the tale surrounding his birth once more.

When she was through we all sat there in silence for a beat. For me it was the second time I'd heard the story, and my mind managed to catch on one detail. Grandma had mentioned that Mom had been a wild child, out partying, not caring about consequences. I held up that vision of my mother with the mother I'd known my whole life; the woman who had scolded me for acting out and being my own person. And then there was the fact that she'd professed to never wanting to see the child or the man she'd apparently been smitten with ever again. Mom could be strong willed, but she was a family woman at heart and the puzzle pieces, the small snippets of her life I was considering now, just did not fit together.

I could tell Carlos's thoughts were along the same lines as mine. The signs were miniscule on his face, but I'd learned to read them over the years. He was trying to fit ill shaped puzzle pieces together just the same as me.

"So Helen went from fun loving and out there, to serious and scathing and the only thing that could have set it off was the knowledge that she was pregnant?" Carlos questioned. Grandma nodded agreement with his summary. He sat thoughtfully for another few moments and we all waited patiently for his insight. Well, we waited. I can't say any of us were patient, but I was definitely waiting for his view.

I took the time to examine my brother while I waited, finding it easier to pass the time if I had something to do. He looked to still be processing the information he'd received while staring at my – our – grandma with new eyes. After a few moments he glanced down and touched his pocket where I could see the bulge of his phone. Was it ringing? I couldn't tell, but either way, he didn't answer it.

"Perhaps," Carlos began, drawing all our attention back to him. "The realisation that she had made a –," he glanced at Brodie, as if recalling his presence, and decided to rephrase what he'd been about to say. "Perhaps when she discovered she was with child, she realised that it was because of her wild ways and somehow thought that denying the entire circumstance would erase the situation from her record and allow her to turn a new leaf."

I nodded my understanding.

"We know Helen is an upright citizen. Almost obsessive in her views of the dos and don'ts of life," Carlos went on explaining. "We also know that denial is not a foreign concept for her, may even be as common for her as it is for you, Babe. After all, you had to pick it up from somewhere. My theory is she found out she was pregnant and suddenly decided she wasn't ready for that kind of development. And like a switch being flipped in her brain she changed gears taking on all the ideals she had been
exposed to over the years and making them her goals, leaving behind her former wild self and everything that went with it. Including Brodie and Kendrick."

It made sense. I was about to agree with him when Brodie suddenly stood with a muttered, "Fer God's sake." He was digging in his pocket agitatedly. After a moment he pulled the phone out and pressed it to his ear. "Aye?" he said by way of greeting, though his tone was just as agitated as his movements had been. He listened for a beat and his entire being seemed to relax. "Lesley," he breathed, sounding relieved and reverted to a guttural language that was probably Gaelic. After a moment more his relief disappeared and his anger rose once more.

I looked to Carlos, confused, but he seemed almost as lost as I was.

"Lesley is the name of his teenage daughter," Carlos whispered to me, just as Brodie dropped his hand to his side, frustration clear on his face.

"Could you call me a cab? I need to go to the airport."

Ohhhhhh... what's happened now?