It's past seven the next morning when Andrea came jogging across the sand and up the stairs of the beach apartment. Her hair pulled back in high ponytail, she collapsed on the porch into a pile of exhaustion. Dylan watched her from the living room window, sipping a cup of coffee while she contorted herself into a difficult yoga position. Stretching her toned body, he could see the stress of yesterday was completely gone – at least for now.
"Good morning," he called as he stepped onto the porch. Sitting in Kelly's favorite wooden chair, Andrea was fairly certain that she had never seen him looking sexier. Dressed in faded jeans and a white button-up shirt, he has bare feet and bed head.
"Hey," she huffed as she bent backward. He looked on as she grabbed her heal and brought it up for a deep stretch. Between her inexplicable flexibility and the way her skin was glowing, she looked absolutely radiantly.
"We have to be over at Steve's for breakfast in an hour. I just talked to Donna, she wanted me to stop by the Pit to pick up the turnovers and scones."
"Let me just go take a shower," she replied. She pulled the rubberband from her hair, allowing her hair to cascade over her bare shoulder. Shaking her head, she enjoyed the silky tickle against her skin. With a small wave, she disappeared into the house.
Dylan paced the porch for a few minutes once he heard the water start. He felt confused, like he should be having any feelings but the ones that had consumed him last night. Eventually, he had backtracked to his bedroom and tried to fall asleep. Somewhere between two and three in the morning, he had convinced himself that he didn't really feel that way about Andrea. By four, he knew that he was just lying to himself.
The water stopped, and Dylan figured he should probably head in so that she wouldn't know something was going on. He could hear her soft voice, seemingly talking to herself, coming from the other room. Quietly, he made his way down the hall to see if he could catch what she was saying. Through the crack of the guest bedroom door, he could see her cradling her cell phone.
"I am so proud of you, Hannah. You are such a brilliant girl," she said cheerfully. "I am sorry I couldn't be there, but I'm glad that your dad was. Did he take pictures?" It was quiet for a minute while she listened to her daughter's response. "I can't wait to see the video. I miss you so much, my darling girl." She laughed. "I know you're not a baby, but give your mother a break. This is the longest I've ever been apart from you." Silence is followed by a serious sigh. "It was very sad. It's been kind of crazy to see everyone again. I know you don't remember these people, but they were my family when I didn't really have one." Another quiet pause indicated that her daughter was responding. "Alright, I will call you tomorrow, and then I will be home the day after. Your dad is going to bring you to the airport to meet me. I will see you then." Her voice dropped with their goodbye, bringing on the kind of affection only mothers have. "I love you, too, Han, bye."
"Was that Hannah?" Dylan asked, pushing the door open. Leaning against the doorframe, a part of Andrea wanted to jet across the room and jump him. The logical part of her was in control, however, and she simply nodded.
"Are you ready? We should probably get to the Pit."
"Are you okay?" he asked, his eyes meeting hers automatically. This time, she couldn't nod. She just looked down at her feet and prayed that he would let it drop. When he didn't say anything else, she knew he was waiting for an answer. Finally, she shook her head.
"This is too much. Everything about coming home has not been what I expected."
"And that's a bad thing?"
"Just the opposite," she admitted. "Next to Hannah, I can't remember a time when I have been so happy to see a group of people."
"What's crawling around in that brain of yours, Zuckerman? I can see you thinking about something."
"I was just thinking that a relocation to the west coast might be in order."
"Are you serious? Are you really thinking about coming back to the city?"
"If I can convince Jesse, I'm going to look for a job here and come home. My family is here, my friends are here, you're here."
"You have no idea how happy I am to hear that."
Kelly woke up in Brandon's arms, a wide grin spread across her beautiful face. His face was buried in her hair, his legs entangled in hers. She couldn't remember a time when she had been happier to wake up because she knew that she would get to see him once her eyes were open again.
They had talked well into the night, covering everything from the old days to their careers to Brandon's relationships in D.C. to what they wanted for the future. Though he didn't know it yet, Kelly was already considering a move to the nation's capital. She couldn't bare the thought of having to spend any more of her life without him, and if she had to, she would give up everything to be with him. When he had posed the question of marriage last night in a hypothetical way, it had made her realize that she wanted to be with him significantly more than she wanted to keep her job.
Brandon's eyes were still closed, but he was wide awake when she started to stir next to him. He was mentally composing his resignation letter to the Post. Though the money wasn't great, he knew that he could come back to the Beat. Steve would probably need someone to help run the paper while he got back on his feet, anyhow. The situation would work for everyone, and best of all, he would be able to have Kelly in his life again.
"Wake up, handsome," she cooed, showering him with kisses. Gentle caresses were placed on his forehead and his eyelids, his cheeks and his lips, his neck and his shoulders, his chest and his stomach. Working her way back up, she rolled on top of him and held his face in her hands.
"You are so beautiful," he mused airily. "I was just thinking."
"Yeah?"
"I want to come back to Los Angeles. I've already decided that I can resign and come back to help Steve with the paper. We've spent too much time apart, and I'm not willing to do that anymore. I'll do whatever I have to do to make sure that we are together,"
"I was going to say the same thing. I'll come to D.C. if you want to me to. I don't want you to have to make all the sacrifices."
"I think it's about time that I come home. Not just to L.A., but to you," he whispered, leaning in to capture her in a kiss. He fell back against the bed and looked up at the ceiling of the guestroom in his old house. A guestroom that used to be his bedroom. "I can't believe I'm sleeping in the same bedroom I had in high school."
"There is a kind of sweet finality to this, isn't there?" she posed a question. "I mean, after everything, you're in bed with the Spring Princess."
He laughed before he fell silent again. "Kel, we do need to talk about the living situation. I know this is all new, but I feel like I've known you long enough and well enough to be able to live with you again. If you're not ready for it, let me know."
"I want to live with you, Brandon. Dylan and I are still technically living together, so one of us is going to have to move out."
"I'm going to talk to Steve. This is still my house, and I would like to come home to it. How would you feel about giving him the beach apartment?"
Kelly smiled. "It's been in the family so long that it feels right that one of us have it. I'm sure that Steve and Maddy would be happy at the beach. This house is full of his memories with Janet, there he could enjoy the sand and the water. Beside, I have a feeling that Donna is going to need somewhere to stay, and she could just move back there and help him with Madeline until he gets settled again."
"What about Dylan?"
"What about Dylan? For the first time in a long time, he's not my problem. Let him figure that out."
Donna came padding into the bedroom where she had slept next to Steve the entire night. He had slept through most of it, waking only briefly to retrieve Madeline when she had had a bad dream. She had fallen asleep between them, the place where both Sanders were still in a deep slumber. Standing in the doorway, she watched over them with warm adoration until Steve's bright blue eyes popped open.
"Quit staring, Don," he whispered, carefully pulling his arm out from beneath his daughter. He laid a soft kiss on her forehead and crawled off the bed to retrieve the mug in her hand. "Give me."
She handed him the red cup and watched as he downed the rest of the dark brew. "Good?"
He nodded. "Thank you. I feel like I have been saying that a lot lately, but I really do appreciate everything that you have done for my daughter and me. And not just today, but since Janet got sick, you have been the one person that has been there for me. I needed someone that wouldn't focus just on the cancer or Janet, as selfish as that sounds. You were that person that saw when I was drowning or when Maddy was really sad. Thank you."
"You would have done it for me," she said with a warm smile.
"I would have?"
"I know that if it was David that got sick, you would be there to support me, Steve," she said. "I remember that night, freshman year of college, when David was doing drugs. He had been horrible to me, and I hadn't heard from him. I kept telling Kelly to lie if he called, to say that I wasn't home, but he never called. Finally, after Dylan called, I just went over the edge. It was you that told me that he wasn't worth it, and it was you that held me on the deck when I fell apart. It's not the only time you were there for me, but it's probably one of the times when I needed someone most."
"I did that?" he asked, puffing out his chest. Donna had to laugh because it was the first time she'd seen him truly act like himself in more than a week.
"Yes, you were my hero," she said.
"Daddy? Donna?" Madeline called from inside the room.
"What's shaking, Princess?" Steve asked, pushing the door open with his hip and handing the mug back to his blonde companion.
"It's almost time for Uncle Brandon and everyone to come from breakfast. See, the rose is on the five and the daisy is on the eight," she replied, pointing to the new watch Donna had brought her the first day.
"Well, then you better go take a bath," her father told her.
"If you pick out what you want to wear, I will make you a bubble bath," Donna promised. The little girl beamed up at her before running down the hallway to her bedroom. "That seemed to do the trick."
"You're great with her, Donna."
"I love Madeline, she reminds me that there is hope in this world."
"That she does," he agreed. "Let me take that cup, I'll go down and make some more while you get her in the bath. Thanks again."
Donna watched his back as he retreated down the stairs before heading into the bathroom adjoined to Madeline's room. Pulling out the girl's favorite lavender-scented bubbles, she quickly filled the tub full of flowery suds. Madeline returned with her favorite red dress and black patent-leather Mary Janes. "I used to have shoes just like those when I was your age," she told the young girl.
Maddy grinned. "Just like 'em?"
Donna nodded. "Just like them. Now, you take a bath, and your daddy and I will be downstairs getting the kitchen ready for everyone. If you need anything, just call."
"Okay. Hey, Donna?"
"Yes?"
"Will you be my new mommy?"
Brenda groaned, her head pounding as she struggled to open her eyes. A trash truck outside drummed a constant beat against her brain, only adding to her agony. Stretching her legs, she was surprised to find her feet rubbing against the hairy skin of someone else in bed with her. Yanking back the comforter, she shot up in bed and gaped at the man next to her. "David!"
"What?" he mumbled before turning over. Then, the sound of her voice sinking into her brain, he shot up next to her. "Brenda, what the hell are you doing here?"
"I don't know, I don't remember much," she confessed. "Stop yelling."
"You stop yelling," he replied, rubbing his temples. "My head is pounding. How much did we have to drink exactly?"
"I'm gonna go with too much," she answered, clutching her head in her hands. Her cell phone chirped happily from somewhere. "Where is my phone?"
"It's here, under the bed on my side," David answered, leaning down to retrieve it.
He held it up but she shook her head. "You answer it."
"Brenda's phone," he grumbled. "Oh, yeah, man, hold on." He covered the mouthpiece before handing it to her. "It's Dylan."
"Hey, what's up?" she managed to say into the phone. David watched as she idly listened, rolling her eyes and sighing before speaking again. "Okay, we'll be there."
"Did you spend the night with David?" Dylan asked on the other line.
Brenda could feel the scarlet creeping up her neck. She wouldn't tell him the truth, even if she knew what the truth was. "Yes, but not in that way, Dylan. Steve's house was full with Brandon and Donna staying there, so I came back here and slept in the spare room," she lied.
"I know you, Bren," he warned before ending the call. Defeated, Brenda threw the phone on a pile of discarded clothes on the floor. She reached down to see if she was dressed, realizing for the first time that they were naked in bed together. Thankfully, she had on a pair of boxer shorts and a bra. Though the boxers weren't hers, the bra was, and something was covering her to maintain her modesty.
"Are these yours?" she asked, hoisting her hips and pointing to the plaid material. David nodded. "Are you wearing yours?"
He laughed and nodded. "Yes, Ms. Walsh, I'm dressed. So, what happened last night?"
"I don't know, but if something did happen, I hope we were careful."
"We probably didn't sleep together," she said.
"Too bad, I'm sure it would have been something. This way, we could have had our fun and blamed it on the alcohol."
"What fun is sinning if you can't remember it afterward?"
David laughed. "Touché."
"We're supposed to head over to Steve's. The gang is getting together for breakfast, even Nat is going to be there," she explained. She started to roll off the bed, but David hooked his arm around her waist and pulled her back against him. Caught up in the proximity of the moment, she allowed him to pin her under his strong body.
David leaned down and placed a feather kiss on her forehead. "Do we have to, Bren?"
"David," she warned halfheartedly.
"Come on, we both want it."
"Donna was my best friend."
"Donna was my wife. If she doesn't care, then why should we?"
"I have to talk to her first, David," she pleaded. "Don't make this harder than it has to be."
"Just one kiss, Bren," he begged softly, leaning down again.
Brenda lifted her head to meet his, falling into passionate caress of the sensual kiss. Things quickly escalated as her instincts took over, but eventually, she pushed him away. "We have to stop."
"If there was no Donna, would you let yourself fall in love with me?"
Brenda looked away and mumbled her reply. "In a heartbeat, David, in a heartbeat."