The clearer the differences became between a delivery in France and a delivery in the US, the more gratitude she felt that her husband had agreed to relocate to France.
One thousand euro was received from the government simply for having the babies, something that boggled the minds of their friends.
The McKays required little discussion before they agreed that the money be put into Hannah's budding college fund.
They did not accept Andrea's protests that it was far too much money she could not possibly allow them to give, and both stayed firm on their decision until Andrea reluctantly gave in.
Mr. McKay stared in awe the first time Lyra's lips latched onto his wife's nipple. Though Mrs. McKay had a clear memory of her leaky breasts that she had concluded would haunt her for the rest of her days, she was still amazed that her body could produce enough milk for both of her children.
"I've loved your breasts since I saw them bounce around in your tank top when I revved up the engine to try to catch you, Bren, but I don't think I've ever loved them as much as I do now," Dylan whispered so as to not awaken the sleeping Lachlan in his arms.
Looking at father with son, she smiled and said, "And I've loved your arms since they reached up to take off your helmet so your perfect lips could ask about my disastrous hair, but I don't think I've ever loved them as much as I do now."
"Not even when they hold you?" he asked, walking forward to grasp his family.
"Can we stay like this always?" she asked.
"I wish," said Dylan, as Lachlan began to cry. "But the little guy's cutting into our solitude time already. I'll change him and then we'll switch off."
"Have you ever changed a boy before?"
"No, but I changed Breelyn a couple times. Have you?"
"I have a billion cousins, remember?" Brenda joked.
"Well, I'm gonna do diaper duty, so I gotta learn sometime. Might as well be now."
"I thought we were going to share diaper duty."
"Bren, you'll be doing all of the feeding until we can get them on the bottle. I'm doing diaper duty. If it makes you feel any better, when they switch to solids, I'll do the feeding and you can clean up their crap."
"Oh no," said Brenda, "we'll definitely take turns on that one."
"What Mummy says goes, kids," said Dylan. "Best for you to learn that now."
"Mummy?" she asked.
"Mom, Mommy, Mummy, Maman. I'm giving them options, Bren. Either way, you're their mother. They're yours."
"I am, aren't I?" She beamed, looking at their healthy twins. "And you're their father. They're yours, too."
"Damn straight," said Dylan. "They're ours, and no one can take that from us." He laid Lachlan on a clean, soft surface and began to remove the baby's soiled diaper.
"Wait, Dyl! Grab a new diaper fir -"
Brenda cut herself off in her giggling that came from Dylan receiving a faceful of pee.
"Bren, help," he begged.
"Okay, get cleaned up while I change Lachlan and next time, I'll show you how to change a boy."
"Deal, and then I'm doing all the changing."
She moved to place Lyra in the bassinet.
"No," Dylan held out his hands, "give Lyra to me."
"How are you gonna get cleaned up if I give her to you?"
"I'll figure it out."
Body still sore from labor, Brenda slowly handed over their daughter.
"C'mon, sweet girl," Dylan said, cradling Lyra, "let's get Daddy cleaned up so your mean Mommy can stop laughing at him. I'll tell you all about when Daddy met Mommy, and then about how Daddy got Mommy back from uncle Finn, who, by the way, is scared of the sea." Lyra began playing with her father's hand. "You're gonna love the sea, aren't you, little lady? But we'll get to that in a second. Listen closely and ye shall hear / A tale of two people with a love so dear. / Long before your entrance, in a land afar / A brunette dreamer blew in sans a license or a car."
"Hey!" said Brenda.
"From Minnahsohta she came," he continued, "and without saying her name, she captured West Bev's most coveted possession: the Surf King's heart." His voice faded behind the closing bathroom door.
"Be good in there! She's too young for details!" Brenda called out. "Go easy on your dad, sweetheart," she told her son as she wiped off his tiny bottom. "He's learning." Leaning in to whisper, she added, "But if you want to pee on uncle Brandon or any of your other uncles, then you have my full permission. Oh, and Val. Please pee on your aunt Val. Preferably when she's wearing something expensive."
Lachlan gurgled in response.
"Also, between you and me, peeing on your aunt Kelly is legendary material. Just don't tell your uncle I told you that."
Lachlan's rapt attention switched from reading Brenda's lips to staring at the necklace that she wore beneath her new locket.
She expected she would need to remove both at some point given her experience with babies snatching at jewellry, but until then, she would continue to wear the necklaces as a pair.
"Oh, you like this, baby?" Brenda finished diapering Lachlan and raised him up to her chest. "Daddy gave it to Mommy when we were seventeen. One day, I might give it to you or to your sister."
The necklace acted as a pendulum, lulling her child to sleep.
Brenda remained at the hospital until the midwives were satisfied that she and Dylan knew precisely how to care for their children. Unwilling to place her children into their top-of-the-line stroller just yet, Brenda held both twins as Dylan struggled to fit the second car seat into Chloé's car.
It took him about five tries before he agreed to allow Chloé to help.
The family of four returned home to the awaiting press spread out across their street, who left partially satisfied after being given a few sentences of the McKays' wellbeing by Alida LaRue.
They were not, however, permitted to capture footage of Lachlan and Lyra, per Brenda's hard-fought-for agreement with all media outlets prior to the birth.
Four days later, Dylan drove his family to their local PMI, Protection Maternelle et Infantile, to secure the children's healthcare.
Automatically waking to the sound of heartwrenching silence in the wee hours of their first weekend home, Brenda found her husband speaking quietly to Lachlan in one arm and Lyra in the other as he rocked them in the old Walsh rocking chair that had been rediscovered in the Beevis attic.
"We're gonna let Mommy sleep, okay? Her body's been through a lot to bring you guys to me. My heart is Bren's, but I guess since it's okay with her, you both can share it."
He dipped his face towards one infant, then the other. His nose pressed against both of theirs.
Brenda ziplined to the moon and discovered that it was crafted out of marshmallows.
"Lach, you're a McKay. Lyra, you are too. But I promise that the ordinary life of a McKay will never be either of yours. No fu - shi - I mean, what did your uncle David say around your cousin Marissa? Fireworking? Yeah. No fireworking divorce. Your mom and I will be making out all the time, so get used to it now because I'm addicted to Brenda's lips and I won't apologize for that. There won't be any abandonment, from me or from her. No car bombs. No boat explosions. No feelings of unworthiness. No wondering if you were a mistake. You two are gonna be sick to death of how loved we will all ensure you feel. I'm going to embarrass you daily because I will definitely be picking you up from school, since Mommy's schedule might be tight. Don't worry; Mommy will pick you up, too, when she can. And your big sissy will always be looking out for you guys. Also, we're probably gonna stay in France 'til who knows how long, so make sure to annoy Steve with that when he tries to tell you California is better."
Forgetting her attempt to hide, Brenda power walked over to Dylan and gave him a searing kiss.
"What's that for?" He smiled against her lips, foreheads aligning with their children sleeping between.
"For being you," she stated simply, and then curled up on his lap to cocoon around her family. "If the kids at West Bev could see you now."
"Still Mad, Bad, and Dangerous to Know?" he asked, slipping Lachlan into Brenda's arms before Lachlan's cries for food could wake Lyra.
"Do you still want to be?" Brenda asked as she unbuttoned her nightshirt and began to feed their son.
"Bren, when it comes to protecting you and our family, I'll always be Mad, Bad, and Dangerous to Know," said Dylan with a string of kisses to her hairline. "There won't be any guns or scissors pointed at you in our next pregnancy. Anyone tries; they'll answer to me."
"It's adorable that you think there'll be another."
"I don't think there will be; I know there will be. Your vag has shown us just how much it's capable of, and I've never loved it more. I fully intend to keep you looking exactly like this for as long as possible."
"Dylan, I look awful."
"Bren, you have no idea how fucking sensational you are. It's literally impossible for you to look awful. How do you still not know how much watching you feed our son is turning me on?"
"It doesn't take much for me to turn you on."
"That's not the point." Dylan reached out to softly thumb the breast not occupied by their child's lips.
"Then what is the point?"
"The point is that my love for you transcends time and the universe itself. Watching you with our children, knowing your body has carried three of my kids and managed to bring them all into this world; well, there's no way I can accurately describe the powerful feeling that comes from that. So next time you think you look awful, just remember that the guy who somehow won Most Handsome in that stupid senior poll is indescribably in love with you and spends every day thanking whatever deity there is that you chose him, that you were still alive to choose him."
She didn't know what to say to that. Perhaps words weren't required.
Dylan's thumb was quickly replaced by his own lips in a gentle pleasuring of Brenda's tingling skin.
"Besides," he got out through a mouthful of breast, "need I remind you how many times Alida had to turn down Vogue when they asked to put you on the front cover?"
He did have a point. Vogue's request had rolled in after the Cannes, directly following Brenda's insistence to Dylan that she had become bigger than Roald Dahl's Violet Beauregarde when Willie Wonka had turned the child into a blueberry.
"Less talking," Brenda moaned. "More suckling."
"From me, or from our kids?" Dylan teased.
"Both is fine."
"Then I shall comply."
"Shall? Okay, Finn Cavend -"
Dylan quietened Brenda by clamping his lips onto her nipple.
"Let's try that again," he murmured. "What's my name?"
"Dylan," she whimpered.
"And what's yours?"
"Brenda."
"Brenda what?"
"Brenda McKay."
"Brenda McKay, star of the screen, internationally renowned, CalArts graduate, wife of Dylan McKay and mother of Aurora, Lyra, and Lachlan McKay," Dylan corrected.
"I think that's a little long to put into the headlines," Brenda said as she pat Lachlan's back to burp him.
"Give it a year or three and it'll be even longer." He raised Brenda off of his waist to carefully set Lyra in her crib.
"Oh no, we are not getting pregnant again in a year. I have to recover from the last nine months first." She pointed towards her flabby stomach, concealed by one of Dylan's shirts. "I don't want to still be wearing maternity dresses at Brandon's wedding."
"Then whatever wedding's after that. David and Val's, maybe."
"You think they're going to get married?" she asked, placing Lachlan beside Lyra. Oblivious to the fact that they would shortly require their own cribs, the twins nestled together in a sight that made Brenda's heart threaten to explode. "Weren't you the one who thought it was a bad idea for David to propose?"
"Oh, they'll get hitched." Dylan smiled, setting his hand on the railing of the crib as he also watched their sleeping infants. "David's not going to lose her again. I can relate." Turning towards Brenda, he said, "Now that the cocker spaniel's best friends have gone back to sleep, where were we? About here, I think?" He sucked on her neck, pulling her into him.
It was that sensation alone that carried her entire family into a world without gravity.
Before Brenda returned to work, she began lactating support, ten sessions of kinesitherapy, and was even offered psychological support, all covered.
She had the feeling both Donna and Janet were a tad jealous, particularly when Janet asked Steve why the hell they had never moved to France.
Brenda was amused when Janet found Steve's response of Because there's no place like California, Babykins unacceptable.
Steve then found Janet's response of Well then I'll just go stay with Bren when I'm pregnant with our next kid equally unacceptable, and did not appreciate Brenda's enthusiastic agreement on the matter.
Clare, who at that moment continued to have zero desire to become a mother, questioned aloud whether she should move back.
Whereas in the Walsh twins, Brandon had been the easy sleeper and Brenda the crier, in the McKay twins, it was switched. Lachlan cried throughout the night, whilst Lyra slept peacefully. Lyra was the first to crawl; Lachlan, the first to walk.
Lyra swam first. Lachlan spoke first.
Their parents were disheartened when, atop their respective ponies, both twins bawled to return to the ground.
Lachlan took more after his mother. Lyra became a miniature of her father. Unlike their father, however, both twins were surrounded by family, with a horde of well-off aunts and uncles who could fly five thousand miles at a moment's notice.
Occasionally, Brenda wondered if the twins desired more space from their family than they were afforded.
Lyra was closer to Steve and David. Lachlan was closer to Brandon and Andrea. Both twins adored their godmothers, Donna and Valerie. Lyra aspired to become like her tía Erica. Lachlan dreamt in science, as did his aunt Clare. Lyra became enamored with photography, like her uncle Robinson, and writing, like her father and aunt Janet. The only time either twin did not complain of shopping was when they were able to do so with their tante Chloé, followed by lunch outings with their tonton Sébastien.
They visited their mother's family in Minnesota. They visited their father's mother atop a pineapple mountain in Hawaii. They visited the grave of their older sister during annual trips to see Umberto Jimenez and Nat Bussichio that always ended in a visit to Baja.
They avoided Moldova and Palm Springs at all costs, for the leviathan known as Brenda's PTSD would continue to rear its grotesque head whenever either of those locations were mentioned.
When the nightmares came, Dylan's arms were always there to offer refuge.
Over the years and as their family continued to grow, the McKays learned to accept that their marriage would sometimes be affected by long-distance. As Dylan had predicted, he did need to fly out to conferences, particularly after Finn had connected him with some of the world's top leaders in the fight against global warming. At times, Brenda did film abroad without her husband and children; at others, they were able to join her in exotic locales of which their array of cousins could only dream, acquiring passports inundated with colorful stamps before their fourth birthday.
Her show was cancelled when the twins were five, ending with the long-awaited second wedding of Anabelle Bellerose to Rémy Lamarre. Following the cancellation, Brenda created a production company with Blaise Rennard. Their first film, a biographical piece on Pulitzer winner Brandon Walsh that included cinematography by David Silver and photography by Robinson Ashe, had been featured at Sundance. Their next piece regarding Sherice Ashe's empire as the International Popcorn Queen won at the Cannes. Brenda then surprised Andrea with a series on the life of her beloved, belated grandmother Rose, which had brought Andrea Zuckerman a waterfall of emotion and Brenda a plethora of thank yous.
With Dylan's permission, Brenda had created a screenplay of their life, careful to fictionalize as much as possible so that the viewer - and, more importantly, the media - would be unable to tell the difference between reality and creativity.
Dylan claimed that the film, which had long been in production, featured far too much of the character meant to represent Finn and not enough of the character that represented him.
Their children learnt to surf, to fish, to dance. Lachlan spoke four different languages by his sixth birthday, French first amongst them, and could write before he began his schooling. Lyra had mastered the bottom turn by the time she was five, during a visit to Erica in Castille. The little girl had informed both of her parents that she would grow up to become a champion surfer, to which Dylan pounded the air in jubilation and Brenda told Lyra she could do anything she desired, provided she put in the required effort.
Shortly after the birth of their fourth child, another boy they called Orion - "son of Poseidon," Dylan had said with an arrogant puff of his chest - they had heard the news of Lawrence Carson's unexpected death. With Stuart incarcerated, the Carson fortune was held under lock and key.
Somehow, Finn managed to find a legal way to get hold of the entire fortune from the State of California; the McKays had long since stopped trying to determine how. When Finn asked Brenda what she desired to be done with the money to ensure Stuart's continued bankruptcy, Brenda asked for Finn to donate half of the amount to organizations that helped women escape from abusive households in the United States, United Kingdom and France.
The rest, she asked to be given to the family of the late Ruslana Bartos.
The marriage was not without arguments, which they ensured to always talk out. The rare interloper was ignored. During any crises, however small, they leant on each other. They continued to attend therapy, which transitioned from weekly sessions to monthly, and then bimonthly. Dylan never partook in drugs again. When, on the tenth anniversary of Aurora's death, Brenda returned home to find Dylan in torment over his memories of the crash that he had attempted to dissipate with drink, she did not pack up the children and leave him.
Instead, their toddlers were sent for a visit with their tía, whilst Brenda stayed by her husband's side until Dylan once more lacked the urge to drink and understood that Brenda was fine, despite his swarming inner demons announcing he had permanently lost her in an ocean of blood.
Then, they attended AA together, in the Rue Madame.
Five years into Dylan's new sobriety, on a weekend shortly before their eighteenth anniversary, Brenda walked into their kitchen in a huff and set a second load of fresh laundry on a chair.
"I'm mad at you," she said.
"Why are you mad at me?" Dylan leant over to kiss her shoulder, their youngest leaping around in the carrier strapped to his chest.
"This!" She gestured to her stomach that had once more begun to round out.
"Oh, that," he laughed, moving the pan around to formulate the liquid within.
"I told you no more after Vita."
"Well, Bren, you tried going back on the pill and we still got Vita here. So unless you let me break our no-condom rule, there's not much we can do without becoming monks."
"We are not breaking that rule, Dylan. You got me addicted. Mama needs her fix."
"And that's why Mama is carrying baby number five."
"Six," they corrected together, briefly glancing at the ceiling.
Vita, whose impatience had begun in Brenda early labor whilst riding in a private train car with Dylan during an anniversary trip through the Norwegian fjords, clapped along to the engine sounds emanating from the audiobook on Dylan's mobile.
He pressed Vita's tiny hand against her mother's stomach. "What do you think, little darlin'? Boy or girl?"
"Lachlan's hoping for a girl," said Brenda, folding her hand into her youngest daughter's.
"Lach always hopes for a girl," Dylan smiled, pushing Brenda's hair back behind her ear. "Lyra thinks it's a boy."
"No surprise there." Their almost eight-year old twins rarely agreed on anything. "What does Orion want?" Brenda shook her head. "Never mind. We know what he wants."
They said, in sync, "Another dog."
Shortly after Lachlan had coaxed his parents into accepting their second stray cat, five-year-old Orion had begun begging for a dog in addition to the four horses and cocker spaniel their family already owned.
Brenda hoped that Vita would also enjoy riding, as Orion did, for the twins still adamantly refused to climb back on a horse.
It certainly hadn't helped to taper Orion's quest when his uncle Brandon mentioned that Kelly had contacted their son's school about rehoming the litter Cap had put into their neighbor's dog, leading to six-year-old Kirby offering a puppy to his cousin.
Orion was told by his aunt Valerie that twelve-year-old Marissa Silver had already claimed that particular puppy. Valerie then went on to complain to Brenda and Donna about the strict daycare rules set in place for three-year old Melody.
Donna advised Valerie to mention her concerns to the head of the daycare, as Robinson had done during the nearly nine-year-old Demario's time in the same location.
She had left Brenda to speak with Valerie alone in order to head out to a PTA meeting, which Donna headed up at her daughters' school when she wasn't bringing her family along to the catwalk featuring her ensembles during Paris Fashion Week.
That was Brenda's favorite week of the year, when the family of five would annually stay with the McKay brood. Robinson and Dylan always took the children, allowing their wives to briefly return to the days when their only concerns were gossip at sleepovers and the accidental consumption of brains in upscale Parisian restaurants.
The proud parents of three children - the oldest of whom was named after star Minnesota Twins player Kirby Puckett, the middle of whom carried a name indicative of Washington D.C. and the third of whom honored the Silver side of their family - Brandon and Kelly were now contemplating a fourth. They were, however, content with their two boys and one girl.
"If it happens, it happens," Brandon told his sister. "If it doesn't, it doesn't."
"Did you ask Arianell and Ben what they think?"
"All they want is for Cap to father another litter of puppies, when we've just finished rehoming the first one," said Brandon. "I blame you."
"Me? Why me?"
"One word, sis: Wally."
"Ouch," said Brenda.
She hadn't quite figured out how she felt about having more children than her brother. In their adolescence, it had been Brandon who wanted a large family and Brenda who wanted something manageable.
Regardless, she knew that she wouldn't trade any of her children for the world.
Brandon then asked Valerie if she and David had considered adding one more to their own blended family.
Val, who as a newlywed had adopted Marissa before the child's sixth birthday, told both twins "Hell no" and added that she was perfectly fine being a mother of two, like Janet.
"David should just be glad he got any kids out of me," she said.
It had been a difficult pregnancy for Valerie, magnified by the advice from her concerned obstetrician to quit her antidepressants in order to help the possibility of a healthy child.
David had hovered over Valerie for most of her pregnancy, ensuring that when the memories got to be too much, she turned to him and not to the Bluffs.
They had all worried over her mental state, and then her physical state, when Valerie had been admitted with preeclampsia.
Judging by the grasp little Melody Silver had on both of her parents' hearts, as well as her older sister's, it had all been worth it in the end.
Valerie then went on to tell the Walsh twins that Clare had said in the event she ended up with children, she would prefer one, like Andrea.
Clare had evidently not yet heard Andrea's recent news regarding her second child with longtime partner, native New Yorker Josh Richland.
Having married the love of her own life when Brenda was well into her pregnancy with Orion, Erica awaited her first any day. The McKays were in constant communication with her husband for an update, and Dylan had become amused at his anxious questions.
The latest had been whether Erica could attend the opening of a new art gallery, as Finn had been concerned of the short flight of stairs she would be required to take.
Brenda had advised Dylan to not tell Finn that their entire family had climbed the Spanish Steps whilst she had been in her third trimester with Orion.
"Cat!" said Vita, waving around towards her mother's stomach.
Both of Dylan's eyebrows shot up. "Cat? There's a cat in my wife? Hey you," he leant down, keeping his palm on the back of Vita's dark hair, "no cats allowed in Bren's belly."
At that moment, Orion darted through, chasing after Cyprus the orange tabby.
"Reminds me of when Lach thought Orion was a fish," Brenda laughed, catching their youngest son.
"And Lyra thought Vita was a pony," said Dylan as he rose.
"She sure galloped around in there like a pony."
"I think our kids need to stop listening to our over-imaginative godson's tales about what grows in your stomach and start getting an education from Columbia-educated Hannah on what actually does."
"Does Daddy want a boy?"
"I could go for either. I'm thinking Aurora will send us quads. What do you think?"
She shot him a heated stare and set back down Orion, who took off with nary a word.
"Don't even put that out into the atmosphere. This is the last one, Dylan. I mean it this time."
"So, vasectomy then?"
"No, I won't do that to you. But I am getting my tubes tied."
"As long as you're happy, Bren." He began dishing out six plates of strawberry banana chocolate chip crepes. "Are you happy?"
"I could have never imagined being this happy, Dylan. Are you happy?"
"I've got the best wife in the universe, a team of kids fluent in Frenglish with one of them starting to get fluent in español, and our boys won the World Series," he said, kissing her. "You won't find any man happier than I."
"My boys are still the Minnesota Twins," Brenda reminded him.
"Our Angels forgive you," he said, running his tongue over her lip until she granted him full access.
"Lach! Notre mére et père are bumping faces again!" they heard Lyra groan.
"Quick, snap a pic," said Lachlan. "Promised to give it to Rissa next time they bumped faces 'cause marraine Val wants it for -"
"Marraine Val wants it for what, sweetheart?" asked Brenda as she reluctantly released her husband.
"Bordel de merde! I mean, nothing," said Lachlan.
"Dylan!" Brenda glared. "Have you been cursing around our impressionable son?"
Lyra glanced at her twin, and then her mother. "Uh, Maman? 'Member yesterday, after school with the driver you called a conna -"
"Okay baby, let's not repeat that," said Brenda, blushing profusely.
Dylan chortled, turning off the stove. "That's two for the octopus."
"You fill it up just as much," Brenda grumbled. She removed two coins from her pocket, inserting them into the octopus-shaped piggy bank that sat above the fridge.
Valerie had been the first one forced to place a coin into the octopus. Brenda had been next; then Dylan, a mere second after his wife.
Lachlan walked up to his mother, laying his head against Brenda's stomach. He looked up at her, disappointed. "I can't feel anything."
"Oh, the baby won't start moving around for a few weeks yet," she said, cupping her eldest son's face.
"You'll tell me when she does, right?"
"He," Lyra corrected.
"No, she," Lachlan argued.
"He!" Lyra insisted. "Right, Orion? We're having another brother, aren't we?"
Orion glanced between his older siblings and offered an indifferent shrug.
"Well, Vita says we're having a sister," said Lachlan.
"Vita can barely talk," said Lyra. "I'm older, so I know more, and I say that oats sack under Maman's shirt is our baby brother."
"Oats sack under my shirt?" asked Brenda. "Does it really look like an oats sack, Dyl?"
"It looks perfect," said Dylan. "A perfect bump just starting to swell, protecting our youngest child as he or she grows until they're ready to come out and join these rugrats."
"Only by seventeen minutes!" said Lachlan.
"By a day," said Lyra.
"Seventeen minutes is not a day."
"I was born on one day; you were born on the next. It counts."
"Does not."
"Does so."
"Does not."
"Does so!"
"Does not. I was born the same day as you in California, and that's where Papa's from."
"'Cept we weren't born in California, so I'm older by a day."
"Are not."
"Are so."
"That's enough, you two. No more arguing." Dylan separated the twins before Lyra said something she would regret and Lachlan withdrew in response. "You'll upset your mother."
"Je suis désolé, Maman," they chorused.
"Merci," said Brenda. "Es no problema," she added to Dylan.
"Sí, es un problema," he said.
"What'd they say, Lach?" asked Lyra.
"Somethin' 'bout no problem, yes problem," said Lachlan.
"Maman, if our brother makes you die and you get to say hi to 'Rora, can I have your necklaces?" asked Lyra.
"Lyra Aisling McKay!" said Dylan. "What did we say when Vita was in your mother?"
"Don't ask Maman 'bout when she dies and we'll talk about it when you're sixteen," Lyra quoted.
"Still applies," said Dylan.
"Sorry, Maman."
Brenda glanced at Dylan, who always went into panic mode at the thought of her not being around. "Lyra, you may borrow my necklaces whenever you'd like, but I will very much be alive after your littlest sibling is born, or I will haunt your Papa's overly fertile a -"
"Octopus, Bren!" warned Dylan.
"Booty," finished Brenda.
"Like pirate booty?" asked Lyra. "Papa's a pirate?"
"I am a pirate," said Dylan, "and the thought of losing your mother makes me go Argggh!" He lifted the squealing Lyra with one arm, flying her over to be close enough to kiss Vita's nose.
"Maman, I didn't ask 'bout when you die. So can I go pack for Karpathos now?" Lachlan asked, anxious to get to their summer home.
"It's too early, mon trésor," said Brenda. "But you can pack for Baja."
In an unusual agreement, both twins cheered.
"Is Papa flying?" asked Lachlan.
"Lach, buddy, you know I always fly," said Dylan.
"Not always," said Lyra. "Not when we go see tía Erica and tío Flounder."
"Dylan!" scolded Brenda with a shake of her head.
"Don't look at me, Bren. Finn's the one who told our daughter she could call him that after Becca's kids showed our daughter that Ariel chick."
"It's 'cause he's scared of the sea," said Lyra in a matter-of-fact manner. "A guppy."
"We don't call people guppies, Lyra. And I suppose Finn told her that, too?" Brenda asked her husband.
"Tía Erica did," their daughter clarified, preventing the trouble Dylan would have found himself in with Brenda.
"Yeah. It's Erica's fault," Dylan told Brenda cheekily.
"I'm gonna finish packing before you," said Lachlan.
"Are not," said Lyra, urging her father to put her back down.
"Are too!" said Lachlan. "Race you."
"Last one to the bedroom has to do the chores for a week!" said Lyra.
"See ya, wouldn't wanna be ya." Lachlan dashed out of the kitchen with his twin soon following.
"We split the chores evenly in this house!" Brenda called after them.
"Don't take long!" Dylan added. "Breakfast will be ready soon, and then tante Chloé's picking you up to take you to swim club, Lyra!" He turned to gaze at Brenda, the hint of a smirk on his lips.
"Don't say it," she warned her husband.
"Say what? I wasn't gonna say anything."
"Yeah, right. You were gonna say how much those two are like me and Bran."
"Well, they are, but I wasn't gonna say it. Your parents say it enough as it is."
"Oh yeah, Dad gets a real kick out of their arguing. Bran and I weren't that bad."
Dylan crooked an eyebrow at her.
"We weren't!"
"Okay, Bren."
"It's your fault too, you know."
It had, after all, been Iris who detailed the traits of a Gemini to her oldest granddaughter, which Lyra ensured to follow to the letter.
"Of course it is," Dylan agreed. "Our kids are equal part you, equal part me. But that? Is all Minnesota Twins."
"And you want even more of that?"
"Oh yeah. I'll take a hundred thousand moments of that, because it means that despite all the people who tried to keep us apart, all the shi" he glanced at Vita, "shirtwaist we went through - all the shirtwaist you went through - the loner boy has a family with the girl who's surpassed even his wildest fantasies."
Before Brenda could respond, they were interrupted by Orion tugging on his father's leg.
"Papa, horsey?"
"Let me put your sister down first and then we can play horsey."
"No." Orion made a face at the idea. "No play. Horsey. No Papa horsey." He screwed up his face, intent on figuring out his request. Brightening, he continued. "Riding? Go riding?"
Brenda bent to pick up her youngest son, who dove his head into her shoulder and shyly looked at his father.
"Oh, you want to go riding!" Dylan's gratitude showed through that he wouldn't need to become a horse, as he had often been for the twins. "Absolutely, buddy." He mussed Orion's curls. "We can go tomorrow."
This time, Orion cheered.
"I'll bring the kids by the studio later?" Dylan asked.
"Oui," Brenda said. "But keep an eye on Blaise. He's determined to get Lachlan in the movie."
"Lach will jump at the opportunity," said Dylan. "I blame Silver. He's filmed the twins too much."
"We'll just keep the cameras off of the kids in Baja."
"Sounds like a plan." Dylan set one hand against Brenda's cheek and the other on her stomach. "Should I bring something peachy when I see you later?"
"What do you think?" Brenda tilted her head at him.
"Smoothie like Vita, pie like the twins, or sorbet like Orion?"
"Believe it or not, this one just wants a really ripe peach."
"Your wish is my command." He gave her a kiss that still managed to cause a weakening of her entire body. "And to think, if you'd married Cavendish, you -"
"- wouldn't be able to snog him for nine whole months with all of these peach cravings. Yeah, yeah, I know. Do you have to tell me that every time?"
Keeping his arms safely tucked around Vita, he bent halfway down to kiss Brenda's stomach. "Bren, I once signed divorce papers for you to marry that guy, so yes, I have to tell you every time."
"I still can't believe you actually signed." She dug her fingers into his hair. His kiss became his tongue, circling her navel through the slit of her buttoned shirt.
"Dy - Dyl," she managed, "ki - kids."
He straightened back up.
"I still can't believe you let me sign when you could've easily told me you didn't want me to," he said.
"I know, but after almost eighteen years of marriage, you should know you're the only man I want, baby."
"Just like you know you're the only woman I want, right?"
"Considering I've given you all these kids, I would certainly hope so," Brenda teased, bouncing Orion against her hip. "Otherwise, you've just used me for sex - agons."
"Well, the sexagon is only part of it. Can't wait to get you alone in the cabin this weekend for our anniversary."
"You really think David and Val can handle this brood while we're away?" a worried Brenda asked.
"Babe, you ask that every time. The kids will be fine. Blaise and Chloé will be on hand if there are any problems."
"I never like leaving them."
"I know you don't. I don't, either, but it's only for the weekend. They've been looking forward to this."
"You mean, Lyra's been looking forward to begging Val for another cousin."
There were other issues, as well: namely, the new terminology the twins came away with every time Valerie watched the McKay children, terminology that Valerie swore never came from her.
"Would love to see Val's face when Lyra asks her yet again," said Dylan. "But it's much more important for us to keep the romance alive."
"Like we have any problem keeping the romance alive," Brenda scoffed.
"Well, it's easy when I have the world's sexiest wife."
"Five and a half kids later and you still think I'm the world's sexiest wife?"
"If I didn't, Bren, we wouldn't have five and a half kids." Dylan leant in for another passionate kiss, Vita flipping her fins between. "Mm, yep, mon amour." His hands glided down her figure as he kissed Brenda's head, then Orion's. "Can confirm I'm one incredibly happy guy, and it's all because of you."
"Papa," said Lyra, popping her head back in, "will Kaito be joining us in Baja?"
Dylan appeared uneasy as he told their daughter that Kaito Sanders would indeed be joining them in Baja.
"I take that back," Dylan said. "I'm a mostly happy guy."
And they were happy, truly, even if Brenda was less than pleased when he managed to slip another into her just before her procedure, resulting in the welcome of Isla a mere eleven months after the birth of Ronan.
Ronan, who accompanied his parents within Brenda's protruding abdomen when she, Dylan, Brandon and the entire octagon with their respective spouses all entered the halls of West Beverly for a belated celebration of the Wildcats' twentieth anniversary later that autumn.
A twentieth which Donna, head of West Beverly's events committee, had designed as an exact copy of their prom at Brenda's request, allowing Dylan and Brenda McKay, plus Brandon and Kelly Walsh, to do prom the right way.
And when Donna had one of her occasional glasses of champagne with Robinson that turned into five, Yvonne Teasly, aged only in number, didn't say a word.
The baby said it for her, nine months later when the Ashes welcomed their fourth and final child.
The child that would bond Brenda and Donna for life, when the Ashes' youngest married lifetime best friend Ronan McKay.
Dylan would be much happier at that wedding than he would be watching his girl be taken by another man; and by a Sanders, no less.
Their large family would watch their father's overdramatized attempt to speak now at that wedding of Kaito Sanders to newly-crowned WSL champion Lyra McKay, where Vita's stomach would jut outward with the first set of McKay triplets.
Triplets that her cousin Marissa would also bear, leading the enthused Valerie to announce that hers and David's grandchildren would be Brenda Walsh, Brandon Walsh and Valerie Walsh, Take Two.
Brenda had said three children, maximum.
That maximum of three children would be blessed upon her middle daughter, instead, for Dylan hadn't given Brenda three.
He hadn't even given her six.
Six kids plus a daughter in the sky was more than even Dylan had daydreamt all those years previously and, before he could further increase that amount, Brenda ensured her impossibility to have additional children, without breaking their rule.
But those six children raised in their loving home who learnt early on to not pit their parents against each other would go on to give them a large quantity of grandchildren, who would then provide enough for several sports teams through their great-grandchildren.
And, as a wrinkly, greyed Brenda closed her eyes snuggled up to her equally greyed husband shortly after her hundred and second birthday - the tenth birthday without a midnight teleport from her barely-older twin - she envisioned a sixteen-year-old Dylan gazing out on her terrible hair from the back of his bike.
"It's not that bad," he would claim, a rare moment in eighty-eight years of acquaintance that he would lie to her.
Dylan, of course, would say it hadn't been a lie.
The future love of her life. The date at all of her premieres. The first to applaud at awards shows, both when she won and when she lost. The companion on her innumerable travels. The opinion she sought when she wanted to redo the paint color of the living room. The shoulder offered at funerals, first of Brenda's grandparents; then of their parents, and then their siblings. The uncle of her numerous nieces and nephews. The great-uncle of her even more voluminous great-nieces and great-nephews. The Papa of her children. The Pépé of her grandchildren. The Great-Grandpapa of her great-grandchildren. The Fuck, Grandpapa Squared, how the hell are you still surfing at your age? of their great-great-granddaughter, whose frequent expletives were already worse than her great-great-grandfather's had ever been.
But, in that moment, he was simply her twin brother's best friend, offering to make a hair appointment for her before suggesting she hop on the back of his bike.
Neither had a clue of their epic history yet to unfold.
The good, the bad, the really fucking terrible, and the endless amounts of near-perfection that outweighed all the rest.
So she climbed behind that fucking irresistible bastard with his fucking gorgeous dimples, shook out her long hair that had returned to its natural onyx state, grasped onto his waist with unwrinkled hands, and rode into the land beyond the clouds where their Aurora stood, waiting.
x fin
Translations: tía - aunt in Spanish; tante - aunt in French; tonton - uncle in French; español - Spanish; Notre mére et père - our mother and father; marraine - godmother; Je suis désolée - I'm sorry; Merci - thank you; mon trésor - my treasure; tío - uncle in Spanish (not translated: place names)
And that's a wrap, where I've clearly made it trés dificil for me to ever write a decent final chapter again, ha! Not at all how I originally expected Seven to end (Bren telling Dylan she was pregnant, end fic; alternate ending would've been after Isla's first mention,) but certainly how I came to feel it should.
LnL's godfather was left intentionally open-ended, allowing those readers who wanted Finn, those who wanted David, those who wanted Brandon, etc to fill into that spot themselves.
Thanks for coming along on the Seven journey! To any Guests who may read, enjoy and review in the future, thank you in advance, as I will unfortunately be unable to respond directly.
Until the next chapter of Itero, or the next chapter of Illumination, whichever comes first,
April Dawn x