"In a perfect world, I think that there was a - there was a version of the world where Brandon and Kelly, you know, were the - were the king and queen of the prom, but, um -" - Jason Priestley, Beverly Hills Show Podcast in August 2020
xx
Bokeh lights danced along the coastal highway, casting various hues on the bottomless Pacific below.
She shipped a grateful letter off to a higher power for having a friend to sit in the driver's seat, as Donna expertly maneuvered the Silvers' Toyota Sienna past an incoming freightliner.
Driving coastal roads petrified Brenda, though she firmly believed that California coastal roads weren't half as terrifying as their European counterparts.
David sat alongside their driver with one hand on her knee. His free hand secured a splayed road map to aid in his duty as passenger seat navigator.
Steve convinced Brenda to share the backseat, Brandon took the middle with two of his favorite women, and the only vacancy left for Dylan was conveniently placed in the far back corner.
She asked why they decided to forgo the use of a second car, to which Steve announced the Silver vehicle could easily fit twenty people.
David called him out on his hyperbole.
Her vision began to blur, meshing vehicles with headlights until they flew into the ocean and soared sponged paintings into the heavens.
"You okay, Bren?" asked Dylan, voice carrying the warmth of a fluffy blanket on the eve of a raging blizzard.
"I'm fine," she reassured, "Just been crazy busy and still fighting jet lag, I'm afraid."
"Why don't you rest for a bit?" he suggested, stroking her hair. "I'll wake you if you're still asleep when we get into the city."
"That's a good idea," Brenda said, just before emitting a double yawn.
"It would seem so," he smiled, his deep gaze fading into oblivion in her bleary state.
Envisioning the London skyline behind closed eyes, she promptly fell asleep on Steve's inviting shoulder.
Half a trip later, she awoke with her head resting on Dylan's and his arm tucked behind her back.
Brenda hurriedly sat up against the middle headrest.
"Welcome back, Sleepy Jean," he murmured into her ear. "Looks like the Sandman gave you one too many doses."
"How long did I sleep?"
"Long enough."
She peered out the window over a snoring Steve, noticing the coastal view sat hidden behind state parks and ranches.
That was the beautiful part of California. In the question of beach versus mountain, those who selected both could easily find something to love about the state's multi-terrain scenery.
"Babe, why are you using the GPS? I'm telling you, if you listen to this thing, we'll end up in Malibu."
"David, you heard what the salesman said when he sold us this car. It's a top-notch navigation system."
"He's a car salesman, Donna. It's ingrained in them to lie. I'm the map keeper and I say follow the map."
They spoke in hushed tones that began to raise in decibel.
"I just don't understand what you have against this GPS, David. Most guys would die to have a system like ours. You would've."
"I would if it weren't a rip-off."
"Shush, you're gonna wake Bren."
"He's right, Donna," said Dylan, "the woman in the GPS is giving incorrect information. And Bren's awake."
"About time, sis," said Brandon, turning his head away from a whispering Kelly and a giggling Andrea.
Brenda smacked his shoulder.
"Hey!"
"Oh, come off it, that barely hurt."
"I don't know; I think a certain gorgeous love of mine should kiss it and make it better."
Kelly happily complied.
"No kissing in the car!" yelled David.
"Since when is that a rule?" she asked.
"Since we take our kids around in this car," he informed his older sister. "The only people allowed to kiss are the Double D's."
"Man, you still call yourselves that?" Dylan said, cringing.
"Once the Double D's, always the Double D's."
"Lads, Steve's asleep," Brenda said, covering him with a folded blanket that sat on the floor, "maybe we should quiet down."
"You know Steve, Bren. Could sleep through a meteor shower," said Brandon.
"Has slept through a meteor shower," Dylan reminded him, cupping Brandon's uninjured shoulder.
"Oh, that's right. I heard about Sleeping Beauty and the Leonid meteor shower back in '02."
"That's because I told you," said Kelly, pecking his lips.
"Kel!"
"Crap. Sorry, David."
Brenda examined Andrea for signs of a perpetual unrequited love that might affect her comfort in their seating arrangement.
Instead, the former Editor-in-Chief of the West Beverly Blaze simply smiled and looked at the sleeping Steve.
The closer they got to Beverly Hills, the more frustration David found in the GPS. By the time they reached Encino, he shut it down completely.
Having almost been rerouted twice, Donna did not voice an objection.
As if the absence of an automatic female voice led to a summoning, Steve awoke.
"What happened to the lady?" he asked, blinking sleep out of his eyes as he wrapped an arm around Brenda's upper back.
Dylan's arm sank lower, just above her waistline.
"Which lady?" asked Brandon. "There's four in here."
"Not those ladies, Brando," said Steve impatiently, "the hot one."
"Are you saying we're not hot?" asked Kelly in indignation.
"Not at all what I'm saying, Kel," he replied, "but none of you have her voice."
Dylan glanced at Brandon and the two men burst out in synchronized laughter.
"Uh, Steve, I think you mean the GPS," said Brandon, failing to stifle his reaction.
"Piece of shit GPS," David said with dripping venom.
"David! Language!"
"Donna, the kids aren't in here," he replied.
"Oh, right. Habit," she said and peeked in the overhead mirror to briefly study their friends.
"Are we nearly there? I'm starving," announced Steve.
"You're always starving," said Dylan.
"Can't help it if I have more muscle tone than you and Brando combined and need a good, hearty meal."
"Muscle tone, huh?" Kelly said, giving him a skeptical once-over.
"Kel," Steve warned.
"Look, we're coming up on The Getty," said Donna, pointing towards the polished cultural mecca.
"Thank God. I can almost taste that mega burger."
"Almost? Steve, you just had a mega burger yesterday."
"You can never have enough mega burgers, Dyl."
Brenda watched each of her friends closely, thankful that though some did age in various ways, their personalities either stayed the same or matured.
Even the most mature adult could revert back to adolescence when thrown in the same space with people who knew them during a rebellious teenage phase.
She never really experienced one herself, though her beloved father Jim Walsh relayed a different viewpoint.
Shining pupil, bright volunteer, star of the stage. Aside from a few nights of broken curfew with Dylan, sneaking off to Mexico and a momentary decision to skip university that went by the wayside, Brenda rarely stepped out of line.
When she did, both parents never let her forget it. She quit one job under a manipulative manager and Jim later believed she hadn't tried to work in school.
Cattiness and late-night whispered gossip drove her out of a Minneapolis university, straight into CU where she dealt with immature drama all over again. But CU led to Roy Randolph and Roy opened the door to RADA.
Brenda couldn't and wouldn't regret her choice to leave. Relocating to London was undoubtedly the best decision of her life. She just wished the short-lived stay at CU had occurred without acquiring an arrest record or costing high school friendships that took a number of years to regain.
"What are you thinking about?" Dylan whispered, trailing his fingers through her thickly layered hair.
"Cats," she said under her breath.
"Cats?" he asked, tilting his head.
"Or rather, a cat."
"Let me guess. Could it be tin? Hot tin, maybe. Hanging out on a roof?" he caught on.
She sat amazed that he remembered.
A raucous growl sounded from Steve's stomach, startling them both.
"See? Told you I was hungry."
"Well good," said Donna, "because we're here."
Brenda observed the familiar building come into view, its neon sign brightly glowing below a clock always set on the wrong time. Noticing the brick building close by, she tapped Brandon's arm.
"Yeah, Bren?"
"What's the After Dark?"
"Damn, Brenda, you really have missed a lot," said Steve as they all realized just how much.
Freeing herself from the men, Brenda's gaze raked over every corner of the classic diner. She placed a few coins into the old jukebox and selected a fitting tune.
"Well, I guess the Peach Pit never changes," she said, swaying her hips to the music of the flower child generation.
"Oh, it's changed a couple hundred times since you left," said Dylan, leading her over to their chosen table.
"Or a couple hundred thousand," Steve said, selecting a spot by Brandon.
"Yeah," said David, pushing aside the unnecessary menus as he took a seat with Donna, "we finally talked Nat into changing it back. Told him retro is all the rage with today's teens."
"Well, it is," Kelly said, claiming a place on the other side of Brandon, "Silver's friends raided my old wardrobe. I'm terrified neon Lycra will be making a comeback."
"I was just thinking the same a couple of weeks ago," Brenda replied, astonished that they maintained the same fashion wavelength despite a waterlogged separation.
"If it does, we blame Donna," said a mischievous Kelly.
"Agreed," Brenda said in merriment.
"Hey! If anyone should be blamed for the return of neon Lycra, it's Kelly. It was practically her staple," Donna argued.
"Can't say I'd hate to see Kel in a micro skirt," said Brandon, tickling her elbow.
"Or Bren in a crop top," smirked Dylan.
"I have a better idea," she replied, eyes glistening with infinitely more sparkle than sun rays on a fresh snow, "Dylan in a crop top."
"No."
"Yes."
"No way," he said, adamant.
"I bet Maddie could get you in a crop top if she wanted," teased Brenda.
"Or you could model one for both of us."
Their exchange was met with bafflement by everyone at their shared table.
Steve glanced around.
"Did we walk into a time warp?" he asked.
"Why do you say that?" Brandon inquired.
"We're all here at the Pit," he gestured, "and Dylan and Brenda are being flirty with each other."
They broke eye contact and swiveled towards Steve.
"We're not flirting," Dylan said.
"Yeah, we're just friends," Brenda insisted.
"Great friends."
"Amazing friends."
"The best of friends."
"That's quite a change, considering you two only just started acknowledging each other again last week," Andrea noted with amusement.
"Would barely let us speak of the other for the past decade," added Donna, who sat situated between her husband's legs.
"And needed a guy's night after a certain disappointing Skype session," finished Steve, opening himself as a target for Dylan to signal the slashing motion of a hand across his neck.
"Well, see, Brenda and I finally did a little talking and decided anything less than friends is unacceptable," he said, biting his lower lip.
"And we've tried more than friends a few times," she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Exactly three times, but who's counting?" he said with an exaggerated shrug.
"Four," she corrected.
"If you're including the time you almost moved back to Minnesota, Bren, I'd say that hardly counts."
"How do you know I was counting that?"
"Hey, amazing friends, you two wanna get a room?" asked David, resting his chin on Donna's head.
"Just friends, young David," said Steve cheekily, "though I seem to remember they've tried that several times, too."
"Don't listen to him. It only works when we're both on the same page and we are. Kickstarting an old friendship for a new chapter," Brenda said with a glare to Steve. "I mean, Dylan probably has a girlfriend."
Donna's mouth opened and then hurriedly closed in response to a vicious shake of Dylan's head that went unnoticed by the woman whose focus stayed on Steve.
"And Bren probably has a boyfriend waiting for her back in jolly old England," added Dylan with a subtle flex of his jaw.
Steve began to interject, stopped mid-letter by her pleading stare.
"Right, we're probably dating other people," she lied.
"We wouldn't want to hurt these other people that we are probably dating," Dylan said.
"But as Steve said, we're both part of this weird little family, or not so little, I guess."
"And we obviously have a lot of history."
"So either we can continue to pretend the other doesn't exist -"
"- or she can be my friend."
"Which is clearly the better choice when you have as many mutual friends as we do."
"We do have a substantial amount of mutual friends," he agreed as a smile skated across his lips.
"If you two don't quit it, you're going to make it impossible for me to ever use the word friend again," spit out an irritated Brandon.
"Then it's a good thing that I refuse to be yours," Kelly flirted, leaning over to kiss the tip of his ear.
"Oh, we're never going back to that zone," Brandon replied, positioning himself to hide his smirk between her lips.
"Well, one Walsh will absolutely be getting a room tonight," said Steve, whose light blond brows lifted suggestively.
Opening one eye as he continued to explore Kelly's mouth, Brandon flicked a crude gesture in Steve's direction.
Samantha Sanders' adopted son merely chortled.
Glancing at Dylan to gauge his reaction, specifically seeking out any lingering feelings for his other ex-girlfriend, Brenda planted herself in another unprompted staring contest when his gaze met hers.
"So, Donna," she said, hurriedly turning to her friend, "when do I get to meet these phenomenal kids of yours?"
"Tonight," said Donna cheerfully, "when we go over to the Wa -"
Steve clapped his hand over her mouth.
"Steve!" said David, forcibly removing the hand entrapping his wife's voice.
"It's a surprise," he hissed.
"Right," Donna echoed after smacking the upside of Steve's head and regaining her speech, "it's a surprise."
"Lads, you know I hate surprises," Brenda groaned.
"Trust me, Bren, you'll love this one," said Dylan, his warm breath tickling her ear. "And so will D'Artagnan over there."
"You think Brandon would be D'Artagnan?" Andrea asked. "I'd think he's more Aramis."
"In the romance department, yes," Dylan agreed, "but in temperament, definitely D'Artagnan."
"Then that would make Steve Porthos," Brenda declared with a grin.
"Are you calling me fat, Bren?" asked Steve with warning.
"No, Steve, he's a musketeer."
He gifted her with a blank stare.
"The Three Musketeers," she said, "that novel by Alexandre Dumas that we were supposed to read junior year?" She paused and added, "or at least skim over the Cliffs Notes?"
Steve's perplexity remained.
"The Three Musketeers, Steve. You know, that movie starring Gabrielle Anwar and Kiefer Sutherland?" explained Dylan with the patience of a schoolteacher.
"Oh yeah," he said, pale pink lips stretching into a lopsided grin.
"Then I suppose you think you're Athos," said Brenda, regarding Dylan with mirth.
"You know it, babe," he winked, placing his arm over the top of their booth seat.
"It's official," Steve said, "Dylan's winking at Bren, Brando's making out with Kelly and we're stuck in English class. I'm back in high school. Can I get a redo before I forget my locker combination again?"
"There's just one problem with that theory," David said.
"What's that?" asked Steve.
"Brandon and my sister weren't together in high school," he noted, taking a sip of his soda.
"Not like your sister didn't try to show interest," said Kelly, deciding to come up for air.
"Kel, it would have been difficult for you to compete with Tricia and Emily and Nikki and Brooke and -"
"We get it, Bren," growled her brother, swinging Kelly onto his lap.
"Especially when he loved her like a sister," said David as he massaged Donna's thigh.
"Brandon, if you think of her as a sister now, remind me to stay the hell away from you," said Brenda, casually biting into the Pit's daily special.
Dylan hastily wiped the soda that snorted from his nose, as Brenda ducked from the evil eye aimed in her direction.
"Think I've made up for it?" Brandon murmured into Kelly's shoulder.
"Oh, absolutely," she laughed, engaging him in another prolonged kiss.
"I see distance did make the heart grow fonder," Dylan whispered to Brenda.
Overhearing, Brandon grinned.
"I've asked this beautiful woman to be my wife thrice now and she's accepted twice. In those two times, something always happened. The first was sheer stupidity on both of our ends," he said as Kelly cuddled into his chest, "and the second was just a bad twist in fate."
"That's putting it lightly," Andrea said, looking first to Steve and then to Dylan.
"You're right, Chief, but the important thing is that almost every vital person in mine and Kel's life is here as I ask a fourth time."
"Brandon," gasped Kelly.
"How about it, Kel? We've done the intimate beach proposal, the quiet park proposal, the grand proposal in the middle of Old Town Alexandria. Will you accept a fourth one here in the Peach Pit, prime spot for the old teenagers of Beverly Hills and classic film stars before that?"
"Of course I will," she squealed, pressing kisses over his face and then to his lips, "and I still have the ring."
"Oh thank God," said Brandon.
They all cheered, including, to Brenda's immense surprise, Dylan.
"Now we'll just have to make sure you two actually make it past the altar," Donna giggled.
"Well, let's check off the potential obstacles," Kelly said, bare arms looping around Brandon's neck, "Emily."
"History," he said, rubbing her shoulders.
"Two birds on a wire," said David with a note of levity.
"What was I thinking with that?" asked Kelly, caressing Brandon's hair. "I don't even like birds."
"Maybe whatever Brandon was thinking when he decided getting married without his twin sister around would be just fine," Brenda said in a mocking tone.
He appeared bewildered.
"I've apologized for that so many times and you did send the letter -"
"I'm kidding, brother. Lighten up."
He responded to her advice by balling up a napkin and throwing it.
"Maybe none of us were thinking that year," said Dylan, effortlessly catching the paper baseball before it hit the bullseye on its intended target.
His statement invoked a contemplative response from the table whilst they considered the events that occurred in the latter segments of the nineties.
"Nah," said Steve, breaking the silence, "I wouldn't have met Janet and without Janet, there'd be no Maddie. I wouldn't change that decade for anything."
"Not one bit of it, Steve?" asked Brandon, reaching over his fiancée to clasp their friend's shoulder.
"Not a thing," he replied.
"Not breaking into school and serving detention for the rest of senior year?" asked Andrea, sharing a suppressed smile with Brenda.
"Well, I could do without all of those detentions," he said in wistful intonation.
"Not getting suspended for fighting with Chuckie?" asked Brandon.
"Are you kidding me? That was one of the greatest moments of my life," Steve responded, his chest puffing out with overflowing pride.
Kelly arched a perfectly lined eyebrow.
"Not the suspension part," he rushed to add, "the fighting with Chuckie part."
"Not Laura?" she asked.
"I would one hundred percent eliminate everything Laura," he said with an apologetic nod to Brenda, "everything."
Her lips parted in a silent phrase of gratitude, mostly that their painful tiff in university went the way of lost socks in the laundry and no longer carried any weight with either.
For, despite Steve's harsh words in her first and only year at California University and her own chastisement in reply, he became the one constant in her life when everyone without a biological attachment seemed to forget Brenda Walsh existed.
"Bren leaving?" asked Donna, reaching under the table to squeeze her hand.
"You know I'd change that in a heartbeat," Steve said, flicking a chip at Brenda.
Fry, she mentally edited her own observation, French fry.
Fry schmy. That was a damn chip, she argued.
"As would I," said Brandon, echoed by the two women respectively sitting on and near him.
"So would we," replied the Silvers in unison.
"Goes without saying," said Dylan in a low murmur, intensely eyeing Brenda whilst he swiped a spoonful of potato salad from her plate.
"So you would alter several things in that decade," Andrea pointed out, examining Steve.
"You guys are missing the point," he said, "the first part of the decade brought me all of you, the second half brought me Clare and even though she broke up with me for her dad - that sounds wrong, but you know what I mean - the last of it gave me my daughter. So despite the awful crap, everything that happened to Kelly, the twins' departure and all the stuff Dylan went through - sorry, bro - I still wouldn't turn back the clock to make anything different. If you want to, be my guest, but don't let it affect anything that happened to me."
"Sanders, you're being sentimental again," Dylan said, cracking his knuckles.
"I guess Brenda Walsh brings that out in me," Steve replied cheerfully.
"Life brings that out in you," she countered, though the accolade carried with it the kind of joy that could ordinarily only be found on the stage or in a bowl of butter pecan ice-cream.
"We just kind of think it's our fault you left, Bren," said Donna in a rueful tone.
David combed through Donna's hair, dropping his arms to intertwine them across her chest.
"Not think," said Kelly, "know. We know it's our fault."
Alarmed hazel eyes connected with piercing blue for a second round of the Minnesota Twins' private correspondence.
"You ladies are giving yourself too much credit," said Brandon after Andrea broke them out of their reverie, "Bren left twice, remember? If it hadn't been London, she might've stayed in Minnesota and she'd be gone either way."
"Thrice, if we count Paris," said Dylan.
She stiffened.
"But we don't have to," he hastily added, noticing her sudden tension.
"My sister was never meant to stay here. She was always destined for more."
"Kel, can you shut up my dear brother before he turns into an oracle?"
"With pleasure, Bren," said Kelly, laying a lingering smooch to Brandon's forehead that trailed down to his lips.
"Kind of wish I'd gone to Yale with Jordan Bonner," said Andrea sadly, "but then I wouldn't have Hannah."
"Jordan Bonner," echoed Brandon, eyes filling with the haze of fond memory, "now there's a guy who really did something with his life."
"He did, didn't he?" she smiled.
"What did he do?" asked Brenda, attempting to understand their unspoken approval.
"Went into the federal government," Brandon said.
"And won the Senate race," Andrea added.
"Did he?" Brandon marveled.
Her eyes twinkled.
"Good for Jordan Bonner," replied Brenda with a grin.
"Wish I never cheated on Donna," mumbled David.
"So do I, but you've never strayed since and that's the important thing," said his wife as she kissed his hair.
"And it did give you some nice action with Val," said Steve.
"Steve!" admonished Donna, sending a visual dagger that Brenda decided would unquestionably force a Shakespearean villain into hiding.
"What? It did!"
David leaned over to pinch his arm.
"Wish I -" Dylan began, then abruptly stopped. "What is this, a birthday cake?" he mocked. "Gonna summon a genie?"
"Well," said Brandon, "at least we can rectify one of those moronic mistakes when I marry Kelly."
"And Bren will be there this time. Won't you, Bren?" she asked, unsung hope spilling over.
"A monsoon couldn't stop me," Brenda replied.
Kelly beamed and continued to do so even through Dylan's matching expression.
"What about Sammy?" asked Steve, noting the largest factor in their obstacle course.
"I told Brandon about Sammy when we took him home from Vandenberg," Kelly replied.
Brenda glanced at Dylan, who again linked his gaze.
"Yes, and then I met him. What a terrific kid," Brandon smiled, placing a kiss on the hand of his future wife.
"Who you'll play stepdad to," Steve added.
"Can't wait," said Brandon with a peck to Kelly's forehead.
She closed her eyes and emitted a contented sigh.
"Emma," said Donna, rocking against David.
"Emma who?" Brandon asked, genuinely befuddled.
Eyes snapping back open, Kelly's features turned smug.
"Then that just leaves Dylan," said Brenda, naming the last box on the checklist.
"Leaves Dylan to do what?" asked the subject of her statement.
"Leaves Dylan as a potential obstacle," she replied, although the admittance invoked a searing pain.
"Oh, that isn't an issue," said Kelly, her response coated in confidence.
"Yeah, no worries here, man," Dylan assured Brandon, raising an imaginary white flag.
"Long, long over," Kelly said as she played with the hair of her thrice-fiancé.
"So over, it couldn't be more over," agreed Dylan, stretching out his arm towards Brenda.
"Besides, Dylan is in love with -"
This time, David placed his own hand over Donna's mouth to silence the confession which belonged to another.
"In love with whom?" asked Brenda, curiously peering around the group.
"In love with the ocean," Andrea answered, thinking quickly.
"Oh yeah, you know Dylan. Always in love with the ocean," said Donna through her husband's hand.
"Well, nothing like catching a killer wave," Dylan agreed, squeezing Brenda's shoulders.
"Dylan's affection for the ocean is hardly a secret," Brenda noted, awaiting further explanation.
"Horses?" suggested Donna.
"Mexico," added David.
Brenda attempted to piece together what the ocean, horses and Mexico symbolized in Dylan's current relationship. She wondered why everyone felt the need for secrecy, including Dylan himself.
Perhaps she knew his girlfriend, Brenda decided, possibly from their days at West Beverly.
"Is Dylan dating Sherice Ashe?" she asked.
"Sherice?" Kelly said in shock, "now that brings me back."
"I'm not dating Sherice Ashe," said an equally startled Dylan, "I just happen to love the ocean, horseback riding and Mexico."
"That sounds like a singles ad," Steve chuckled, squirting extra ketchup onto his burger.
"Well, I do enjoy a good long walk on the beach," Dylan replied, his lips turning upward in a dorky grin.
"Whatever happened to Robinson Ashe III, anyway?" asked Brenda, the thought of the famous Ashe family driving away a puzzling desire to decipher which woman now clenched the heart of Dylan McKay.
"Photographer for National Geographic," said Brandon, catching a surprised look from his friends. "I ran into him a few times on assignment," he explained, "and his wife is sure something."
Kelly stared him down.
"Aw, c'mon, Kel. You've met her, too," he defended.
"Yeah, she's brilliant," Kelly allowed after a moment's pause.
"Then Robinson was clearly destined for greatness," Brenda smiled, remembering the enthusiastic adolescent with a camera permanently attached to his hand and a pantry that boasted an endless selection of the city's best popcorn.
"Now who's being sibylline?" Brandon asked as he played with Kelly's ear.
"This isn't oracular, Brandon; it was obvious from the beginning. And I think Dylan and Sherice would look good together," she continued, mainly to witness Dylan's reaction.
"Oh look, there's Nat!" he said, pointing towards the door.
Graying though he may be with layer upon layer of wrinkles, Nat Bussichio's beaming grin remained unaged.
"Why, if it isn't Brenda Walsh!" he said in a jovial voice that could easily defeat Santa Clause in the superlative battle for cheeriest.
He approached their table.
"My eyes aren't what they used to be, kiddos, but I'd recognize Miss Brenda Walsh anywhere. The staff still tells me customers come in to ask about what Laverne is doing. We just say she's dazzling the London stage."
Brenda stood and dove into waiting arms that greeted her in the way of a favorite childhood teddy bear.
"How the hell are ya, kid?" asked Brandon's former employer and the gang's longtime surrogate uncle as he planted a quick kiss on her cheek.
"Keeping well, Nat," she admitted, "much better than I thought I would when I agreed to come over here."
"I expect you didn't have much of a choice," he said, patting her shoulder knowingly.
"Not when this weirdo over here decided he was done hiding."
"Who are you calling a weirdo?" asked Brandon, appearing by her side to embrace their family friend.
"Why, you, of course. There are much easier ways to be the center of attention, Brandon."
"You'd know all about that, wouldn't you, Bren?"
"Well, Brandon, it is my job."
Though to an outsider, their conversation would be perceived as a nasty quarrel, both twins' eyes shone in elation.
"You're still working here, Nat?" asked Brenda.
"Not exactly," he replied, wrapping his arms around the Walsh kids as he walked them back over to the group.
"Nat's more like a silent partner," Dylan said, stretching out his legs and crossing his sneakers.
"A very vocal silent partner," Steve said, grinning at the older man.
"Wait, are you two -"
"In business together?" Dylan finished her thought, "Well, kinda."
"Kinda?"
"It's like this, Bren. See, we all have ownership of the Pit."
"What do you mean by all, Steve?"
"He means all of us own a part of the Peach Pit," Kelly explained, "and yes, Bren, that includes you."
She looked at Nat, shocked.
"I own part of this diner?"
"After three and a half strokes, Brenda, I had to put something in the will. I can honestly say no customer, not even Steve McQueen or Marlon Brando, has ever loved this place or given it as much business as you kids. It's gone around the group a few times," he caught Dylan's sheepish eye, "so it's only fitting that you all have it."
"Now wait a minute, you never mentioned Marlon Brando," said Brandon and Dylan in unison.
They grinned at each other.
"Oh yeah, Brando was a regular. Sat right over there," Nat said, gesturing to an empty stool.
"I thought that was McQueen's spot," Brandon said.
"That was two stools over, Brandon," he said, "keep up."
"How can a person have three and a half strokes?" Brenda asked in concern.
"Easy. The half turned out to be a bad case of heartburn," Nat laughed. "Now sit down, sit down. I'll get dessert."
Dylan reached out and tugged at Brenda's arm, pulling her down in a way that nearly resulted in a tumble onto his lap.
"Just friends," Steve said while she quickly shifted to her empty spot, "right. Okay, who wants to take a bet on how long these two will stay friends?"
"Steve!" she said.
"I'll get in on that."
"Brandon!"
"I give it a year."
"Kel!"
"More like six months, three minimum."
"David! Not you, too. Dylan, do something before they get Donna and Andrea to join in on this ridiculous bet. Brandon shouldn't even be agreeing to one."
"I'll volunteer limitless babysitting duties to anyone who does not co-sign this bet," he said, resting a hand on Brenda's leg.
"I'm out," David said.
"Me too," sighed Steve.
"Then I guess we're both out, since there's no one to hand over the money," Brandon said, to which Kelly reluctantly agreed.
"Your first mistake was announcing a bet in front of them," David said while exercising his elbows. "We should've done it behind their backs."
"Not helpful, Silver," said Dylan, tossing the earlier paper wad.
Brandon's confiscated makeshift ball bounced off of David's forehead and on to the floor.
Brenda turned to mouth a silent thank you and detected something unspoken in his gaze.
Unspoken and familiar, uncomfortably familiar.
Before she could dwell on the meaning or rid herself of its ensuing goosebumps, Nat placed a fresh peach pie on the table. The gang dove in, laughing and joking with each other as Brenda tasted the decadent dessert for the first time in over a decade.
Perhaps Steve's theory wasn't too far from the truth.
xx
Crystal - Thank you! I have a difficult time picturing DK as any kind of soulmate, to be honest, especially watching their scenes and constant apologies. Dylan's platonic soulmate would undoubtedly be Brandon. DK was an awful relationship for both Dylan and Kelly and I'll never understand how anyone could think differently, but everyone is entitled to an opinion.
Guest001 - It was irritating enough to watch, can't imagine how Luke felt at the time! Grateful he pressed on and continued speaking. Thank you for the information on Larry. I've noticed the same and like him quite a bit. It was tough letting the readers think Sammy might be Dylan's; that was one of the worst stories in the sequel for me and is saying a lot because there were a substantial number of terrible stories in the reboot. Glad you liked the plot twist!
Thank you also to Guest, Brendamckay61 and brankel1 for continuing to read and enjoy. I've become more involved in this story than I ever planned on and am grateful beyond expression for the readership.