Authors Note: I own nothing. No ownership rights to Beverly Hills 90210.
Chapter Fifteen
Crap! Shit! Fuck! Okay maybe this was the third.
My doctor was adamant that I stay off the ankle for three day's. I could shower with a bloody chair or have a bath but I was to limit movement completely if I wanted the swelling to go down and for him to sign the insurance papers to say I could be on set next week. He also wanted it strapped at different intervals during the day to support the ankle and reduce the swelling. It was that which was causing me the biggest hassle. I couldn't strap it myself and so it was either a nurse or someone else.
Casa Walsh was the better of two evils, not logistically logistically there was a Beverly Hills bungalow that would tick all my doctors requirements but the emotional crazy that went along with that would be more frustrating than the lack of mobility. I had thought to ask Brandon to stay with me but in either house I'd need to sleep on the couch or have someone carry me upstairs which I could handle but it was the kitchen situation that sealed the deal. I could at least cook at Casa Walsh. Use the peninsula to prep and then move the stool to the stove- it would give me a level of independence. Roy and my kitchen was a chef's kitchen too large to hop around and it only had a breakfast table in the corner no stools. I'd be stuck in our house forced to rely completely on Brandon for support for showering to food- yeah fuck that.
I should have known that the two of them would be in contact. They had obviously got past the distance that was present between them at the wrap party and the tension at the failed lunch because when I called my brother at ten am to ask if I could crash on his couch he wasn't surprised at all. He offered to immediately come collect me, and considering I needed help to pack and get downstairs I was forced to take him up on that. By the time he was pulling us into my old house I was well and truly over the damsel in distress character I had been forced to play. I hated it, it wasn't and has never been me.
"Should I bother asking why his car is here?"
"Steve and Val had a full day of classes and since I was with you I asked him to get the house set up."
"Brandon it's a blanket and pillow on a couch."
"Well yeah it could be but I thought you may like my room, my new one, our parents old one."
I give him a kind look, he was trying. "Thank you but I'd prefer the couch."
"Yeah he said you'd want that but I thought I'd ask. You know it's set up for you so it's no trouble-"
"Being in the house will be weird enough I don't think I need the additional memories of their room or seeing where Dad's chair used to be."
"Have they reached out at all?" He says it so casually as he gets out of the car and begins to move around to my side grabbing my crutches on the way as if it wouldn't be a big deal.
"Why would…" As I look up at him from my seat I can see the nervousness in his eyes, "you told them?"
He opens the door and begins to help me out, "Jackie did and well they asked me for details." As I begin to move up the front path I hear the car door shut and then feel him hover behind. "I'm sor-"
"Not your fault. Kelly doesn't exactly know what's going on between our parents and me."
As he helps me up the two steps he gives me a curious look, "we talk we are friendly. She confides in me and I respect that, I respect with the fire and the weirdass psycho cult teacher that she's been through a lot. It's not even though."
"You don't confide in her?"
"What's to confide my life is an open book?" As I'm saying it I hear the door swing open.
"Hoppy you aren't that good of an actress for either of us to believe that." I turn and look at him with a raised eyebrow, he concedes a little under my glare. "Yeah okay Steve you'd convince, Kelly definitely… fine you'd get Donna and David to." I tilt my head just slightly, "okay with that look you'd get Andrea as well." When I see he isn't willing to budge anymore I give him a disbelieving look- mock outrage for daring to question my acting talent. "Come on you can try and prove me wrong from the couch. You should be off your foot."
I comply because he's right and let Brandon help me in while Dylan insists on getting my bags from the car. Once I'm settled and my ankle is elevated I notice the time. As I curse up a storm in my head I take a moment to compose my exterior. It's not either of their faults I'm injured, and it's not either of their faults that I don't like asking for help- okay maybe they are partially to blame for the help issue. "Brandon would you mind taking the compression bandage off my ankle? It needs to be off for two hours and then on for another four after that."
He gives me a smile and comes over and begins to unwrap the flesh coloured material, "do you need ice on it?"
I turn to Dylan, "no not right now. If it swells up too much with the compression off it then yeah. Would you mind though passing my bag?"
He quickly does and I reach inside for my prescription, I dryly swallow the tablet down. "Do you need water?" I shake my head but he turns anyway and goes into the kitchen bringing me back a bottle of water. "No pressure Hoppy but you know just in case you get thirsty or the tablet gets stuck." From his tone I can tell he finds my hesitation to accept help frustrating. Hey I asked for my bag that was a step.
"Bren this thing is wrapped up like a weird pass the parcel, how the hell am I supposed to put it back on?"
"If it's too hard I can-" I'm stopped by Dylan's glare and Brandon's pleading look, "I'll talk you through it."
"Thank you." He gently puts my ankle back down on the pillow that's resting on the coffee table.
"B, I stocked the fridge because I couldn't see Bren living on beer and leftover pizza."
"Hey there was cold cuts and lettuce as well."
Dylan gives my brother an amused look, "Bren you mentioned last night that you are on a restrictive diet so I just got a range of fruit, vegetables, fish, chicken and steak."
"So you bought the whole grocery store?"
He gets the bashful look that I use to love so much, "well half of the organic Italian grocery store that Iris loves-"
"The one in Brentwood?" He nod's, "that place is great I've been mainly shopping there since we arrived."
"I know I got a little lost when there, and well I mentioned I was shopping for a friend on crutches who is on a specialised diet. You've made an impression there cause Mark the owner instantly said you mean Brenda and then personally helped me do the rest of the shopping, he swore to me that I got your favourites. Though I have no idea what you are going to do with four different kinds of mushrooms and the jar of capers he insisted you needed."
"Do you get lemons as well?"
"Yeah."
"His homemade chicken stock?"
"If it's in a plastic tub then yes."
"Butter? His good unsalted butter."
"Sis, have you become a foodie in your time in London?" Brandon is clearly amused by my enthusiasm for the good ingredients. I've been limited to what and when I can cook for over a week and a half now I miss it.
"Roy and I host a lot of dinner parties and so when I travel I try and do a cooking class in each city I stay in; I cook a lot of French, Spanish, Croatian and Italian food because of it." I look back at Dylan, "so did you get the butter?"
He smiles with a bit of pride shining through. He knows he's made me happy, "maybe, it depends, do I get to eat whatever you're mind is coming up with?"
"Hey if he gets to eat I am too."
"I'll need a stool by the stove and one for my ankle, and maybe some help taking the stuff out of the fridge but if Dylan got everything I think he did how does Chicken Piccata sound for a late lunch?"
When I cook I listen to music, all different types. It was my way of relaxing completely in the moment, focusing just on the enjoyable task at hand. After getting me set up and following my directions to the letter I kicked them out of the kitchen space to let me work. It was as they were sitting at the kitchen table doing nothing but their best impressions of stalkers staring at me did I insist on some loud music. After quickly vetoing the collection of my brother's I asked my twin to grab my cd case in my overnight bag, Jagged Little Pill becomes my lunchtime soundtrack.
It quickly becomes obvious to me how I can make it through these three day's… music. If it's blaring then no one can talk to me about past shit that should be left there.
When I declared it was ready Brandon turns down the music, "silence from the angry chick music- thank god!"
Hobbling over to the table on both crutches thanks to a death glare Dylan gave me when I attempted to move to the kitchen with only one, I hit back at my twin. "Brandon that is like the number one album everywhere. Seriously, you need to expand past Baby Face."
As he is putting the plates down and Dylan is getting the cutlery he attempts to defend himself, "hey I like other stuff and good stuff at that."
"Okay we are at the halfway point of the decade so give me your top ten albums so far of the 90s- go?"
Lunch is then spent arguing over the top ten, with a rather heated discussion on why Nevermind by Nirvana never played on the West Bev campus. It was when Dylan agreed that it was essential listening and that he to owned the CD did we force Brandon to sit through the whole album in one sitting. My preppy brother struggled through some of it but by the time he was wrapping my ankle up again he was begrudgingly accepting that our West Bev music education was severely lacking.
Steve comes in when I have got Brandon and Dylan joining me in my daily Live Aid hit; well watching and arguing over if we would have gone to Wembley or Philadelphia if we could. After greeting me he excuses himself to grab a snack.
It takes them four seconds to realise what he said and both run out of the room. The yelling from the kitchen for Steve to put the leftover chicken down is loud with Dylan claiming ownership of the leftovers as he did the shopping and Brandon claiming it because it was his other half who made it. Steve somehow slips past them and runs into the lounge room with the other two hot on his heels. He's holding the container of leftovers above their heads- his height giving him an advantage over both of them.
"Brenda can I eat the chicken please? These two are being selfish and won't share."
"Steve of course-"
"Brenda!" "Baby come on."
My eyes are like superglue on my twin as I refuse to acknowledge my ex's slip. "I'm going to cook more food you do know that right? Like in a few hours I'll make dinner."
"But the chicken was amazing-"
"Well twin hopefully you like what I cook tonight as well. Seriously, you'd think after living with Cindy and working at The Pit you would have learned some kitchen skills so that chicken wouldn't be such a hot commodity."
"I have kitchen skills but not even Mum cooks like that-" Steve who had run out of the room at my of course comes back in with his warm Tupperware container and with his mouth chewing on a piece of chicken. He looks fearful like he needs to eat it before they steal it away from him.
"Brenda will you marry me?" I laugh, Brandon sighs at his roommates ridiculous question, and Dylan well I don't see because I'm still refusing to look at him but I feel him instantly move closer to me like he's now standing guard.
"I'm glad you like the chicken Steve."
"It's amazing, so what are you making me for dinner tonight future wife?" It would be charming if he wasn't talking with his mouth full of chicken.
"Hell no! If he gets to eat your cooking then I do to." At that I finally turn to my ex, who almost winces at the look I give him. "Well as long as it's okay with you, I can help you in the kitchen and you can make a list of the things I forgot to get today from Mark…"
Brandon take's pity on him, "come on sis I thought we were all in for the long haul of watching these Live Aid videos you know because my musical taste has been stunted and all?"
I don't want to argue or make it all uncomfortable, especially as it's not my house, and apart for the slip he just made he's be careful to avoid landslides all afternoon. "Yeah okay-"
Steve comes bouncing down next to me earning a glare from both Brandon and Dylan for not being careful with me. "Great so what are you cooking us for dinner then wife?"
We spent the whole afternoon watching Live Aid, laughing at the clothes with me being especially laughed at when Simple Minds performed their Breakfast Club hit which led to a discussion about my Judd Nelson jacket. Bren for the most part didn't contribute to the teasing as it was a jacket I wrapped her in on our first date trying to stop her from leaving me, it was why I still owned it.
As she cooked dinner Queen played throughout the house, with me and the rest observing from the breakfast table. In so many way's she was so different from the girl I fell in love with at sixteen. She had a career that she was excelling in, had traveled and from those travels learnt new skills- her cooking was out of this world, and if her eclectic music taste was anything to go off she had continued to try new things to see what she liked. And she did it all while healing herself from the scars we caused her here.
I could see she was even stronger now, she knew who she was and she knew her value, and she wasn't going to lessen herself just to fit in. She also wasn't going to take on the responsibility of guiding us to catch up, and after a few hours of not rehashing our past or our pains it was obvious that we Brandon, Steve, Val- when she joined us after class, and I, had all become stuck in the Beverly Hills cycle. We weren't pushing to be extraordinary, to be our best selves, to learn new things.
I hated that cycle, avoided it all my life. When Brandon met me I had acquaintances but no friends here. I traveled the world, disappeared away for weekends to very unbeverly hills places. I had groups of people I hung out with all over the city, from all walks of life. My books pushed me to expand my idea's and perceptions of this world, I wanted to see that in living colour so I did, but then it just stopped. I became Beverly Hills- just like Brandon did, and Steve had always been, like Val had transformed into in less than a year just to fit in here. We insulated ourselves in our group, our world, our drama's. We lived on top of each other which exasperated the latter.
My books became my only place for my mind to adventure as I stopped trying to find the colours in my own life. As my world became less, the man she fell in love with became less; she had become more. Watching her sing along to Queen while commanding the kitchen from a stool it was obvious she was larger than life, she filled the space. I remember when I saw her for the first time I was struck with how she captured my everything. In that instant everyone in that hallway became shadowy blobs moving around my peripheral, she was the only one with any definition she was the only one that I could see in detail.
In the four years she lived here I know I wasn't the only one who she captivated by just walking into a room. She owned every room she stepped in. When she entered it was impossible to not take note. It was why looking back I think she had such a difficult time here, why everything became an attack on her. For anyone else to get any airtime to get the attention, they didn't strive to be better become their own person to find their own light, no they just strived to steal hers they tried to make her less.
London, Roy, and Dr Howard had been able to cut those shackles away from her, the one's that had been placed by everyone here to stunt her growth to try and take what was rightfully hers away. Sitting here I can see her fill a whole room like never before, to see that energy that had always drawn people to her shine brighter than I have ever thought possible. For weeks she's been playing the character of Brenda around us never showing us her real self. She hasn't wanted us to see the hurt we caused her but in doing that she also hasn't shown us how bright she has become.
Brandon next to me leans a little closer, "D try and reign in your desire for my sister otherwise I won't be helping you get anymore meal invites." Okay so obviously I wasn't being subtle in my worshiping.
Steve on hearing B's warning much to my annoyance jumps in, "Brandon you can't blame him I'm falling in love with her-"
"Yeah I'd do her and I don't even go that way."
Bran looked ready to storm out of the room to escape the instant imagine of his honorary sister and his actual sister in such a way, it was unavoidable image after Val's comment. Steve was dumbstruck by the thought and you could see he was instantly lost in his mind, stuck trying to picture every detail. I didn't need to work so hard having an intimate knowledge of both of them.
"Val don't even think it."
"What McKay, scared of the competition when she see's my skills?" I'm not nearly as good at hiding my expression as my woman is and Val immediately gets a cheshire grin knowing that she hit the bullseye she was aiming for by making me jealous.
As I move away from the table I hear Steve ask her to tell him more about these skills- I imagine so he can dive back into the fantasy she has stirred in his mind. There is no way any of them are getting close to her, I'm going to be her own personal guard from now on.
"Hoppy do you need any help?"
She looks up from the pan she is continuing to stir and smiles when she sees me inhaling the air like a man who has been released from a cave trapped without oxygen for too long. Whatever she is cooking smells divine. "The five of us won't fit at the kitchen table so would you mind setting the dining room table for me, this is nearly ready?"
"Yeah I can do that." Once I've set the table I go back in and start washing the pots and pans she has finished with. I ask her about cooking trying to find out what she loves to make and what she doesn't. It's my small attempt to once again know everything about her. To learn her all over again, a process that if she lets me I know I'll be doing for life. Bren is clearly going to forever be changing and keeping me on my toes, and because of that I know she'd never be happy with me being in the Beverly Hills cycle. A place my fear has trapped me whilst keeping me desperately unhappy.
Dinner goes well. Bren doesn't engage much in direct conversation with Val but she maintains a comfortable group conversation that everyone is included in. It centre's around music, movies, tv show's- which makes us all laugh when we discuss which Friend you most identify with. Steve thinks he is a Joey but we all lose it and say with his track record of striking out he is definitely a Chandler. When we get into Brandon needing to cover the Rose Court tryouts the next day for the paper, and the idea around beauty pageants Val informs us that Kelly, Donna and Clare are all trying out. Bren's shocked by Clare wanting to do that as she doesn't seem the type to gain a platform even a platform for good by needing to use her looks over her brains.
Brandon tries to argue the merits of the competition and within minutes his sister is calling out his bullshit, he eventually admits Susan is anti-Rose Court so he feels that he needs to be the counter. She laughs out loud, "Brandon is she your new Andrea?"
"No. She's just so anti-establishment, and male, I think it's narrow minded."
"So twin your way of combating that is to be hyper masculine and tell her a female that her opinion is wrong; a female who like the rest of us has been judged by her looks all her life. You are going to advise her that a glorified beauty pageant that has no male equivalent is not sexist and does not sexualise females at all. Wow, I'm sure she will absolutely appreciate you broadening her mind with that argument." Fuck she was amazing, "brother by the way do you still have that calendar you posed for in freshman year? You know the charity one where you needed to wear multiple layers and still felt uncomfortable with everyone just staring at you judging you based on your image alone, it would be great to see the finished product as I never did."
"Ouch Brandon, your sister just knocked you down cold."
Brandon to his credit looks at Steve then back at his sister, "yeah she just did." He's quiet for a moment then looks at her with that remorseful face that was so familiar in sophomore year, gradually became less common in junior year, and was completely lost by senior year. "I'm letting my ego take over aren't I?"
She holds her fingers up close together and kindly tells him, "just a bit."