It seemed hours since she had launched herself to the tile and hunched over.
In reality, she knew it hadn't quite been two.
The cool porcelain acted as a salve unto her sweat-laden forehead.
She groaned, leaning her back against the bathtub.
"You're taking way too much pleasure in this," she said.
"Sorry." The flicker of a smile appeared upon Dylan's lips in a contradiction of his apology as he pushed Brenda's hair over her shoulder and dabbed a wet washcloth over her neck. "It's just; I thought I missed this part."
"I wish you had missed this part." Brenda sat unsure whether to continue clinging to the toilet or whether to cling to the fabric draped upon Dylan.
"Not saying I wanted your morning sickness to return, but gotta say, babe, there is something about holding your girl's hair back as she -"
"- pukes my guts out over your kid," Brenda finished. "So romantic."
"Call it returning a favor after the way you took care of me when I had the flu."
"Yeah, but you somehow still looked -"
Brenda stopped and shook out what she had intended to say.
"Somehow still looked," Dylan pressed.
"Well…not like this." Brenda waved her hand towards herself to prevent from telling Dylan how frustratingly attractive he had managed to appear even whilst battling the flu.
"All I see is beauty," said Dylan. "Are you saying I also looked beautiful?"
"Okay, there's no way I look even close to beautiful right now," said Brenda.
"You always look beautiful," said Dylan. "But might be time for you to start cutting back on the tea."
"I was afraid you'd say that."
"Our OB did warn it might be something to consider."
"I know, but tea's helped me so much. I'm not ready to let go."
"Not telling you to let go. Just maybe cut back for the rest of this." Dylan reached down for Brenda's hands and helped her to her feet. "I can draw you a cold bath," he suggested, sliding his hand across her stomach that grew more weighted by the day. "Would that help?"
"Tremendously," Brenda nodded.
"Should I cancel on Luca?"
"Oh, I'm not cancelling on Luca. Not after all those times he was called away by emergency patients."
"That's life as a doctor's wife, Bren."
"It's one dinner date, Dyl."
"Idunno. If he cancels once, then twice, and then thrice, I'd ditch him. But that's just me."
"I could always invite you to double-date with us."
Brenda chortled at Dylan's slack-jawed response.
"I'm kidding, babes," she said.
"That's not the kind of thing you kid about," he said.
Rolling up his sleeves, Dylan ran the bathtub and dipped his hand into the filling water.
"How cold do you want it?" he asked, swishing his hand around.
"Swimming pool cold."
"I could just take you to a swimming pool," he suggested.
"I'd have to walk for that," she pointed out, "and I'd rather not walk right now."
"You'll have to walk for dinner, too."
"I still have hours yet."
"I'll make sure our next backyard has a pool."
"Do they have pools in Italy?"
"Of course they have," Dylan hesitated, "ah, y'know; I'll check that out."
Brenda didn't bother to discard her clothing before sinking into the inviting water.
She noticed the way Dylan forced himself to not focus on her soaked lingerie as he asked if he should leave.
She told herself it was a hormone imbalance that caused her to urge him to stay.
"You might as well climb in," she said. "We can practice."
"Don't think your boyfriend would like that much."
"Why not? We share a bed. How's that different than sharing a tub? Unless you've changed your mind about holding me while I'm in labor. Or about sharing a bed."
"No. Uh," Dylan cleared his throat with an awkward chuckle, "haven't changed my mind. But now's not the best time for us to share a bath."
"Even if we're practicing for the real thing?"
"Even if we're practicing for the real thing."
"Okay," she said, "suit yourself."
Closing her eyes, Brenda lay her head back against the edge of the tub.
Within seconds, her eyes snapped open.
Shampoo felt nice against her scalp.
Nicer still were Dylan's fingers, massaging shampoo into her scalp.
"Thought you weren't joining me," said Brenda.
"Luckily for me, the placement of our tub lets me squat behind it so I can wash my girl's hair," said Dylan.
Brenda considered that she may have become entirely too used to Dylan's endearment when she made no move to dispute the title.
It was difficult to avoid dwelling on how his hands felt against her skin, or how much she desired for a greater contact between their bodies.
She had been warned pregnancy would magnify her sexual desire, which hadn't been an issue until that week.
The light touch of Dylan's lips against the nape of her neck sent Brenda into a tailspin.
She wondered if a man's kiss in general would send her into a tailspin.
"You should consider opening a salon," said Brenda in an attempt to distract herself from her myriad of conflicting emotions.
"For my one customer?" Dylan began massaging her shoulders.
"Oh please. You'd have no end of attractive customers."
"Then it's better if I keep my salon skills between us."
Dylan rinsed Brenda's hair. Brenda sloshed around to face him.
"You haven't given me an update." Her words were cryptic. She knew Dylan would decode them.
"I only just got one." Dylan rested his hands on Brenda's folded elbows. "Well, you know I was trying to get the hearing pushed back, right?"
Brenda gave a small nod. "You weren't able to?" she asked.
"Almost was, but Jim's lawyers convinced the court it would be in your best interest to bring the hearing forward."
"It's in my best interest to face a court in my last trimester?"
"They just want to ensure Jim gets guardianship before our kid is born, otherwise I can press for my rights."
"Would you try to get custody of her if Jim does win?"
"Bren, no. I would never separate you from our child." Agony whipped through Dylan's eyes and for a brief moment, Brenda felt upset at herself for bringing it up.
"I'd want you to," she said.
"Excuse me?"
"If Jim gets guardianship. I'd want you to get custody. I don't want our daughter raised by a man who has deliberately targeted her father."
"Then it's a good thing he won't on both accounts, because I cannot in good conscience take her from you. Don't ask me to, Bren. Our daughter's going to be raised by both of her parents, and it won't be in Hong Kong."
"But if Jim wins?"
"He won't."
"But if he does? And Bran loses?"
"Bran won't lose."
"He might."
"Not on my watch."
It seemed pointless to argue further. To prepare herself, Brenda inquired about the date of the hearing. Dylan informed her that it had been set for the end of the month.
"I have to fly out to the US at the end of the month?" asked Brenda. "Does he want me to give birth on a fucking plane?"
"That's the one bright side," said Dylan. "We won't be flying out to the US. I managed to get a hearing set in Helsinki. It's unusual, but…"
"But money," said Brenda.
Dylan offered her a coy smile.
"But money," he said. "Money and your doctors stressing that a transatlantic flight at this stage could be detrimental to your health, and the health of our kid. Even Jim's lawyers couldn't argue against that."
"Maybe your money isn't so bad," said Brenda.
"Would've been better if my money could've stopped this damn case in its tracks before it picked up speed," said Dylan. "I'm sorry I'm going to have to pull out all the stops to win this. I don't know what kind of dirt my lawyers will dig up, though I doubt it's half the kind of dirt Jim has on me. And once word gets out that a McKay's in a lawsuit, our world's gonna be infiltrated by paps. The last thing you need are screaming LA tabloid reporters looking for their next scoop. I'm doing my best to keep it internal."
Brenda said Jim didn't have dirt to dig up. Dylan reminded her of his addictions. Brenda said all he had to do was tell the court of his AA and NA meetings. Dylan said if only it were that simple.
"I'm sorry this is happening at all," said Brenda, infuriated that Jim had managed to make Dylan feel inadequate. "Maybe if I hadn't been so pissed off with him when he came here -"
"Okay, what you're not gonna do is blame yourself for Jim's shitty decisions."
"Dylan, can you honestly tell me his treatment of you has nothing to do with the relationship that used to exist between you and I?"
"Jim's biggest problem lies with who my father was, Bren. He knows it. I know it. It doesn't help any that Jim's seen me at my worst, too."
"He shouldn't punish you for what your father did."
"Jim's trying to protect his girls. I get that. I'm doing the same."
"He doesn't need to protect us from you. And I don't like that he doesn't trust Brandon or Val to care for me. This fucking lawsuit involves them, too. He's putting all of you through the wringer, and it's because of me."
"Don't think of it like that. Just think of it as all the people who love you."
It seemed to Brenda that her father could not possibly possess any kind of love for her if he insisted on pursuing control over her life and inflicting pain upon her Dylan's.
Except Dylan wasn't hers, Brenda chided herself.
She thought it might be helpful to gain perspectives from others about the complexity of fatherhood. Brenda brought it up in therapy, where Alina suggested Brenda ask her friends.
But Brenda didn't know who to ask.
Brandon had become at odds with theirs. Dylan's was a tough topic for him. Clare had a great relationship with hers. Valerie clammed up at any mention. Kelly said her father had been imprisoned, and then would say no more.
"I don't know who else to ask," said Brenda. "David and Donna seem to have good relationships with their dads."
"David's and Mel's relationship isn't perfect, but he did luck out more than the rest of us. You know who you should talk to?" said Kelly.
"Who?" asked Brenda.
"Most of us either love or hate our dads, or fall somewhere in-between, largely because they've consistently disappointed us or are straight-up garbage. But one of us in particular has been made to feel like they're the disappointment, over and over again."
Brenda wasted no time in tracking down the person Kelly had hinted at.
It helped that he was in her home, squatting as he added a layer of fresh paint to the nursery wall.
"Steve," asked Brenda, "do you see yourself as a dad?"
Steve blanched. "Have you been talking to your brother?" he asked.
"Well yeah, but not about you," said Brenda. "Why? Does he know something?"
"There's nothing to know," said Steve. He looked up at her. "Should you be standing there while I'm painting? I always heard paint fumes were bad for pregnant chicks. I'm bound to get an ass-kicking from your roommates and your brother if you go and pass out on me."
"If I start to feel light-headed, I'll go sit in the other room," said Brenda. "So, do you?" she asked again.
"Can I see myself as a dad?" Steve mulled it over. "Sure, yeah I can." He appeared less certain as he asked, "Can you?"
"I don't know. I'm still getting to know you."
"Right."
"Do you like your dad?" she asked.
"Rush and I have an…intricate dynamic," said Steve.
"In other words, no," Brenda concluded.
"I like him alright…now. Just seems I disappoint him a lot. Seems I disappoint a lot of people."
Brenda furrowed her brow and moved to stand above Steve.
"Bren, paint fumes -" he started.
"You're sad," she said with a tilt of her head.
"I did receive some pretty upsetting news."
"Would you like a hug?" she asked. "When I'm sad, someone always offers me a hug."
Steve shot her a brilliant grin. "I'd love one," he said as he stood.
Brenda tried to embrace Steve with as much force as Valerie usually embraced her. "How's that?" she asked.
"That's perfect," he said. "Should I let go now?"
"Yes, probably. I never know how long I'll last before the fear kicks in and a friend becomes a terrorizer."
"Do you get afraid when Dylan hugs you?" asked Steve as he released her.
Brenda gave a vigorous shake of her head.
"I feel protected when Dylan hugs me," she said. "Like as long as he's nearby, I won't topple off the see-saw."
Steve asked what Brenda meant.
"When the ceiling crashes," said Brenda. "I'm constantly on this see-saw. On one side is me, as I am. On the other side is the person I used to be, or maybe the person I can be again. When something happens that disrupts that balance, it's like this massive glass paperweight was dropped that sends me flying upward, where the ceiling crashes on me. And then everything wobbles around, like I'm walking this thin line over an angry volcano. Do you ever feel like that?"
"You know, I actually do," said Steve, seemingly in awe of Brenda's explanation. "On one side is me; on the other, all the expectations my parents have set for me. Sometimes I meet Mom's, but I never get up to Rush's standards."
"Do you have anyone who helps you stay on the see-saw?"
"Used to be Clare," Steve said with a sigh.
"What happened?"
"We began fighting a lot and then…then she broke up with me and took off to Paris, where…"
Steve wouldn't continue.
"Where?"
"Where I thought she'd stay."
"Dylan and I fought, too," said Brenda, "or at least, he's told me we did. Maybe you and Clare just need to be roommates, like Dylan and I. You might get closer if you share a bed."
"I think you and Dylan are a little more than roommates, Bren."
"For now. He climbs into bed with me because he likes to lay his head on her, but he mostly does it because of the screams."
"Did he tell you that?"
"I didn't ask."
"Did Dylan tell you how long I've known him?"
"No, but Donna said it's been awhile."
"A long while. I've known Dylan since before his parents divorced and when it comes to living long-term with someone, you're the only one he's ever succeeded with."
"Not necessarily. We didn't make it past London."
"If Dylan was in half the state he was when he knocked Donna into the pool, I don't blame you."
Brenda gawked.
Steve winced.
"You didn't know that, did you?" he asked.
"Excuse me," said Brenda.
"Bren; I - I didn't -"
Brenda held up a finger as she dialled.
"Yeah, babe?" asked the voice on the other line.
"Did you knock Donna into a pool?" asked Brenda.
There seemed to be an unending silence. "Did she tell you?" Dylan finally asked.
"Steve did," said Brenda. "Did you apologize to Donna?"
"Yes," said Dylan. "You can ask her. I definitely apologized."
"Tell me you weren't in your right mind."
"I was flying higher than a rocket and had just been arrested for it, but that doesn't excuse -"
"Does Jim know?"
"What?"
"Does Jim know about the time you got high and knocked Donna into a pool?"
"I - I don't think so," Dylan stammered.
"He could use that against you," said Brenda. "We need to make sure he doesn't find out."
"Bren, I swear to you that's the first and last time I'll ever knock anyone into a pool."
A frequent visitor to Dylan's meetings, Brenda was well aware of how arduous Dylan's ongoing fight for his sobriety was.
"You bet your ass it is, or I'll drag you into rehab myself," she said.
"It's a plan." Brenda heard the smile in Dylan's voice. "Steve taking good care of you other than telling you about my worst moments?"
"He said he's going to paint the nursery green and gold and put up a huge logo of the Oakland A's."
Steve frantically waved his hands, splattering paint on the tarp spread over the floor.
Dylan scoffed.
"Steve Sanders is not painting an Oakland A's logo in a McKay nursery," he said.
"Walsh-McKay," said Brenda.
"Hand me over," said Dylan.
Brenda sniggered, watching Steve repeatedly assure Dylan that he had never once considered slapping a logo of Oakland anything on the nursery wall, which Brenda had heard Brandon refer to as the rival of Dylan's preferred baseball team.
Steve lightly glared at Brenda as he returned her mobile.
"David and I are almost done over here," said Dylan. "Want me to bring home dinner for us? I could grab a pizza and we could watch that show you've been wanting to see, maybe make some sundaes."
Brenda nibbled on her bottom lip. "I have that dinner with Luca tonight," she said.
Brenda thought Dylan had hung up.
"Are you still there?" she asked.
"I'm still here." Dylan lacked the lighthearted tone he had carried. "I just thought he might; I mean, Luca didn't cancel?"
"He didn't."
"Then I guess I'll see you after dinner." Dylan had cleverly disguised any inflection in his voice so that Brenda couldn't decipher his reaction, or perhaps lack thereof.
"Do you want me to cancel?" she asked. A part of her did think a night in with Dylan sounded perfect.
Another part, a larger part, worried that Dylan had become too familiar and she had therefore tricked herself into believing a romantic propensity existed between them.
"I want you to enjoy yourself, Bren. Have fun."
"Are you sure you don't want me to cancel?"
"I want you to do whatever you want to do."
"Okay."
"But try to not keep our daughter out too late because I've got plans for the three of us tomorrow. And if at any point you start to feel uncomfortable in any way, make sure you contact one of us."
"What plans?"
"You'll find out tomorrow."
"That's not fair."
"You know that day in the shower?"
"When you stole my razor?"
"Hid your razor. What did I tell you I'd do if you started dating?"
"Take me on a few of our own." Brenda smiled. "Oh. That's what we're doing tomorrow."
"Assuming your boyfriend doesn't mind."
"Would you cancel on me if he did?"
"Not a chance. We gotta go over to Helsinki tomorrow anyway, so I figure we can do something on the drive."
Brenda asked if their trip to Helsinki was in regards to the lawsuit. Dylan told her it was in regards to the audition tape.
He assured Brenda that a sit-down meeting about her audition was a good thing. She inquired about Dylan's own plans for the evening.
"Probably invite the guys over," he said. "Ask Steve if he's up for pizza."
"Steve's always up for pizza," answered Steve, voice muffled in the lip of his beer bottle.
Brenda said her goodbyes and turned to see Steve's laser focus aimed on her.
"What?" she asked.
"I just hope you know what you're doing, Bren," said Steve.
"What do you mean?" asked Brenda.
"Take it from me," he said, "if there's even the smallest chance you're drawn toward Dylan in a way that you think might go beyond friends, beyond sharing a kid, and you still date Luca…Bren, loving two people at once isn't all it's cracked up to be."
"You loved two people at once? Did Clare know?"
"It wasn't Clare," said Steve. "It was my old girlfriend. Celeste. Problem was, I dated her when I was still very much hung up on Kelly."
"Are you hung up on Kelly now?"
"If I was, I wouldn't've agreed to be Brando's best man."
"Oh." Brenda began to twiddle her fingers. "Steve, do you think I love Dylan?"
"I think no one can figure that out but you."
"But you want me with him, don't you?"
"Well, sure, I'd love for my niece to know a life with her parents together, but that's not up to me. So all I'll tell you is that you and Dylan have something most of our group have been searching for since we first saw it between you guys."
"What's that?"
"Can't tell you. You need to realize it yourself." Steve resumed his painting with gingerly drawn brush strokes.
"Steve?"
"Yeah?"
"You've been in love, haven't you?"
Steve once more looked at Brenda. "At least once," he said.
"How did you know when you were?"
"When I wanted my every breath to be exhaled around them, and then captured between their lips as I rocked Clare's world."
"Clare?"
That may have been the first time Brenda saw the mirth in Steve's eyes instantly fade.
"I didn't say Clare."
"You did say Clare."
"Musta misheard."
"I didn't mishear."
"Pretty sure you did mishear."
Wondering if she had indeed misheard, Brenda glanced at her mobile.
"I think I like talking to you, Steve," she said.
"I think I like talking to you too, Bren. And if you ever need a hug from a good friend, you know where to come."
"Dylan says I'm not broken, but if I can't figure out this love business, doesn't that mean I am broken?"
"Everyone has trouble figuring out this love business," said Steve. "McKay's right. You're not broken, just a bit dented."
"Are you helping Dylan and Bran with this lawsuit?"
"I'll help them in whatever way I can. And, Bren, one more thing?"
"Sure."
"In all the years I've known Dylan, I've never known him to open up and confide in anyone the way he's always confided in you and your brother. And I'm guessing he may have told you even more things than he told Brando. But again, you gotta figure this stuff out yourself."
"Like you're figuring out your relationship with Clare?"
"Me and Clare don't have a relationship."
"But you love her, don't you?"
"I don't know."
"Then I guess we're both working through this love business."
"Guess we are."
"Do you think my brother and Kelly belong together?"
"I think Kel's told Brando things she would never dream of telling anyone else."
"So you do think so."
Brenda asked if Steve would help implement a plan she had devised. Steve said he would be glad to.
She smoothed the wrinkles out of her dress as she waited. The tingle of nerves snatched her spine.
She liked Luca. He seemed to like her.
But Steve's warning kept scrolling through her mind.
"Hot date?"
Brenda waved Valerie over. "Luca's taking me to dinner," said Brenda.
"Oh?" asked Val. "Thought for sure he'd cancel again."
"Dylan thought so, too." Brenda eyed her friend. "Are you upset?"
"Upset? No, not at all. Why would I be upset?"
"Because I think you like Luca. Like him like him." Brenda lowered her tone as if they shared a state secret.
"I thought you and everyone else thought I'm in love with David, or something."
"You could like them both. Would you prefer if I was the one to cancel?"
Valerie took a seat, allowing Brenda to rest against her.
"I'm not gonna tell you to cancel. Are you looking for a way out?"
"No, but," Brenda cast her eyes towards the ground, "do you think I'm being stupid?"
"Stupid? No. Supremely confused about what you want or maybe which hunk of a man you're more interested in? Absolutely." Val adjusted Brenda's side ponytail. "But babe, don't stress yourself out over it. The accident, carting around my constantly growing goddaughter who seems to be picking up on her dad's surfing skills, this thing with Jim; if anyone deserves a bit of a break with a mega attractive guy, it's you."
"Dylan doesn't seem jealous."
"Were you hoping he'd be jealous?"
"I don't like jealousy. It's just; how can I know how he feels about me if he's completely fine with me having dinner with Luca?"
"My understanding is that Dylan has told you how he feels. You don't believe him."
"It's not that I don't believe him. I just think him taking care of me and us having this baby together is mixing his feelings all up, too. We spend so much time together now and with the lawsuit; he doesn't have much time or space to think through whether his supposed feelings for me are real."
"Dylan's had plenty of time to think it through."
"Do you think I love him, Val?"
"I think you and Dylan being able to find each other in a crowded room or one of the biggest cities in the world, that says something, but it's not my place to tell you how you do or don't feel."
"Was love this difficult before my brain got hurt?"
"Love is difficult, babe. Period. And loving Dylan McKay? That's the most difficult of all."
"If I love him."
"Yeah. If you love him. Have you considered trying to be alone with him?"
"I have been alone with him."
"Not in the house, or around the area."
"You mean, like going on a trip together?"
"Now, there's an idea."
Brenda tensed when she heard the door, hoping Dylan hadn't arrived home before Luca had knocked.
If she was lucky, their paths wouldn't cross.
There was no knock; rather, the jingle of keys, turn of the knob, and the footsteps belonging to a pair of unfortunate loafers that could only be Brandon's.
Cindy was with him, holding a bag full of purchases.
"Oh my God, these are adorable!" said Val in a surprisingly high-pitched voice. "They almost make me want to have a baby."
Delighted at the idea of Valerie making her an aunt, Brenda looked away from the pile of onesies Cindy had bought to toss a hopeful look at Val.
"I said, almost," said Val. "Don't go getting any ideas."
"She'll need a cousin," said Brenda.
"You heard the woman," Val told Brandon, who appeared as if he had been trapped in a brambly corner.
Brandon told them that Bobby and his wife of a year were trying for children, which temporarily satisfied Brenda.
"Your brother and I spotted a sale on baby clothes while we were out," said Cindy. "Forty percent off! I couldn't resist. You know I love a good sale."
"I also love a good sale," said Brenda. "Maybe I get that from you."
"Maybe you do," said Cindy. She, unlike Brenda's father, had treaded lightly with Brenda.
"Did you decide how long you're staying, Cindy?" asked Brenda. "Dylan said you're in nursing school."
"I've been looking into getting my credits transferred," said Cindy. "I would like to stick around here to help out until my granddaughter is born; if that is acceptable to you, Brenda."
"I don't think Jim would like you being around Dylan for that long," said Brenda, who had remained wary around Cindy.
"Mom filed for separation," said Brandon.
"You filed for separation?" asked Brenda.
"You two are my children," said Cindy. "When you were born, I swore to protect you from anyone who tried to harm you. When Brandon brought Dylan home and you began dating him, Brenda, he became my third child."
Valerie dramatically cleared her throat.
"Fourth child," said Cindy. "Your father is deliberately hurting, and therefore harming, three people I love very much. I will not stand for it. Jim and I have very different ideas about what it means to protect our children."
"Longer," said Brandon.
"Sorry?" asked Cindy.
"You have to warn Brenda if you're going to give big speeches," said Brandon. "It helps her be able to focus."
"Puts less pressure on her brain," said Val.
Brenda aimed her gratitude at both of her siblings.
"Longer," said Cindy, then added, "I told Jim that if he goes through with this lawsuit, I will ensure our permanent separation and that the threat he gave to Dylan all those years ago becomes known to more than just us."
"Damn," dragged out Val. "You go, Aunt Cindy."
Cindy squeezed Val's shoulder.
"You haven't called me that in a long time," said Cindy, misty-eyed.
"Thank you, Cindy," said Brenda. Although Cindy's words had helped Brenda's caution to slightly lessen, it hadn't lessened enough to refer to Cindy as her mother. "Dylan shouldn't've had to carry that alone."
"He absolutely should not have," agreed Cindy.
Brenda jumped up at the knock on the door.
"How do I look?" she asked the room.
"Same as you always do," said Brandon. "Dylan sees you every day. He probably wouldn't care if you looked bad."
"I look bad?" Horrified, Brenda examined her clothing for any unnoticed stains.
"If you looked bad," Brandon emphasized. "Which you don't. Of course."
"Ain't Dyl at the door," said Val.
"I thought Luca cancelled," said Brandon.
"I don't know why everyone's acting like Luca keeps standing me up, instead of taking excellent care of his patients," said Brenda.
"Well, he has cancelled three times," said Brandon. "If this was baseball, he'd be out."
"Good thing it's not baseball," said Brenda. "We give people fourth chances all the time."
She opened the door to see Luca's head barely peeking out behind a large bouquet of Brenda's favorite flowers.
"Luca! Is that for me?" she asked.
"It is," said Luca.
"Danke," said Brenda, one of the only German words she could correctly pronounce.
"I found them by the door," said Luca. "I am afraid my own bouquet is quite small in comparison."
He held out a much smaller bouquet.
"A for Effort," said Brenda.
She wondered if the other bouquet had been from Dylan, but assumed Dylan would have just brought it in.
"We go?" asked Luca.
"Unless you want to meet my mother," said Brenda.
"Your mother is here?"
"Right inside, with Brandon and Val. Steve's in there also, and Dylan should show up with David any minute. You never know who might be next. Could be Clare. She and Steve will act like they've never met before even though you'd have to be a fool to not see how in love they are. Could be Donna or Kel, maybe Andrea or even Kai. My father might also randomly drop in and start yelling at Dylan. He does that, apparently."
"It is a bulging house, nein?" asked Luca.
"Technically, it's just the four of us, but everyone else likes to hang around."
"We go," said Luca.
Dinner was met with light, entertaining conversation. Brenda told Luca what little she recalled about her theatrical career. He told her about his parents' home in the Upper Middle Rhine Valley, the family Dorgi named Frido, and how Luca visited as often as his own career permitted.
"I love dogs," said Brenda. "Brandon and I both do. We used to have one, but he died a long time ago."
"This I am sorry for," said Luca. "Maybe you come meet Frido."
"Maybe." Brenda folded the corners of her cloth napkin. "Luca, you know about my brain thing?"
"I have heard of it, yes. Your memories are limited?"
"Shot to hell, with some exceptions."
"Dylan; he is an exception?"
"My brother is the only full exception, for reasons no one can explain. Since Val's been staying with us, she has become a partial exception."
"Then Dylan is not an exception?"
"Any and all memories I had of Dylan are gone, barring the ones we've developed since he came here. I may get the old ones back; I may not."
"You loved him once?"
"I have been told I did. It is possible I do now." Brenda watched the bubbles chase each other in her water glass. "You should know that as the father of my daughter, Dylan and I are very close. Maybe too close. I'm worried that closeness is making me think things that aren't true. We do live together. He's convinced that we'll continue living together, but I can't be too sure myself."
"Then you are trying to establish your, uh, attitude?"
"Feelings."
"Your feelings for Dylan."
"Or lack thereof."
"I take it, then, that you are not looking for serious relationship."
"Does that bother you?"
Far brighter than any cinematic prince's, Luca's grin melted Brenda's knees to the point that she feared she would fall out of her chair.
"I am also not looking for serious," he said.
He told Brenda of the five-year relationship he had recently ended with an Olympic figure skater, and that it was a relief to have a date without future expectations.
"Was it a bad breakup?" asked Brenda.
"Not bad," said Luca. "Necessary. She was offered contract with team in South Korea. Gone two years. I not want her to decline opportunity for me."
"I'm sorry. That must've been hard. I sometimes wonder if it hurts more to have painful memories, or to forget them."
"I have found that the memories do bring pain," said Luca, "but if I did not have them; if, like you, I did not know my Tricia, that would pain more."
"Tricia? Her name is Tricia?"
"Yes, Tricia. To me, she is girl who owned ice."
"How did you meet?"
"There was a group of us from school, visiting Lillehammer for the Games. My friend, Otto, he was the one to spot Tricia, but she first saw me. She was like dancer on a frosted cloud."
"Is it strange for us to be discussing our exes?" asked Brenda.
"Peculiar, yes, but does it take the pressure off?"
It did.
Luca asked how Brenda had met Dylan.
Brenda replied to Luca with what she had been told; that she had met Dylan in school.
"He was my brother's best friend," said Brenda. "Was. Or is. Neither of them seem to know. Either way, he's my best friend now."
"I will help you see if you are able to date, or if your - feelings, I believe you said - for Dylan are too strong?"
"And I will help you open your heart to moving on from Tricia. But you should know that Dylan has asked - insisted, really - on taking me on dates of our own."
"It is you he loves," said Luca.
"He thinks so. I don't know how genuine it is."
"You are unsure if him you love?"
"The accident left me with little grasp on the most basic of human emotions. They have become complex, and love is already complex. I'm not entirely sure I'm capable of loving someone to the extent I used to. I'm still trying to understand what love even is."
"If you do find that you love Dylan as you he loves, then you will tell me and the fun will end, ja?"
"Ja. I won't fall for two. Steve says that is a dreadful thing to do."
"It is deal. We will have fun, but not too much fun, and keep relationship light. If it becomes less than light -"
"- we will tell each other and end it." Brenda shook Luca's hand. "Val likes you. I think she might've asked you out, if I hadn't mentioned it first. Maybe you could date her when our experiment is done."
"That would be acceptable?"
"Sort of. It would be okay with me, but I'm personally hoping Val forgives my daughter's uncle David and gives him another chance because David is crazy about her and I know she feels the same about him."
"Crazy?"
"It's an expression."
Luca brought Brenda to his friend's pet shop, where Brenda played with the puppies and almost brought one or four home.
They then went to the movies, to see a romantic comedy starring an up-and-coming Australian, swoon-worthy actor named Heath Ledger.
Picturing how Dylan would sound as an Australian, Brenda added the film to her mental list of ones to buy.
She would force Val to watch, for Val to see her own eerie resemblance to Kat.
Brenda had such a good time, she almost missed her curfew.
She walked into the house to see every pair of eyes pinpointed on her.
Every pair, except one.
"How was it?" he asked, blank-faced as he stood to prepare her regimen.
Brenda's care team had approved her regimen being pushed to a later time of night, but to her annoyance, she still had to take her medicine either way.
Including those blasted prenatals.
"It was fun," said Brenda. "He took me to this great movie. We should see it together."
"Which movie?" called out Val.
"10 Things I Hate About You," said Brenda. "It was released last month."
"Oh, I've been wanting to see that," said Val.
"I could take you," said David.
Valerie ignored him.
"Steve, you wanna go?" she asked.
"Sounds like a chick flick," said Steve. "Is it a chick flick?"
"There's hot chicks in it," said Val.
"Sign me up," said Steve.
Brenda felt for David. She hadn't been told of his screw-ups nor had seen them for herself, but Brenda did think David had kept trying to make it up to Val.
Whatever it was.
"Glad you had a good time," said Dylan. "Here." He handed Brenda a small cup of tea and her medicine.
"I thought you said to cut back on the tea," she said with the whisper of a smile.
"You can cut back starting tomorrow. Should I put you to bed?"
"I think I'm good for another hour." Brenda dutifully swallowed her pills, then glanced around at everyone. "What were you doing?"
"Oh, Val and Silver are in a music-off. We all placed bets. Most of them are on Val."
"Which I resent," said David.
"What's a music-off?" asked Brenda.
One person names a band or artist, said Val. The other person had to come up with a song by that musician within a three-minute time frame. The game then continued until someone hesitated.
"And you have to name a song they actually wrote themselves," added Val.
"Which got out the rest of us," said Brandon.
"I genuinely thought Starship wrote We Built This City," said Dylan.
"I want to play against Val when they're done," said Brenda.
"Why Val?" asked David.
"Because I call winner and Val's gonna win," said Brenda.
David emitted a noise of indignation.
"Sisters over misters," said Val approvingly.
"Bren hasn't even seen me play," said David.
"I don't need to see you play to know Val's gonna win," said Brenda.
"That's my girl," said Dylan.
Brenda changed into pajama bottoms and one of Dylan's shirts, which she found more comfortable than her own. Returning to the others, she sat to watch the competition at a distance.
"Mind if I," Dylan pointed to the space beside Brenda.
"You don't usually ask anymore," she said.
"I don't usually need to," he said. "But if you're dating König now…" he trailed off.
"We're helping each other," she said. "I hope that won't mess with things between us."
"I did tell you if you let me into your bed, you'd have a hard time getting me out," said Dylan. "Should I expect König to come around here more often?"
"I think we'll mostly be outside the house," said Brenda.
Propping her aching legs up on Dylan, she received an instant massage as if he could tell they ached.
"If you don't want me to try this thing with Luca," she started.
"You've already tried it," said Dylan. "And I'm not about to tell you what you can and cannot do with your life. Just so long as König knows that my place in your life is solid, as a lot more than just the father of our daughter."
"He knows. I told him."
"Good. Because we've been separated one too many times, and it's not happening again."
"Agreed. Just please coax your daughter into getting her foot off of my ribs. She was quiet the whole night, and then as soon as she heard you coming, she started treating my ribcage like it's a punching bag."
"Oh, does someone not like Luca?" asked Dylan as he burrowed his face into Brenda's stomach. "Want Daddy to keep Mommy's blue-eyed boyfriend away from you?"
"Don't encourage her," said Brenda.
"Be nice to your Mummy, little darlin'," Dylan soothed. "She needs good sleep because Daddy's gonna have her up extra early in the morning."
"Extra early?" asked Brenda. "How early?"
"Early." Dylan lifted the hem of Brenda's shirt ever-so-slightly to sneak his hand under it.
He had done so countless other times, but for some reason, that moment felt different to Brenda.
He had barely touched her before their child had settled down and Brenda could properly breathe again.
Nearly properly.
She now often had difficulty breathing normally around Dylan, even when their child wasn't stirring a fuss.
"Okay, but I should probably start spending hours alone if I'm going to prove to the court that I can be," she said. "That means you and Brandon are going to have to make sure no one takes care of me for at least two days a week to start with. Which also means I'll bring myself to all my appointments on those days."
"I'll never forgive Jim for making you feel like this," said Dylan. "I'm not entirely convinced he's running the show, but either way, he's still made you feel like this and that is unacceptable."
"Who else would be running the show?"
"See, that's the thing. Jim isn't my biggest fan -"
"That's a severe understatement."
"- but going after you to get to me, putting you through this hearing, that ain't something Jimbo would do in ordinary circumstances. His style is more direct, a little more private to keep matters quieter. He rejected my offer of the quieter route. So I'm wondering if Jim might've gotten involved with people who want to see me suffer and promised him you if Jim made it happen."
Brenda thought Dylan was giving the man who had denigrated and threatened him far too much benefit of the doubt.
"Well, these aren't ordinary circumstances," she said, "and Jim is putting me through this. All so he can have the control. So he can fix me. So I can fit his standards and go back to being his dutiful little girl."
"Trust me, Bren. You haven't been Jim's 'dutiful little girl' in years. If you ever were."
They discussed the matter of Brenda's arrangement further, until Dylan was persuaded to agree.
"But you have to promise you'll let us know if you need anything," he said. "I especially don't like leaving you alone for too long when we don't know if she'll decide to make her grand entrance before our due date."
"If I feel the tiniest hint of a contraction, I'll call you, okay?"
"Even if you know it's Braxton Hicks."
"Even if I know it's Braxton Hicks."
"By the way," said Dylan, "dropped into the shop and got you that pillow you said they recommended in class."
"Thank you!" Brenda smacked her lips against Dylan's chin, narrowly missing his lips. "You're coming with me to the next one, right?"
"Your boyfriend teaching it?"
"I'm not sure."
"Oh, I'm coming either way. I was just curious. Salesperson said it should help you be able to adjust your sleeping position more easily. If it doesn't, let me know and I'll be sure to file a complaint against the company. I brought home a catalogue, too, so we can flip through and choose a crib."
"Fuck!" said Brenda. "I completely forgot to organize our registry."
"It's okay, babe. We can still put it together and whatever we need after the others have gone through it, I'll buy."
"We'll buy."
"Yes, we'll."
"We should probably start discussing names, too."
"I was thinking Byronita."
"You were not!"
"I wasn't, but you should see your face," Dylan laughed.
"Did Brandon tell you that Cindy said she's separating from Jim if he goes through with the suit?"
"No kidding?" Tangled emotions swirled in Dylan's eyes. "I didn't tell your mother about that summer so she'd feel like she had to separate from Jim. Before your family came along, all I knew were fractured ones. I never wanted to fracture yours."
"You, our daughter, Brandon, and Val are my family. Maybe Steve and David, too. You haven't fractured anything."
"Au contraire," said Dylan. "I've fractured everything."
"Which you're piecing back together," said Brenda.
"Slowly," said Dylan. "Very slowly. And I'm fully aware that she's the only reason you've let me get this close."
"Steve said we have something between us that he keeps searching for."
"What's that?"
"He wouldn't tell me. Will you?"
"Tell? No."
Brenda tried to taper her disappointment.
"But show? Yes," said Dylan. "I'll show you. If I know what Steve's talking about, because I'm pretty sure I do."
"Will you talk to him for me?" she asked. "I know you wanted us to stay out of whatever it is between him and Clare, but I think Steve's depressed about it. I don't like seeing him so upset."
"I'll broach the subject. Can't promise he'll tell me, though."
"You work on Steve, and I'll see what I can get out of Clare."
"Then start with Val. Sanders had to bring her home after she drank one too many with Clare."
"Should we worry over Val, too?"
"We can worry, but good luck getting anything out of Val. How are things between you and Cin?"
"I don't trust either of my parents right now."
"That's understandable, but I think we can trust Cin. She supported us from the get-go."
"Thanks for the flowers."
"Don't know what you're talking about."
"The ones that came before I left."
"Still don't know what you're talking about."
A suitcase of Brenda's possessions had arrived earlier that evening from London. Leaving her friends to their game, Brenda went to sift through her items.
She pulled out a lovely, hand-drawn card that said her London friends wished her well and asked that they please be allowed to see her soon.
Brenda lifted out a number of books, some signed by their various authors.
One was signed by Dylan.
She heard him before she saw him.
"You wrote a book?" she asked, flipping through its pages.
"I wrote you a bunch of poems," said Dylan. His slouched posture lingered in the doorway. "You surprised me by having them compiled into that leather-bound - faux leather-bound - binding and gave it to me for one of my birthdays we were back together. Then you told me to autograph it. You said that if I ever published a novel, you would've been able to claim being the first one to get an autograph from me." Dylan shifted from one foot to the other. "You always had far more faith in me than I had in myself. I'm sorry I lost sight of that."
"These are wonderful." Brenda traced the accompanying illustrations. "Who did the art?"
"Zahur," Dylan barely got out.
"He was a beautiful artist."
"And a beautiful person."
"Are your poems about our life in England?"
"Some. Others are about California, or trips we took together. We liked to trot around the continent when given the chance, either during your tours, or by ourselves. Occasionally, we'd - we'd go by horse."
"I love horses."
"I know you do."
"Maybe that's what we should do."
"Ride a horse? Now? I don't think our OB would approve that, Bren."
"No, take a trip. Val mentioned it might help if we spent time alone together, away from everyone else."
"Just tell me when and where and we're there."
"We can't go too far."
"I hear Sweden's nice. Or we could go up to Lapland, see the Auroras."
"Aurora. We could call her Aurora."
"Borealis?" asked Dylan.
"We are not calling her Borealis."
"She could be Aurora and I could change my last name to Borealis. Aurora Borealis."
"Dylan Borealis? No way. Forget I mentioned it. I much prefer McKay."
"Aurora McKay doesn't sound too bad."
"Too late. You ruined it. Aurora's off the table."
Concerned Jim or his legal team would view their trip as a chance to run, they decided to wait until after the initial hearing.
Among a plethora of other items, Brenda found a stack of brightly colored notebooks that she soon recognized as diaries.
"I indexed my diaries?" she asked.
"Not surprised in the slightest that you indexed your diaries," said Dylan.
"Was I overly organized?"
"You could be, yes. It's one of the things I love about you. You'd clean when you got stressed, too."
"I still do that," said Brenda.
"You hear a lot about your life from us," said Dylan. "When you mentioned your diaries, I asked the lads to send them over so that you could read about it from your own perspective."
"There might be brutal entries about you in here."
"I'm sure there are."
Brenda wondered if her carefully penned entries would help her to understand love. She asked Dylan to read them to her, in the event that she had questions from the entries that only Dylan could answer.
Brenda set aside the suitcase to unpack another day and then, knackered though she was, competed against Valerie in the new music-off.
Valerie won, but Brenda managed to hold her own.
It was nice to know she had made enough progress to remember some things like the songs and musicians she had heard in her sessions, even if she couldn't recall the crucial things.
Like the first words Dylan had spoken to her. The first time she had met Steve. If she had ever helped Valerie through a crisis, and how she could do so again.
The name of her family's old dog.
If her parents' only squabbles had occurred because of her.
And how the hell she had figured out love before when the entire concept seemed nothing short of impossible.
If Brandon, Val, and Steve couldn't do it, Brenda didn't know how she possibly could.
Maybe if one of them sorted out their own life, she could learn how to sort hers.
-x
Since we're nearly at chapter twenty, what I might do with Lethe is catch it up to the twenties before trying to focus on Itero and/or Illumination. It depends on which mindset I'm in more.
Sources: Google, YouTube + the websites for IMDB and Mom Junction.
(Shout-out to KJ and Guest to express my continued gratitude and appreciation.)
Thanks a million! x