WARNING: READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.
-x
They had searched every day for going on a week.
She had specifically taken up lessons to permit her to dive further under the water, the way Dylan and Steve could.
Every day they returned without David, she saw her sister's spirit disintegrate a little more.
She didn't know what to say. She didn't know if anything could be said.
Normally, she would tell Valerie about Aria's latest movements, about the little moments Dylan would tell her about when she came home from work. They would talk of Dylan, of David and of Curtis, before discussing how long Valerie anticipated she would remain in Maine.
Brenda couldn't talk about any of that.
She couldn't bring up her child, when Valerie was in the process of losing her own.
Brenda at first thought she had upset Valerie in some way that Val hadn't wanted to share the wonderful news.
She then realized that Valerie had purposely kept the baby a secret between her and David because it had been nice for it to stay between the two of them.
The gang had taken turns, staying overnight at Valerie's or staying in a hotel.
She always had someone with her, for everyone feared what would happen if Valerie didn't.
When it was Brenda's turn to stay with Valerie, Dylan and a fourth person were typically around as well.
"Val?" Brenda knocked on the door, opening it to a room shuttered to light. "Babe, you should really eat something."
"What's the point, Bren?" asked Valerie, rolling over on her side to face away from Brenda.
Brenda eyed the pigsty of a room.
She had contemplated cleaning it, several times.
Dylan had advised it would be better if she didn't, not whilst Valerie was in it.
"Mel already tried to get me to eat," said Val. "I'll tell you what I told him. I'm not hungry."
"You have to keep your energy up for when they bring David home," said Brenda. "You won't be able to hug him if you don't, and I'm sure David wants one of your hugs."
"David's not coming home," said Val. "I just have to face it. He's dead. He left me, just like his baby's doing."
"Don't say that," said Brenda. She knew that when her chest clenched, it wasn't from her cardiac issues. "He's alive. I know he is. He's alive, and he's trying to get back to you."
"What do you know about it, Bren?" asked Val. "Were you there when David toppled over the edge of the gallery deck?"
"No, but…"
"Were you there when he crashed into the water?"
"We've - we've been searching, and I just know…"
"You just know what? David has an escape, Bren. He has an out. If he is alive, it's clear he's not coming back, that he doesn't want to come back. So let me tell myself he's dead and maybe it'll hurt less."
"But he isn't."
"Can you just go away? I want to be alone. Why won't any of you let me be alone?"
"Because we love you, Val," said Brenda. "I - I can't understand what you're going through, but I - I…"
"No, you can't understand what I'm going through," said Val, "so quit acting like you can and go away!"
If a toaster had been thrown at her head, Brenda thought it would have ached less.
"I'm," she bit down on her trembling lips, "I'm sorry I care," she said.
Valerie flipped back over, an apology sketched upon her face.
"Bren, I - I didn't mean -"
The urge to get away had already taken over.
"Brenda!" she heard behind her. "Val, what happened?"
"Dylan; shit, Dylan, I - I didn't mean to talk to her that way…I just…fuck, I should go after her…"
"I'll do it. Clare, can you stay with Val?"
"Sure thing."
Brenda ran out of the apartment building.
"Brenda! You're sprinting!"
She slowed down her run.
"I - I can't help her," said Brenda as Dylan caught up to her. "Everything I do is wrong. She's - she's in so much pain, and I can't do anything for her. She did everything for me, Dylan. She spent months of her life caring for me, making me the best tea, bringing me to appointments, driving me around, even helping me through labor and I can't - I can't do anything for her."
Dylan tangled himself around Brenda from behind.
She could always find comfort in her husband, and that moment was no different.
"Maybe," he said, "maybe what we have to do for Val right now is nothing."
"I can't do nothing," said Brenda.
"I don't mean nothing nothing," said Dylan. "I mean…we wait. We wait, for her to come to us."
"She said David's dead. But he isn't. He isn't dead."
"Valerie's grieving," said Dylan. "Sometimes grieving people don't wanna face that they're grieving and sometimes, they take it out on the people they love. You know Val loves you, Bren."
"I know," said Brenda.
"And I know you love her, which is why you want to help. But," Dylan stepped around to stand in front of Brenda, "Bren, did you let Val help you from the second she stepped off of the plane?"
Brenda attempted to recall a moment that for her seemed a lifetime ago.
"No," she said. "I hid behind Brandon."
"What about the next day?" asked Dylan. "Did you let her help you then?"
"I hid under the table." Comprehension dawned of Dylan's meaning. "She had to wait for me to be willing to come out from under the table."
"So how about we wait for Val to come out from under the covers?" Dylan suggested.
"But what if she never comes out from under the covers?" asked Brenda.
"She will," said Dylan. "Those covers were mighty comforting after Jack died, too."
"You should talk to her about that. About Jack."
"I would," said Dylan, "but I prefer your theory that Silver's alive. And until we get some kind of solid confirmation that he isn't, I'm not gonna help Val to give up by talking to her about how I've dealt with death."
"Twice," said Brenda. "My mind sheltered me from Mina's, Shane's, and Zahur's. Your mind hasn't sheltered yours. It's still there. Both of them."
"Alright," said Dylan, "if Silver's indeed not here anymore, then I'll see if Val's willing to let me open up to her about Jack, and about Toni. Now, is it okay if I kiss my wife's tears out of her mouth?"
"Tears aren't in your mouth," said Brenda.
"That's because they get kissed away," said Dylan, as he did exactly as he had said.
Brenda followed the advice of her husband.
She waited.
And waited.
"Do you think David's gone?" she asked Brandon after another unsuccessful day of searching.
"I think your optimism is keeping most of us holding on," said Brandon. "I'm not even sure Don is able to muster up as much optimism right now, Bren, and I know Kelly really appreciates it. So keep holding onto it, and we'll keep searching."
Brenda said she would.
She had decided she would bake something for Valerie, and then perhaps Val would agree to eat.
Brenda busied herself with the ingredients, pulling out each one with the added intention of distracting herself from the overwhelming ache that had come with the distance from her daughter.
"Bren?"
Brenda glanced away from the mixing bowl.
Valerie stood in her nightgown, palm pressed against her lower back.
"What does a contraction feel like?" she asked Brenda.
Brenda grappled with the question.
"Like - like -" she stuttered.
"Like your back's being repeatedly stabbed with a hunting knife?" asked Valerie, hunching over.
Brenda immediately ran to Valerie, who clung to her.
"They said this could happen," Val moaned. "That it - that it would feel like - like period pain, but…" she clutched at her stomach, "this is a thousand times worse than any damn period I've ever had."
"What do you want me to do?" asked Brenda.
"I want you to be with me," said Val, "when it…when it…"
Brenda nodded, to let Valerie know she understood and the sentence didn't have to be completed.
"Can I," Valerie stumbled over her words, "can you ask Kelly and Aunt Cindy in there, too?"
"You want Kelly in there?" asked Brenda to clarify the words had truly exited Valerie's mouth and she hadn't imagined them.
"David," said Val, "he - he would want her to be there." She released a tear she hadn't let fall since the rest of the gang had been told of the news. "And I - I want her there, in his - in his place."
"Then she'll be there," said Brenda.
"But I don't want anyone else there," said Val. "Or standing outside the door. I don't want to traumatize them, especially Donna."
"I'll keep everyone else out," said Brenda.
She lay out bedding on the bathroom floor, wanting everything to be as normal for Valerie as it could be.
Once Brenda had gotten Valerie situated, she dialed Dylan.
He was outside, on the porch, but Brenda didn't want to leave Valerie alone long enough to get him.
"Hey baby," said Dylan, his voice lacking its usual luster.
"Still no David?" she asked.
"Yeah. I talked to Steve and Mel. Still no Silver."
"Are you with Brandon?"
Dylan said he was.
"Is Kelly with Brandon?"
She was.
"Is it," Dylan asked, his question left unfinished.
"Yeah," said Brenda.
As tears crept into her voice, she understood Dylan's idea of kissing them out of her mouth.
"She's asked if Kel can be there, since David isn't," said Brenda.
"Kel's coming in," said Dylan.
"She wants Mom there, too."
"Brandon's signaling her. Should I…" Dylan's question hung in the air.
"She thinks it'll be too traumatizing for everyone else."
"Val's come a long way," said Dylan.
Kelly and Brenda seated themselves by Valerie.
It was strange for Brenda to be on the other side of labor, especially a labor all of the gang had dreaded to arrive.
She supported Valerie, the way Val had supported her.
"He's supposed to be here," said Val as her body released another blood clot into the toilet. "Fuck, this fucking hurts!"
Brenda stayed as solid as she could, thankful to have Kelly and Cindy there if she faltered.
"I think," Valerie's legs twitched as she spoke, "I think this is it."
Kelly and Brenda helped her off of the toilet.
"You can cry," Brenda told her, caressing Valerie's face. "It's okay to cry."
"Do you want me to hold your hand?" asked Kelly.
The way he would, Brenda thought, but didn't say.
Brenda's chin sat on Valerie's shoulder. Valerie's arm shot up around Brenda's neck. Kelly's hand gripped Valerie's. Cindy sat criss-cross by Valerie's legs.
"What day is it today?" asked Val.
Brenda told her.
"Twelve weeks." Valerie laughed bitterly. "I would've been twelve weeks, today."
She bore down.
Brenda had lost track of how many hours had been spent in that bathroom, or how many tears she had wiped from Valerie's face.
"So, so," said Brenda.
Tiny had popped into her mind, but she couldn't bring herself to say it.
Tiny enough to fit into the middle of Valerie's palm.
"He's so perfect," said Valerie.
"Hey, little guy," said Kelly.
"You are so very loved," said Brenda.
Valerie looked at Cindy, who nodded.
"Girls, I think we can give Val and - and -"
"Daniel," said Valerie. "Daniel Sidney Silver."
"I think we can give Val and," Cindy coughed to hide emotion of her own, "Daniel a moment of privacy."
"We'll be in the hallway," said Brenda.
"Holler if you need us," said Kelly.
"You're a Walsh," Cindy told Daniel. "And Walshes are forever loved, no matter how long they sleep."
"We McKays will claim you, too," said Brenda.
"And you're partly Taylor," said Kelly, "just like your Daddy."
They stood by the bathroom door, Kelly hugging Brenda.
"You did great in there," she said.
"Did I?" asked Brenda. "It didn't feel like enough."
"It isn't you," said Kelly. "It didn't feel like enough because someone important was missing."
"Do you think we'll find him, Kel?" asked Brenda.
"I had thought so, but now I really don't know. And I hate not knowing."
They heard Valerie begin to sing.
"As fingertips feel the sensation to weep, and wax-melted candles reflect in your sleep / A beauty that forces the pain to retreat, even though the waves can keep breaking."
"I haven't heard Val sing before," said Brenda.
Kelly said neither had she.
"She has a nice voice," said Brenda.
Kelly agreed.
"Skipping the next three lines," came Valerie's muffled dialogue, "my heart is the one that you're taking. / I hope and - and pray that as the years run away, and hourglass sands stand still as I say…"
"I don't know this song," said Brenda. "Do you?"
Kelly did not.
"I love you a little bit more every day / you're the half of my whole, no mistaking."
"I like it," said Brenda.
So did Kelly.
Valerie's voice dropped to a whisper, and they were no longer able to hear what she was saying.
Brenda decided it was better that way.
Valerie called them back in, telling them what she had decided to do with Daniel.
Kelly called around, asking for a tiny coffin.
Brenda stayed by Valerie's side, for hours on end as Valerie passed multiple other blood clots.
"Bren?" asked Valerie the following morning. "What are you still doing here?"
"Helping you," said Brenda.
"Then help me by going home," said Val, "and give Aria a squeeze for the both of us."
Brenda had longed to return to her daughter, but she hadn't wanted to give the impression that she had.
"I shouldn't leave you," said Brenda.
"Please," said Val. "Go home to our girl."
Brenda brought it up to Dylan, who looked over at the others.
"We aren't leaving Val alone," said Dylan. "Or giving up on the search for Silver."
"Kel and I have talked it over," said Brandon. "We'll stay. I already spoke with the Judge to explain the situation and got approval for Nat to stay with you and Bren until I'm back. Nat's good with that."
"We are, too," said Brenda.
"Clare thinks one of us should be here also," said Steve, his hand interlaced in Clare's.
"Gotta represent the Sanders side," said Clare softly.
"Ryan's got Dad covered for a bit," said Steve, "and Clare's needed back in the lab, so it'll be me."
"And me," said Donna. "Gina's handling the store just fine without me."
"Gina?" asked Kelly.
"We're actually getting along," said Donna. "I know; I was surprised, too. But I think we've both agreed that we don't have to hate each other, just because Mother and Aunt Alberta do."
"Aunt Alberta?" asked Kelly.
"I forgot," said Donna. "She prefers Aunt Bobbi now."
Jackie went home to Erin. Jim returned to Finland.
Mel and Cindy stayed behind, as Mel continued to try to track down David's often mentally unstable, prone to disappearing mother.
Throwing open the door to Iris' cottage, Brenda sprinted straight past Iris to get to the playpen that sat in Iris' living room.
She picked Aria up, held her tightly against her chest, sniffed Aria's head, and wept into Aria's outfit.
Dylan held them both.
"Your auntie Val sends her love," said Brenda. "Your cousin Daniel does, too."
"You'll meet him someday," said Dylan, "but for right now, your great-aunt Sheila needed him more."
"You'll meet her someday, too," said Brenda, "but we don't want to think about that day."
"No, we don't," said Dylan.
Aria played with her story blocks.
Brenda turned her head into Dylan's chest.
"I didn't want to leave her," said Brenda.
"Neither did I," said Dylan, "but -"
"But she thought Aria would need us more," said Brenda. "Except Aria is in the middle of playtime, and Val is deciding where - where to bury Daniel."
Dylan didn't say anything. He simply continued to hold Brenda and Aria.
"We still don't know what happened," said Brenda, "why David's missing, or how Val and Daniel got hurt."
"Val will tell us," said Dylan, "in her own time."
"When she lets go of the table," said Brenda.
"Yes," said Dylan, "when she lets go of the table."
They kept Aria up past her bedtime, enjoying the moments they had together as a family of three.
Every moment, even the less pleasant ones like when they didn't finish Aria's diaper change in time and she peed on Dylan's face.
Brenda couldn't hold in her laugh.
"Oh, you think this is funny, do you?" asked Dylan. "Aria," he picked her up, "do you think Mummy needs some pee on her face? I think she does."
"No!" said Brenda, running and laughing from Dylan trying to rub his face on hers. "White flag! I raise the white flag!"
"What white flag?" asked Dylan as he forced Brenda to surrender.
Aria giggled, clapping her hands.
"Did you hear that?" asked Brenda.
"Giggle again, baby," said Dylan, staring at her.
Aria defiantly pursed her lips.
"She giggled," said Brenda.
"Her first giggle," said Dylan. "And we were both around to hear it."
Brenda's joy dissipated.
"I wish Daniel had giggled," she said.
"Me too, baby," said Dylan, pressing his lips against Brenda's ear. "Me too."
"Do you think he's giggling up there?" she asked. "That aunt Sheila is making him giggle?"
"I think that's a beautiful possibility, Bren," said Dylan.
"Maybe Daniel has found David, and he can tell David that Val needs him to return."
"You still think Silver's gonna return?"
"Don't you?"
"I want to, but…"
"It's okay," said Brenda. "I'll believe enough for the both of us."
"You always have," said Dylan. "You've helped me to believe in things that I never thought could be possible."
"I think David did the same for Val," said Brenda. "She needs to hold onto that, and hold onto the idea that he's trying to get back to her."
"Silver's possible return is the only reason I didn't drag Val back with us," said Dylan.
"I thought of doing that as well," said Brenda.
"I don't know what Aria and I would do if we ever lost you," said Dylan.
"Let's not think about that, either," said Brenda, "and put Aria to bed."
"Then we'll put ourselves to bed."
"I'm not quite ready for sleep."
"I hear you loud and clear," said Dylan. "Slow?"
"Very slow," said Brenda. "I just want to cherish my husband."
"I'll go as slow as my wife wants," said Dylan, "but I can't promise I won't pick up speed."
They spent the remainder of the night plastered to each others' birthday suits.
Life resumed, as lives often do in seasons of heartache. Brenda worked. Dylan wrote. Aria played, then slept, then ate, had diaper changes, and played again. Erica surfed, determined to get every bit of the last good weather she could. Nat taught Brenda some of his family recipes. Jim challenged Dylan at kayaking, with Dylan coming out on top.
Half of their family stayed gone, or missing, but the McKays tried to make due.
As they waited for news, one way or the other.
And with each passing day, Brenda's optimism chipped away a little bit more.
She watched the moon rise into the sky.
"David," she told the moon, "I don't know if you can hear me. Iris says the moon carries messages to people we miss, but Dylan says that most of what Iris says is a load of crock. I don't know if it is. But I hope it's true and that you can hear this, because it's time for you to stop missing. You know Val. And I know Val. How much longer do you think she'll hold on if you don't show up?"
"Brenda?"
"I'm talking to David," said Brenda.
"You're…talking to Silver?" asked Dylan, concern etched upon his face.
"Iris said the moon carries messages," said Brenda. "I thought I would try seeing if it can carry one to David."
Speechless, Dylan embraced her.
They stood tangled in each other, both looking at the moon.
"Hey," said Dylan, "if, uh, if you do carry messages, then, then tell Silver to get his ass back to Val. Now."
"Thank you," said Brenda, as she kissed him.
"You oughta watch that," said Dylan. "You have an early schedule tomorrow and if you do things like that, you're gonna show up to work super fucking tired."
"I am?" asked Brenda.
"You are," said Dylan, kissing her back until they had toppled onto their bed in a full-on makeout session that resulted in the removal of clothes.
And the entangling of heartbeats.
xx
There had been a heartbeat.
She had heard it. They both had.
There had been a heartbeat, until it had ceased.
As hers had also ceased, when she had been told.
Kelly had asked where she wanted to bury Daniel.
Valerie knew precisely where, but she pretended she had to think it over.
Pretending permitted her to get her affairs in order, for Valerie had decided what she would do after the burial.
What she should have done when she had been given the chance.
"Why did you stay with me?" she asked Kelly. "Why are you here, when I've been so awful to you?"
"I'd say we've been awful to each other," said Kelly. "Do you really want an answer?"
Valerie did.
They invited Brandon in to sit with them.
"We aren't telling you this because we're trying to make you feel better," said Brandon.
"We know nothing can make you feel better," said Kelly.
"But we want you to know there are people who understand," said Brandon.
"We do," said Kelly. "A little. Enough that we're telling you you can lean on us, on both of us, whenever you need to."
Though she couldn't see her own facial expression, Valerie felt sure it had encouraged them to continue.
"We've never told anyone this," said Kelly.
"Do you remember around college graduation?" asked Brandon.
"How I was so angry with you?" asked Kelly.
"Because I tried to get into business with your dad," said Val, inwardly questioning how that was relevant.
"I was angry about a lot," said Kelly. "That was just the icing on an already crappy time."
"We were - Kelly was," Brandon corrected.
"We were pregnant," said Kelly. "Brandon and I."
Valerie was at a rare loss for words.
"We didn't know what we were gonna do," said Brandon.
"Donna and Jackie both knew," said Kelly. "We didn't tell anyone else."
"Kel had done a home pregnancy test," said Brandon. "Came out positive. We scheduled an appointment."
"I'd gotten my period," said Kelly. "I was initially thrilled. It meant I wouldn't have to make a decision about anything. I told Donna and Jackie that it was a false alarm. Don was relieved. I think Jackie was a little sad, though she'd never admit it."
"It wasn't your period," Valerie realized.
"Kel kept the appointment," said Brandon.
"I wanted to discuss going on the pill," said Kelly. "The doctor ran some tests. She told me I had - had -"
"Miscarried," said Valerie, the horrifying word said more easily when thinking of someone else's than her own.
"I didn't know I was going to be so devastated," said Kelly.
"She told me," said Brandon. "We decided to keep it between us."
"I didn't want anyone else to know the truth of what had happened," said Kelly. "I felt like it was my fault, like my baby hadn't meant anything to me until it was no longer there."
"But our baby did - does - mean something to us, just like yours does to you," said Brandon.
"I'm not sure if Don believes me about the false alarm," said Kelly. "I kinda think she might've assumed I had an abortion. Brandon and I; we had talked about it."
"David asked me," said Val, "he asked me if I wanted Daniel. I had to think it over before I told him I did."
"That doesn't mean you love Daniel any less," said Kelly.
"Or that you won't think about him any less," said Brandon.
"I don't know if I can go through it again," said Val. "I mean, I know that I can. When they checked me out to make sure - to make sure everything had cleared, they said - they said I could. Technically. But I don't think I can go through any of it again."
"You don't have to decide right now." Kelly took Valerie's hands. "You have a long road of healing ahead of you. But just know whatever you decide, whenever you decide it, Brandon and I are one call away."
"One call, or one plane?" asked Val.
"One call can become one plane," said Brandon.
"On Dylan's dime?" asked Val.
"On Dylan's dime," said Brandon, eliciting the smallest of smiles from Valerie.
"I never thought I'd see the day when I'd be appreciative for Kelly Taylor," said Val.
"I never thought I'd see the day when I'd seek to comfort Valerie Malone," said Kelly.
"Silver," said Valerie. "I'd - I'd like to be called Silver."
"Valerie Silver," said Kelly, clearing out the catch in her throat.
Valerie pulled both Brandon and Kelly in for a hug, at once.
"Thank you for telling me," she said. "It was something I really needed to hear."
"David wasn't always my brother," said Kelly. "In fact, I used to think of him as the dorky creep to be avoided."
"He was kinda dorky, wasn't he?" asked Val, thinking back to when she had first met David.
"If you thought he was dorky then, you should've seen him in high school," said Kelly. "But he didn't stay the dorky creep, and you don't have to stay the woman I only sorta kinda like sometimes."
"We don't have to say we love each other or anything, do we?" asked Val, trying to maintain some normalcy in their conversation.
"Right now, we can say we love Brandon, and David, Brenda, and Daniel," said Kelly. "But someday, who knows?"
There wouldn't be a someday, Valerie thought.
"Someday, who knows," she agreed.
"Glad I register on that scale, ladies," Brandon cracked a joke.
Valerie spent the rest of their visit being mildly entertained.
When Steve stayed with her, he always brought Donna along with him, as if he was afraid to say the wrong remark without Donna to protect him.
She heard him, talking to Donna.
"Val looked really cute with her little rounded belly," said Steve. "I think that's something Silver would've told her. Should I, for him?"
"Probably best if you don't, Steve," said Donna.
"I miss our gal, Don. I can normally get her to talk to me about anything and these days, she isn't saying much at all."
"She needs time," said Donna. "We're giving her that."
"She's never gonna be the same, is she?" asked Steve.
Donna didn't answer.
"Someone did this to them," said Steve. "I want to know who."
"Now's not the time to ask," said Donna.
Valerie blocked out the noise and burrowed further into her comforting cocoon of covers.
When she allowed sleep to surround her, she could imagine David lay beside her, that Daniel still grew between them.
She imagined David singing her song. Imagined him telling her his progress in writing a new song.
She heard his voice, constantly.
She was haunted by his spirit, and she hated it.
Mel never visited without Cindy. Valerie felt this was perhaps for the best, since Mel couldn't walk into the apartment without inquiring if David had been found.
How many times could Valerie answer that no, he hadn't, when Mel was as insistent as Brenda that David would be?
When Mel thought that sharing stories of David's good luck as a child would somehow help?
It seemed that when one suffered a miscarriage, others came out of the woodwork to share stories of their own.
She hadn't expected Cindy to have one of those stories.
"It was after I had my twins," said Cindy.
Valerie hadn't had the heart to tell Cindy about Strawberry Fields, and she was grateful that Cindy hadn't asked.
"Brandon and Brenda were about three years of age," said Cindy. "Jim and I had talked about having another child, someone to balance out Brandon and Brenda, who we could tell were already in competition with each other."
"I thought you had a third child," said Valerie, pointing at herself to ease the tension.
"A fourth child, then," said Cindy. "I had gone back to work after Brandon and Brenda turned two, and Sheila was with me when I picked them up from daycare to help me tell Jim the news. He was thrilled, of course." She fingered the handle on her mug. "Do you want to hear this?"
"I do," said Valerie.
Cindy had been sixteen weeks along when she and Jim had been informed that the baby had stopped developing.
"At thirteen weeks," said Cindy. "I had carried our baby for three weeks, completely clueless to what was going on inside my body. I had the option of waiting it out at home."
"Like I did," said Val.
"I told Jim we couldn't wait it out at home, that we would terrify Brandon and Brenda; especially Brandon, who was scared of everything at that age. Jim said we could leave the twins with family, but I wanted to keep them at home. So we chose the hospital."
"Do you remember how it felt?" asked Val.
"To this day," said Cindy. "I was convinced it was my fault, that I had done something wrong. In my family, you didn't talk about things like miscarriages. Jim's was the same way. But we told those closest to us. I told Paula and Sheila. Jim told his brother Simon."
Paula.
How could Valerie tell Cindy she had unwittingly helped to bury Paula's uncle, alongside the woman who had murdered him?
Valerie couldn't.
She couldn't tell any of them what Abby had said or the reason David had disappeared, because Valerie didn't want to deal with any of it.
She decided to see Curtis one last time.
Donna offered to drive her.
Valerie took Daniel's coffin along, to bury him in the spot she had chosen.
The venue would be opening the following day.
She had put Steve and Kelly in charge.
She wouldn't be there to see the crowd, if there was a crowd.
Seventeen days into David's disappearance, Valerie didn't want to be anywhere but where he was.
"Fuck," said Curtis, slumping into his hardback chair after Valerie had told her story.
"Yeah," said Val. "So I guess this will be our last visit."
"Our last visit?" asked Curtis. "Harrington get me out?"
"He's still working on it," said Val, "like Jonesy and Steve are still out there, searching for David."
"So the reason for our last visit?"
"I thought you were paying attention," said Val. "I'm not your sister."
"So?" asked Curtis.
"So, I assumed you'd think twice about seeing me," said Val.
"Valerie, I don't give a fuck what Abby said," said Curtis. "You think I'm gonna stop thinking of you as my big sister just because you're actually my cousin? Fuck that."
"I ruined your life for nothing," said Valerie.
"Not for nothing," said Curtis. "You're my sister in every way that counts, Val, and you're always gonna be." He sized her up. "What are you planning?"
"What?" asked Val.
"You're planning something," said Curtis. "It's blaring all over your face."
Perhaps to Curtis, but Valerie thought she had done a decent job concealing it from everyone else.
"My only plan is to bury my son," said Val.
"Daniel, son of David," said Curtis. "Sounds Biblical. You gettin' religious on me, sis?"
"If getting religious means hoping your son and his father might be hanging out with angels like Sheila Beevis, then I might be," said Val.
She told Curtis about what Cindy had told her, after Cindy had opened up about her miscarriage.
"Your mother didn't know what to call you," Cindy had said. "She said you cried at every name she chose."
Valerie had been simultaneously interested in what Cindy had to say, and disinterested in hearing anything about Abby.
"She said she called me Valerie after Valerie Harper," said Val. "That she loved Rhoda on MTM."
"She did name you after Valerie Harper," said Cindy, "because when Abby called about something else entirely and I heard a baby in the background, I asked your name. Abby said they hadn't given you one."
Who would give a name to a baby they detested? Valerie had thought.
"So she had an epiphany when she was talking to you," said Val.
"I was carrying the twins then, but didn't know it at the time," said Cindy. "All I knew was that I had constantly been sick, and when I was sick, I would miss my night shift at the hospital to cuddle up and watch episodes of Mary Tyler Moore, the way Abby and I had in college. I suggested Mary, but Abby didn't like that. Phyllis. We both vetoed that. Rhoda. It wasn't terrible, but you cried at that, too."
"Then she said Valerie," said Val.
"I did," said Cindy. "And then I told Abby about my beloved aunt Eugenia, who had recently passed away."
Curtis bowled over in his laughter.
"Why the fuck are you laughing?" asked Val.
"Eugenia," said Curtis. "You've always hated Eugenia."
It had slightly brightened Valerie's dismal world, to learn that there had been one person aside from Victor who had cared about her from the beginning, and that person had been the reason for her name.
She had then told Cindy the reason she had chosen Sidney.
Cindy had been touched.
"If you're gonna crack up like that, I ought to get going," said Valerie. "Donna's waiting in the car."
"Sweet, gentle, tenderhearted, doe-eyed Donna?" asked Curtis.
"Did I say that?" asked Val.
"You did," said Curtis. "You also said she was your boyfriend's annoying ex."
"Well, my boyfriend's gone," said Valerie as she stood, "and Don's actually become a really good friend. When I gave her the chance to be."
"I expect to still see you around here," said Curtis. "I can always use a visit from my sister, whether I stick in this hellhole or don't."
But I'm not your sister, Valerie thought.
I don't know whose I am anymore.
"I said I'd drive you anywhere you wanted to go, Val, but why on earth would you want to come here?" asked Donna, throwing the gearshift of her rental car into park.
"This is the last place I saw his dad," said Val. "I want him buried here."
"Then why did you ask me to come, instead of Steve or Brandon?"
Valerie couldn't tell Donna the real reason. She instead told Donna the reason Donna would want to hear.
A reason that held truth.
"Because you loved David, too," said Val, "and you two have a deeper connection than he had with either of those guys."
"I love D'Shawn," Donna began. "And before D'Shawn, I loved Noah. David seems a millenia ago."
"I loved David," said Val, "with every part of me. But that doesn't mean there isn't a sliver of my heart that doesn't still belong to Tom, and I think it's the same for you with David. D'Shawn may have your heart, but David's in there somewhere, too. Am I wrong?"
"No," said Donna. "You aren't wrong. I just - I don't know if I should intrude on something this private."
"I want you to do it," said Valerie. "Please. I want Daniel buried, but I can't bring myself to do it."
If she timed it correctly, Valerie would have succeeded in her plan the moment Daniel went underground.
"Please, Donna," she said again. "You meant so much to David. I think he'd like that someone who meant so much to him is helping me with something this fucking hard."
"Okay," said Donna. "I'll do it. Will you stay in the car?"
"I'll get to a place where I can see you do it," said Valerie.
"And we'll meet back here?"
"We'll meet at the ocean."
"At the ocean," Donna agreed.
"And Don?"
Donna withdrew from opening the door.
"I'm sorry for every cruel thing I ever did, said, or thought about you," said Val.
It was the last affair she had to get in order.
"Don't worry about it," said Donna. "See you at the ocean."
"The ocean," said Val.
She silently apologized to Donna for tricking the poor girl, one last time.
She stared up at the place where David had fallen, and began her climb.
She had scored enough victories in rope climbing in gymnastics and gone on enough rock climbing dates that climbing up a lighthouse wasn't as difficult as it should have been.
Nor was it easy, primarily because of the protests from her battered body and the inability to grip on as well as climbing required.
She shimmied around to the front of the lighthouse, breaking her way into the first open area.
She climbed the stairs.
Climbed and climbed, unable to force herself to think of anything other than the lighthouse she stood in.
She reached the gallery deck.
She seemed to float towards the edge, as if she no longer controlled her own body.
She didn't.
Memories did.
She kicked one leg out over the edge, then another until she had sidled to the outside framing.
She turned around, facing the ocean that crashed below her as she prepared to release the railing.
She didn't have a grand, eloquent speech prepared. There hadn't been a need for one.
The world had tired of her, and she had tired of the world.
Perhaps her next life would be kinder, if such things existed.
Perhaps she would be kinder.
Genuinely kind, like Donna.
Donna had surely buried Daniel.
Valerie let her fingers of one hand barely graze the railing.
She hadn't been able to tell David goodbye.
He could tell her hello.
She would see her family again.
Soon.
It would all be over.
Finally.
Brandon and Brenda would forgive her.
Eventually.
She couldn't be certain that Steve and Clare would, but the Walshes always forgave.
"You've got to be shitting me."
She didn't dare open her eyes.
"What the fuck, Val?" came the bellow.
She was jerked back, lifted over the edge just when she had been about to let go.
"Fuck you!" she said, smacking at the one who had interrupted her finely laid out plan.
"Fuck me?" he asked. "Fuck me? I fought off a fever for two fucking weeks to make my way back to you, and you were gonna fucking let go? Didn't I prove to you that I'm not willing to live in a fucking world you aren't in?"
She had to be hallucinating. That was the only explanation.
"I thought you couldn't curse in Heaven," she said.
"I thought you didn't believe in Heaven," he said.
"I have to," she said, reaching out her hands. "My boyfriend's there."
"If I'm in Heaven, someone forgot to tell me."
She had never been happier to see those grey-blues.
"Ouch," said David as Valerie tackled him down. "Careful, Val. I'm still healing from the broken ribs."
"Where the fuck have you been?" Valerie swatted at him.
"A lovely Canuck family found me, washed up on the shore," said David, catching her hand. "I've been there, recuperating."
Valerie intended to ask why David hadn't called anyone, but was answered before she could.
"Yours was the only number I could think of, and it kept saying it was out of service."
She hadn't bought another phone. There hadn't been a reason.
"Was out in town today trying to get a boat back here when Jonesy and Steve saw me."
"You left me," she said. "You left me when I needed you most, more than I've ever needed anyone."
"I didn't do it intentionally," said David. "I was just trying to get you free, and your aunt to shut her yap."
Valerie shuddered.
"Can we not call her that?"
"What do we call her?"
"She. We call her She."
"Like She-Who-We-Won't-Name?"
"What?"
"It's a twist on a character in a book series Erin's reading," said David.
"Only Curtis knows what she told us," said Valerie. "I couldn't lay that on anyone else."
"We probably should tell Cindy, at some point."
"How do you plan on telling sweet Aunt Cindy about the body she buried because of her friend's machinations?" asked Val.
"We'll think of something," said David.
Their lips magnetized together, in a kiss Valerie would have become lost in had David's hand not flattened against her stomach.
"Don't." Valerie smacked it away.
"Val?" Rubbing at his hand, David searched her eyes.
"I think Donna's still down there," said Val, dropping her eyes away from David.
"Donna?" asked David. "What's Donna doing here?"
Instead of answering him, Valerie led David out of the lighthouse.
"Donna!" she said, running to her. "I changed my mind."
"You changed your mind?" asked Donna, whose back was turned to them.
"What, a girl can't change her mind?" asked David.
Donna swiveled around so quickly, Valerie thought she might trip over the rocks.
"David," said Donna. "Oh praise to the Lord, David!"
"Hey, Don," said David.
Donna looked at Valerie, as if asking permission.
Valerie gave them the go-ahead to embrace.
"Where is he?" she asked Donna.
"He?" asked David.
"Over there," said Donna, pointing to a specific part of the land surrounding the lighthouse.
Choosing to forego a shovel, Valerie dug at the earth with her bare hands.
"Valerie," said David, "Val." He dropped down beside her.
"Daniel," said Val, "I have to get to Daniel. I don't want him buried here. I don't want any of us to come here, ever again."
"Daniel?" David croaked.
"Daniel Sidney Silver," said Valerie. "Abby's last victim."
She didn't have to elaborate.
With only the face of one who had experienced the death of a beloved to indicate that he had heard her, David helped Valerie dig.
Donna offered her own help, as did Steve and Jonesy.
David and Valerie declined.
The other three stayed at a distance as Valerie unearthed the coffin.
"Daniel," she said, holding the coffin to her.
"Can I," David's speech came out garbled, as if his throat had become clogged, "can I see him?"
"He's tiny," Valerie warned. "Very tiny."
"I want to see him," said David.
"You need to brace yourself," said Val.
"Let me see our son."
David slipped his hand into the coffin and removed Daniel to hold him the way Valerie had.
"Were you alone?" asked David. His eyes hadn't left his palm. "When it - when he -"
"Yes," said Valerie, "and no."
"Yes and no?"
"Yes, as in the person who should have been there wasn't. No, as in Bren and Aunt Cindy were there."
"Probably the best ones to have there," said David listlessly.
"And Kel," said Val. "Kelly was also there."
"Kelly?" asked David, briefly lifting his eyes.
"She was your stand-in," said Val. "But she ended up being a whole lot more than that." Valerie fingered the edges of her shirt.
"I would've been there, little buddy," David whispered. "I would've." He flicked another brief glance at Val. "Did they - did they say why?"
"He didn't have a heartbeat," said Valerie.
"But he did," said David. "We heard it."
"That's what I told them," said Val. "I told them about the blue whale you bought."
"Because I said he was gonna have a large heart, like a blue whale," said David.
Then Valerie had heard it for herself, she told David.
No heartbeat.
"They don't call it a birth," said Val. "It's the big M, an early big M. Maybe I shouldn't have given him a name. But I had contractions, David. I had pains, fucking horrible pains. I pushed him out. I held him. I wanted him to have his own name."
"Then who cares what medical terminology calls it," said David. "You gave birth to our son, Val, and that's how we're gonna look at it."
She didn't know how long they had sat there and mourned together, or how long it had taken before they had both summoned the mental capacity to place Daniel back in the sleek coffin that Dylan had purchased with request for special customization.
"We're gonna re-bury you somewhere we'll want to visit," said David. He gave the coffin to Valerie, who cradled it. "Instead of the shit place your mom was gonna choose."
"Hey, I thought you had died here," said Valerie, "and where you died, so did I."
"Except I didn't," said David, "so we're gonna think of where else to put him. And never come back here. Ever."
"She is dead," asked Val, "isn't she?"
"Seems that way," said David. "Because if she isn't, I'll ensure she is."
Steve came up to them.
"Want me to pound him for you?" he asked Valerie.
"Hello, didn't you hear them tell you my ribs have been healing?" asked David.
"Val's been in the pits of despair for two weeks because of you, while you were across the border getting some R&R," said Steve. "If she wants me to pound you, I'll pound you. Broken ribs and all."
"I volunteer to assist," said Jonesy.
David turned to Valerie for help.
"No one's pounding anyone," she said.
"Whatever you say, Silver," said Jonesy.
"Silver?" asked David.
"I wanted to have the same last name as you and Daniel," said Valerie, "and so Mel and Erin wouldn't be the last of the Silvers. It isn't official or anything…"
"We could make it official," said David.
"Actually," said Val, "we need to break up."
She quickly walked away from David.
"Excuse me?" he asked, running towards her.
"I've been in so much physical and mental pain, all I wanted to do was die," said Val. "I was convinced if I died, I'd see you and Daniel. I can't go through this again, David. I just can't."
"You won't," said David.
"You want kids," said Valerie. "Kids that are born at term. And I can't give you them."
"Can't?" asked David.
"Won't," said Val. "I'm never letting anyone knock me up, ever again. I'll be celibate if I have to."
"You're breaking up with me to try out celibacy?" asked David disbelievingly.
"You broke up with me twice, and then I thought you died," said Val. "Can't I be the one to break up with you, for once?"
"You're forgetting 'fuck you to the fucking Milky Way.'"
"No I'm not. We weren't together."
"What if I don't want to break up?" asked David.
"You think I wanted to break up when you broke up with me, twice?"
"Fine," said David, "we're broken up."
Ignoring David's puppy eyes that defied his statement, Valerie pulled Jonesy aside and threw her arms around him.
"You found him," said Val. "You found the most valuable person in the world."
"It's what I do," Jonesy brushed off. "I find things."
"What, no slip of the hand toward my ass?" Val teased.
"You're insanely smokin' Val, and my bed would always be open to you, but…"
"But?"
Jonesy's head bob in a particular direction finished his sentence.
But you're a mother now, Jonesy had intended to say.
She wasn't, Valerie wanted to say back.
Except she was, her mind argued.
She was a mother. She always would be, to a child who would never have the chance to grow.
Whatever happened between her and David, they had become parents together. She had known the way it felt to carry a part of David around inside her.
To hold a part of David that was equally partly her.
"Inappropriate flirting's also what you do," Valerie told Jonesy, trying to keep her tone light. "Don't let me stop you."
"Inappropriate?" asked Jonesy. "Puh-lease. You want inappropriate? Just look at some of my old colleagues in Washington. I keep it tame, compared to them."
Steve had stopped for a bite to eat when David turned in his seat to tell Valerie that he missed her.
"It's been twelve minutes," said Val.
At twenty, David said he wanted her back.
At forty-five, David said he desperately wanted her back.
Two hours into their breakup, David asked if Valerie was seeing someone else.
"It's been two hours," said Val.
"I still hate him," said David.
"Hate who?" asked Val.
"The person you're seeing."
"The only people I've seen for the last two hours are you and Steve."
"Then I hate Steve."
"Did you call my name, Silver?" asked Steve.
"No," said David.
At two hours and twenty, closer to home, David asked if Valerie would reconsider if he was still single at forty.
"You're twenty-three," said Val.
"And I could be single until I'm forty. Who knows?" said David.
Valerie lifted her eyes to the dusky sky.
"If you're single at forty, then I might consider it," she said.
"Only if you're single, too," said David. "I'm not gonna be the other man."
"If we're both single at forty, then I might consider it."
They stopped to bury Daniel in an acreage of forest located behind the concert venue.
"Much better spot," said David. "We'll get a stone made, so anyone who comes by can know his name."
"We'll be near him every day," said Val.
"And he can hear some of the greatest bands play," said David.
Inside their apartment, whilst removing his damaged shoes, David asked if he had turned forty yet.
"Oh for fuck's sake," said Val.
Announcing their breakup was off, she rounded on David.
He let her place the blame on him that David's insatiable sexual appetite had led to Valerie's anguish.
He let her state false proclamations of the hatred she had for what he had done to her.
He let her beat out her fists on his chest, before he grabbed her face and smashed her lips against his.
They slid down the wall to the carpet, where the only thing keeping Valerie from breaking her celibacy was the knowledge that her body was still in the process of healing.
As was David's.
They could still make out, at any rate.
So they did.
Along with a little bit more no one would consider an act of celibacy.
-x
When it comes to chapters like these, I try to approach them with as much sensitivity as possible.
Whilst I did research the medical side, I focused more on researching the side of the stories of people who have been through an early miscarriage, since it affects people differently and what medical says doesn't necessarily equate to the experience.
Now that the idea of David and Valerie having a family has been approached, will they eventually? I suppose we will have to see.
Sources: Google, Google Images, anecdotes from Marie Claire, Miscarriage Association, and Reddit, along with information from the websites for BabyCenter, CDC, Cedars-Sinai, Lozier Institute, NHS.
(Shout-out to KJ to express my continued gratitude and appreciation, as well as those of you whose review I could respond to directly. KJ, I'm sorry!)
Thanks a million! x