The one reminder she told herself before walking out the door was to not forget the wine.
It stood to reason, then, that she had forgotten the wine.
The brand-new, expensive bottle of elderflower wine bought solely for Sofia's hen party.
She had asked Kai to turn back around when they were halfway to Sofia's. Kai said they could pick a bottle up on the way. Clare said she had raved about this particular wine and Sofia expected it to be at her hen party. She asked Kai if he would find it acceptable to disappoint Sofia.
Kai turned around.
He noticed the slumped form on the sidewalk before she did. As the car headlights began to accentuate distinguishable, discombobulated features, Clare commanded Kai to stop the car.
She raced out.
"Brenda!" she called.
Brenda jumped twelve feet in the air and shrunk more into herself.
"Brenda, it's Clare," said Clare.
"Clare?" asked Brenda. She squinted, repeated Clare's name, and then broke down.
Clare gestured for Kai to step out of the car.
"Brenda, my place isn't far from here," said Clare. "Can I take you to it? It's far too wet and cold for you to be sitting on the sidewalk."
"I - I," Brenda sniffled; though from sleet or misery, Clare could not ascertain. "I killed Dylan."
"What?" asked Clare, certain she had heard wrong.
"I killed Dylan," Brenda repeated. "He tried to touch me. I didn't want him to touch me. I told him to not touch me, but he tried to do it anyway. I shoved him and he fell and hit the bench and I got scared and ran and now; now the ceiling's crashed and I can't - I can't find my way home."
The color of Brenda's lips concerned Clare, as did Brenda's pallor.
"I'm sure Dylan's fine," Clare assured. "Out looking for you."
"He won't be looking for me," said Brenda. "He's a liar who doesn't care."
That was certainly a difference from the last time Clare had spoken with Brenda about Dylan.
She wondered what had happened to distort Brenda's view.
"Hei," said Kai, who kept a respectable distance away.
"Hei," said Brenda. "You're cute. He's cute," she added to Clare.
Kai flashed his award-winning smile.
Literally award-winning.
"Tonight, it is not the most appropriate weather for a seat on the sidewalk," said Kai.
"I ran until I couldn't run anymore," said Brenda. "Then the ceiling crashed and my legs gave out."
"May we take you to the apartment?" asked Clare. "You'll get hypothermia sitting out here. I've got a nice, warm, cozy apartment. You can warm up while I call Dylan and let him know where you are. I'm sure he's been searching for you everywhere, regardless of what may have happened between you two."
Though Brenda permitted Kai and Clare to help her into the car, she requested that Clare please not call Dylan.
Brandon and Valerie were also on that list, as Brenda believed Dylan may be with them.
"They think he's my daughter's father," she told Clare with steaming mugs of hot chocolate warming their respective hands. Kai had stayed long enough to ensure Brenda's injury hadn't flared up and she didn't require medical attention, before going on ahead to Sofia's with the wine as Clare had asked him to do.
"He's not?" asked Clare. "I thought he was."
"He can't be," said Brenda. She drew Clare's fluffy throw closer to her shoulders and blew on her cocoa. "It's literally impossible. He told David's sister - Kelly, I think? - that he left me two years before he went back to LA. And he went back to LA in December. But everyone thinks he is, including Bran and Val. So I don't know who I can trust, because they all believe Dylan's lie."
"That doesn't make any sense," said Clare. "I was in LA two Decembers ago. It hasn't been a full two years yet since graduation and I remember for graduation, you and Dylan couldn't make it so you ended up sending presents to the gang. There was a card that you both wrote things in. Steve treasured his pogo stick. I swear he almost brought it into bed with us once."
Brenda gaped. "You slept with Steve?"
Clare snorted. "Quite a few times. We dated for a while, on and off."
"But you made him sound like a delinquent."
"Love is rarely logical."
"I think Steve's nice. Just immature. And a bit of a chauvinist."
"Yeah, that about sums him up."
"Did you love him?"
Clare didn't think there was any harm in answering Brenda's question with the truth. "More than I ever expected to."
"Do you love him still?"
Clare fiddled with her chocolate-coated pretzel straw. "If I tell you a secret, can you keep it between us?"
"I'll probably forget it right away," joked Brenda.
"Yes," said Clare. "I do love him. I'm so ridiculously in love with him and I can't begin to explain how much I wish I weren't."
"I think he loves you back."
Clare asked what had brought Brenda to that conclusion. Brenda said Steve had pressed her for details of her first visit to Clare's apartment.
"Did he now?" asked Clare.
"He did," said Brenda.
She let out a little gasp of pain and clutched at the side of her stomach.
Clare was immediately on her guard. "Contraction?" she asked. "If you're contracting, I'm calling Dylan. You do not want me around if you go into labor, trust me."
It was not a contraction, said Brenda, but rather a reminder from her child to scale back on the overexertion after a day that had involved more physical activity than Brenda typically underwent.
Clare relaxed.
"Would you like to feel her?" asked Brenda.
"Would that be weird?" asked Clare.
"It would be if you were a stranger," said Brenda. "But you aren't a stranger."
"Then yeah; bizarrely, I would."
Brenda guided Clare's hand until Clare felt the hardened flesh of Brenda's abdomen.
"Should it be hard like that?" asked Clare worriedly.
"It may be round ligament pain, or Braxton Hicks," said Brenda. "You don't need to worry unless the pain worsens and gets closer together."
"I'll keep that in mind," said Clare. "What is it like?" She eyed Brenda's stomach.
"Growing a baby?"
Clare nodded.
"It's the most wonderful and terrifying thing in the world," said Brenda. "It makes you worry more than you may have ever worried. The first time I felt her move around, I realized that even with everything going on, despite this constant fog, my life was still marvelous because she had entered into it."
"How does it feel? The kicking?"
"Like carrying the ocean around in your belly each day and you're the only one who knows it." Brenda lovingly tapped her stomach. "I often wonder if I'll be a good mother."
"You will be," said Clare. "I barely knew mine. She died when I was young."
"I'm sorry," said Brenda.
"People always say that," said Clare, "but it doesn't lessen the pain."
"People said that after the train, too," said Brenda. "I lost track of how many times." She played with her mug. "Did you know my mother?"
"Somewhat. Your parents moved to Hong Kong not long after I started dating David."
"Wait," said Brenda. "You dated Steve and David?"
Clare smiled. "And had a massive crush on your brother, too."
"Didn't everyone," said Brenda. "You dated Steve and David. Val dated David. That Kelly person dated Steve, Brandon, and Dylan? And Dylan dated Kelly and I?"
Clare wondered if she should tell Brenda about the hookups between Dylan and Valerie.
"All accurate," said Clare, deciding she wouldn't step into it.
"Has anyone ever considered how incestuous this group is?" asked Brenda.
Clare laughed. "I mentioned that to Brandon before, but in hindsight, I probably wasn't the best person to bring it up."
Brenda laughed along with Clare. "Did you know Kelly?" she asked.
"We were roommates. Became friends, but I was always closer friends with Donna."
"Donna?"
"She's also David's ex."
"Incestuous," said Brenda.
"You and Donna were really good friends at one point," said Clare.
"We were?" asked Brenda with interest, and then became solemn. "Did my boyfriend have a summer sublet with her, too?"
"Summer sublet?"
"Did he cheat on me with Donna?"
"Not that I'm aware of. You just kind of grew apart, but still kept in touch."
"Oh." Brenda traced the silvery snowflakes drawn into the tablecloth. "Were you around when Dylan and Kelly were together?"
"They were pretty much over by the time I joined the group. Aside from that temporary time when Dylan suddenly decided out of nowhere that he wanted to come between Brandon and Kel, they were barely a thing."
"Did Brandon love her?" asked Brenda.
"I would hope so," said Clare. "Don was helping Kelly plan her wedding to Brandon only last year."
"So Kelly is the ex," said Brenda pensively.
Clare wasn't sure what Brenda meant.
"Was Dylan happy?" asked Brenda unexpectedly. "When you knew him?"
"I only saw him with Toni, but he seemed happy. Not as happy as he was in David's home videos, though."
Brenda cocked her head in confusion.
"David used to have aspirations to be a videographer," explained Clare. "When I was dating him, he showed me some old footage from your junior year. I don't think I ever saw Dylan smile as hard as he did in those videos, including on his wedding day."
"Was he with Kelly in them?"
No, said Clare.
He had been with Brenda.
"I think the pain's lessened," said Brenda after a prolonged silence. She raised from her chair. "What should I do with my mug?"
Clare said she would take care of it and asked Brenda if she would like to lie down.
The moment she heard Brenda's soft noises of slumber, Clare dialed.
"Look," he said, "as much as I would love to gloat about how you've realized you can't resist my glorious body and have caved to the idea of a booty call much-needed for both of us, I don't have time for this, Arnold."
"No, you pig," said Clare. "Am I correct in assuming you're out looking for Brenda?"
Her question initiated an exaggerated silence and then Steve asked, "How did you know?"
"How close are you to my apartment?"
"I could make it in ten. Why?"
"See you in ten," said Clare as she ended the call.
She maintained a close watch on Brenda and found herself once more eyeing Brenda's stomach.
She thought she saw it move.
A fortissimo knock on the door smashed through Clare's cogitation over childbirth and motherhood.
"Shh!" said Clare as she opened the door. "You'll wake her!"
"Her?" asked Steve.
Clare dragged him by the collar into her apartment. "Kai and I found Brenda drenched on a sidewalk. I brought her in so she wouldn't catch hypothermia."
For the first time in a long time, Clare saw a genuine spark in Steve when he said, "Thank you. We've been worried sick. Dylan and Val have been out searching on one side of town, and Brandon teamed up with Andrea to search the other side. Silver stayed at the apartment in case Bren returned there."
"I'm not sure what happened, but Brenda's under the impression that she's killed Dylan and that he's a liar. She asked that I not call him, or Brandon and Val in the event that they were with him."
"He is a liar," said Steve. "Long story, but the short version is he did lie - lied about a lot of shit which you know is bad when I say it. But he didn't lie about what Bren thinks he lied about." Steve paused. "So you called me?"
"She didn't ask me not to, and she had some stomach pain so there's no way she can stay here tonight."
"She didn't go into labor, did she?" he yelped. "It's way too fucking soon!"
"Shh!" Clare repeated. "She said it was just ligament pain or Braxton Hicks, but since I don't know anything about any of that, it's better if Bren goes home. I just wanted to make sure she got warmed and relaxed first so she wouldn't contract in the car."
"So you called me," repeated Steve. "All it took was a little emergency with Brenda for you to admit you need me."
"Oh, grow up."
"I think you mean, ho up. Which I will gladly do. Name the time and place."
"Are you going to take Brenda home, or not?"
"Affirmative," said Steve. "I'd rather not be around if McKay finds out I delivered his kid."
Clare followed Steve, who bent beside Brenda and spoke softly into her ear.
"Bren? It's Steve."
"Steve," said Brenda drowsily. "I killed Dylan," she said, and started to cry.
"After what he told Kelly about you, I'd be happy to help you bury him, but unfortunately, he's very much alive," said Steve. "All he got was a wounded shoulder and a wounded pride, but everyone's worried about you. The cops stopped by and everything. Is it okay if I take you home?"
Brenda stretched out her arms for Steve to pick her up. Thanking Clare for her hospitality and the conversation, Brenda promptly fell back asleep with her hands laced around Steve's neck.
"Thank you again, Clare," said Steve. "I mean it. Who knows where Brenda would have ended up if you hadn't driven by?"
"You should thank Kai," said Clare. "He was the one driving."
"Kai," said Steve out of perturbation.
"What do you have against Kai?" asked Clare.
"Nothing," he said. "Why would I have anything against the gorgeous, rich, brilliant Kai?"
"How do you know he's gorgeous? You've never even met him."
"Val told me he's gorgeous."
"Well, she's not wrong."
"I don't want to talk about Kai," Steve huffed. "Do you want to come along? I can drive you there and back."
"I'll go to make sure everything's fine with Bren, but then I still need to try to make it to Sofia's hen party."
"What's a hen party?"
"Like a bachelorette."
"A bachelorette, you say?"
She knew that glint in his beautiful eye.
Knew it way too damn well.
"You are not crashing my friend's hen party."
"No party is a proper party unless I'm in the room."
"Could you be more of an egoist?"
"Yes. Yes I could."
Clare sat in the backseat, trying to reason with Steve. Brenda's head rested on Clare's lap. Clare's fingers had begun to brush through Brenda's hair the way Clare imagined her mother used to do.
She marveled at the strength Brenda must have possessed to face potential Braxton Hicks and nearly be hypothermic in the same night without any fear.
"You can't go," said Clare. "What if something else happens with Bren?"
"I'll have my phone on me." Steve drove more expertly than Clare recalled him doing the entire time they had been together.
He didn't speed once.
"You won't hear it if you're drunk."
"Hey, uncle Steve showing up drunk to the delivery room would be one for the books," said Steve.
"What books?" she asked. "You don't even read."
"I'll have you know I've been reading baby books with Dylan to prepare for my niece, thank you very much."
Clare was shocked into silence.
"Pussycat got your tongue?" smirked Steve.
"I just can't picture you, willingly reading baby books."
"There's pictures. Detailed pictures."
"And there we have it, folks. Steve Sanders ruins another moment when he almost seemed mature."
"Once upon a time, you loved this goofy fool."
"Yeah well, goofy won't pay the bills."
"How do you know? I could become a clown."
"A clown on a pogo stick?"
"Damn. I almost forgot about my pogo stick."
"Kinda like how Dylan forgot most people aren't mindless sheep who automatically believe fallacies without questioning the logic," said Clare.
"Then you know about the two years?" asked Steve.
"How did he think he could get away with saying shit like that?"
"Better question is, how could Kelly actually believe him when he said it? Brando himself told me that he told Kel that Dylan and Bren had offered to meet up with them during their honeymoon."
"Didn't Kel have amnesia last year? Maybe her brain's still a bit foggy from it."
"I didn't think of that. She's seemed fine since her memories returned." Steve grew more serious. "Do you think there's any chance of Bren's coming back?"
"The brain is a fascinating organ," said Clare. "What it retains and how easy it is to lose everything it retains. I can't tell you that they will, but I also can't tell you that they won't. Some people with serious brain injuries like Brenda's do eventually remember everything, or most things. Others -"
"Don't," finished Steve with a heavy sigh that slumped his shoulders more than his usual atrocious posture. "I expected as much." He flicked a glance over his shoulder before switching lanes. "Just thought I'd ask."
"I can send you more information, if you'd like."
"I would." Steve gifted her with the smile imprinted on Clare's soul. "The Walshes are the first home I ever really knew, and it kills me to see our Bren like this. Even though he's an idiot, it also killed me to see Dylan's reaction when he told us he couldn't find her."
"I'm sure he's been freaking out."
"That's the understatement of the year. Brandon had to talk him out of contacting the American embassy and the foreign press. Silver hid McKay's helmet."
"He was not seriously gonna ride in this weather?"
"He convinced himself he'd have a better chance at finding Brenda on the bike."
"I swear, Dylan's just asking to get in an accident of his own."
"He's had plenty, believe me."
"Hope it's okay that I told Bren what I knew of Dylan and Kelly. She asked and Kai says you should always answer when people with Brenda's type of injury ask a question."
"What'd you tell her?"
"That his obsession with Kelly in freshman year came out of nowhere."
"I have been saying that for years," said Steve. "I think his first overdose rotted his brain. That, and Bren being away in London."
"First overdose?"
"He had another one in January that I'm convinced led to more rotting of his brain." Steve punched out numbers on the car phone.
"Give it to me," answered Dylan without preamble.
"I got her," said Steve. "On my way back to the apartment. She conked out at Clare's and had a bit of pain."
"Thank God," Dylan squeaked. "Pain? Where?"
"Her stomach," said Clare.
"Fuck man, what are you doing taking her to the apartment? She needs to go to the fucking hospital!"
"Bren said it might be Braxton Hicks or ligament pain," said Steve.
"Okay," said Dylan, settling down. "Then we'll be there shortly. Does Walsh know?"
"You're the first person I dialed. I'm going to draw Bren a bath if she wakes up when we get there. The books say that should help," said Steve, impressing Clare in the process.
"Don't make it too warm," said Dylan, adding, "Steve's got her."
"Fucking bless," said Valerie. "What was she doing at Clare's?" she asked Steve.
"She said something about she ran until the ceiling crashed and she couldn't find her way home?" questioned Clare.
"Way to go, asshole," said Val. "You made the ceiling crash."
"Val, she had to know," said Dylan, though his tone came out apologetic.
"Be less of a dick and then there wouldn't be anything for her to know."
"You're not gonna yell at me again, are you?"
"If Bren hadn't been found, I would've spent an eternity yelling at you."
They heard a smacking sound, and then Dylan let out a grunt.
"You okay?" asked Steve.
"He's fine," said Val.
"Yeah, because getting smacked upside the head doesn't hurt or anything," sassed Dylan.
"I'm surprised no one's done it sooner."
"Think Gina's wanted to a couple times."
"That better be the name of Erica's pet."
"What pet would be named Gina?"
"You make it really hard to root for you, McKay."
Dylan asked the proximity of Steve to the apartment.
"On your street," said Steve. "How close are you?"
"Not close enough. But assuming Val doesn't smack me again, I should be able to get there within twenty."
"Val, don't smack him."
"Why not? Someone has to. He told Kelly that he's only connected with two things in his life."
"Bren and Brandon?" guessed Steve.
"Kelly and Toni," said Val.
"Yeah, give him a good smack," said Steve.
"Okay, that one fucking hurt," said Dylan as the call ended.
"Maybe you're right about the drugs rotting Dylan's brain," said Clare.
"Did you just admit I'm right about something?" asked Steve.
"Oh, fuck off."
"Off, or you? 'Cause I'll gladly -"
To Clare's gratitude, the stirring of Brenda interrupted Steve's innuendo.
"Look who decided to join us," said Steve. "Feeling better?"
"I think so," said Brenda. "The pain's dulled and the ceiling's lifted a little."
"Great news," said Steve, giving that rare look of tenderness that Clare loved to see on him. "Next time Dylan upsets you, just run to me instead of away, okay? My place is usually warmer than a sidewalk. And, I've got ice-cream."
"I could use some ice-cream."
"Ice-cream, a bath, and then back to bed?"
"That'd be heavenly."
"Then that's what we'll do."
As Clare watched Steve draw a bubble bath and ignored his suggestive looks, she decided she had been wrong.
Steve Sanders would make someone an excellent husband and father.
Not that she would ever admit as much to him.
xx
He whacked his shin against the car door.
His shoulder. His knuckle. His head. His shin.
He'd be fucking sore tomorrow.
But for now, all Dylan concentrated on was getting inside, to his girls.
He had eventually pulled himself off of the ground and made the disappointing journey to the apartment, where he trundled in to face the anger of a Brandon who would be told the exact reason why Brenda had sprinted.
"Did it ever occur to you, McKay, that in saying you've only connected with two things in this life - those two things being Kelly and Toni, may her sweet soul rest in peace - you also effectively erased any bond you and I ever had?"
Dylan had not, in fact, thought of that.
"First Bren, then me. I guess us Walshes are dispensable to you," Brandon had said before stalking out the door with an equally bothered Andrea.
"Indispensable!" Dylan had hollered to Brandon's retreating back.
"Okay, let's hear it," said Val after staring at Dylan for a good two minutes. "What's your excuse?"
"There's no excuse for that," said Dylan morosely.
"People like you and me always have excuses," she said. "Lay it on me. I'll keep it between us."
"It's gonna sound horrible."
"If you tell, I'll tell you why David broke up with me the first time."
Dylan had to admit a curiosity to that.
He told Val that he had overheard Donna mention to David that she had contacted the twins during Dylan's hospitalization for his second overdose.
"I thought Bren might still reach out, just to see how I was. And I thought for sure Brandon at least would, if Bren was still too mad at me to care," said Dylan. "But when they didn't -"
"You thought your connections were kaput with both of them and decided to fuck it?" guessed Val.
"Something like that." Dylan had banged his knuckle against the table. "If I'd known what was going on with Bren at the time -"
"You shouldn't've needed to."
"I know."
"Alright, get your ass in gear and I'll tell you in the car all about selling David out to Ginger."
"We can leave as soon as Silver gets here. We need someone to stay in case Bren shows up."
David had appeared just in the nick of time, when Dylan's patience had begun to wane.
Dylan and Valerie had cruised every street they came across, as Val, true to her word, told Dylan the events that had occurred to turn her decade-long friendship with Ginger LaMonica into rubble.
Dylan vaguely recalled Ginger. His lack of familiarity with the Buffalo redhead pleased Valerie.
"So David forgave you for selling him out to your ex-best friend enough to want to date you again, and you won't forgive him for helping me?" Dylan had asked.
"He didn't have to agree to get me half-naked," said Val, "or pretend to be interested in sex with me."
"He didn't," said Dylan. "That wasn't the plan."
"It wasn't?"
The plan, Dylan had said, was for David to see if Valerie would choose to drink.
"He must've been caught up in the moment. You both should've been fully clothed when we went in."
"Well, he still tried to have sex with me knowing you two would show up at any moment."
"Yeah, he wasn't thinking straight on that. But tell me this. Did Silver give you the cold shoulder when you asked him to sleep with Ginger?"
"No," said Val after a moment's reluctance. "I gave him it."
"Seems to be a pattern."
"Just like you lying to Kelly and hurting Bren seems to be a pattern," Val had snidely replied. "A concerning pattern."
"Point taken."
Dylan had fretted over how Brenda's break in routine would affect her mental state.
He had pictured her, alone and terrified in the lashing sleet. It had made driving difficult; even more so following Steve's call.
Val had forced Dylan to let her take the wheel.
Dylan hadn't cared how they got there, as long as they got there within the twenty minutes he had told Steve.
With the way Val drove and the shortcuts she took that Dylan hadn't known existed, they had arrived in less.
He had bolted to the door. His shaking hands fumbled with his keys.
They dropped before he could turn the lock.
Val picked them up in a quick sweeping motion. She handed them to Dylan and unlocked the door with her own set of keys.
"Is she still in pain?" he asked the second he saw Steve.
"She said it's dulled," answered Steve.
"What about her head?" asked Dylan. "She was clutching it before she ran."
"She didn't mention head pain."
"Good." Resting his back against the wall, Dylan momentarily closed his eyes and then opened them. "I - I thought she - thought they -"
"She's in the bath and she's asked to see you," said Clare, entering the room.
"She asked to see me? While she's in the bath?" asked Dylan, unsure if Clare's words were a fantasy.
"She did," said Clare. "I don't know why you said the things you said, but if you love her the way you've said you do, then take good care of her. Brenda is really something."
"She is," said Dylan. "I promise I'll never hurt her again."
"Don't make promises you can't keep," said Val.
Dylan glowered at her and staggered towards the bathroom.
He gently rapped on the door.
"Bren?"
"Come in, Dylan."
Even though Brenda was covered in bubbles so that only her head, her neck, and her stomach showed, Dylan tried to divert his attention.
"You wanted to see me?" he asked, obscuring his vision with his hand.
"I wanted to check you were alright," she said. "When you fell, I thought - I thought I'd killed you."
"Takes a lot more than that to kill me," he said. "Physically, that is."
"I won't be retracting what I said."
"I understand."
"Most of it, anyway," Brenda added. "Clare thinks it's possible you didn't lie about the baby."
"I didn't," said Dylan. "You and I were together a lot more recently than two years."
"Then why did you tell Kelly we weren't?"
"If I had an answer for that, I'd give it to you."
"I heard Steve and Clare saying they think your drug use rotted your brain."
"That's certainly possible," said Dylan with the makings of a smile.
"I'm not sure I like you right now," said Brenda. Her hands roamed over her stomach in a soothing manner. "Or even want to be around you."
"I wouldn't wanna be around me, either."
"Why do you do that?"
"Do what?"
"Denigrate yourself all the time. Maybe that's why you do the things you do and say the things you say, because you have ridiculously low self-esteem and you expect yourself to be lowlife algae so you give into that expectation."
"This conversation sounds familiar." This time, Dylan shot her a proper, disarming smile he saw reflected in the mirror. He lowered his makeshift visor. "You were always telling me I needed to work on my insecurities."
"Well, you do."
"I'd ask you to help me with them, but you have enough going on."
"Maybe we can help each other," said Brenda to Dylan's bemusement.
"Does that mean you changed your mind about me not being in your life?"
"Not exactly. I don't know how to feel about you or everything you told me. I don't know if I can trust you. I don't know if I want to trust you, but the fact remains that your snores do block out the train."
Dylan considered protesting that they weren't that loud, but allowed Brenda to continue without rebuttal.
"And I need the train to be blocked out more than I need to be angry with you. So I'd still like you to move into my room."
He moved to sit beside the tub. "Is it alright if I ask what changed your mind?"
Dylan knew full well that when the future Brenda McKay's mind was made up, there was no use in trying to change it.
"Clare told me that you smiled once," said Brenda. "With me. In junior year."
"More than once," said Dylan. "That and London may have been the happiest times of my life."
"If you smiled the way she says you did, you must have loved me then."
"Then. Now. All the days yet unknown."
"Perhaps you had forgotten that. The smiling."
"Perhaps I did."
Brenda held out her hand. Dylan clasped it in his. Brenda moved their joined hands to her soapy stomach.
"I would like to know more about it," she said. "I'd like you to continue telling the stories, to help me rediscover my past, to help me know the events that have molded my identity. I do appreciate your honesty tonight and the courage it took to tell me all of that, but I don't want you to touch me unless I reach out to you. Touching her is the only exception. Can you do that?"
No.
"Yes. I can do that."
It'd be damn hard. Still, he'd make it work.
Brenda asked if there were further bad stories. Dylan said there were; however, he believed they had dealt with the worst of it.
To Dylan, surfer Sarah, cardio funk guy Tim, and even that fucking Rick the Wisconsinite were minor in comparison.
Dylan couldn't be sure whether Brenda would consider their fight in London comparable to Battleship, but he would eventually tell Brenda about that, too.
"I'd also like to see David's videos," said Brenda. "Clare told me he has some."
"Some?" Dylan scoffed. "Guy wore that camera like an appendage. I told him over and over to get it out of my face. He claimed he was making Golden Globe-worthy shit. But if you want to watch those, I'll ask him."
Brenda brought one hand up to Dylan's cheek. He set an intent gaze on every discernible part of her before realigning his eyes with hers.
"Clare hardly knew her mother," said Brenda. "I only know fragments of mine, and don't remember my father at all. I don't want our daughter to wonder about her parentage."
Had Dylan not cried himself out for the night, or possibly for the decade, he would have released a relieved sob.
"If she comes out and doesn't look a thing like me, then I'll agree to the paternity test if you still want it. But only then," he said firmly.
He had considered playing Brenda the voicemail, having her hear in her own words that he had indeed fathered their child.
He had nixed the idea as soon as he thought it, concerned that it would add to her trauma to hear what would have been her final conversation.
"I'll accept that," she said. "And for the time being, you'll only give me lifts if Bran and Val are unable to do so."
Dylan thought about putting both their cars in the shop, but nixed that notion, too.
"I'll do whatever you want," he said.
"You're still a tosser. And a twatwaffle."
"I won't argue that. I shouldn't've argued with you before."
It was only after Brandon yelled at him that Dylan had recalled the other sentence Brandon had said: if she argues, let her.
It had been instinctual to try to get Brenda to listen to him, to counter her claims.
He couldn't do that, not with Brenda's injury.
Dylan scooted their hands across Brenda's stomach, all too aware of what he had again almost lost.
"It's a thing with us," he told her distractedly. "Sprinting. I sprint. You sprint. She might even sprint. Hell, she could be a gold medalist in track and field with the way we sprint. I gave you every reason to sprint." He exhaled a ragged breath. "But please, Bren. Please don't sprint like that again. I didn't care that I fell. All I cared about was finding my girls, and I didn't have a clue where you could be. Or if you - if you were even conscious."
"I won't," said Brenda, likely unaware that her hand had shifted to comb through Dylan's hair. "It hurts too fucking much."
"Physically?"
"That's part of it."
He leant his cheek into her palm, understanding that it had been a dual pain he, too, felt when he sprinted.
"If one of us gets upset with the other, we'll talk it out," said Brenda. "No more sprinting, for either of us. We'll help each other learn to control our emotions. I don't want us to raise her in a tense environment where she expects us to always fight."
"Deal," said Dylan. "No stepparents," he added for good measure.
"I wasn't even thinking about stepparents."
Take that, twatwaffle husband of Brenda's, thought Dylan of the figure he had conjured up in his head that seemed to resemble Brenda's ex-fiancé and Dylan's old enabler, Stuart Carson. She doesn't want your pathetic ass, so stay the hell away from her and our kid.
"I want you to know I won't push you," said Dylan. "You need time to get to know this, us, all over again. You need time to see if you can still like me, if you can forgive me, and I respect that." He paused long enough for Brenda to process his words before continuing. "But you should also know that I won't be giving up on you, on our family, or on our Italian villa. I've given up too many times before. It ain't happening this time. It's not obligation. Doesn't have anything to do with us being pregnant. It's realizing that you are the barycenter, I am the solar system, and there's nothing I'd love more than to have my life revolve around yours."
Or merge with yours, thought Dylan.
"Who said anything about a villa?"
He wondered if he should have permitted Brenda more time to process before attempting another declaration.
"You can't picture us in a villa?" he asked.
"I was thinking more like a tiny apartment."
"Not even our London flat was as tiny as I'm sure you're thinking."
"It's those millions," said Brenda scornfully.
"That's another thing," said Dylan. "I'll never try to buy your love, okay? Never. My old man would do that and as much as I can be like him at times, that is one thing I refuse to do."
"Jack, right?" asked Brenda. "And Iris, your mother?"
"I," his throat clamped onto a cement block, "I didn't tell you that."
"I wanted to know if she had other grandparents. I asked Steve on the way over and he told me. I'm sorry to hear about your dad," said Brenda, and then shook her head with a smile crisscrossing her lips.
"What?"
"Nothing. It's just something Clare said."
"Anytime you want to know about my family, about her family," about our family, he mentally added, "I will gladly tell you."
Brenda asked if Dylan had any siblings.
"One," he said. "Erica, my little sister. She and Iris are clamoring to see you. I asked them to wait until you're ready."
"I would like to meet them. I'll let you know when I am."
"Should we get you out of here before you and our daughter prune faster than a raisin in the sun?"
"I like that play."
"So do I." Dylan grabbed a towel and turned his back on Brenda as he held it out.
He heard the tub draining and felt the towel removed from his hands.
"You can look," said Brenda.
Her stomach appeared even more prominent behind the towel.
"Let's not have any more medical scares." The tip of Dylan's finger grazed over the hill in the towel. "With you, or with her."
"I'll try," said Brenda. "I do want to apologize for one thing."
"You don't have to apologize for anything." Dylan stood fixated on the beauty before him. "I deserved it all."
"You didn't deserve to have me accuse you of manipulating my memories. I'm sorry for that. You have been nothing but patient with me when it comes to my inability to remember."
"You weren't wrong that I manipulated my own, though."
"You aren't the only one."
Despite the temptation to stare, Dylan looked away as Brenda slipped into her bathrobe.
"How do you mean?" he asked.
"I think everyone has been manipulating their memories," she said, tying her robe. "Val. Clare. Steve. Bran. You. Maybe David. For some reason or other, you've all been in denial about what you want and who you love. Did everyone suffer from their own amnesia?"
"Possibly." Dylan marveled at the insight Brenda still carried. "How are your legs feeling?"
"Sore," she admitted. "They ache when I walk."
"Could I pick you up?" he ventured. "I'll only carry you to bed. Wouldn't want you to trip on the way there."
"What about your shoulder?"
"Barely a dent," he said in a half-truth.
Brenda allowed Dylan to lift her in the way a new spouse does across a threshold. Dylan thanked every deity for Brenda's continued capacity to forgive as he cuddled her to his chest.
"I'm gonna eventually get too big for you to carry," she pointed out.
"You'll never be too big for me to carry," he said.
Dylan learnt how to help Brenda dress without looking at her and then tucked Brenda into her bed.
When he was certain she had fallen asleep, he kissed his palm and quickly splayed it against her forehead.
Deciding that he'd check into purchasing an air mattress in the morning, Dylan spread a sleeping bag out on the floor.
After the night they'd had, he would have slept in there even if Brenda had forbade it.
Upon returning to the living room, he was surprised to see Clare and Steve chatting with David and Valerie.
"I don't know what you told Bren to keep her from hating me," Dylan told Clare, "but thank you. I owe you one."
"You don't owe me," said Clare. "Just take care of her, as I said."
"I will," he vowed.
"Just so you know, I don't think it's possible for Brenda to hate you," said Clare. "She was hyperventilating at the idea that she might have killed you."
"She must've been channeling her twin," said Dylan. "'Cause he definitely wanted to."
"No, he didn't," said Val. "He's just furious with you, and rightfully so. 'Cause you're a knob."
"What is this; see how many British insults you can hurl at Dylan night?" asked Dylan.
"My point is, Brandon loves you," said Val. "You've hurt him time and time again, especially when it comes to his relationship with Kelly, and he still loves you. Did you know that he checked on your house every day after you fled LA? He brought in your mail, even."
"I didn't," said Dylan.
"Brandon can be a twerp himself," said Val, "but he's a good guy overall."
"I get knob and he gets twerp?"
"Are you saying you haven't been a knob?"
Dylan couldn't say that.
"I rest my case," said Val.
"I'm hiding that binder from you," said Dylan, to David's amusement. "Has anyone called Bren's lesser half?" asked Dylan.
David said he had, and that Brandon would be there after he refueled his car.
"If Bren and mini McKay are okay," said Steve, "Clare and I have got to get going. We have a bachelorette to attend."
"I have a bachelorette to attend," Clare corrected. "This is far more important, though. Sofia will understand."
"Bren's sleeping," said Dylan. "She's worn both physically and mentally, so she's probably out for the rest of the night. Go to the party. Don't disappoint the bride."
"You heard the man," said Steve. He slung his arm around Clare's shoulders. "Let's go."
"You can give me a ride there, but you are not coming." Clare nudged Steve's arm away.
"Let him go," said Dylan. "He'll be a nuisance around here if you don't."
"He'll be a nuisance there, too," said Clare. "It's a hen party. It's different from your average American bachelorette."
"Lesser of two evils," said Dylan. "Leave Sanders here knowing there's a party he isn't at and his complaining will wake Bren before the train does."
It was Valerie who persuaded Clare to let Steve come along.
Steve departed looking as if he had discovered a room full of scantily-clad women.
Brandon came in with Andrea, giving Dylan the cold shoulder as Brandon went to check on Brenda.
"You sure he loves me?" asked Dylan to Val.
"Give it time," said Val. "You really hurt him. And you hurt Brenda. Bran's number one priority has been taking care of her and our niece. He didn't even know where they were tonight, because you drove Bren away. So give him time."
"Seems to be a thing around here," said Dylan.
"I'll see you bright and early tomorrow," Val told David. "Bring a heap of ideas, because I can't handle another night like tonight with Bren."
She told Dylan goodnight, and then went to her own room.
"Did she just," David gaped in the direction of Val's bedroom, "did she just choose to speak to me?"
"Val will do anything for Bren," said Dylan. "Anything. Like Val said, give her time."
"I'll give her all the time in the world," said David.
"You and me both," said Dylan. "You and me both."
"How tempted were you to drink tonight?"
"Surprisingly, I wasn't. All I could focus on was Bren. Cracking open a bottle never crossed my mind."
Telling David about Brenda's request, Dylan asked if David still had the footage.
"I do," said David, "but it's all at Jackie's. I'll have to ask her for it, and if she mentions it to Kelly -"
"Kelly will figure out something's going on," said Dylan. "Let her. After everything she said about Bren, I don't care what she finds out."
"Not that I'm defending her," said David, "but you said some pretty awful things about Bren, too. If the twins can forgive you -"
"Then Brandon may forgive her," finished Dylan.
"Honestly, I don't know how you or my sister ever thought you could be together," said David. "You've both spent most of the decade too hung up on the Walshes to maintain your attention on anyone else."
"We both fucked up our lives when we fucked over Bren," said Dylan. "We've been trying to make it worth it ever since."
"But not anymore, right?"
"Right. Because it's never been worth it. When it all comes down to it, neither of us truly want the other. This time next year, Bren and I will be married," said Dylan confidently. "Or at least engaged. And we'll stay married until long after they dig our graves."
"Brandon and Kel would've celebrated their first anniversary this year," said David. "What a waste."
"And to think," said Dylan, "you and I could've been stuck back in LA, doing something like fighting over Gina."
"Why would we fight over Gina?" asked David, perplexed. "She's awful to Donna and Janet says Gina's made no secret of flirting with both Noah and Matt."
"How is Janet?" asked Dylan.
"She's the new owner of the Beverly Beat," said David. Watching Dylan's reaction, he added, "You didn't know? Steve called up Rush to tell him point by point why Janet should run the Beat. Looks like he wasn't kidding about sticking around. He might follow you and Bren to wherever you go next."
"We'll make sure our place has a spare room for when he visits, but Sanders ain't living with us."
"Can I be around when you tell him that?"
Dylan told David he could.
"Sanders didn't mention the change in ownership," said Dylan. "It's the perfect role for Janet. Is she keeping it as the Beat?"
"Of course not," said David. "It's La Beverly now."
"La Beverly," said Dylan. "A play on words. I like it."
"Remember Jordan Bonner?"
"Andrea's ex, the one campaigning for the state Senate? What about him?"
"He's dating Janet. They met through her cousin, Ikumi."
"It really is a small world," said Dylan.
"And if you want to hear more LA gossip, all you have to do is talk to Donna, the new gossip columnist for La Beverly," said David. "I'd make a good PR agent, wouldn't I?" he added before saying his own goodnight.
Dylan began cleaning the kitchen and washing the dishes, determined to stay alert until Brenda's terror made its presence known.
When it did, he respected her wishes by comforting her with only Paganini.
Zipping himself into the sleeping bag with extra blankets for additional warmth, Dylan thought he heard the murmuring of his name.
"Dylan," she said again.
"Yeah?" he asked with an internally spoken Baby.
Brenda flung her arm over the bed, dangling her hand beside him.
Lacing it through his, Dylan entered into the hazed world of dreams holding onto the hand of his girl.
His girl who, by some miracle, had already begun to forgive him.
Whether or not she knew it.
-x
Thought of twisting the time frame to include the moments Gina did slap Dylan, but that would have added too many other canon moments in the process that I'd much rather ignore.
On another note, you can't show me David's face when Val mentioned she had a new guy - a David on his wedding day, mind you - and expect me to think David was not still in love with Val at the end of the series.
Sources: Google + the websites for American Pregnancy Association, BabyCenter, MyHealth Alberta, Royal Berkshire NHS Foundation Trust.
(Shout-out to KJ to express my continued gratitude and appreciation. Writing Val and Bren comes easily, primarily because I base it off of the wonderful female friendships I have been blessed with over the years. With Val's animosity towards Kelly and the complex relationship between Bren and Kelly, I also have the experience of those unfortunate types of friendships to go off of. Bren and Val may have initially been created with a glimpse of their childhood friendship and became more in fics, but thanks to the writers, now their close Dynamic Duo was officially cemented on Pete's podcast. Kelly saying in Val's last episode that David told her about what happened with Val's father was also ridiculous! Why on earth would David do that? Answer: The writers were morons.)
Thanks a million! x