Regrets were a foreign concept to her.
She didn't often have them.
She had one, now; that she had made her decision alone.
At the time, it had seemed the best option.
Perhaps she thought letting other people in would allow them to change her mind.
When Steve never returned her call, Clare had debated contacting Donna or Kelly and asking them to coax Steve into speaking with her.
She had then imagined his reaction on both ends of the emotion spectrum and decided that Steve would prefer to not know.
Clare had been terrified that telling her father would hinder any recovery he had made.
It hadn't been one of her easier decisions to go it alone, or to go through it in a small clinic purposely chosen a train ride away in The Netherlands so that it would both be legal and Clare wouldn't be able to comprehend any of the medical terminology spoken to her, but it had been the decision she felt to be the best one.
Clare understood enough Dutch to be able to answer in the negative when asked if she carried any hesitancy.
She had lied, for hesitancy had consumed her.
She had come to the conclusion that she couldn't raise a child by herself. Maybe someday, if she married, divorced, and became a single mother, or chose to raise a child sans marriage, but not then.
Adoption. Clare had considered adoption when first receiving the results.
Adoption meant she would have to carry to term. Adoption meant more medical bills to add on top of her father's that were already amounting. Adoption meant less of a chance of focusing on grad school.
Adoption meant the opportunity to change her mind at the last possible second.
Adoption had not been the right answer for Clare.
She hadn't planned to tell Steve. Perhaps she would have, eventually; perhaps she wouldn't have, had drink not poured out the veritas for her.
Now that Steve knew, Clare expected him to never speak to her again.
The issue was, Clare had committed to help Dylan help Brenda. She wouldn't back out of her commitment just because she ran the risk of seeing Steve.
"You do not have to do this," said Kai. He had been the one person Clare had told when they had become close enough for Clare to consider Kai a confidante.
"I do," said Clare. "Steve and I have our problems, but those problems don't have to prevent me from helping Bren. She needs to keep improving more than I need to avoid Steve."
"Sanders will, as you say, come around," said Kai.
"I don't think he will," said Clare. "And I can't really blame him if he doesn't. He's probably questioning if I ever truly loved him."
"Because of your abortion?" asked Kai.
"No," said Clare. "Because I had one without talking to him first. This isn't a question of choice, Kai. It isn't Steve trying to deny my rights. I don't know how he would have reacted. He might've driven me to the clinic himself; he might've asked me to think about it. The point is, I could've tried harder to find out his reaction. I didn't. He knows it. I know it."
"This should be a relief to you," said Kai. "You have finally managed to get Steve Sanders to leave you alone. Isn't that what you wanted since the moment he stole your notes?"
"I thought it was," said Clare. "And then I saw him; with Bren, with Val."
"This made you jealous?"
"Steve is a sweet guy, Kai. I mean, uber sweet. He would do anything for his friends. Anything, even driving out late to pick up Val after a binge or Bren after a scare. You know where he went with Brandon?"
"Where?"
"Estonia, all because Brandon had a story to do there. He's supported David by letting David move in with him. He's been by Dylan's side throughout this whole thing with Bren. You should see the way Steve is with Donna. I think he might've even gotten over Kelly."
"You say you do not love this Steve, but your words are telling me otherwise," said Kai.
"It doesn't matter," said Clare. "Steve's probably told everyone by now and none of them, except Val and Bren, will want anything to do with me."
"Why except Val and Bren?"
"Because Val once pretended to have an abortion and because Bren…Bren strikes me as someone who'd understand."
"And Kelly? Would she understand?"
"She would, but she's so close with Steve that I think she'd be more focused on how it affected him. Same with Andrea. And Brandon."
"Donna?"
"Donna's Catholic, one of those ones that had sworn virginity until marriage. She's struggled with her faith and her place in the faith, but it's deeply embedded in her. I think if anyone was against this, it'd be Donna. It goes against everything her family taught her, and she holds her family values way too close. Otherwise, she would've kicked her mother out of her life years ago instead of continuously trying to please the implacable Felice."
"I see." Kai silently considered before speaking again. "Dylan?"
"Dylan," Clare paused, "I'm not sure what Dylan would think. He's one of the more liberal ones in their group, but you can tell family obviously means a lot to him. And Steve's part of his family, whether or not Dylan chooses to verbally acknowledge it."
Clare couldn't ascertain if Steve had told any of their friends when she walked in with Kai to meet for rehearsal.
Donna and Kelly were both friendly, as was Andrea.
It was Valerie who gave Clare a strange look, like she knew but wasn't sure if she knew.
"When Steve picked us up," said Val, "did you tell him something completely unexpected about Paris?"
"If I did?" asked Clare.
"If you did, I don't know anything about it." Valerie pressed her thumb and index finger together and slid them across her lips in a zipping motion.
"But if you did know anything about it?" Clare hedged.
Val unzipped her lips.
"I'd support you," she said, then re-zipped them.
Steve certainly hadn't told Dylan, Clare decided when Dylan warmly greeted her.
"Okay, listen up!" He clapped his hands together. "We've got about two hours until I meet Bren, so we're gonna run through this until we get it right. Consider this your dress rehearsal. Donna and Kelly have agreed to be our audience. Yes, Val?"
Valerie lowered her raised hand. "What if I don't want to perform in front of Kelly?" she asked.
"Then perform for Donna," said Dylan. "Next?"
"If I forget my lines?" asked Andrea.
"Andrea, you were class valedictorian and, other than Bren, memorized better than any of us," said Dylan.
"But if I do forget?"
"Kai has cue cards." Dylan gestured to Kai, who handed the cue cards to Kelly.
"Hi," said Kelly.
"You're not his type!" called out Clare and Valerie.
"I'm just saying hi," said Kelly.
"Hei," said Kai.
"We'll hold the cue cards," said Donna.
Clare followed Kai's lead until Clare had her lines down perfectly.
"I can't do this," said Andrea.
"Yes, you can," said Dylan.
"No, I can't. This isn't like when Brenda, Donna and I performed during summer school. Bren's a professionally trained actress now, and there has got to be a part of her that recognizes excellent acting versus abysmal acting. I'm no actress, Dylan."
"We'll do it." Donna stood to join Andrea. "We just need a dress that's a little bigger in the skirt to cover me and I can stand with Andrea in case she flubs a line."
"Whatever works," said Dylan. "Can you get a bigger skirt by tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow?" asked Donna. "Tomorrow's pushing it."
"The sooner, the better," said Dylan. "Bren can use the distraction."
"From Jim, or from Luca?" asked Val.
"Luca?" asked Kelly. "Who's Luca?"
"I don't want to talk about Luca," said Dylan.
"Okay," said Donna. "Then what happened with Mr. Walsh?"
"I don't wanna talk about that, either. In fact, let's not chat at all. Break's over. Back to work."
Clare and Kai had invited Donna out for dessert when they noticed a familiar face sitting in one of the booths.
"Is that Brenda?" asked Kai.
"With Luca?" asked Clare.
"So that's Luca," said Donna. "Oh, he's dreamy."
"C'mon," said Clare, "let's go join them."
"Hey, Bren!" said Donna in her usual sunny manner, tinged with just a dash of irritability.
As Donna didn't seem envious in the slightest, Clare took Donna's tone to mean that Donna was irritated on Dylan's behalf.
"Donna, hi." Brenda projected the appearance of someone who had just stumbled into the light after centuries of being enshrouded by the dark. "Clare. Kai. What are you doing here?"
"I'm wondering more what you're doing here," said Clare. "Are you two on a date, Bren?"
"No, I -"
"Bren came in for scoop and stopped to say hello," said Luca in crisp English. "I noticed she looking unwell. Suggested she sit down."
"Unwell? Are you okay, Bren?" Donna's hand shot out as if to offer Brenda comfort, but curled into a loose fist in a telltale sign that Donna had reminded herself of Brenda's sensitivity to touch.
"As okay as I can be when heartburn hits," said Brenda. "It's just heartburn; I swear," she told Clare. "Luca had them mix warm milk and honey for me and it helped a lot."
"Even still," said Clare, "I think we'd all feel more comfortable if we got you home. Shall we?"
"Bye, Luca," said Brenda as she hooked one arm through Clare's and the other arm through Donna's.
"Goodbye, Brenda," said Luca.
Kai told Clare he would stay with Luca and loaned Clare his keys.
"Wow," said Donna. "Your boyfriend is so cool. But it's odd."
"What's odd?" asked Clare.
"Well, I work with a lot of gay guys in the industry," said Donna.
"And?"
"And Kai; he - oh, I guess I must've misjudged him."
Brenda lay her sluggish head on Donna's shoulder.
Unsure what to do, Donna looked at Clare.
"She can get like this after a long day," said Clare. "Let's find a bench and sit her down. Once Bren's rejuvenated, we'll get going."
They lay Brenda down with Clare's jacket as her pillow and stood speaking in a low murmur nearby.
"Do you think Bren might be starting to feel closer to me?"
Donna's eyes shone with a fierce hope that Clare didn't want to tear asunder.
"I don't know, Don," she answered honestly. "It's hard for Bren to know how she feels about almost anyone."
"But she feels comfortable with you," said Donna.
"How can you tell?" asked Clare.
"You asked about taking her home and she agreed. And she knows Kai. Do you spend a lot of time with Bren?"
"I help Steve take care of her sometimes. I can tell you Bren doesn't rest her head on just anyone's shoulder, no matter how worn out she is."
"Then she does have some inkling," said Donna. "I miss her. A lot."
"She's right here, Donna."
"Technically, yeah, but," Donna worried her lip, "will Brenda ever be okay, Clare? I mean, truly okay? Like Kelly was?"
"I can't answer that. Every patient with traumatic brain injury is different. Can you love Bren how she is?"
"I do love her how she is," said Donna. "I'm just not sure how she feels about herself."
"Then we just keep helping her as best as we can," said Clare.
"As best as we can," echoed Donna. "Will you tell me why Steve won't talk to you?" she asked.
"I won't, but I'm sure Steve will be more than happy to tell you if you ask," said Clare.
"I've asked. He won't tell me, either. Or Kelly."
It was all Clare could do to not start worrying about Steve's mindset, whether he had bottled it all up or at least told Brandon.
She instead concentrated on churning out a performance worthy of a bonafide West End star sitting in the audience.
Clare realized that she, like Andrea, was no actress.
But Clare had perfected the art of pretending, and pretend she would.
As she had done since the moment she had left California with a fitful sleep until she had touched down in Le Bourget.
xx
The apartment had become tainted.
Even their bedroom had become tainted, with the taunting words of Jim hanging over the ceiling as leftover clouds do following a vicious thunderstorm.
Dylan hadn't asked for particulars on how Jim had been persuaded in leaving. He had stayed with Brenda and Valerie at the apartment of David and Steve until they had been told the coast was clear to return.
As a distraction, Valerie had suggested Brenda show Dylan what they had learnt in the class.
Brenda had said Dylan needed his rest. Dylan had said Brenda was all the rest he needed. Brenda had noted the level of cheese in Dylan's comment.
Nevertheless, Brenda had sat backwards in a chair and pushed out her back towards Dylan.
Following Valerie's instructions to the letter, Dylan had pressed his hands against Brenda's sacrum.
"How's that?" he had asked.
"Weird," Brenda had answered. "I'm not used to you gripping that close to my ass."
"Oh, you were definitely used to it before," Dylan had said. He had added a level of sultry to his tone and brought it closer to Brenda's ear. "We could get you used to it again."
Valerie had moved them on to the next exercise.
Dylan had held Brenda as if in a dance, except that her arms had been extended against his neck, her body had been slumped, and her head had been bowed.
Dylan had turned the exercise into another dance as he began to hum.
Brenda had started humming along, until their hums mixed into the sweetest melody.
They had been in the middle of their third exercise when Brandon walked in to tell them Jim had left.
Brenda had stood from where she had been squatting against Dylan's lap with her legs spread out, which Dylan considered might have been his preferred labor position.
Brenda hadn't said anything for the rest of the night. Dylan had anxiously awaited for her to speak to him the following morning, which had faded into afternoon, and then dusk until Brenda spoke.
"Did we sing together?" she asked him.
The question threw Dylan off-guard.
"Yes," he said. "I mean, no. Well, kind of."
He told Brenda about singing karaoke with Brandon as Brenda stood between them. He told her about the time the London crew had planned a karaoke night, only for Brenda to catch a bad case of laryngitis the day before.
Brenda seemed enraptured, but Dylan didn't expect her to set up a karaoke night.
Or to invite the whole gang to it.
"Donna and Kelly won't be here much longer," said Brenda. "We should all do something fun before they leave. There isn't a whole lot I can do right now, but I can do karaoke."
"I'm just not sure pairing Silver with Val is the best idea," said Dylan, looking over the sheet Brenda had drawn up with Donna. "And shouldn't Steve be with Clare?"
"Clare can't come," said Brenda. "Do you know what's going on between her and Steve? All Clare will say is…well, Clare won't say anything about it and Steve won't, either. I think they had a nasty fight."
"Why do you think it was a nasty fight?"
"Because both of them change the subject too quickly when you ask. Before, they would at least talk to each other. Now, they won't even see each other."
"You could try asking Brandon. If something's going on with Steve, Brandon usually knows."
"He's not telling."
"Then try not to think about it. Steve and Clare are both adults who can work through their own issues."
"But they're our friends," said Brenda. "And I don't like to see our friends so sad."
"You have a good heart," said Dylan, placing his hand on Brenda's chest for emphasis. "Could be the largest I've ever known, but sometimes our friends just need to figure things out on their own, okay?"
"So I shouldn't pair Bran with Kelly?" Brenda's eyes locked onto Dylan's hand.
"That one's fine, but can you explain why you have Luca with Donna?"
Or why you invited Luca at all, Dylan wanted to add.
"He was supposed to be for Andrea, but since Clare can't come, I put Andrea with Steve. So now Luca's with Donna."
"I don't see Ivan on here."
"Ivan and Kai are out of town at a work conference. Luca's the only one available."
"Here's an idea. How about you invite Alina?"
"And pair Alina with Brandon and Kelly with Luca?"
"Not exactly what I had in mind." Dylan zeroed in on Brenda's name. "Why are you flying solo?"
"Because I'm a professional singer," said Brenda. "Or was. Brandon said I did a musical last year."
"Little lady, if you're making us all pair off for karaoke, then you gotta pair up with someone, too."
"I'm already paired up with someone," said Brenda smartly.
"Baby girl doesn't count."
"Alright, then I'll pair up with Donna."
"Who am I gonna pair up with?"
"I figured you wouldn't want to do it."
"I did it before."
"I assumed I'd forced you into it."
"A good guess," said Dylan as he crossed out Brandon's name and penned in his own name beside Alina's.
"Alina?" asked Brenda incredulously. "You're pairing up with Alina?"
"Unless you've got a problem with that," said Dylan smoothly.
"Nope, no problem." Brenda crossed out Kelly's name beside Luca's and added her own.
"You and Luca, huh?" asked Dylan.
"Unless you've got a problem with that," said Brenda.
"Nope, no problem," said Dylan in the same casual-on-the-surface, but boiling-underneath tone that Brenda had. "It's on, baby," he added.
"Oh, it's so on," said Brenda.
Each piece had to flawlessly connect, David told Dylan.
They were waiting for Kelly and Donna's primping session of Brenda to come to a halt. Dylan had protested, saying Brenda always looked luscious and didn't require primping. Brenda had insisted that if she was going to film an audition tape on camera, she had to look Hollywood-ready. Dylan said Brenda had been born Hollywood-ready.
Brenda had evidently decided that was Dylan's way of trying to hurry her up, and had locked him out of their bedroom.
David prepared his equipment. Dylan intently watched David's movements, noting each connection and adjustment in the event Dylan decided to take up filming Brenda himself.
"You're not seriously letting Brenda sing with Mr. Blue-Eyed German, are you?" asked David as he fiddled with some gadget he had said was meant to help eliminate poor lighting.
"Firstly, does anyone 'let' Brenda Walsh do anything, brain injury or no brain injury? Secondly, how do you know he's blue-eyed?" asked Dylan. "Or that he's German?"
"Oh, because Val made sure to delay the music session yesterday to talk to Bren all about Mr. Allegedly Gorgeous German," said David's sharp, embittered tongue.
"Chin up, Silver. Val's clearly pressing every button you have, and there's no way Luca König is going to get Bren to fall for him. If anything, hanging around Luca will only help Bren realize how much she wants me."
"We'll revisit this in two years when one of our girls is married to the guy."
"It'll be your girl," said Dylan. "Won't be mine."
"It won't be mine, either," David huffed. "Did Jim really take off?" he asked.
"Just left, without another word. I don't like it, man. It was too easy. Jim's planning something."
"What do you think he's planning?"
"I don't know, and I don't want to know."
To the ignorant eye, it would have seemed that Brenda had formed an easy connection with the camera.
Dylan, however, noticed the tiniest flick of her eye as she looked beyond the camera, to him standing directly behind it with a batch of premade cue cards if she faltered.
Pride, relief, jubilation; they all pummeled him when Brenda didn't ask for a single cue card and perfectly nailed her audition.
The audition tape emailed off, the set of keys to their new home received, Brenda's palpable joy had her jumping into Dylan's arms without second thought.
He spun her around. Their noses meshed together as he set her to her feet.
A hair's breadth more, and he could have claimed her lips.
"I can't stop thinking about my father," said Brenda, ruining the moment.
"Don't." Dylan caressed Brenda's cheek.
"He said he wouldn't 'let you' raise his grandchild," said Brenda. "What does he mean by that?"
"Jim talks out his ass," said Dylan. "Lots of words. Few actions. Don't worry about him."
But Brenda remained worried.
As did Dylan.
He hoped their karaoke night would serve as a nice distraction.
He didn't plan to speak with Luca, who pulled Dylan aside before the others showed.
"I am a little perplexed," said Luca. "Brenda; she is in relationship with you, yes?"
"Why do you ask?" asked Dylan.
"Brenda ask whether I would mind dating someone who is pregnant," said Luca. "It is not something I have done before. I not normally consider it, but it's -"
"It's Brenda." Whilst Dylan fully understood Luca's sentiment, that did not stop him from imagining Luca's instant defeat in a jousting tournament.
"Yes, she is one of kind," said Luca. "You are together?"
"We are," Dylan hesitated, "not," he reluctantly added.
Damn his hookups in California. He wouldn't have been in the predicament he found himself in now if he'd been with Brenda instead of dating Gina, sleeping with Kelly, or hooking up with one of the other women he'd found in the state.
If Brenda dating someone else brought Brenda back to him, then Dylan had trouble shutting Luca down.
That didn't mean he couldn't raise Luca's doubts.
"But Brenda; her child is yours?"
"Yes. Her child is mine. Bren can have her fun," said Dylan. "Take her out if you want. Show her a good time. Fuck knows she deserves it. But know this; at the end of the night, it's me she's coming home to, and soon, she'll realize it's me she wants to show her a good time. And believe me, I'll be showing her one whether you date or not," Dylan emphasized. "Don't think you'll be overly pleased about dating a woman with a curfew who'll automatically reach for my hand when her contractions hit," he threw out as he retro-pedaled.
The bar beckoned. Dylan drew in a breath and sought out Brenda, who stood almost obscured by the other girls.
"Your boyfriend thinks we're together," he told her, tapping his fingers against her hips.
"Boyfr - oh, Luca," said Brenda. "He asked you, then?"
"He mentioned you'd brought it up, yeah."
"It just kind of slipped out. I didn't intend -"
"Hey, if you want to date a guy who will probably have the girls drape all over themselves when you go out, don't let me stop you," said Dylan with a shrug he hoped was convincing enough. "But I did tell him about your curfew."
"I could've done that." He thought he heard a touch of regret in Brenda's voice. "You don't mind, do you?"
"Mind? Why would I mind? It's just an experiment, right?" asked Dylan. "Change of plans, Val. You're with me." He snagged Valerie's shoulders. "Unless Brenda minds," he added.
"Mind?" Brenda squeaked. "Why would I mind?"
"Great," said Dylan with faux enthusiasm. "Neither of us minds. Worked out."
"You're not really gonna sing with me, are you?" asked Val under her breath as they separated from the others.
"Of course not," said Dylan. "I'm trying to help Bren figure out how she feels about me, not re-convince her that you and I are a thing."
"Then why -"
"Because, Val, you're gonna cash in on the favor you owe me."
"I owe you a favor?"
"You've owed me a favor since the moment I let Bren believe I knew all along she was pregnant. Time to pay up."
"And how do you plan for me to pay up?" asked Valerie, both irked and impressed.
"I don't care how you do it, just so long as you make sure Luca misses his slot. And don't hurt Bren in the process," added Dylan as a precaution.
"So no bathroom sex with Luca," said Val. "Got it."
"Don't hurt Silver, either."
"If you eliminate sex and mouth-to-mouth interaction, you're not giving me a whole lot to work with, Dyl."
"You'll figure it out."
"Why don't you just tell Bren you're not okay with her dating other people?"
"Let's see what name she'd bring up first: Kelly, or Gina."
"Ah yes, your dickwadiest of moves."
"What I need to do instead is help Bren see why she and I are ineluctable, and why she and König aren't. You said Bren thinks I'm into her because of our kid. Well, Bren thinks she's into me because of our kid. So all I have to do is show her all the reasons we're into each other that don't have anything to do with our kid, and then she won't be even the tiniest bit interested in anyone else."
"Kai said we're almost ready to perform," Valerie reminded him.
"That's a start, but I need bigger. Bren and I need to get away, just the two of us. Can you casually mention it to her?"
"Drip-drop the idea in her head until she thinks it was hers so her fears will fight it less?"
"Maybe."
"Easily. Now," Valerie kinked her neck, "let me work on Luca."
"I'm going to fill Silver in."
"Damn, Dylan, you're really taking all the fun out of it."
"Tell me you feel nothing for David and I won't tell him about this."
"I feel nothing for David," said Val robotically.
"You can't even lie convincingly," said Dylan.
"He broke up with me, twice," said Val. "Why would I still want him?"
"Great question," said Dylan. He found Brenda in the crowd, who quickly diverted her attention as if she hadn't been staring at him. "If we could control our hearts, Val, I may have never made a move on my best friend's sister."
"May have?"
"Well, she was hot."
Steve and Andrea brought down the karaoke bar with their rendition of a Queen song. Brandon sang with Donna first and then Alina, causing two different reactions in Kelly.
"You're not gonna sing with Luca?" asked Dylan.
"After being with you and with Matt, the last thing that's gonna help me get Brandon back is by singing with some guy just because he sang with Alina," said Kelly.
"So you do want my brother back," said Brenda as she approached. "I knew it!"
"Please don't tell him," said Kelly.
"We were just -" Dylan began.
"Talking," said Brenda. "You don't have to justify yourself. It's not like we're together or anything, and plus, you're about to sing with Val."
"Oh, I'll sing, alright. Aren't you and Luca up next?"
"We are." Brenda scanned the crowd. "I should go find him."
"You do that," said Dylan.
Kelly eyed him dubiously.
"What?" he asked.
"I buy you being okay with Bren singing with Luca as much as I buy it when Steve tells me nothing happened between him and Clare."
"Then go get Steve to try to tell you about Clare."
"Might wanna work on your facial expressions," said Kelly. "Right now, you're wearing the one you had the day Bren almost married Stuart, like Bren personally cut your heart out of your chest and fed it to a pack of starving wolves. Don't think I didn't notice."
"What about this one?" asked Dylan, trying to modify his expression.
"The one you had when you saw her with what's-his-face," said Kelly.
"Rick," growled Dylan.
"If you don't want Bren to think you're jealous, don't think of Luca as if he's another Rick or Stuart. Think of him as the guy from the aerobics class."
"The one Bren kissed?"
"The one Bren kissed, told you about immediately, I went on one lousy date with, and then neither of us ever saw him again," said Kelly.
"I'd rather think of Luca as Tom," said Dylan.
"Who?" she asked.
"Exactly," he said. "And you'll think of Alina as -"
"Another Melissa," said Kelly.
"Who?" asked Dylan.
"I don't think even Brandon knows," said Kelly. "She was just one in a long line of girls I watched him get with in high school while he convinced himself we were too platonic."
Dylan raised both eyebrows.
"Yes, I do realize it came full circle," said Kelly. "He was faking then and he faked it again when he said the same thing at our wedding."
"You could always get Brandon up for a third song."
"Maybe. Except if Brandon likes this one, really likes her, it's going to take a lot more than singing with him to turn his head. The problem is, Alina's really great with Bren, so I can't hate her. Even if I could, her findings had greatly impacted the world of psychology before she even graduated, so I might actually…admire her?"
"Could be worse," said Dylan. "Could be Emily."
"Oh God, Emily," Kelly shuddered.
When her name was called, Brenda headed towards the makeshift stage, alone.
"I seem to have lost my partner," she told the crowd. "But don't worry. I'll just sing by myself."
Not that song, Dylan thought as the chords picked up.
He pushed through the crowd. Doing his best to avoid being spotted by Brenda, he paid far more than he should have just for a microphone.
"Not gonna sit around and cry," sang Brenda, "when I could be making promises."
"Feels so good," Dylan cut in, "more than right. I have a feeling that someday, there's gonna be a you and I."
Not to be shaken, Brenda continued right on singing.
So did Dylan.
The crowd screamed adulation of their duet, but Dylan could tell Brenda wasn't as pleased.
"What was that about?" she asked. "You were supposed to sing with Val."
"And you were supposed to sing with Luca. Guess plans changed again," said Dylan.
"I could've sung by myself."
"If you wanted to do that, Bren, you would've chosen a different song."
"I didn't choose the song. I asked the song guy to choose for me, and that's what he chose."
"You still knew the words," said Dylan, undeterred.
"I don't know what you mean," said Brenda.
"Your head doesn't, but your heart does." Unspoken communication dared Brenda to sever their perfervid eye contact. Dylan tried to will into Brenda's muddled head the memory of a not-so-farewell party, a declaration against cameras, and the first time Brenda announced she had been late. "If your heart knows that song and the part it played in our relationship, then it's just a matter of time until your heart's in agreement with your head."
"In agreement about what?"
"That Luca König isn't the guy for you. That picturing me with anyone else makes you ache for a much bigger reason than you think. Let your heart lead your head, Brenda, like it's done so many times before."
"What happened to Luca, Dylan?" asked Brenda.
"Beats me," said Dylan.
He inquired with Val later on, who told him that Luca had been called away by an emergency with a patient.
"Legit emergency?" asked Dylan.
"Who's to say with an on-call pediatrician?" asked Val.
"Thanks, Val," said Dylan. "Are you officially on board with Bren and I now?"
"I'm officially on board with Team Keep-Luca-Single," said Val. "David's been with other people since we broke up. No reason I can't, even if there is the teeniest, tiniest, hardly existent possibility that I may still consider maybe taking him back, in the far future so far off they aren't even considering calendars for it yet."
"If there's that little of a chance, then you might want to stop glancing at Silver every time he looks away," said Dylan.
Brenda was getting better with handling her emotions, Dylan realized when Brenda went about their routine as if no argument had occurred.
The only difference being, Brenda had started reading to Dylan.
Even poetry, which Brenda clearly still disliked.
Dylan debated on blindfolding her, but decided that walking a blindfolded Brenda down an old flight of stairs wasn't the brightest of ideas.
"Don't peek," he said as he walked in front of her. "I've got you, okay? I promise."
"I know we're going downstairs, but you didn't even let me see what's upstairs."
"You don't recognize these stairs?"
"Not when I can barely see them. Wait." Brenda stopped. "Hang on. I do know these stairs. They're the -"
"The stairs to your favorite part of our bookshop," said Dylan. "Yes."
"Our bookshop?"
"Well, I figured it could be ours, what with me buying it for you and everything."
Brenda gasped.
"You bought out Reijo?"
"Reijo was already selling. I just upped his expected price a bit."
"What are we going to do with two shops, Dylan?"
"We don't have to do anything with the bookshop right now," he said. "It's ours either way. We could leave it as a private getaway for you, or we could open it up and you could run it. You think about it. In the meantime, it's showtime."
"Showtime?"
Dylan gave the signal and helped Brenda over to a small table carved into the wall, where Steve arrived to lay out their meal.
"Dinner and a show," said Dylan.
"Didn't we already do this?" asked Brenda.
"That was a dance," he said. "This is a show. And the first rule during a performance is -"
"No flash photography," said Brenda.
"Well, there's that, but also?"
"Silence from the audience." Brenda shushed herself.
She guffawed as Andrea, Valerie, and Clare came out in their costumes.
"What'd you make them do?" asked Brenda.
"Who said I made them do anything?" Dylan accepted the bottle of sparkling juice from Steve, who ensured to look anywhere but at Clare.
"Lingonberry again?" asked Brenda.
"This stuff is good," Dylan dragged out.
"A little too good," she said. "You'll barely drink anything else." Brenda glanced at the corner. "Is David filming this?"
"Just ignore him," said Dylan. "He claims it's for posterity."
Brenda mouthed along to the words as the women spoke them.
"I know this," whispered Brenda. "It's Chekov, isn't it? Three Sisters?"
"You're remembering?" asked Dylan.
"I had Brandon read it to me while I was in hospital," said Brenda. "He asked what I wanted to hear and I wrote down that. I didn't know why."
"I think I can tell you why," said Dylan. "If you want to know."
"I do."
"Two words, Bren: Howard's pub."
"Howard's pub?"
"Howard's pub," said Dylan.
His plan was working. David and Valerie's music sessions with Brenda were working.
It was all coming together, including preparations for the move.
"Dylan McKay?"
Dylan zeroed in on the pressed button-down and freshly polished leather dress shoes accompanying the man's no-nonsense, East Coast-tinged tone that had barged in on his otherwise pleasant afternoon.
Dylan wasn't well-versed on his accents. Nor could he pinpoint the exact region belonging to the man's voice, but he did know an uppercrust Dartmouth alum when he heard one.
What a Dartmouth man in professional attire was doing standing at his door in the northern regions of Europe, Dylan could only guess.
And he was damn sure his guess was correct.
"Who's asking?" He kept his tone light, unaffected by the anxiety that stirred within him.
A manila envelope was shoved in front of Dylan's face.
"You've been served," said the man, and walked off with a tip of his hat.
"Served?" asked Brandon, spinning around with a stack of plates that he had been packing. "Who'd be crazy enough to sue you?"
Dylan skimmed over the paperwork in rapid fire before smacking it down to the floor.
"Your fucking father!" he raged.
"What'd he do this time?" Having seen Dylan angry in enough instances that he was hardly fazed by the outburst, Brandon resumed packing.
"He's suing for guardianship of Bren."
"He's - he's what?" Brandon's pretense of calm quickly melted as the remaining plates in his hands shattered.
"He's suing for guardianship of Bren," Dylan repeated, this time more slowly. He reached for the broom and dustpan and began sweeping out his rage. "Jim wants to play with fire? He better hope he doesn't get scorched by the flames."
"What the - can he do that?"
"He's saying Bren can't take care of herself. That her decision-making capabilities are impaired." Dylan gripped the broom with his armpit to use both hands for air quotes. "That her 'carers aren't looking out for her best interest and are manipulating her emotions in their favor.'"
"Carers? Doesn't that include me?" Brandon wore the face of one who had been betrayed by someone he trusted.
A feeling Dylan knew all too well.
"Sure does," said Dylan. "Jim can't force Bren to leave me, he can't force me to talk her into leaving, so he's gonna make the court force Bren to leave. Jim gets guardianship; he gets to dictate who's around Bren. He's gonna take my family to fucking Hong Kong and ensure I never see them again!"
"I don't understand what my dad has against you," Brandon stammered out. "I mean, yeah, you can be an asshole, sometimes a real dic -"
"Thanks, Jones."
"But you aren't that awful, usually. Why does he want you out of Bren's life so badly?"
"Because loving me taught Bren how to stand up to Jimbo, and he's never gotten over it," said Dylan. "You think you've got control issues, Brandon? They ain't nothing compared to your father's."
"He said something to you, didn't he?" Brandon's brows creased. "What you were talking to him about. You know you can tell me."
"Later. First, we gotta make sure Jim doesn't win."
"How are we gonna do that?"
Dylan leant towards the speaker phone.
"So what are our options?" he queried.
"Well, as it stands, you have no legal right to Brenda."
"I've gotta have some right." Dylan scooted his palm over his face. "She's months away from having my kid."
"You'd have a right to the kid when the kid is born, but -"
"But not until my kid is born," Dylan finished. "What are our options?" he asked again, this time in a bark full of enough chilling vitriol to turn the Indian Ocean into an ice rink. "And you better give me something good, because I'm not taking this lying down. Jim Walsh is not taking my family."
"Am I talking to Jack, or to his son?" asked the staticky voice of Dylan's family attorney, who had known Dylan for the entirety of Dylan's life.
"Right now, you're talking to a father and the man who'd rather suffer a violent death than be separated from Brenda Walsh again," said Dylan. "Now, do the job I pay you for."
"Yes sir, Mr. McKay, sir. There are a few options."
"Name them. I'll do anything."
Anything, except one thing.
"Marriage?" asked Brandon.
"That's an option," said Dylan.
"What are our others?"
"Bren has to prove to the court that she can function on her own, that she can take care of herself without a guardian."
"If she can't?"
"Then we go to Plan B."
"What's Plan B?"
"We fight tooth and nail for you to get guardianship of Bren."
"And if Plan B fails?"
"Then Bren and I get married."
"I'm surprised you're not more thrilled about Plan C," said Brandon. "What with Bren being your future wife and all."
"Do I want to marry Bren more than anything? Hell yeah I do. I've envisioned her in her gown. I know the exact type of ring I'll put on her finger, and the poem I'll have Silver set to music for the wedding. But it won't happen like this." Dylan released a breath that hung in the air before bouncing back to catch his chest in a stranglehold. "Not when Bren's considering dating fucking Luca and isn't convinced she loves me. Marrying her would be everything…for me. For Bren, it'd be nothing more than a business arrangement, a court transaction. I don't ever want her to feel like that about us. Don't say a word about Plan C to Bren."
"D -"
"I mean it, B. Not a hint, a whisper, nothing. When Bren and I get engaged, it's gonna be when she's ready, not because she feels it's her only choice. You gotta swear."
"You could at least float the idea by her and let her choose whether she -"
"Brandon!"
"Okay, okay, I swear. I won't tell Bren about Plan C." Brandon pinned an interrogative stare worthy of an FBI agent on Dylan. "What happened between you and Jim?"
"It's not important."
"It's clearly important enough for you to be hurt over it."
"What is Dylan hurt over?"
The small, frightened voice faded into the rush of footsteps that hurried in Dylan's direction to examine him.
"I'm fine, Bren," he said, catching her by the waist.
"Brandon said you're hurt," said Brenda in a deep frown that, to Dylan, somehow managed to heighten her already attractive appearance.
"I'm not hurt," Dylan assured as he rubbed his hands over her arms. "How'd it go today?"
"Our girl had another memory." Valerie's proud smile was dimmed by her own blatant concern for Dylan.
"You did?" Dylan beamed. "Another one of Val?"
"Nope," said Brenda. "Of Bobby."
The band of choice that day had been The Ramones, which Brenda informed Dylan she had once watched on television.
"With Bobby?" asked Dylan.
Brandon's expression softened as he opened his arms to Brenda.
"No," said Brenda. "I was watching them the day Bobby - the day Bobby -"
"The day Bobby had his accident," said Brandon knowingly.
Brenda went into Brandon's arms. "Yeah," she croaked. "Something happened."
"Something happened?" asked Dylan. "Something I should know about?"
"Something I should know about," said Brenda. "I can feel it. Something happened here while Val and I were out."
Dylan sat on a chair, Brenda perched on his lap as he told her about the lawsuit.
"So I just have to push myself to be able to be on my own?" asked Brenda.
"Don't push yourself," said Dylan. "Alina said you're going at a great pace. Keep going that pace."
"It's not quick enough," said Brenda. "You said there's another option?"
"Brandon gets guardianship of you," said Dylan.
"I don't want to go to Hong Kong," said Brenda despairingly.
"I've got the world's best lawyers working on this, Bren. You're not going to Hong Kong. Jim isn't getting you."
"If my mother is in on this, Dylan, then I don't want her around, either."
"Your mother is not in on this," said Val from her spot at the window.
"How do you know?" asked Brenda.
"Because she's here." Val pointed outside.
"Brenda." Cindy gave a kind, loving smile reminiscent of both of her children. Her hair seemed curlier and a darker auburn than the last time Dylan had seen it. "Oh, Brenda, it's wonderful to see you again."
"Are you aware that your husband is suing for guardianship of me?" asked Brenda as she kept a cautious, scornful distance.
"I booked a ticket as soon as I found out," said Cindy. "Your father; he, well, he blames himself for your accident."
"That's ridiculous," said Brenda. "How does he possibly think it's his fault?"
Cindy quickly glanced at Dylan before answering, "Because you didn't want to finish the tour, Brenda."
"What?" asked Dylan and his twins, in unison.
"You had considered leaving early," said Cindy. "You had been feeling a bit peaky - I guess now we can see why," she nodded towards Brenda's stomach with an air of grandmotherly love, "and thought it would be better for you to go back to London. You mentioned a fight between you and Dylan. You wouldn't go into details, just that you had immensely missed him and hoped to work things out."
Brenda turned towards Dylan, who hung his head as his inner self-deprecation kicked off.
"I missed out on the rest of the call due to an unexpected guest, but somehow after conversing with Jim, you had decided to stay. The next day - the next day -" Cindy gasped.
"The next day, you caught the train," Brandon guessed.
Cindy confirmed.
"He's become consumed with protecting you," said Cindy. "He's convinced this lawsuit is protecting you."
"Maybe Jim blames himself, but that doesn't explain what he did to Dylan," said Brenda.
"What he did to Dylan?" asked Cindy, befuddled. "Dylan, did Jim do something to you?"
"We don't have to talk about it," said Dylan.
"Yes, we do," said Brenda. "You said you regretted Jim making a decision for you when you were seventeen. If I knew before -"
"You didn't," said Dylan. "No one knew."
He cringed, well-aware that he had unleashed a pit of vipers he had attempted to keep concealed.
"I asked him about it and all he said was that he asked you to convince Bren to go to Paris," said Brandon. "I never knew that."
"Asked me," Dylan snorted. "Sure, Jimbo asked me."
"Dylan, whatever happened between you and Jim that summer is clearly a sore spot for both of you," said Cindy. "I'd like you to tell us the truth about what happened."
"Cindy, I - I shouldn't -"
"Babes, I can see it in your eyes." Brenda caressed the skin under Dylan's eyelids. "Whatever happened really cut you. Tell me."
It spilled out from Dylan then.
He had never seen Cindy so enraged.
"I can't believe - he shouldn't have -" she sputtered. "Dylan, please know that I didn't have a clue about Jim's threat. He assured me he had proven to you that it was in Brenda's best interest to go to Paris."
"I hate him," said Brenda as she cuddled under Dylan's chin.
"Brenda," he started. "He's still your fath -"
"No," she said. "This man threatened you with a charge of statutory rape, and now he's trying to get literal control of my life. If he's my father, then I don't claim him."
"I agree," said Brandon. "Tell…your husband that if he has it in him to be that cruel, then I don't know him. Moreover, I don't want to know him. Dylan was - is - was a brother to me. Bren was completely in love with him. Your husband treated a guy that meant a lot to both of us as if he were no more than dog shit underneath someone's shoe."
"My husband is unrecognizable," said Cindy. "He's just been unrecognizable for much longer than I realized. Dylan, I'm so sorry for what Jim put you through."
"It's in the past," said Dylan. "This is the present, and in the present, Jim isn't splitting apart our family, Cindy. If you're truly sorry, you'll help us keep Bren where she belongs."
"Consider it done," said Cindy.
Angered to the point that she was determined to cook on her own, Brenda shooed them all out of the apartment and locked them out after securing their keys.
It took all of Dylan's willpower to not call every five minutes with surface questions of whether Brenda needed him to purchase certain ingredients.
"'Oh, I know exactly how intimidating Jim Walsh can be,'" Valerie quoted. "Why didn't you ever tell any of us?"
"What did it change?" asked Dylan. "Jim didn't make me cheat on Bren."
"No, but he got into your head. Made you think you weren't good enough for her. Isn't that what you said once?"
"And then I cheated on her, proving him right."
"Then prove to him now that you're a better man than he thinks who is perfectly capable of raising his grandchild and taking care of his daughter."
"You're getting dangerously close to my team, Val."
"Get it straight, Dyl. I'm Team Brenda. Always. If she chooses you, then I'll be fully on board. But not until then."
"Valerie," said Cindy, "Jim mentioned that you had said he couldn't have known your father that well. What did you mean by that?"
"I just mean, no one knew Victor Malone as well as they thought they did, or he'd still be here," said Valerie unconvincingly.
"You do know you can tell me anything?" asked Cindy. "Anything at all."
Val slumped onto Cindy's shoulder. Cindy spoke to Val in a soothing tone as they stepped away.
"You could've told me," said Brandon behind Dylan.
"Would you have believed me?" asked Dylan.
"Maybe," said Brandon.
"We both know that's a lie. You were already angry with me for disrupting your family's Waltons dynamic. You thought the world of Jimbo."
"You've clearly forgotten when I went against him to save the Peach Pit."
"How about you remind me?" asked Dylan. "It's better than picturing Bren up there, getting hurt to prove a point."
"She's fine," said Brandon. "I know she is."
Dylan answered his mobile before it had even rang.
"Where's the ginger root?" asked Brenda.
"Bren, you're not making tea," said Dylan.
"Tea is part of the meal," said Brenda. "Where's the ginger root?"
"I could come up there and help -"
"Never mind. I found it."
Brenda abruptly hung up. Dylan glared at his mobile screen.
"She's using the stove," he told Brandon.
"I expected as much," said Brandon.
"How bad was it?" asked Dylan. "The last time Bren used the stove by herself?"
"I better not tell you," said Brandon.
"Fucking Jim," said Dylan. "We'd all fallen into a rhythm, and now he's gone and disturbed it. If Bren gets one little burn, I swear…"
Brenda emerged from the apartment with her skin free of burns.
Her baked ziti tasted divine.
Her tea wasn't too terrible, though Dylan stuck with his coffee after tasting a sip.
Tea just wasn't for him.
He looked up from his novel to see Brenda walking towards their window in a daze.
"Bren?" He stood to envelop her from behind.
"If I go to Hong Kong, will Jim leave you alone?" asked Brenda in a far-off voice.
"We talked about this," said Dylan. "You're not going to Hong Kong."
"I don't want him to keep going after you," said Brenda.
"Our family is staying together," Dylan promised her. "You, me, and her, we're a unit. Jim isn't breaking that unit."
"I'll do my absolute best to prove to the courts that I don't need taking care of."
"I know you will. Otherwise, I guarantee you Brandon will get guardianship. We're not gonna lose this one, Bren."
Brenda laced her fingers through Dylan's and moved them to her stomach. "She thinks so, too," said Brenda.
"Bren, we already know she won't kick for -"
Dylan cut himself off, smiling through his tears.
Brenda had been half-correct. In that moment, Dylan did know love.
But not because he felt their daughter move about.
Because he felt their daughter move about, with Brenda securely beside him.
He knew love, because Brenda had shown him it, time and time again; when he had been deserving, and when he had been undeserving.
Right then, Dylan mused he might be somewhere in-between.
"She's learned to trust me," he said.
"She might not be the only one," said Brenda.
Dylan held his family snugly in his arms until the moon rose higher in the squid ink-stained sky and Brenda's nonsensical slur had Dylan picking her up to put her into bed.
"I promised, baby." He leant down to kiss Brenda's cheek, before adding a second kiss to her stomach. "I told Brandon I would fight for you. I told you I wouldn't give up. This is just another hurdle we have to overcome. And we will overcome it. I swear."
They moved to their new house in the days that followed.
Forbidden by all three of her housemates to not pick up boxes herself, Brenda stood in overalls and braided pigtails instructing Steve where each box was to go.
As he watched Brenda and perhaps drooled a bit at her choice of attire, Dylan vowed that nothing would taint their new home.
Jim had targeted the wrong man.
They were both fighting for their families, for their girls. Jim was learning how it felt to be without his. Dylan already knew.
He wouldn't sit idly by as the legal system once more crafted a game of darts with his family as the board.
Dylan had fought for most of his life to shed the image of his corrupt family lineage. Yet, if he had to use it to ensure his family remained intact and out of Jim Walsh's control, he would; to its fullest advantage.
The American legal system, after all, was known to cater to old money elites like the great-grandson of Horatio McKay, over white-collar unknowns like Jim Walsh who believed themselves far more intimidating than society deemed them to be.
Men like Horatio, on the other hand; they could truly become intimidating, especially if the futures of their families stood at stake.
All it took was a little cash, which Dylan had in spades.
-x
Song: Deep Down by Debbie Gibson, played when the gang were giving their camera testimonies in the last episode of the first season (at least, according to Wiki.)
Sources: Google + the website for Thomson Reuters Practical Law, the website for Traumatic Brain Injury.
(Shout-out to KJ to express my continued gratitude and appreciation. Ha, I can understand that!)
Thanks a million! x