The Seven Pieces of a Feuilleton

Chapter 20

She loathed the feeling of jealousy, which inevitably led to the overwhelming feeling of inadequacy.

There had been her jealousy of Marjorie Miller's relationship with Jim Townsend, which had resulted in the end of her friendship with Marjorie when Marjorie's brother had caught Brenda making out with Jim during a particularly intriguing game of Seven Minutes in Heaven.

She had once coveted Kelly Taylor's wardrobe and mother; briefly, quite briefly, hardly enough to make any kind of dent as large as the one with Marjorie. She had a minor competition with Andrea over a deceivingly charming teacher. She had certainly been jealous over Emily Valentine's brief entanglement with Dylan, whereupon she had acted far more dramatically than she would have liked. There were also the briefest of moments when Brenda would feel envious of Brandon, if only because of his inability to do wrong in their parents' eyes; she, on the other hand, could seemingly do nothing right.

But, overall, Brenda Walsh was not a jealous person and the feeling of jealousy was not one she enjoyed.

Standing there next to the Brit, she found it exceedingly difficult to pry her stare off of the American and Clare Arnold.

They hadn't done anything; nor would they, Brenda was sure. It was clear from their careful movements and lighthearted conversation that neither had any intention of crossing the boundaries of friendship. And, as Brenda was accompanied by Finn, she knew she shouldn't care one iota that Dylan had won a stuffed flamingo for Clare with a star baseball throw at a game booth earlier that morning.

Finn had lost.

It didn't matter that Finn had lost. It didn't matter that Clare had smiled, Dylan had laughed, and Brenda had then marched towards a different game to win a token for Lena Ashe.

But it did. It mattered tremendously.

She had slept alone - in bed, anyway. Respectively keeping his distance after their interaction with Finn, Dylan had blown up a hardly adequate air mattress to ensure he stayed in the room in the event of nightmares. Brenda had quickly grown accustomed to his presence beside her and she had decided that she rather disliked his absence, even if he did sleep mere inches away.

She thought of the time she had spent with Finn, of their own shared laughter and many explorations with mutual friends. She thought of his family: his sisters, Becca and Amy; his mother, Charlotte, who had smelled of expensive floral perfume when Brenda first met her. She thought of holidays at the Cavendish estate and the many horses housed in their personal stables that would become hers when she married into their family.

But she already owned the loveliest of horses - sweet Minnie, waiting for her down near the border with Baja and Briar Rose.

She thought of Erica's hugs; Iris, carried by the wind, and how much she had missed them.

She thought of her ring, tucked away in Dylan's wallet, ready to be returned to her finger when she gave the word. She thought of their first relationship, their second and the events that had led to its temporary end. She thought of Kelly, and of Stuart, and of the people she had not yet met who would attempt to come between her and Dylan in the future. She thought of the pregnancy test and who she wanted by her side the next time she had a scare, or, possibly, a true positive. She thought of their daughter, of daughters and sons they could have - if she allowed it. She thought of the horses Dylan would inevitably continue to add to the stables as their own family grew - one for each child, no doubt. She imagined their family strolling the streets of Paris, discovering new little cafés she had not frequented with Finn Cavendish. She pondered and mused, then pondered some more, her mind so distracted that she almost missed when he spoke.