Beyond the end

Chapter 6. Drive.

London
The air had now become pungent in the British capital; from then on the temperatures would have precipitated and winter would make its entrance and with it the most important season for Brenda's work. She had not yet received any feedback for the writing she had sent to Raynolds but had not let herself be carried away by despondency and had totally immersed herself in the rehearsals of the play for which she had the starring role without any effort. Soon there would be the last night. A little rest and then who knows. But that day the theater was closed and she had spent it through the stalls on Carnaby Street looking for some vinyl that would enrich the collection she had set up right with him. Yeah, Dylan McKay. Why did she have to be so impulsive, even that time, and had he erased the possibility of seeing him again, with a simple gesture of his finger? A question on which she had been working for a couple of days; a rhetorical question, which as such would never find an answer; she did not need it. Absorbed in her thoughts, she flowed one disc after another, with a "peak-medium" dynamic that betrayed its long-year habit of snooping through those memorabilia of modern music. And that's how she came across "Automatic for the Peolpe" Rem's masterpiece album, released right after "Out of the time," the "Losing my religion" album, the soundtrack to her breakup with McKay and her grief. A find that she interpreted as a symbol of duty to move forward; to continue on that road, to leave behind the pain, the breakup, to give birth to a new "work", a new idyll. Maybe she was working too hard with fantasy, but this thought suddenly put her in a good mood. And she understood what she wanted. And what he had to do. Give yourself another chance. Yet another. Although this would have meant, in all likelihood, new diatribes, new gles, new pain. But it was life; and she wanted to savor it to the end, in all its components. Then, she took the record, paid for the multi-tattooed boy behind the stall, and headed quickly to Covent Garden, where "Time" was located, a nostalgic-tasty- coffee shop where Dyan used to take refuge when they shared life and apartment. Meanwhile, a thick rain had mercilessly wet London, as dense smoke rose from the manholes that dotted the streets. The girl pulled out of the Covent metro station, and headed to Floral Street in the direction of Bow St, where the bookstore overlooked. With the black raincoat already suppo and soaked hair on her shoulders, she made her entrance to Time. In the background it resounded Confortably Numb; which did not surprise her at all, as the owner of the place was a fan of the first hour of Pink Floyd and had also dedicated the name of the Café to the group. She took a couple of steps inside, dripping the floor and looking around. It was then that she saw him, at the usual table, in a detangled corner; in his right hand a steaming cup that was lying on his lips, while with his left he held "On the road", the poster book of old Jack, whom he practically knew by heart. On the table, a notebook with a pen resting, a plate with a few brownies, which Dylan had always liked, the cell phone and the keys of a motorcycle on top. She was taken by a dip in the heart. She hadn't seen him in years and immediately realized that that absence took her breath away, leaving her in a limbo where she would never be fully satisfied. Not work, not friends, not family. No one could have given her the gift of full life as Dylan McKay was able to do. With this newfound awareness, she approached the table in slow steps, leaving a trail of drops behind her, and when she was close enough, without thinking twice, she said "Hello stranger"; Dylan looked at her, saw her and smiled. And he put the cup next to his cell phone. "It took you some time."
Los Angeles
"David, where did you put Ethan's damn bag??!!" Donna screamed from upstairs. The pains had suddenly materialized in the middle of the night; but, listening to the advice of Dr. Potter, Dr. Martin's old friend, the future mother had decided not to rush to the hospital and wait for the child to make his way to light at home and not to a strange place, however comfortable, which was the clinic the Silvers had chosen. Eventually Donna had popped it up, helped by a couple of vitriol jokes that Felice had thrown at David about the possibility that her nephew would follow the path of her paternal grandfather, starting with borrowing his name. The boy, who was tired of arguing with his mother-in-law, in the most classic of the cliché, had given up and had given in on the choice of name. Steve didn't miss an opportunity to make fun of him on the subject and David couldn't stand it at all.
"The bag has already been in the car, for 5 days; I'm ready, come on, let's get to know our little one!" David was ready not to warm up and indulge his wife, in the grip of pain and hormones. With difficulty she went down the stairs cursing at every step, swollen like we never before and worried about makeup.
"David, how am I?"
"You are a flower, my love"
"Yes, what kind of flower?"
"A red primrose"
"Do you want to insinuate that I'm embarrassed by the pain?" said Donna, excited.
"But no, honey. You are gorgeous, you look great; now let's go, that nervousness is corroding my stomach"
"Is your stomach corroded? Yours, Silver! You have the touch of your father with the chair assistant!!!"
David tried not to seize the offense of happy memory and went to help his wife on the last three steps. With patience he accompanied Donna in the car, got behind the wheel and began the journey to the clinic.
Donna was breathing at regular intervals; she had been testing at the pre-looking course for weeks, but now she seemed to have forgotten every mechanism, every trick she had been given to that course. "Breathe Donna, Breathe"
"What do you think I'm doing, Dr. Silver .. Rather, try to make you useful, call my mother"
David looked up at the sky.
"Yes, call my mother, I told you. Tell her she's going to be a grandma soon; and call Kelly, I want her to the clinic; not my mother, Kelly"
David's gaze was more comforted.
"Of course Love, I'll accompany you and call them right away."