I'll be home for Christmas
This story is for Louise & Chris, and Ruth & Rick, who have found true love in this crazy, mixed up world we live in.
Sequel to "Parting is such sweet sorrow"
As Helga stepped off the bus her boots crunched in the icy snow and the bitter winter wind grabbed at her long, blond, hair making it dance wildly. She clenched her teeth as the cold wind seeped into her bones and she pulled the collar of her coat up in vain attempt at receiving warmth.
Her cheeks began to Rosen and turn a flattering pink as she walked briskly down the block towards her house, her shopping bags swaying and bumping off the sides of her legs. She breathed a sigh of physical relief as the Pataki residence came into view, her sigh misted in front of her like a visual aid of her freezing state but silently dissolved.
After delving into her bag and rummaging around for what seemed like forever she managed to fish out her keys and unlock the door. She barged inside and dropped her parcels in the hallway, slamming the door behind her.
"Hellooooooo!" She called but received no reply.
She folded her arms in annoyance and marched to the kitchen where a note was strategically placed on the counter for her to view. "Gone to the mall for Xmas shopping, back soon Love Mom and Dad!" It read.
"Well, its always nice to come home to a warm family atmosphere", she spat sarcastically, tossing the note into the bin. "Pheh, I guess I should count my blessings, they actually bothered to write a note",
Helga flicked the kettle on for some coffee and then made her way back to the hall. She removed her coat and shook the snow out of her long hair. She inspected herself critically in the hallway mirror. Although Helga didn't believe it in the slightest she was a quite a beautiful young woman, having just turned sixteen. She was taller of course and sported a creamy, smooth complexion that was the envy of most of her peers. Puberty had granted her a favour and she was slender with curves in all the right places, her stunning blue eyes shone with maturity now instead of innocence and her golden hair flowed softly around her shoulders. Mother Nature was making up for all those awkward, childhood years. Helga was gorgeous! However, no matter how many compliments or lingered glances from any amount of admirers she received she still didn't believe it and found fault in her entire being.
Her elementary school friends were still in shock on how she had turned out but still being her "gang", as it were, they knew what Helga was like, although she make look like an angel she was hard as stone. Her attitude and personality had hardened severely since Arnold had left. Most admirers who had got to know her in the past soon fled. Luckily for Helga her cynical and sarcastic ways failed to make her old friends scatter, Phoebe especially stuck by her.
She scoffed at her appearance once more before grabbing her shopping bags for inspection and darting into the kitchen to answer the kettle's screeches. She poured herself a cup of hot coffee and then displayed her bought items in front of her to rethink, if needed, her gift choices.
She sipped her coffee and thought, letting the hot liquid warm her slowly. She listened to the silence of her empty house; this was what she was used to. Emptiness, the silence enveloped her and caressed her mind with its soft, velvety fingers. Silence could never hurt her, it meant she was alone. Alone, the word bounced off the walls of her mind, echoing, mocking. This was the word that dominated her life and had done since he left, left her alone with no window of hope to shine its shaft of light on her face. When he had left the sun that was her hope had set and left a moonless sky. The crack of light slipped away and was swallowed by the empty, timeless darkness. Locked in a room alone, there was a scared little nine-year-old girl that called his name, begging for the light.
The silence made her think these things; she bit down on her lip until she tasted the tang of iron, her soft lip oozing a warm red liquid onto her tongue. She tasted it; it had a strange comforting edge to it, her blood, her own blood. She licked her injured lip very slowly, feeling no pain but instead comfort. An image flashed before her mind, the hopeful little nine-year-old screamed from the confines of her darkened room and then image dissolved. Helga stared in a daze until a sharp knock sounded on the door, snapping her thoughts back to reality, back to life, thoughts of death crawling to the back of her mind once again, but stalking and waiting for the silence to release them once more. Her eyes focused and she jumped in a delayed reaction, wiping the blood from her lip and the sharp twang of pain finally making its debut, she touched it gingerly before running to answer the second knock at her door, coffee cup still in tow.
She opened the door a slightly and peered out, whoever it was making their way back down the stoop.
"Excuse me!" Called Helga, stopping the mysterious visitor, who turned quickly. The glow of a nearby streetlight hit their face and Helga gasped and heard her coffee cup crash against the cold concrete of the first step.
"Arnold?" She breathed in disbelief, as she saw the familiar football shaped face, now a handsome young man, smile at her warmly. He audibly gasped when he saw her too; the ugly duckling he once knew was now a beautiful swan. He barely recognised her.
"Hey Helga!" He said softly, in his distinctive husky voice, yet lower through age.
Helga's mouth dropped open in disbelief; she had to steady herself by grasping the door tightly. She looked him up and down, he was wearing a pair of crumpled, engineered jeans and a thick black sweater, his hair was shorter and now flopped over his eyes in the same adorable blond tufts. Round his neck he wore an African looking string of wooden beads with something inscripted on the front bead.
He shifted the strap of his backpack making Helga's eyes shoot back up to face his own, they were still radiant and emerald green, sparkling with thirst for life and youth. She felt blinded, someone had ran in to the darkened room and thrown open the curtains to the light of a new day, the sun had risen and the light of hope flooded into the room, bathing the relieved little nine year old in new hope and warmth. It was so bright she felt her eyes water, but refused to let them flow.
"You're here, I don't understand, Arnold…" stammered Helga.
"I'm home, I got back last night, you're the first person I've seen", he smiled.
She looked at him, still in shock. He looked around awkwardly, not enjoying the silence.
"Could I maybe, come in?" He asked hesitantly.
"Oh God, of course, I'm sorry", jumped Helga, ushering him in "Its just, I'm surprised to see you is all, I wasn't expecting it"
"I guessed as much", laughed Arnold, stepping inside, brushing snow out of his hair.
She led him into the kitchen where they sat at the table, Helga quickly brushing her days shopping away.
"Coffee?" She asked
"That'd be great, milk and two sugar please"
"Hey, same as me!" They smiled at eachother.
"I gotta tell you Helga, I barely recognised you", he started, taking his coffee with gratitude "You look, well…you look amazing, like really fantastic", he blushed at how much of an idiot he sounded. Helga matched his blush with her own, how long she's wanted to hear those compliments from him.
"Thanks, you don't look too bad yourself", she said softly, avoiding his gaze.
He smiled. They sipped their coffee quietly for a moment.
"How was England?" Asked, Helga, not particularly concerned about that right now.
"Great, nice place to visit, brilliant to see Europe, but its not home though. This is where I belong"
She nodded in agreement before biting the bullet and asking what she so desperately wanted to.
"I have to ask, why did you come and see me? I would have thought I would be the last person you'd want to see?" She suddenly found her coffee very interesting.
"I can understand why you'd think that Helga, but I beg to differ", he said becoming very serious "I have to be honest with you, I've thought about you a lot these past years"
He went into his backpack and produced a book, creased with use, it looked like it had been read a thousand or more times.
"You still have that?" Laughed Helga, weakly, feeling butterflies in her stomach scatter everywhere.
"I read it every time I feel lonely or down, it makes me smile and makes me think of you", he whispered.
She finally let her eyes meet with his; they probed deep into her soul and she felt her own dampen with sorrowful tears.
"Do you…" she swallowed hard "Do you know?"
"Not for sure until I hear you tell me so", he said, almost pleadingly.
Her shoulders began to heave with sobs and she felt warm tears roll down her cheeks, the little nine year old was free, all her pain and love for the young man before her was rushing back to her like someone had opened a flood gate. She felt his strong hand take her own and give it a gentle squeeze, he moved closer to her. She wouldn't look at him.
"Look at me" he said gently.
"I can't"
He tilted her chin upwards, bringing here eyes to his.
"Really?" He asked, with a smile.
She broke down and finally released herself.
"I love you, Arnold"
He smiled and brought her lips to his own, kissing her softly. His arms snaking round her waist and drawing her nearer. With a heavy sigh of relief she returned the kiss, soft, warm and gentle.
Outside the snow poured softly and the gentle hum of carollers in the distance hung in the air, which was peaceful and serene.
~Fin~