Title: Wallpaper
Author/Artist: lightbird
Characters and/or Pairings: Miriam Pataki
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Written for the HA Prompt Community; Set 1, Prompt C, coffee getting cold.
Disclaimer: Hey Arnold belongs to Craig Bartlett. I make no money from this fanwork.
Note: My very first Hey Arnold! fanfic. I ended up choosing a difficult character and an approach to point of view that is unusual for me. The prompt made me think of the Road Trip episode, where Miriam leaves her coffee (and purse with all her money) on the roof of the car and then drives off, forgetting to take them into the car with her. And I ended up writing this.
Looking at the mid-aged blonde sitting alone in the kitchen, one would never imagine that this woman was a rodeo champion as a young girl. Active and enthusiastic she ran, climbed trees, hiked to the tops of hills. Summers were spent outdoors in camp, where she learned to ride horses and lasso bulls. She had hopes and dreams and boundless energy.
Like many of her classmates she went on to college, majoring in political science with a minor in French, the diplomatic language. Junior year was spent living and studying in Paris. She was a good leader, her teachers had always remarked. Creative, with a bright spark that burned in her like no other, she stood out among her classmates. She was someone who would make a difference in the world.
One wouldn't guess any of that when observing this woman hunched over the table, a mug of coffee in front of her. Black, no sugar, for she requires it to be as strong as possible. It gives her some impetus to continue on with a grey life shrouded in gloom and enables her to somewhat collect her scattered thoughts. Her beverage of choice is already getting cold but she gulps it desperately, as if she were drinking in badly-needed oxygen.
Everything makes her tired and sad, and, as much as she would be ashamed to admit if ever asked, she passes more time sleeping than doing anything else, often hiding behind the couch so her family won't see. Not that it would matter. The Pataki family is very good at pretending that there isn't something seriously wrong in their household.
With her husband at work and her daughter in school, the rest of her days are spent attempting, unsuccessfully, to keep the house in order. It's clean enough but she constantly loses things, absently picking objects up and carrying them to another place where she promptly forgets about them until Helga or Big Bob are screaming for them.
She'd always had an excellent memory and it was uncharacteristic for her to lose things. Why had that all slipped away?
Big Bob barely gives her a thought, she knows. He's busy running his beeper empire and he takes her presence for granted, someone that should know where his shaving cream is, where his favorite belt is, what his favorite meal is. Invisible, soulless, more like wallpaper than a wife.
Helga considers her worthless as a mother, and she knows that she is. She sees the constant scowl, always in place on Helga's visage and she knows that the girl is angry and unhappy. Often she yells at her, calling her 'Miriam' instead of 'Mom' and Miriam can't seem to even form a coherent sentence to answer the young daughter that she doesn't understand. It all makes her sad, but she's too tired to try to change it and it's just too overwhelming.
Things had been different when Olga lived at home. Their first daughter was vibrant and energetic; her spirit contagious. Miriam manages to brighten on the occasions when she comes home from school; Olga takes on a lot of the work, rising early, cooking breakfast. She finds her mood and energy lifted, infected by her eldest daughter's exuberance. Able to focus on Olga's accomplishments she is taken out of herself if only temporarily.
The large glasses cover a pale, drawn, tired face and cloudy blue eyes. Upon closer look, one can see that she's really quite attractive beneath it all. Somewhere inside there is still a spark of the brilliant, promising girl that she was. And every once in awhile it peeps through. On a road trip with her youngest daughter she wins a mechanical bull-riding contest in a bar in the middle of nowhere. When Big Bob throws his back out, she enthusiastically takes over his beeper empire and runs it better than he does. During those days she's organized, sharp and on top of everything. Filled with new-found gumption, she dresses impeccably, pulling out suits that she used to wear that miraculously still fit her. She even manages to be a good mother to Helga for a change, making well-balanced lunches for her, spending time together even when her daughter is busy doing homework while she crunches numbers on the laptop. Once again, she finds herself able to tap into boundless energy.
Eventually she slips because doing everything, having a job, raising a daughter, is too much. And for awhile after she gives up working and Bob returns to his beeper empire, she still has the inspiration, channeling it into mothering her youngest daughter. And for awhile things are better. Eventually, though, the energy seeps out of her again, and she becomes lethargic and melancholy.
Wincing absent-mindedly she swallows the last gulp of coffee, now ice cold, then stands up and shuffles to the sink where she deposits the empty mug. She drags herself listlessly to the living room and looks around. There's a lot to do today. The house needs to be vacuumed, the laundry needs to be done and she needs to go grocery shopping, among other myriad chores.
Without thinking she turns on the television; she doesn't like it when the house is too quiet, and even when she's not watching it, the noise is comforting. She doesn't feel like going out just yet. It's still early and she can go in the afternoon. Her eye falls on the couch and she crosses to it, wearily flopping down onto it and staring numbly at the flickering screen.
Yes, everything can be done later.