Just Fine
Arnold paced in the waiting room. He looked at his watch.
6:27.
He squinted at the face. AM.
How long had they been at the hospital anyway? Since 11 at night? Midnight? It was hard to remember.
Helga had needed some… alone time. He was used to her stubbornness at this point for years; it didn't bother him anymore, it was who she was and he was fine with it. But Helga, nine months pregnant and past her due date – everyone has their stress limit.
"Arnold! Any update?" his mother Stella's voice interrupted his thoughts, as she briskly walked down the hallway towards him with his father, Miles.
"We have coffee!" added Miles, handing Arnold a large cup from the tray.
"Thanks Dad," Arnold said, sipping it to check the temperature. "I needed this. And no, Mom… no updates, unfortunately. Phoebe said she's coming along well though – slow and steady, I guess."
It might seem weird to most people that Phoebe was Helga's personal obstetrician for the pregnancy, but as Phoebe so eloquently said, "I would rather handle a Helga in labor than unleash her unto the world."
"Do you need anything, honey? Why are you not with Helga?" Stella asked, pushing some gray hairs out of her eyes.
"I just wanted to give her a little space," Arnold said, immediately feeling guilty.
Stella pursed her lips. "Honey, I remember when I was in labor. I was not a happy camper, either. I mean, come on - I had you in a temple with hot lava surrounding us … and all I could think about was how I wanted to punch your father in the face as hard as I could."
Miles nervously laughed and scratched his head.
Stella continued. "She's allowed to feel how she's feeling. This is very hard on a woman, and your wife is one of the strongest women I've ever met. Your responsibility is to be there for her through the worst of it – even if she punches your lights out."
Arnold sighed. "You're right," he said, putting the coffee down. He decided not to bring the coffee in with him – she refused to drink any since she found out she was pregnant, and she missed it dearly.
"Just let us know if you need us, we will be here!" Miles said, making his way to the newly refreshed donut tray in the waiting room.
Arnold turned the corner and walked into Helga's room – quietly. He lightly knocked on the doorframe. "Honey? It's me," he said cautiously.
Helga was lying in the bed propped up, her blonde hair loose around her shoulders, a blanket over her big belly, her arm in an IV. She looked flushed and definitely uncomfortable, but he thought she looked amazing.
She's doing this for me. For us. The strongest woman I know – and even she's at her limit.
"Hey, Arnold," she said, looking down. "So, I –"
"Helga, don't," Arnold said, sitting down in the chair next to the bed, her hands in his. "Don't apologize. What you are doing for us is amazing. You are amazing. I should have been more understanding. I know this is not easy."
Helga sighed. "My whole life, I've been a hard ass. I was the bully, the strong one. When we decided to have a child, I knew labor wouldn't be a walk in the park, but I didn't think this would be so… difficult."
"I know, I know," he said, rubbing her swollen belly tenderly. "Actually… I don't know. I'll never know. But I can be there for you every step."
Helga smiled, but her expression quickly changed to pain. "Contraction," she forced out, breathing in.
As Arnold continued to hold her hands (and let Helga squeeze them much harder than he was comfortable with), Phoebe walked into the room, files in hand.
"How's my favorite patient doing?" she said cheerily. Arnold stared at her as Helga's contraction started to subside. How is she so chipper so early?
"I'm… doing alright. Just uncomfortable," Helga said breathlessly. Phoebe gave her friend a squeeze on the shoulder and reviewed some of Helga's and the baby's vitals and gave her the normal check ups to evaluate her progress. Taking off her rubber gloves, she squinted and pushed her glasses up higher on her nose.
"Well, Helga, the good news is you're coming along very well. I know it doesn't seem like it but you're in active labor. I can't say how long exactly it'll be but everything is going well and Baby S has strong vitals." Phoebe looked up from her papers. "You still want to wait for the gender?"
"Yes Pheebs! I don't want to know what the baby is until it shoots out," Helga said, crossing her arms.
Arnold rolled his eyes and laughed. "It's been a source of contention with us Phoebe, but she wants to wait – I'll wait with her."
Phoebe laughed and shrugged. "Suit yourself! I'll be right back, I just have to give these files to the nurses station."
All of a sudden, Big Bob and Miriam came into the room as Phoebe left. "Helga!" Bob boomed, much louder than was appropriate in an early morning hospital setting. "Did we get here in time? Did that kid … uh… come out yet or what?"
Helga rubbed her belly. "Well Dad, I'm still as big as a house – what do you think?"
Bob laughed uproariously. "You always had a sense of humor, girl!"
Helga gave a knowing look at Arnold as he continued to hold her hands. For her entire life, Helga was always second fiddle to her beautiful, smart, talented older sister Olga. However, the tables entirely turned when Helga announced she was giving them their first grandkid – and Big Bob was dying for a boy.
"Oh honey, you look just amazing, doesn't she B?" Miriam said, just as Helga was entering into a new contraction – this one much stronger than the previous ones.
"PHOEBE!" Helga yelled, pressing the nurse button over and over. "I need drugs or I'm gonna knock every single person's block off here!"
Phoebe rushed back into the room. "Helga, what's wrong?"
If Helga's looks could kill, the entire room would have been dead. "I can't deal with these contractions… any more. I'm exhausted. Please Phoebe, I need something."
Phoebe started scribbling on her pad. "You're far enough along for me to order you an epidural, and your contractions aren't close enough where we will have a problem. It'll help with the pain and numb you from the waist down. You might even be able to relax and get a little sleep before you start pushing."
"Anything, I just need it now," Helga said through clenched teeth.
Big Bob and Miriam, obviously uncomfortable, finally spoke up. "Okay dear, we are gonna give you some space so you can keep your strength up," said Miriam.
"Yeah, uh… we'll sit with Arnold's parents, Shelly and Mavis," Bob added, already halfway out the door.
Helga sighed, looking at Arnold. "You think being an idiot skips two generations instead of just one? I would really hate for our baby to get their genes."
Arnold laughed and kissed his wife's hands. "If that's the case, the kid won't get my dad's great hair!"
Phoebe entered the room again, with a nurse and a long needle. "Okay Helga, I have the epidural ready. Nurse Bethany here is going to sterilize the area and give you a small needle to numb the area," she said, checking the needle. "Then, we can insert this into the nerves around your spine and you should feel much better after."
"Thank you Phoebe, we really appreciate you getting this for Helga so quickly," Arnold said, as Helga positioned herself for the upcoming shots.
After a couple of minutes, Helga lied back down in the bed, waiting for the epidural to take effect.
Phoebe scribbled some notes in her file. "You should start feeling less pain in about 5 to 10 minutes. Arnold, keep giving her ice chips – I'd rather avoid her drinking water. I'll be back in a bit."
Arnold smiled fondly at his wife, as he pushed her bangs away and kissed her forehead. "I'm so proud of you, Helga. You are so strong, you are going to be an amazing mom."
Helga's eyes grew a little heavy, but she heard Arnold chuckle to himself. He wanted to keep things light for her as she relaxed. "Helga - do you remember how crazy we were as kids?" he asked, stroking her hair. "Man, you really had it in for me at PS 118. You drove me nuts! But all that time… it's because you were hiding how you really felt… I can't believe it's been so long since then…"
Helga's eyelids might as well have had anvils on them as Arnold spoke. "And remember San Lorenzo? Of course you remember - how could you forget? How could I forget? You helped me get there and find my parents… and wake them up! And after all you've done for me, here you are… giving us the biggest gift of all…"
Arnold continued to tenderly stroke Helga's hair and forehead as he talked, but she only heard bits and pieces of what he was saying at this point.
"… Rhonda's costume party, do you remember…."
"…what about when we were in Romeo and Juliet…"
"… remember the week at the beach house…"
Arnold kept talking and stroking her forehead softly and slowly, and with some much-needed pain relief, she finally drifted off.
Helga blinked. She was across a table from Arnold but… he wasn't her strapping husband of two years. He was …9, 10 years old?
Arnold, with his crazy cornflower hair, was looking intently at her from across the table of a restaurant. It seemed so… familiar, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Young Arnold was dressed in a dark suit and a red bow tie. Good God, he looked like a busboy. What on earth was going on?
Her hand was across the table for some reason, and Arnold looked like he was going to take it, but he hesitated.
"Uh… would you excuse me one last time?" Arnold said. "There's something that I… kind of have to take care of." He kept his eyes on her as he excused himself from the restaurant.
She remembered now. Even though it seemed like a lifetime ago, this was the night she pretended she was Cecile, Arnold's pen pal from France. Jesus, they were nine then! Why was she reliving this? What this some sort of weird dream?
She rubbed her eyes and looked around, trying to understand what was going on. She turned, her blonde hair swooped over her face, and looked out the window of Chez Paris – and saw Arnold talking to Ruth P. McDougal, as Ruth started to walk away with some other guy.
Helga remembered this! She grabbed her shoes in her hand and ran out of the restaurant to Arnold.
"Cecile, let me explain!" he said, as he saw her walking to him. "I came here to have dinner with you, but I already had this other thing set up."
Helga remembered how she reacted years ago, how angry she was – now she couldn't even get any words out. "I…I…." she stammered, dropped one of her shoes.
"Excusez moi," said an accented voice from behind her. "I am looking for Arnold?"
"Who are you?" Arnold asked, confused.
"I am Cecile!" the beret-wearing girl exclaimed in her thick French accent. "Surprise! Your grandpapa told me you were here. You did not recognize me from my photo?"
Arnold looked even more confused. "You're Cecile? But you can't be Cecile…because she's Cecile." He pointed at me.
"Well, I, uhm…" Helga stammered, both Arnold and the real Cecile looking at her. Even then, she didn't know what to say and that certainly didn't change now.
"Arnold, what is going on?" The real Cecile asked, her hands on her hips.
All of a sudden, Gerald stepped in, rose in hand and handed it to the real Cecile. "Hi… how ya doin'? I'm Arnold," he said in his ever so suave tone, saving Arnold from some serious embarrassment.
"You are Arnold?"
"Yeah, uh, I'll explain to you later. But for now, what do you say you and I get something to eat? Because I know this great hamburger joint down the street," Gerald said.
"Ah!" Cecile beamed, taking Gerald's arm and walking with him. "Hamburger – the American steak tartare. Alonzi, Arnold!"
It was just Helga and Arnold now. "Uh… what a crazy night, huh?" Helga said, her arms behind her.
"Yeah..."
He bowed down to grab Helga's other red shoe and locked eyes with Helga. "There's one thing I still don't understand," Arnold asked as he handed her the shoe.
"Who are you?"
She remembered this. She didn't tell him originally – and she was left with so many questions and no real answers. And she remembered how badly that sucked. If this was some weird dream, she was going to change the outcome.
"Who are you?"
She exhaled deeply. "Arnold, it's me – Helga. Could you not really tell?"
Arnold's eyes went wide. "…Helga?"
"Yes, Arnold – I made this ruse so I could tell you how I feel about you without actually telling you how I feel about you. Crazy, right?"
Arnold scratched his forehead. "Why would you do this? What you said back there in the restaurant, everything we talked about – is that true? You like me?"
Helga rubbed her arm. "Obviously not the me being French part, but yes… I like you. That is all true."
"But I don't understand –" he stammered.
"Arnold, of course you don't understand. I've been nothing but mean and a bully to you for what, six years? Why would any of this make sense? But just know that what I did to you is my way of hiding how I was really feeling. What you saw at dinner is who I really am. And I actually think you are a caring, handsome, nice, sweet, funny person. And you know what? It's OK if you don't like me right now. You're nine – you don't know what you want yet. But you know what – weirdly, things end up … working out just fine," Helga said, smiling to herself with the newfound knowledge she now had.
"Helga – I can't believe I'm going to say this but… I had a lot of fun with you at dinner. When you're not calling me football head or shooting spitballs at me during class, you're actually really nice to be around, Helga," Arnold said shyly, smoothing his hair nervously.
"Thanks Arnold," Helga said, patting his shoulder.
"You're really nice to be around, Helga…" she heard Arnold say again, but this time his voice was sounding distant. She shook her head, her vision clouding.
"You're really nice to be around, Helga…" The phrase just kept repeating, and Helga felt like it was miles away.
"Really nice to be around, Helga…"
"Nice to be around, Helga…"
"Helga…"
"Helga…"
"Helga!"
Her eyes fluttered open. She groggily looked around and realized she was back in her hospital room. Phoebe was looking over her with Arnold, who had been saying her name.
"Helga, you fell asleep for a couple of hours, I'm not surprised. You were exhausted!" Phoebe said, getting ready to check on Helga's labor status.
After Phoebe was done, she smiled at Helga and Arnold. "Good news, guys – I think it's time to have that baby! You ready?"
Some time later, Helga lightly rocked her and Arnold's brand new baby boy, who they named Phillip Robert Shortman. He looked a lot like Arnold in his features, but with a rounder face like Helga – and a beautiful curl of blonde hair just like his parents.
Arnold came back into the room. "I let everyone know that Mom and baby are doing well. My parents give their love. Your Dad flipped out when I told him it was a boy. I told them they can come by in a little bit," he said.
Arnold sat down next to Helga on the bed and touched his son's cheek. "Helga, you did amazing. I can't believe he's here – he's perfect!"
Helga was overcome with happiness. "He really is. Imagine our lives, Arnold… how we met, us growing up, everything we've been through. This is our legacy, our amazing son."
"I was afraid you weren't going to wake up to have him!" Arnold joked. "You were really out of it after Phoebe helped relax you. You were mumbling a lot but I couldn't make out what you were saying. Do you remember what you were dreaming about?"
Helga looked at Arnold and their baby. She beamed. "You know what?" said she and smiled. "It's not important – because event though we do crazy things when we are younger, it all works out just fine..."