This is it. The fourth and final installment of the Eleanor Shortman Series. I wasn't sure which song to use & then I heard Every Christmas by Kelly Clarkson and it just fell together. As always, all the characters (except Eleanor) belong to Craig Bartlett and Snee-Osh and I will be eternally grateful that they allow us to play around with their creations.
Every Christmas for the last three years she'd seen the same thing. That moment, in the middle of all the celebration of family and friends, when there are kids running around the boarding house and adults in the kitchen laughing, groups standing by the fireplace catching up with each other to the teenagers and young adults sitting in the hallways with their phones and game systems tagging their presents on Insti-pic and seeing what their online friends received. There was always that one brief moment where she could always see her father step away from the group and look out the window…just for a moment, and the look on his face was so strong she sometimes curse the day she ever went to the Hillwood Cemetery with her father that fateful Christmas afternoon and saw the fireworks on her great grandparent's grave sites.
The first time since her father returned to her that he wasn't at the boarding house for Christmas happened three years ago when she was visited by a ghost and found the woman who had given her a Christmas miracle at age fourteen. She'd walked out of that hospital room in tears and caught sight of him stepping off the elevator and into the hallway. He looked at her in that hospital hallway, smiled and told her to head back home; he would be late, but he'd be there before Christmas was over. And he kept his promise, granted it at about eleven in the evening before he returned home, but he was home before Christmas was over. He never made a mention about that happened in that hospital room one cold and sunny Christmas but whatever happened made him, for one moment every Christmas, melancholy and…lost. Almost as if there was a piece missing from him. When she mentioned it to Phoebe, the older woman smiled sadly and told her a story of a young girl with a fragile heart of gold surrounded by thorns. To Eleanor the story sounded too much like her life between nine and fourteen. But she understood the reference; Helga Pataki was a good person, terrified of being hurt so she hurt others in defense.
"Sounds like she needs therapy." She'd told Phoebe.
"She's had her share," Phoebe confirmed before peering at the young woman over her glasses. "But tell me young Eleanor, how much therapy is needed when you live in a household that financially can give you everything you want except the love and validation of caring parents?"
"Years." Eleanor answered. She went through years of therapy after she found her father and was thrown into the massive battle that was joint custody between her father and her mother and stepfather who didn't want her, but wanted him to have her even less.
Phoebe nodded. "Years. But you lived it for five years. Imagine living it your entire life?"
Reflecting later, Eleanor came to the conclusion that the reason Helga made her nervous was because she saw what she could've become in the older woman. And she wondered if on that Christmas day when she was fourteen at the graveyard if Helga had seen herself in that young girl and decided there shouldn't be another hopeless child in Hillwood
Because that's what she was that day- hopeless.
Her mother and stepfather's money made it so she could graduate from the university of her choice and now that she had there were no more conditions, no more stipulations that she must attend Christmas dinner with her mother's side of the family. And she took full advantage of her newly found freedom. This was the first year she didn't dread getting out of bed on Christmas day. Didn't hate getting dressed because she didn't have to bypass the cooking and baking that was happening in the kitchen, get into her car and drive up the hill to her grandparent's house where she would have to sit politely and ignore her cousins' snide comments about her father and critiques from her Aunts and Uncles until she could reasonably sneak out of the icy manor and finally return to the warmth of the boarding house.
She ran down the stairs in her pajamas and sock slid into the kitchen where her grandmother and father were making waffles and her grandfather was sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee and reading the paper.
She dropped a kiss on her grandfather's cheek and then her father's.
"Here's to not having to get dressed and drive up the hill." She announced happily lifting her newly gotten coffee and sitting at the table across form her grandfather.
"I'm sure your mother and grandparents will miss you." Arnold said, laying a plate of warm waffles before her. She snorted as she reached for the butter and syrup.
"Yeah, they'll miss not having the black sheep to pick on and make snide comments too. They'll have to find another scapegoat this year."
She looked up in time to see the hurt flash past her father's eyes and lifted a hand to touch his arm.
"Let's not talk about talk about that side of the family. Let's talk about how I get to finally help make Christmas cookies."
Her grandmother smiled, wiping her hands on a towel draped by the sink. "Finish up that waffle and I'll have you elbow deep in flour before you can say baking soda."
This Christmas she was determined to keep him too busy to even think about whatever it was that brought her normally cheerful and optimistic father down even for a brief moment in time. Maybe it'd always been there, but she'd never seen it because of her obligations to her mother's side of the family.
She noticed it more this year. The lingering melancholy, barely noticeable when he was greeting friends and family, helping with presents, laughing with the women who eventually entered the kitchen and helped with the baking and cooking process. But for those brief moments when he was alone or he thought no one was looking, she could see it. The brief glance out the window or towards the door. The flash of loss in his eyes. The missing piece he'd given up trying to find.
Her father was the most selfless man she knew; going out of his way to help others, never asking for anything for himself. The smallest thing made him so happy yet he deserved so much more. And she had no way of finding the one thing he needed most in his life.
As the sun was going down and the party was moving upstairs to the roof for the annual Christmas bar-b-que, Eleanor stood in the living room, now devoid of people, and looked at the star on top of the tree.
"If there's one more miracle in your bag of tricks, tonight would be the perfect night to pull it out." She whispered to the tree. "Just one stupid Christmas wish, give my dad the one thing he needs most. Just…let him be truly happy for once."
"I am happy." Her father's voice said in the empty room. She turned away from the tree to see him leaning against the doorway watching her. Khaki pants, green sweater, white/blond hair and the same sad smile she'd always seen on him. "I don't need anything in my life other than what I already have."
"That's bull and you know it." She answered, walking towards him. Reaching him, she wrapped her arms around his waist and smiled when she felt him hug her back. "The happiest I've ever seen you is when I walked into this living room when I was fourteen."
"That's because that was my happiest moment." He answered, his voice quiet. "I had my family with me. That's all I ever wanted Ellie."
"Then why are you always so sad?"
"I'm not. Some days I wish…I wish your great-grandparents were here. Grandma would love you. And Grandpa would say you remind him…well, of your grandmother." He kissed the top of her head and pulled back enough so he could look at her. "You have your whole life ahead of you Ellie. Don't waste your wishes on me."
"You waste your wishes on me." She retorted. The sad smile returned.
"I don't consider them wasted."
"I love you dad. I just want to see you happy."
"I am happy Eleanor. Trust me." He let her go. "Now, we'd better get the hamburgers up the stairs before there's a riot on our hands. Trust me, it's not pretty if Harold starts complaining that he's hungry. Not even Patty can hold him off long after that."
As they crossed the hall to the kitchen, a frantic pounding started at the front door. Arnold sighed.
"I wonder if that's your mother." He mentioned. Eleanor's hands balled up into fists as she stomped past her father to reach the door. Blood or no, there was no way that woman was going to ruin her first real holiday.
Unlocking the front door, she swung it open fiercely. "Look, I told you…"
Her voice faltered when she realized it wasn't her mother standing at the door but a terrified looking Helga Pataki. The older blond blinked and took a step back.
"Sorry, I…"
"No!" Eleanor exclaimed, reaching out to her. "I thought you were my mom."
The terrified look disappeared replaced with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. "I don't think I look like your mom."
Arnold stepped towards the door, smiling when he recognized the person standing outside. "Helga." Eleanor looked back at her father, seeing the smile reach his eyes and turned back to look at Helga. The terrified look was back on her face.
"Hi Arnold. Um…I'm sorry this is short notice, really short notice, heh…" the blond started pulling at her scarf. Eleanor quietly stepped out of the way, pushing her father in front of her so he was the one standing at the door. Neither adult noticed the change.
"Not at all, you know you're always welcome here. Come in, get out of the cold." He reached out for her arm but she took a step back. His hand dropped.
"What's wrong?"
Helga's eyes grew wide and she closed them, taking a deep breath before opening them again and focusing only on him.
"Marry me."
It was Arnold's turn to blink. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"
Helga swallowed hard. "Marry me Arnold. It's stupid and impulsive but I've been stupid in love with you since pre-school and if I don't say this now, I'm gonna die without ever telling you how I felt. So marry me. Marry me for my money, I'm ridiculously wealthy and you can do whatever you want with it, up to and including making that idiotic old FTi building a halfway center like you always wanted."
Eleanor almost choked on her tongue. Both adults had forgotten she was there and here she was, witness to the famous Helga Pataki proposing to her father on his front doorstep on Christmas evening and telling him she'd been in love with him since preschool. These things only ever happened in romantic movies and never this way.
Arnold blinked again.
"Yes."
Helga stopped in mid-speech and Eleanor's jaw dropped.
"Wait, what?"
Arnold smiled. "I said yes. Yes, Helga Pataki, I'll marry you. But I'm not marrying you for your money, although I do like the idea of finally sticking it to Ol' Scheck. I'm marrying you because I love you."
"Really?" She looked stunned at the fact that he'd actually said yes. His smile grew wider.
"Really. The court house is open tomorrow. Unless you wanted a huge blowout wedding."
"Arnold!" With that she stepped into the house, throwing herself in his arms. He laughed before kissing her in the still open doorway.
"Did she finally tell him she loved him?" Phoebe asked. Eleanor looked up at the older woman who was watching the couple kiss in the doorway with tears in her eyes. She smiled, looking back at her father and very soon to be new step mother.
"Yes. But first she proposed."
"She what?!" The excited screech broke the couple apart. Eleanor wisely scrambled out of the way as Phoebe raced down the stairs and towards two of her oldest friends, hugging them both at the same time.
She finally stood up and walked back down the few steps as Helga took off her coat and pulled the pink hat from her head to hang up on the coat rack by the door.
Her father looked at her and she noticed the look was gone. That lost look that flashed in his eyes every year. She smirked.
"Can I take pictures tomorrow and post them on my LookBook?" She lifted her hands like she was spelling out headlines. Wedding pictures with new mom. That should piss Rachel off."
Arnold frowned. "Ellie, don't be mean."
"I'm not being mean, I'm recording the event for posterity."
"You post the pictures and I'll like them." Phoebe replied laughing. Still wrapped in Arnold's arms, Helga relaxed, peering nervously at Eleanor.
"You're okay with this. I'm sorry, I didn't even think…"
Eleanor smiled brightly, looking at Helga and then her father. She hadn't seen the look on his face since the first day she'd seen him that Christmas so long ago.
"I'm ecstatic." She confirmed. "In fact," she pointed towards the kitchen. "You can take the hamburgers upstairs for Harold.
"He was starting to ask where they were." Phoebe admitted.
Arnold winced. "I forgot." He glanced back at Helga. "Do you want to tell everyone?"
She shrugged, pulling out of his arms but not letting go of his hand. "Why not. They'll just harass me anyway when they find out on Eleanor's LookBook page."
Eleanor nodded. "I plan on tagging everyone." She said a little too gleefully. Arnold nodded.
"Okay. Let's get the rest of the meat to the roof before Harold insights a riot."
Phoebe and Eleanor waited until the couple stepped into the kitchen before speaking.
"This has got to be pretty sudden for you. Are you sure you're okay with it?"
She thought back to a comment her Christmas angel had told her when she was fourteen.
The best kind of presents are the ones that knock you sideways with their awesomeness.
Eleanor smiled. "To see my dad finally and truly happy? This is the best Christmas miracle ever."