(Taking a small break from my other stories, but I will get back to them.)

After months of planning, stressing out, and silent showdowns with her future mother-in-law, Helga was just one week from getting married. She was all kinds of excited, and her fiance seemed to be just as happy. Her soon-to-be mother-in-law seemed to be the only sour note. Even her future Father-in-Law loved her.

Oh well, she wasn't marrying the old lady. Though Helga understood the woman's resentment.

She'd had a wonderful debutante picked out for her son to marry. A friend of Rhonda Wellington Lloyds no less. And everything seemed to roll along fine until a party Rhonda threw and invited Helga to. It had been love at first sight for both her and Gregory Christopher Hurst, and two years later here they were, a week from getting married.

"I can't believe you're a week from getting married," Rhonda said. "I'm not even married!"

"Your too high maintenance and your expectations of a guy are too much," Helga told her, pulling at the bodice of her wedding dress. One last fitting before the big day. For the first time nerves fluttered around her stomach. They were both quiet for a moment.

"Have you gotten in touch with Phoebe?" Rhonda asked. Helga shook her head. She hadn't spoken to Phoebe since the second year of university. Helga had gotten busy, Phoebe had gotten busy, and when they had finally bumped into each other it was . . . awkward. Helga sighed remembering that last encounter.

"Anyone else from the mottled group? Like Arnold?" Rhonda asked with a slight tease in her voice.

Helga's heart stopped at the mention of his name.

"No," Helga said. "Seems a bit strange to invite an ex-boyfriend you haven't seen in six years to your wedding to someone else".

"Oh, agreed. There!" Rhonda stood back to admire her. "I still can't believe it!"

Helga agreed. If someone had told her seven or eight years ago that she wouldn't be marrying Arnold, she would have recommended they seek help. But so much had changed since then. Helga had changed since then.

"So what have you left to do?" Rhonda asked.

"I'm still waiting on the Marriage Licence," Helga said frowning slightly.

"What do you mean?" Rhonda asked.

"Well, I applied for it a couple of weeks ago and haven't heard anything back," Helga told her.

"That's strange. Maybe you should call your lawyer and ask about it?" Rhonda said.

"My lawyer?" Helga laughed. "For a piece of paper?"

"Well, surely if something is wrong they will have contacted your lawyer?" Rhonda said.

Helga thought about it silently.

"Your right. I'll call him tonight," she said.

Rhonda just nodded.

…...

Helga stepped into the apartment she shared with Greg, and hung up her coat. she could smell something yummy cooking.

"Greg?" she called out, walking into the kitchen.

"Greg is in the study with the Lawyer," a smug, malicious voice said from beside her. Helga looked to see Greg's mother sitting on a chair, smiling like a cat with a bird.

"It appears you've forgotten to do something very important. Not to mention tell us about it," she siad, getting up and walking over to her.

"Really?" Helga asked, "And what would that be?"

"That your already married," she said, smiling. "How could you forget such a thing?"

Helga just stare at the woman a moment.

It was impossible. She had been 15, that was ten years ago. In San Lorenzo. And it wasn't legally binding here in the States.

Was it?

"What?" she managed.

"Ten years ago. San Lorenzo apparently. Someone called Arnold".

Helga closed her eyes. 'Oh God no', then opened them again. She needed to sit down.

"None of us could believe it when our lawyer came to tell us why the marriage licence had been declined. Naturally curious, we looked into it," she said. Helga knew what that meant. It meant Lucinda Leigh Hurst had gone snooping to find a reason, any reason, for Helga and her son not to marry.

"I didn't realise it was legal here," Helga whispered to herself.

"Well, it is. Puts a spanner in the works, doesn't it?" she asked.

"So your going to have to go gold dig somewhere else," she hissed. Helga looked up and glared at the woman.

"Please," she said. "I'm more than capable of earning my own millions," Helga said.

"With your little paintings?" Lucinda asked disdainfully. "I doubt it".

"I currently have a five hundred thousand dollar commission going on at present, and at least it will be all my money, and not my husbands," Helga told her. She couldn't help but throw that barb in. Lucinda may have been well off, but it was because of her husband, not her own hard work. And it hit the target.

"I will not have my son marry someone so . . . So . . . ""

"So what? Financially independent? Hard-working? Honest? Someone with Integrity and talent?" Helga asked. "Everything you seem to lack?"

Lucinda drew herself up. "I will not be spoken to in such a disrespectful way,"

"Lady, you just were," Helga threw back at her. "So if you'll excuse me?"

Helga left the old lady fuming, and entered the study down the hall. It wasn't called Greg's study for nothing. It was very much a man's space. Big solid oak desk, which seemed to take up the entire room. Filing cabinets which he'd had made to match his desk. He was sitting behind the desk, with a lawyer sitting in front.

"Helga," he said as she entered. He didn't get up, and she could tell by the look on his face that he was less than happy.

"Miss Pa - sorry, Mrs. Shortman," the lawyer started. She saw Greg wince at that. This lawyer was definitely loyal to Lucinda.

"It appears that you are still married to your first husband," he said. "It is why you have been declined the marriage licence".

"No problem," Helga said. "I'll apply for divorce, or dissolution or whatever."

Greg frowned, and the lawyer looked a bit shocked.

"Just like that?" the lawyer asked. Helga looked at him.

"What do you mean, 'just like that?'" she asked.

"Well, surely you should contact him, let him know your intentions?" the lawyer said. "Besides, he's been very hard to track down," the lawyer said.

"Oh, I'm sure I can find him," she said. Then she sighed. "It might take a while,"

"As long as it get's done," Greg said. "I want to marry you, Helga. I love you. and the sooner this business is done and over with, the sooner we can".

Helga smiled. She was so worried that he'd be angry with her for keeping this from him. But to be perfectly honest she really hadn't even thought about it.

After all, how was she supposed to have known that that little ceremony all those years ago in a little village had been legally binding?

…...

She logged into her old email account and looked through all her old contacts. She found Phoebe at last and sent her an email:

Hey Pheebs, how's it going?

Listen I'm trying to get hold of Arnold. Any idea how?

Would Gerald know?

Thanks,

Helga

She sent it. Then just as she was getting up to go she heard the ping of an email being received. She sat back down and looked. "Status: Delivery Failed" and frowned. She opened it:

This email is no longer an active account.

Damn it! She scrolled through all her unopened mail. She had already asked Rhonda, but she had said she hadn't had contact with anyone except Nadine, and that only once in a blue moon. Rhonda had asked Nadine, but she had said she hadn't seen or heard from Phoebe or Gerald since graduation.

Helga only ever logged into this account occasionally to keep it active, but never actually read any of the mail. She knew that the email she had for Arnold wouldn't work. So she needed to find one from Phoebe. Finally she found one from Phoebe saying 'New Address' and opened it. It didn't have a new email address but it did have a physical address and phone number. She was in Hillwood again. Helga rolled her eyes. Did she really have to go back there? The lawyer, apparently, had exhausted other options, including the Real Estate who looked after the Boarding House. But Helga wondered truly how hard he'd actually tried.

She wrote the number down then walked down to Greg's office. Greg at work, doing his CEO thing for his fathers company.

She picked up his phone and with shaky fingers dialled the number she held in her hands.

…...

Phoebe had just gotten home from a long double shift at the hospital. It was hard and she was still studying. It would be years before she was where she wanted to be, but she was getting there faster than some of her peers.

"Here, babe," Gerald said, as he handed her a cup of green tea.

"Thankyou, Gerald," she said gratefully, taking a sip. She sighed.

"Hard day?" he asked. He started to massage her shoulders.

"Yeah, a patient passed away today-" she was interrupted by the phone ringing.

"Don't get up, I'll get it," Gerald told her. Phoebe sunk back into the soft couch.

"Who is this again?" she heard him ask. "Helga? As in Helga G Pataki, Helga?"

She sat up and looked over the back of the couch at him.

"Whoa, wait, what? Slow down, and stop yelling," he said. He looked at Phoebe, who was now up and walking over to him.

"Is it?" she asked. Gerald nodded, and Phoebe felt her heart leap. She hadn't heard from Helga in years!

"Look, I'll pass you to Phoebe, maybe she can make sense of you," he told her, then handed the phone to her.

"Hello, Helga?" she asked excitedly.

"Um, yeah, hey Pheebs," her voice crackled down the line. Phoebe had to get hold of the phone company again. This line was bad.

"Oh, Helga! I haven't heard from you in years! What is going on in your life these days? What are you doing?" she asked.

"Uh, how about I come visit you and we catch up that way?" Helga asked.

"Definitely!" Phoebe practically yelled down the phone. "DO you have our address?"

Helga read out the address she had in front of her. Phoebe confirmed it was the right one and arranged for her to visit on Saturday morning.

"I'll see you then!" Phoebe squealed. "Bye!"

Phoebe turned to Gerald.

"Helga's coming to visit on Saturday!"

She hadn't been this excited since Gerald proposed to her last year.