All I Can Give…
Summary: I'd like to call this the "feel good story of the season." Four different love stories, intertwined together. About love, sorrow, and passion. Heartbreaks, happy endings, sad endings… these different people embark on life changing experiences, and find out that all they can give is, well, love.
Rating: PG-13
Chapter One: Tuna
"I – I can't," she muttered to herself, hiding her face behind her hands. "This is too painful." Helga looked up at the ceiling and clutched her hands. "Oh wretched pain of love, why doth thou torture me so?"
The doorbell rang, and she straightened up, running her hands down her skirt. She inhaled deeply, and let out a short breath. The doorbell rang again. "Hold on!" she shouted, walking to the door.
There was a UPS man at the door and smiled. "Hello Miss. Can you sign for this package?" He was wearing a green poncho on top of his brown uniform.
"..Sure." Helga smiled and signed a metal rectangle box. He handed her the wet large brown package and walked away.
"Hmm…" she wondered, looking at the box. To Miriam it said. She shook it. There was no sound. "Oh, whatever," she mumbled. "MIRIAM!" she shouted. "PACKAGE FOR YOU!"
"THANKS HON!" a drowsy voice shouted back.
Helga murmured to herself as he walked up the stairs to her room.
At such a tender age of 16, Helga was not the most beautiful in the world, but she had her charms. Oh, yes, she had her pretty blue eyes, and she was very lovely in pink. The last thing she wanted was to live life in sorrow like her parents who were never quite as happy as they used to be. The only thing she really wanted was love. To love and be loved…by the only person she has ever wanted.
With that last thought in mind, she locked herself in her room and turned off the lights and listened to the raindrops hit the roof.
Miriam walked out to the entrance hallway and saw the moist brown package that lay on the ground. She bent down and picked it up lazily. What could it be? She thought. With a slight thrill of excitement, she tore the tape off and opened the two brown flaps to reveal…a pot. And a cookbook.
She found a card inside and opened it.
Miriam,
Hope you like the pot. Maybe you can learn to make some descent food.
-Bob
P.S. Happy Anniversary
Is this it? She thought. She made him his favorite breakfast. She gave him what he wanted last night in bed. And this was it?! A pot? With…a cookbook? She angrily threw the package at the door and groaned. "Piece of CRAP…" When was the last time that he considered her feelings? When was the last time they kissed and actually had feeling behind it? When was the last time he gave her roses?
…The last time he said "I love you"…
Miriam couldn't bare it any longer and walked into the kitchen to make a smoothie.
Helga heard the noise downstairs and groaned. She walked towards her door in the dark and slammed her shin into her old toy chest at the bottom of her bed. "Ouch. Crimeny!" She fell over on the ground and crawled over to her light switch and flipped it "on".
She cradled her leg and saw a large ugly bruise forming right smack in the middle. "Aw, crap."
Gerald sat around the house. Luckily he didn't have to deal with Jamie-O anymore since he was already in college. It really was a miracle that someone like him could have gotten into college. Gerald considered it a gift from God that he was relieved of his awfulness.
The phone rang. He lunged to the phone and picked it up. "Hello?"
"Hi Gerald."
"Phoebe," he said with a very satisfied tone of voice. "I was thinking of you…"
"Me too. You know, there's a new movie out called Smoochie Kiss. Do you want to go?"
"Of course. I'd go anywhere with you," he said with his creamy voice.
"Well," she said briskly, "I suppose we can make it a date on Saturday?"
"Definitely."
"Great." She paused. "See you later, then."
"See ya."
He hung up. Angrily, he groaned and slammed his head into the wall. They had been in a relationship for the past year and a half. Still, he could not even get close to uttering those three little words which lingered on his lips. Phoebe told him once, but he couldn't reply. He lied that he just wasn't ready for that step. He used that excuse for the last six months.
Phoebe, being the timid girl she was, just let it slide. Not letting her appearance show any sign of heart ache.
Gerald grumpily picked up his phone and hastily dialed seven digits.
"Arnold." He said flatly.
"Gerald," a voice cracked. Arnold cleared his throat. "What's with the phone call? It's Friday afternoon. Aren't you supposed to be out somewhere? Like on a date with your girlfriend?"
"Naw, man. Not today."
There was silence.
"So, did you call just to hear me breathe? Or do you have a problem?" Arnold wondered. He was picking up some socks lying around on the floor of his bedroom. He took a sniff of one pair and instantly threw them into the hamper.
"I guess I have a problem."
"Is it Phoebe?" Gerald didn't answer. "Oh c'mon Gerald. Why else would you call? You couldn't have possibly called me to go out and play baseball. The weather is too bad to play baseball…"
"It's just…I don't know. Do you think I should say those words to her?"
"What words?"
"You know…" he said uneasily.
"I do?" Arnold said, throwing a random shirt into the hamper.
"I love you…" he croaked.
"Aw, Gerald. That's sweet," Arnold chuckled.
"Seriously, Arnold!"
"Okay, okay." Arnold took a seat on his bed. "So, tell her. I mean, if you managed to say those words to me, I'm sure that you have enough guts to say it to her."
"What if something goes wrong? I mean, how can I tell if it's real? What if right after I tell her I end up breaking up with her? You know? How can you be sure?" Gerald complained.
Arnold shrugged. "I don't know. I guess that's the way love is," he said. "You're never sure. Unless you're sure."
"That made no sense at all."
"Love doesn't make sense, Gerald. It just doesn't."
"I could've figured that out myself." Gerald groaned. "Look, I gotta go. I gotta start dinner. Or something."
Arnold's ear filled with the sound of the ring tone. He turned off his cell phone and tossed it next to him on the bed. He leaned back on his cushiony bed, and stared out his large glass roof and admired the rain streaming down the angled glass.
He rubbed his eyes and tucked his hands into the pockets of his blue and white striped basketball shorts. Then he fell asleep with dreams of sugar plum fairies in his head. (Haha) At 8:00 PM he woke up and rubbed his eyes. The sky outside was still dark, but the rain stopped. He sat up in his bed and stretched out his arms.
His stomach grumbled and he decided to go downstairs for a snack. So he walked down the stairs to the kitchen.
"Hey shortman," greeted Grandpa. "You slept through dinner. You want something to eat? I saved some nice chili for you. And half roll." He shoved a plate in front of Arnold's face. It was really weird that Grandpa would call Arnold shortman, considering he was already taller than him.
"Sure, Grandpa." Arnold took the plate and sat down on the table as Grandpa handed him a fork. "Thanks." Arnold put a lot of pasta in his mouth and happily chewed.
"Hungry, eh?"
Arnold nodded and took a large bite of the roll.
"Whaddya think of Rome?"
"Ohm?" Arnold repeated with his mouth full. He gulped down the last few bits of his food down his throat. "Yeah…it's nice."
"I was thinking of taking your Grandma with me. You know?"
"Oh. Right! For your anniversary…when is it again? Coming soon, right?"
"The day before Valentine's Day. Isn't it amazing, that after forgetting anniversary dates for over 40 years, I finally remember it." He grinned. "Now I'm going to make it special."
"Why? Is it your 50th? Like a special milestone?" Arnold asked excitedly.
Grandpa shook his head. "I lost track after the first one, Short man."
In came Grandma wearing her regular green dress.
"Hi Pookie," said Grandpa. "Where have you been?"
"Just in the room. Resting," she said calmly, pouring herself a glass of water. Arnold had noticed her personality turn normal through the years. It was a very subtle change, but still a change nevertheless.
Arnold watched as she tried to pick up her glass. It almost seemed like her hand was gently trembling – struggling with picking it up. Still, she managed to pick it up and sip lightly from it, and then it slipped from her grasp, crumbling and shattering on the tile floor beneath her.
"Oh, dear," she mumbled, bending down to pick some big pieces up.
"Wait! Grandma, let me…" Arnold took his napkin and bent down next to Grandma as she straightened up, with her hand on her hip. He looked up at her as he picked up the stray pieces.
"Thanks, Arnold."
"Anytime, Grandma." He gathered all the pieces together and threw them away into the trashcan.
"I'm going back upstairs now," she said and began to walk out of the kitchen.
Arnold's eyes followed her as she walked out of sight. He approached Grandpa, and put his hand on the table. "Is Grandma okay?"
"Yeah. As far as I know she's good. But on the other hand," he heard his stomach bubbling. "I need to check into the office. See you later, short man!" he took a rolled up newspaper and ran out of the kitchen.
Arnold decided to take a walk outside. He whistled. "C'mere Abner…"
In came Abner running quickly and stopped at his feet and oinked joyfully.
"How would you like to go on a walk, huh?" Arnold patted his thigh and Abner followed him to the front door where Arnold put the leash on his collar and he put on his jacket from the coat rack. "I'll let you rummage through a garbage can."
"Damnit, B!" Miriam cursed. "I just…"
"Just what? What Miriam?" Bob replied angrily. "I spent a good thirty bucks on that pot. You'd better put it to good use."
"I don't even know why I bother trying to talk to you! You're always so preoccupied with your stupid TV and – and PORK RINES!" She shouted.
"Hey! I listen! I do my part around this job, unlike you Miriam. What do you do for this family? Huh? Just sit around and make SMOOTHIES? For Christ's sake…"
Helga stopped writing in her diary and slammed her purple pen on the table. "Crimeny! Can't I ever get any peace and quiet around in this house?" She walked out of her room and her stomach growled. "And what happened to dinner?"
"MOOOOM!"
No one answered. Helga ran down the stairs and shouted again over her parents' arguing. "MIRIAM!"
"Not now Helga," she snapped back quickly. She and Bob continued to gripe about each other. Helga was fed up and felt a few dollar bills in her jean pocket. She took it out and counted 12 dollars. Good enough for a hamburger.
She took a jacket from the coat rack and put it on irritatedly. "I'm GOING!"
She walked down her stoop, with her hands in her pink jacket's pockets. The weather outside was fresh and chilly. Helga enjoyed this kind of weather because it gave her a reason to buy more clothes and it gave her a great inspiration. Rainy days always made her freshly inspired with poems.
Taking her sweet time, she casually walked across the slick sidewalk passing the flower shop, passing the other shops, and then stopping in front of a small deli. Inside, she was greeted by a fat man with silver hair.
"What would you like?" he asked.
"Um, well, I guess a tuna fish sandwich will be good."
"Right away!" So he began to fix a tuna sandwich for her. "Wheat or white?"
"Sourdough." She said plainly.
"Would you like everything in it?"
"Yeah. Hold the pickles, and add extra onions."
In a snap, the man finished the sandwich and wrapped it nicely in paper. "Here ya go. Anything else?"
"Um, no."
"That will be five dollars." He put out his hand, and Helga put five dollars in his palm. "Thank you! Come again!"
Helga walked out of the door and took a bite of his tuna sandwich. She had a very satisfied feeling once the first bite hit her stomach. It felt as if a little bit of heaven had dropped down in her mouth. She didn't know how hungry she was until she realized she was scarfing down her sandwich. "Mmm," she murmured, slightly licking her fingers clean.
Her onion breath traveled with the wind.
Abner, with the scent of a hound, eagerly tracked down this scent of onions which he loved so much and quickly led Abner, with Arnold following, to Helga's onionness. Suddenly, she was knocked over by a big pink pig, and fell hard on the sidewalk. She should have been able to see it coming, considering the loud trotting noise that approached her and the round pink thing running at the speed of light towards her.
"Ack," she shouted, trying to get Abner off of her. He was licking her face and oinking like crazy. He was pinning her down. She couldn't get him off.
Then there was suddenly a loud whistle, following a sharp "Abner!". The pig got off of her and circled around the tall figure towering above her.
She gacked and sat up on the ground.
"Here, let me help you up," he said, offering a hand. She took his hand and he pulled her up to his body.
"I only have one thing to ask," she said. "Why the hell did your pig attack me?" she growled.
Arnold sniffed the air. "Well, I think he thought you were made of onions or something." He chuckled. "Abner loves onions, don't you Abner?" The pig oinked in happiness.
Helga closed her mouth. Why did I ask for extra onions?, she thought miserably.
"So you like onions, I guess?"
"I guess." Her right foot circled around the sidewalk, looking away from Arnold's amazing eyes. "What are you doing out all by yourself?"
Helga shrugged. "I was hungry…and Miriam and Bob started biting each others' heads off. So it was kind of crazy."
Arnold nodded with understanding.
"What about you Arnoldo? What are you doing out here?"
"Just taking Abner out for a walk. Just to clear my mind, ya know?"
"Actually, no. I don't…" she said. Actually, yes. I do, she corrected herself in her mind. She drew in a deep breath, eager for a chance to escape, slowly changing the subject. "I guess I'd better get goin'."
"Would you like some company?" he asked very casually.
"Uh, whatever floats your boat…" she mumbled. "Just don't walk too close to me. I don't want people thinking we're walking together or anything."
"Of course, Helga." He grinned and they began to walk.
She put her hands in her jacket pockets, feeling quite out of place.
"How are things going with you?" Arnold asked. "It seems like it's been forever since the last time we've spoken to each other."
"Things are just okay, I guess," she shrugged. "Nothing really new is going on. What about with you? How is…er…life?"
"Life is life. There's no way to describe it."
"That's something to ponder." She chuckled. "I was thinking you'd say something more around the lines of, 'Life is wonderful. It's so full of optimism. There is nothing that can get it down!' You know, now that I think of it – you've got it made."
"I've got it made? What do you mean?" He arched his left eyebrow and looked at her strangely.
"I mean that you're on the varsity baseball team, all your teachers love you, you've got these grandparents that love you…"
"Please," Arnold put out his hand to Helga. "Don't even say it. I hate it when people say that kind of stuff to me. It just…sickens me."
"It sickens you?" Helga repeated in amazement. "Sickens you? To be perfect?"
"I'm far from perfect. You're closer than I am."
"What?" She looked at him and stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. Her ears heated up and she tried to hide it with her hands.
"Are your ears cold or something?" He wondered, looking at her cover her ears with her hands.
"No. Just, ugh, mind your own business!" she snapped back. She abhorred her automatic ways of pushing people away. She tried to fix it, but she couldn't. It was just that, it was hard for her to get close to someone – anyone.
Arnold looked away. "Well, here's your stop."
Helga looked across the street to see her house. "Oh. Yeah."
"Bye then." He walked away.
Helga groaned and stomped her right foot on the sidewalk. Why? Why must I always push him away?, she thought.
A/N: Hope you all can review!!!