Greetings Readers! Thanks for continuing to read, and I hope you like this chapter!

A special thanks to those who have reviewed:

Kpfan72941: I'm glad! Thank you!
Mony: I'm glad that his surprise was surprising! I hope you enjoy this chapter as well!
loonytunecrazy: Thanks! Yeah, Helga is pretty persuasive...haha. I like the concept of Dr. Bliss being close to them after all those years, and I am happy it's believable. As to Helga's very big secret...it's coming. Another part of her past will come back to haunt her in this chapter..dun dun DUN!
acosta perez jose ramiro: Well, I am very glad for the dinner suggestion - I was completely without ideas. Thanks!
WeeWee55: Merci! You'll have to wait for Helga's big secret (I can be very evil, bwahaha) but a part of her past is revealed in this chapter. Well, revealed to someone important to her - we already knew about it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hey Arnold! or any of its characters. Please don't rub it in.

Arnold looked up from the book he was attempting to read and glanced toward the closet, where his wife was currently trying on various outfits. Given the occasional grunt and the fact that the pile of discarded options were piled so high on the bed he had to lean up just to see over them, she still hadn't found the right one. He was busy trying to figure out just how she'd been able to fit that many outfits in the admittedly small closet when he heard her voice.

"How about this?"

Arnold placed the book on his knee and looked over at her; she was wearing a knee-length black dress with crimson ribbon lining the hem and sleeves. "You look beautiful," he said sincerely but detachedly; they'd been going through this process for the last hour.

She frowned. "You don't think it's too much?" He shrugged; how would he know? "I think it's too much," she said determinedly and flung said dress off her head and onto the pile.

Arnold kept from rolling his eyes with great difficulty. He supposed that he should be glad she decided to get dressed three hours before they left for the publisher's – at the time it seemed excessive, but he could now tell that they'd need all the time they could get.

A week had passed since they'd gotten the publisher's offer in the mail, and since then they'd been given an appointment to meet with the editors there to negotiate a deal. The delighted squeal Helga had given once the phone had been hung up probably could have been heard clear out to the boarding house, but in the interim she'd become increasingly nervous about their first meeting. Arnold had done the best he could to reassure her, but her inner insecurity had come to a head when she'd tried to figure out what to wear. And, being a dutiful husband as well as the only other person in the house, Arnold had to be there to lend his opinion – on apparently every piece of clothing she owned.

"What do you think?" Helga said, coming out of the closet wearing a pinstripe suit with a long red dress over one arm.

"You look fine."

Helga rolled her eyes, "No, Arnold. Which of these do you think would be better? The suit or the dress?" Not bothering to wait for an answer, she continued, "I thought at first the dress, but that seems too formal…but the suit seems too business-like…I don't know what to pick. What do you think?"

"I think you look beautiful in both of them."

Helga put the dress on the bed and parked her hands on her hips. "Arnold, the way this is going, I think you'd think I'd look beautiful naked!'

Arnold gave her an appreciative smirk, which made her face flame up. "Arnold!"

"What? I didn't say anything." He replied cheekily.

"Yes, but you were thinking – never mind." Helga tried to fight down the blush.

"Look, Helga. There's no need to stress about it – why don't you just wear slacks with a nice shirt? That wouldn't be too formal or casual."

Helga bit up her lip. "Arnold, don't take this the wrong way, but I really don't trust your opinion on clothes…you're a guy." She began listing towards the door. "Maybe I should call Phebes…"

Why do I need to be here, then, if you don't want my opinions? Arnold thought, but was too wise to say. Instead he said, "Go ahead. See what she has to say."

Helga hurried off to the phone in the kitchen, and Arnold leaned against the headboard of the bed and sighed. As much as he loved Helga, she really was driving him up the wall this morning. Still, he understood why she was acting like this – today was a big day for her. After years of keeping her writing a secret, and then a few years of very tentatively exposing her more creative side, her efforts had given fruit to recognition. It had been hard for him to understand at first why she'd kept those beautiful words to herself when they were children, but after time of truly getting to know her, it made sense. She hid the poetry not because it would ruin her tough image, but because it would reveal who she truly was. Helga kept up the appearance of a tough bully to shield her emotions, and the words she wrote were so true, so sincere, so genuine, that they could send the walls she'd built around herself crumbling into nothingness. That, and people might have started making inferences about the boy who was the subject of so many of the poems.

But she doesn't have to hide that anymore, Arnold thought to himself, smiling as Helga rushed back in, her face alight with relief. "So, what'd she have to say?"

He couldn't see her, but her voice came clearly through the door. "Oh, she's excited about the wedding – asked me about the decorations on the program. Hey, Arnold?"

"Yes?"

"Could we stop by my house after the meeting? Phoebe mentioned a drawing I did when we were in tenth grade that she thought would look nice on the program."

"Sure, we can do that. What did she say about clothes?"

"She thought this would be best." She stepped into the bedroom and struck a pose. "What do you think?"

He looked. She was wearing…slacks with a nice shirt. "That should work."

"Thank God for Phebes. I wouldn't have known what to do otherwise." She grinned. "Ready to go?"

"Sure. Let me go get the car while you lock up."

Arnold managed to keep his laughter under control until he was in the street, pulling his grandfather's Packard up to the curb to wait for Helga. As far as he could tell, marriage was all about compromise – and if not pointing out that he'd actually already given the exact same suggestion for clothes kept the marital peace, so be it.

However, in the mental scoreboard he was pretty sure all spouses kept in the back of their heads, he was chalking this up as a personal victory.

···

Traffic had been kind to them, and so they found themselves in the waiting area of the publisher's office twenty minutes before the appointment. Helga had remained composed for most of that time, but with five minutes left Arnold could feel her shifting nervously in the chair beside him. He looked at her to see her fingers drumming nervously in her lap as she bit her lip. Arnold reached over and placed his hand over hers; she gave a nervous jolt.

"You're going to do just fine." He smiled warmly.

"So optimistic." She weakly smiled back.

"So right," he countered before tilting her chin towards him. "For luck," he whispered before kissing her gently on the lips. She relaxed into the kiss, so much that she didn't even notice that his hands were around her wrist. When they pulled apart, she gave a more genuine smile and then noticed the tightness around her wrist. Looking down, she saw a pink ribbon tied like a bracelet with a lover's knot – a ribbon so frayed and faded that it looked more gray than pink. Helga's face lit up in recognition and her eyes filled with happy tears as she looked into Arnold's face.

He smiled. "I found it in a box of old things. I thought you might want to wear it – for confidence, you know?"

"Yes. Thank you." She gave him a very grateful kiss, breaking off in time for a receptionist to walk in.

"Mrs. Helga – ?" The receptionist began, but then saw that the two were the only ones in the room. "Are you ready, ma'am?"

Helga stood up, all confidence in her manner now. "Yes, I am."

Arnold stood up and kissed her cheek. "Good luck, honey. Hit them with your take-no-prisoners attitude – you can do it."

She squeezed his hand and then followed the receptionist, straight-backed and tall.

An hour later, Arnold was regretting having not followed her into the meeting – not because he doubted his wife's ability to negotiate, but because he was nearly out of his mind with boredom. He listlessly leafed through a Times magazine before placing it to the side and groaning. It made absolutely no sense to him that a company focused on publishing what was new and fresh would keep two-year-old magazines in their waiting room. It was like waiting in a dentist's office, except that there was no smell of Novocain or any fear that a dentist would suddenly lunge at you with dental equipment.

His renowned patience was about to snap when Helga walked out of the office with a young businessman, talking animatedly. She gave the man a brisk handshake and then walked over to Arnold, grinning.

Arnold stood up and hugged her. "Did it go well?"

"Yup." She grinned even bigger, "Come on, I'll tell you on the way to my parents' house."

···

The two walked hand-in-hand up to the door of Helga's old house. Helga reached up and rang the doorbell, and then leaned against the porch walls. Arnold raised an eyebrow inquisitively at her before asking. "Why don't you just use your key?"

"Don't need to," she replied, "Olga should be home. She's house-sitting for Big Bob and Miriam while they're off in the Bahamas for Christmas. That's why we came over for Thanksgiving, remember?"

"Oh, yeah." Arnold said, "But why didn't Olga go with them?"

"They needed someone to house-sit," Helga shrugged, 'and it gives her more time to spend with her boyfriend before he's deployed."

Arnold gave her an appraising glance out of the corner of his eye, but she simply seemed mildly impatient about having to wait to get inside the house – the mention of her sister didn't make her as defensive as it had in the past. Then again, the relationship between the two sisters had improved immensely from the past. Olga had relieved some of the pressure on herself to be perfect, making her slightly more realistic, and Helga had lowered her self-imposed pressure to live up to her sister. Theirs was a very tentative friendship, but both relied on each other than they had before, and Olga had become more relaxed when she'd begun dating her current boyfriend. He was training to be a marine and was the first guy interested in her that Helga didn't label a sleaze ball. He knew Helga found being around her sister these days more bearable and even enjoyable at times, but there were some parts about Olga that she still couldn't stand.

"Hello, Baby Sister!"

Like that nickname.

Helga imperceptibly gritted her teeth at the nickname, but smiled as her sister came down the steps and hugged her. Helga returned the embrace and then let Olga essentially drag her into the house, Arnold following closely behind. "It's been so long, Helga! How are you doing? How is Arnold?"

Whereas the stream of rapid, somewhat high-pitched questions once would have irritated Helga; now she merely laughed good-naturedly. Olga was Olga, and there wasn't much she could do about it. "I'm fine, Olga, and so is Arnold. Actually, I'm better than that – my book's getting published."

Olga let out a jubilant squeal. "Oh, how terribly wonderful! My baby sister, a real authoress. You must let me treat you to lunch!"

Helga smiled apologetically. "Sorry, Olga, we really can't stay long – I just came to find something that Phoebe wants to use for the wedding."

"Oh," Olga's face fell slightly before returning to its usual perky expression, "that's fine, Helga. David is coming over later anyway. I pulled down some of your old things after you called – maybe what you're looking for is in there."

Olga led the two over to a stack of dusty cardboard boxes. With deft fingers, Helga quickly sifted through their contents – and then frowned. "No, these are from middle school; I'm looking for something later than that. Where are the other boxes?"

"In the attic!" Olga chirped.

"Okay, I need to go check up there, then." Helga sighed. "Arnold, is it okay with you if you stay down here while I look?"

"Of course he can!" Olga exclaimed, "We can talk some while you're up there. I want to get to better know my brother-in-law!"

Arnold's smile was a little wary, but he nodded. Helga shot him a grateful, sympathetic look before running up the stairs. Arnold let Olga lead him to a couch in the living room and sat down. He didn't mind this, really – out of Helga's family, he felt most comfortable around Olga. That didn't keep him from gulping slightly as she eagerly leaned towards him.

"Now, I want to hear all about your job."

He inwardly groaned.

A cloud of dust blossomed out of the boxes as she quickly rummaged through them, but Helga didn't care. Her mission for Phoebe aside, she was getting a kick out of the old memories floating amidst the dust. She'd enjoyed high school a lot more than her earlier schooling, as she'd mellowed out a little and had more friendly relationships. She smiled a picture of herself, Phoebe, and Brainy at a school picnic, dusted off a program from one of the drama department's plays that she'd written, and tenderly cupped the withered remains of the corsage Arnold had given her for the prom in her palm. She found the symbol Phoebe had mentioned on a napkin acting as a bookmark in their senior yearbook and put it in her purse. After a few minutes of deliberation, she decided to bring the entire box down – she'd find some place to cram it when they got back home, and she wanted to show Arnold what she'd found.

Sending a silent apology to her husband for abandoning him to the scrutiny of her sister, she carefully made her way down the stairs. She heard Olga before she saw her.

"Oh, it doesn't surprise me that they published her story. Baby Sister has always been creative. Just look at this," - Helga could hear pages being turned - "isn't that wonderfully unique and different? She's always been wonderfully distinct."

Her curiosity peaked, Helga turned the corner into the living room and saw her sister sitting beside Arnold, pointing at the pages of a photo album. Helga moved closer, got a better look at the pictures – and her heart stopped. Her mouth dropped open, as did the box out of her arms.

That wasn't just any album. It was an album her sister had made years ago. An album that held a secret she didn't want anyone to know about – especially Arnold. Now that he'd seen it, her life was over.

It was an album of her Arnold closet shrines.

A/N: Dun dun DUN! Arnold sees the shrines! What will he do? What does Helga think he'll do? This is NOT the same secret as the one Helga keeps referring to...but it's been revealed anyway. Oops.

I like the title for this one: coming out of the closet has a very distinct connotation in today's society...but I didn't mean it like that. What I was referring to was Helga's closet shrines. I thought it was funny...ah well.

Anyway, I hope that you enjoyed this chapter! Thanks for reading and please review! They make me happy (and speed up the updating process *cough*)