[A/N: Hey guys! Sorry it's taken me so long to update. It might be relatively spaced out between chapters cuz holy crap am I busy! Between 3 jobs and being a full time student, I kind of have a lot on my plate! But I am committed to this story and promise to only put out long chapters to make up for the wait times :) (Oh, and btw, I had an idea for a new story and I am FIGHTING MYSELF to keep from starting that one simultaneously with this one lol But oh MAN am I excited for my new idea ;))

Anywho, I hope you guys like this chapter and let me know what you thought!

I don't own Hey Arnold]

Everyone had already begun eating dinner when the time came for Helga and Arnold to make their speeches. The DJ introduced Helga first and she stood up, taking a microphone that one of Phoebe's aunts brought over to their table.

"Can you hear me?" She spoke into the mic. "Yup, alright, well… wow… see, when I realized I had to give a speech about Phoebe and Gerald, I was like, 'No sweat'. I mean, I've known them forever," Helga shrugged. "But the more I thought about it, I realized that this wouldn't be such an easy thing to do. You see, I've known these two almost my entire life – since I was three years old – and in that time, Phoebe and I became a sort of… dynamic duo, if you will… She was always by my side, even when I didn't deserve it. To say the least, I was a bit of a handful," Phoebe's eyes were glistening behind her glasses and she smiled as Gerald draped his arm across her chair, both of them watching Helga. "But she taught me what friendship is really about and I know that no matter where she goes in life, she will always be bringing her compassion, understanding, and patience with her," Helga smirked and shot a good-humored look at the two of them. "And thank goodness, since she's married to this guy now," Helga jerked a thumb at them and everyone chuckled at their tables. "Really though, I've watched this thing between them grow from a seed of attraction to a delicate infatuation to the ever-evolving love you see before you today. I see two people who find balance in each other and who seem to be so perfectly matched you'd think the planets aligned just right in order for them to cross paths twenty-some years ago. I've known Phoebe almost my entire life and never do I see her as happy as I do whenever you're around, Gerald," Helga looked at him and he smiled. "We may have butt heads when we were kids but honestly, I couldn't have picked a better guy for my best friend if I held auditions," Helga reached behind her and picked up her champagne glass, lifting it up. "And on that note, I'd like to congratulate Phoebe and Gerald on this huge step they've taken, which we all saw coming," She winked. "To Phoebe and Gerald!" Everyone clinked their glasses and took sips of their champagne. "Take good care of her," Helga said as an aside. "Don't make me bring Ol' Betsy outta retirement," She smirked and Gerald gave a good-natured eye roll.

"You're up, Football-head," Helga said to Arnold as she handed the microphone off to him.

"And now, our best man will grace us with his own toast," The DJ said, getting everyone to quiet down again.

Arnold tapped the mic before he spoke. "Just like Helga, I've known Gerald and Phoebe since we were little kids. We all grew up together in the same neighborhood, going to the same school, and you learn a lot about people that way. I didn't realize back then how certain little things were indicators of what was to come. And yeah Gerald, that includes all those times you thought no one saw you looking at Phoebe with a big smile on your face," Everyone chuckled and Gerald smirked. "When we were kids, there was a time when Gerald didn't know how to ride a bike," Arnold glanced at Phoebe and Gerald, then turned back to the crowd. "If he knew back then that I'd be bringing this up on his wedding day, he'd be having a conniption but hear me out! As far back as I can remember, I've always had the role of advice-giver and I've always tried to help people out when they needed it. So when Gerald confessed to me that he never learned how to ride a bike, I made it my mission to get this guy riding like a pro. Or at least without training wheels," Everyone laughed again and Gerald even chuckled to himself a bit as Phoebe giggled. "We practiced and practiced and for a while, Gerald just kept crashing into things – traffic cones, trash cans, piles of tires. Eventually he did get the hang of it but in a way, I think riding a bike is a metaphor for the life you two are going to share," Arnold looked at Phoebe and Gerald. "Here's the thing: when Gerald was crashing into things, those obstructive objects were where his attention was but when you focus on where you want to go and not where you don't want to go, it's a lot easier to accomplish what you set out to do. I've never been married so as far as advice-giving goes, I think the roles are gonna reverse soon, at least in this area. But what I will say is this: as long as you two stay positive and keep your focus on your goals and not your obstacles, working as a team and pedaling through life together, I know you'll go far," Arnold held up his glass. "To Mr. and Mrs. Johanssen!"

Everyone clinked their glasses and downed their champagne as the DJ started the music back up with a funky dance song. People resumed socializing, some of them coming out to the dance floor with the encouragement of their alcoholic beverages.

Helga got herself a drink from the bartender and returned to her seat at the wedding party table.

"What'd you get?" Arnold asked when she sat down.

"Jack n' Coke," she said, taking a sip. This wasn't her first drink and she was already starting to feel the effects.

"Can I try it?" Arnold asked, testing the waters.

Helga raised an eyebrow. "You've never had one before?" She laughed. "Criminy, Football-head. You really do live under a rock, don't you?" She teased as she passed him her glass.

Arnold took a sip, contemplating whether he liked it or not. "It's good," He finally nodded.

Helga took her drink back and raised her eyebrows once. "Yup,"

"Well, how lovely it is to see you two here," A velvety voice sing-songed and Arnold and Helga looked up to see Rhonda Lloyd standing in front of their table. "It's been so long,"

"Hey Rhonda," Arnold said politely as Helga shrunk down in her seat the slightest bit.

"So!" She clasped her hands together. "Are you both here together?" She gave a coy smile.

"Well—" Arnold started to answer but Helga cut him off.

"We are both here. At the same time. Yup," She smiled, half wanting Rhonda to go away and half wanting to start laughing at herself.

Rhonda raised an eyebrow at her old classmate. "…Indeed,"

Their conversation was cut short when the DJ announced it was time for Phoebe to throw her bouquet.

"Oh, how marvelous!" Rhonda exclaimed. "I love this part,"

Helga didn't make a move to stand up but when the other bridesmaids started calling to her she decided it was probably some unwritten rule that the maid of honor participate in this event. Helga stood up from the table, a slight dizzy spell swirling in her head before she composed herself and went over to the crowd of girls standing behind Phoebe.

"Alright girls, are you ready?" Phoebe called, her never-fading smile just as bright and cheery as it had been for hours now.

Helga stood toward the back of the group, arms crossed, and as Phoebe tossed the bouquet, all of the girls squealed in their attempt at catching it, only to be sorely disappointed when it hit Helga smack dab in her chest. The girls looked at her expectantly as she stood there dumbly until one of them whispered for her to pick it back up.

Helga, wide-eyed, reached to the floor and retrieved the bouquet as everyone clapped, albeit some did so begrudgingly.

"Oh boy, how do ya like that," Gerald smirked as he shook his head. "Helga caught the bouquet,"

Arnold was watching earnestly. "Yup,"

"Now comes the fun part," Gerald said with a wink before going over to the center of the room where Phoebe had already sat down in a chair someone had pulled out for her.

Many of the guests, male and female, hooted and hollered as Gerald dove headfirst under Phoebe's wedding gown in search of the garter. Phoebe blushed a bright pink, giggling all the while, before Gerald finally emerged with the garment in his hand.

"Alright," The DJ said through the microphone. "All you single guys out there, you know what to do,"

"Go on, Arnold," Rhonda nudged him with a devilish smirk.

"Uh," Arnold stammered. "I-I think I'll sit this one out, I—"

"Hey," Gerald called out to the crowd of guys forming around him. "Isn't the best man supposed to be out here for this?"

Arnold sighed, slightly embarrassed as every eye turned to him.

"Come on, Arnold!" Sid called from the middle of the room.

"Okay, okay," Arnold said, reaching behind him and grabbing Helga's glass to take a swig. "I'm coming,"

He took a spot in the crowd, unsure whether he even wanted to catch it or not… he was relatively aware of the tradition that followed this event. The other guys eagerly anticipated Gerald tossing Phoebe's garter into the crowd as Arnold stood there, stuck in his own head.

The likelihood of me even catching it is—

"Well, whaddaya know!" The DJ mused. "What a match! The maid of honor and the best man, ladies and gentlemen!"

Everyone clapped as Arnold turned beat-red. He stole a look at Helga who was looking anywhere but at him.

"Wouldn't be the first time, eh?" Sid elbowed Arnold playfully as he passed by and that did nothing to help Arnold's blush.

Phoebe ushered Helga into her seat in the center of the dance floor and Arnold gulped as everyone formed a circle around them, watching.

I can't believe this is happening. Helga kept repeating to herself in her head, every muscle in her body feeling tense with anticipation and fear.

Arnold slowly walked up to her, praying that his blush wasn't as visible as it felt.

"So, uh…" He stretched the garter in his hand, it's lacy fabric all the more intimidating.

"Just do it, Football-head," Helga said through gritted teeth.

Arnold swallowed and knelt down in front of Helga as many of the guys whistled. Helga curled her bottom lip in and bit it, her breath caught in her throat as she watched Arnold gingerly slip her foot through the garter and slowly slide it up her leg. His skin barely swept across the inside of her knee and she suddenly felt warm. His gaze was intent, never straying from the garter as he pushed it up farther to the middle of her thigh. Helga could have imploded right there and the disappointment when Arnold was no longer touching her felt like a deflating balloon.

Everyone cheered, of course, as Arnold stood up, his heart racing and beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

"Not a word," Arnold said to Gerald and Sid as he returned to the table, still trying to will his blush away.

The two guys just looked at each other and smirked. "Not a word," Gerald nodded before wiggling his eyebrows and purring.

"Arghhhh," Arnold groaned as he plopped into his seat and the guys cracked up.

. . . . . . . .

The rest of the night went smoothly. Everyone was having a good time – drinking, laughing, socializing, dancing. Helga had really started to loosen up and was out on the dance floor actually dancing with the other girls. Arnold remained seated at the wedding party table, watching Helga and awkwardly unsure of what to do with himself.

"So," Sid said as he took a seat next to Arnold, following his gaze. "Helga's back in town, huh?"

"Uh, what?" Arnold came out of his daze. "Oh, umm, yeah,"

"Remember that time back in high school at Rhonda's house when you and Helga—"

"Make your point, Sid," Arnold cut him off, subtlely shrinking down in his seat. How many times was he going to blush tonight?

"I was just wondering, since, uh, I heard she's staying at the boarding house with you, if you two are… ya know…" Sid trailed off.

Arnold's eyes bugged out. "O-oh, no! We aren't - I mean, I, she… umm… no…" He swallowed, quietly groaning.

"So," Sid looked into the crowd at Helga. "You're saying she's available?" He grinned.

Suddenly Arnold felt very annoyed. "No, I-I need to go. See ya, Sid," Arnold said and abruptly stood up and walked away.

What am I doing? Arnold thought to himself but as the music changed, he found himself approaching Helga and tapping her gently on the shoulder.

She spun around to face him and the curly wisps of hair around her face, now loosened from dancing, bounced against her skin. "Hey Arnold," She smiled playfully. Her face was flushed but her expression was relaxed. Happy. "How's it goin'?"

Without even trying, Arnold smiled broadly. "It's great… I was wondering if you wanted to dance with me?"

"It would be your honor," Helga said, then burst into laughter as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"How many trips did you take to the bar?" Arnold smirked.

"Only a few," Helga pouted at him. "I'm not trashed, Footballhead,"

"I know," He chuckled as they began to sway to the music.

Lyin' here with you so close to me,
It's hard to fight these feelings when it feels so hard to breathe.
Caught up in this moment,
Caught up in your smile.

"You seem like you're having a good time," Arnold commented as he rested his hands at the small of her back.

"Doi, it's a wedding," Helga laughed, throwing her head back, and when she met Arnold's gaze he felt a strange spark in his chest. "That's what you're supposed to do,"

"Yeah," He said absent-mindedly.

I've never opened up to anyone.
So hard to hold back when I'm holding you in my arms.
We don't need to rush this,
Let's just take it slow.

As they danced, swaying in circles around the floor, Helga felt peaceful. Sure, she had a good buzz going from the alcohol but she didn't want to attribute it solely to that. Though, that may have been what was allowing her to enjoy this in the first place rather than run away. Arnold asked her to dance, not because he had to but because he wanted to. And god, he looked so handsome in his tux with tufts of his wild blonde hair sticking up in every direction. He smelled like soap, cologne, and the slightest bit of sweat and Helga was completely entranced by it. Her head was spinning, her heart was spinning, the room was spinning, and it was only them.

Just a kiss on your lips in the moonlight,
Just a touch of the fire burning so bright,
No I don't want to mess this thing up,
I don't want to push too far.
Just a shot in the dark that you just might
Be the one I've been waiting for my whole life,
So baby I'm alright, with just a kiss goodnight.

The longer they danced, the more Arnold felt like some sort of magnet was pulling them closer together. He couldn't explain it, nor did he understand it, but he wanted to be close to her. It was amazing how someone could change so much in the time you knew them. To go from a scowling, one-eyebrowed hellion of a girl to a beautiful, somewhat relaxed but still sharp-witted and enigmatic woman seemed confusing yet inevitable. He'd be lying if he tried to say there hadn't always been something intriguing about her.

I know that if we give this a little time,
It'll only bring us closer to the love we wanna find.
It's never felt so real, no it's never felt so right.

Helga's head was spinning and her inhibitions were lowered. Arnold's green eyes mesmerized her and she felt so peaceful. Everything felt perfect and every fiber of her being was swooning on the inside. As they moved around the dance floor, voices and sounds in the room dulled by the enchantment of this moment, Helga rested her head against Arnold's chest, causing his heartbeat to pick up. It didn't take long for Arnold to gently rest his own head against the top of hers.

Just a kiss on your lips in the moonlight,
Just a touch of the fire burning so bright,
No I don't want to mess this thing up,
I don't want to push too far.

Just a shot in the dark that you just might
Be the one I've been waiting for my whole life,
So baby I'm alright, with just a kiss goodnight.

As the song drew to a close, Arnold and Helga lifted their heads, meeting each other's gaze. For a brief moment, they were completely captivated, eyes searching eyes for any hidden truths that lay beneath the surface. Windows into the soul.

"Thanks for the dance," Helga suddenly felt bashful and took a step back.

"Oh," Arnold said, somewhat dismayed at the loss of contact. "Yeah… yeah, of course,"

. . . . . . . .

Most of the lights were off in the boarding house when Arnold and Helga got home. Arnold unlocked the door and they went inside, tiptoeing all the while in an attempt to avoid waking anyone up. Neither of them was drunk, though they were still relaxed and feeling comfortable with one another. Arnold shut and locked the front door and the two of them began to ascend the staircase. From the stairs, Helga quietly pointed toward the living room where Grandpa was sleeping on the couch, a dim table lamp giving off a soft, warm light as the old man snored. His face was grimaced and he clutched a pillow close to his chest.

Helga looked to Arnold for some sort of answer but he only shook his head and gestured for them to continue up the stairs. They crept through the hallway until reaching Helga's door.

"Tonight was fun," Arnold said in a hushed tone.

"Yeah," Helga whispered, leaning back against the wooden frame of her door. "Our friends should get married more often," She said playfully.

There it was again. Arnold could feel the air around them was thick and her eyes were pulling him in like the undertoe at the beach. The way the waves sloshed you around and you knew you were in something much more powerful than yourself – that's how he felt. His gaze fell to her soft, pink lips and the subtle overbite she retained from childhood. He wanted to touch her, hold her… he felt himself starting to lean in closer.

"Well, uh, goodnight," Arnold said abruptly, forcing himself out of his trance.

"Oh," Helga said, slightly disappointed. "Yeah… goodnight,"

. . . . . . . .

Wednesday, July 3rd

"Happy birthday, Pookie," Grandpa said, setting a card in front of Grandma at the dining room table. Everyone had gotten up that morning to have breakfast together for her birthday, including the boarders. Arnold had made pancakes and eggs and finally sat down between Helga and Grandma to eat his own breakfast just as everyone else was almost finished.

"Me?" Grandma looked at Grandpa, confused. "It's not my birthday,"

"Yes it is, Grandma," Arnold reassured as he took a bite of his scrambled eggs. They were cold but he was too hungry to care. "July 3rd,"

"No kidding?" She turned to him, then picked up the card curiously.

"Yup," Arnold nodded, then picked up a different card that had been sitting in the middle of the table. "I got you a card, too,"

"Oh, this is just too sweet," Grandma said, fumbling to get into Grandpa's card. "You're all so kind,"

"Here," Helga said, catching Arnold's attention immediately as she reached behind her and pulled another card off of the hutch. "This one's from me,"

Grandma's expression was that of surprise and awe. "I just don't know what to say,"

"Let me help you with that, Grandma," Arnold said as he spent the rest of breakfast helping Grandma open her cards and reading them to her.

After breakfast, Arnold was clearing the table and putting the dirty dishes in the kitchen to be cleaned when Helga walked in with a couple dishes to add to the sink.

"Thanks," Arnold said, taking them from her, then looking past her at his grandparents – Grandpa helping Grandma to the living room. "And thanks for getting my grandma that card. That was really nice of you,"

Helga shrugged. "No sweat,"

"So what are you doing today?" Arnold asked casually. They hadn't spoken of what had almost happened the night of the wedding and neither was sure if the other was still thinking about it or not.

"Eh," Helga shrugged. "Probably gonna see if I can look up some financial aid stuff, see when my books for school are gonna be ready to order, yadda yadda,"

"Sounds fun," Arnold joked sarcastically.

"About as much fun as you're gonna have working at the liquor store?" Helga said smugly, leaning an elbow against the counter as Arnold began washing dishes.

"Ugh," He groaned. "Don't remind me,"

Helga thought for a moment. "How many classes did you try to take before?"

"Two," Arnold replied. "Why?"

"What if you only took one? It'd probably be cheaper and if you picked one you liked—"

"Helga, I really would rather not talk about this," Arnold said gruffly.

Helga went on, "I know you said it didn't work out before but I think—"

"Helga," Arnold said a little more forcefully and she immediately shut up. "It's not even an option, okay?"

Helga took her arm off the counter. "Yeah… okay," She said and walked out of the kitchen.

Arnold groaned, then resumed vigorously scrubbing a plate.

. . . . . . . .

Grandpa was putting the finishing touches on dinner. He'd made it clear to everyone that they were on their own tonight as he was making a special, romantic dinner for himself and Grandma. In all his years, he only knew how to make a few things and so tonight's menu consisted of salmon in a lemon butter sauce, roasted potatoes, and green beans. Even if she didn't remember him or know who he was, she was still his wife and the love of his life and he'd be damned if he didn't treat her as such.

A candle was lit and set in the center of the table with places set for two. The rest of the lights were dimmed and Grandma was waiting in the living room, completely oblivious. When Grandpa finally had everything ready, he went to retrieve his wife.

"Pookie," He said as he entered the living room. "Dinner's ready,"

"I'm not really hungry," Grandma said as she stared absent-mindedly at the television.

"Oh, c'mon," Grandpa said, grabbing the remote and turning it off. "I've got something special for ya,"

"You do?" Grandma said with child-like inquisitiveness as Grandpa helped her out of her seat. "For what?"

"For your birthday," Grandpa reaffirmed and Grandma gasped.

"It's my birthday?" She laughed. "I must have forgotten all about it!"

"I know, Pookie," Grandpa said quietly as they entered the dining room.

A plain white table cloth with lace at the edges covered the table and the candlelight flickered, casting shadows against the paneled walls. Grandpa had already brought out their dinners, glasses, and a bottle of red wine, all of which sat waiting for consumption.

"This is beautiful," Grandma said. "This is for me?"

"It's all for you," Grandpa nodded and escorted her to her chair before making his way to his own seat. "Oh, almost forgot!" He said, going into the other room for a moment before Dino Spumoni's voice echoed through the empty house.

"Dino Spumoni," Grandma swooned. "Oh, I love his music," She said dreamily and Grandpa smiled before sitting down and the two of them started to eat.

"I can't believe you did all this for me," Grandma said, taking a bite of one of the potatoes. "Where did you learn to cook?"

"You taught me a few things," Grandpa smiled at her and popped a forkful of salmon into his mouth.

"I did?" Grandma asked in surprise.

"Yep, you did," Grandpa nodded. "And I've got dessert once you're done with that,"

"Oh," Grandma said humbly. "This is all too much. You're so thoughtful…"

"Hold that thought," Grandpa said, getting up from the table and going into the kitchen. Grandma looked around the room, catching her reflection in the glass doors of the hutch. It didn't make sense for her to look so old. Was that even her? It couldn't be.

Grandpa returned carrying a hot baking pan, his hands protected by oven mitts. He sat the pan on a heat-resistant place mat in the middle of the table.

"What is that?" Grandma asked, leaning closer to catch a peek.

"Raspberry cobbler," Grandpa answered. "Your favorite… it never really agreed with me but—"

"Can I have some?" Grandma asked, looking up at him.

"O-of course," Grandpa pulled a spatula out of one of the hutch drawers and cut a piece for her, setting it on an empty spot on her plate.

Grandma picked up her fork and took a bite, reveling. "Mmmm… this is wonderful," She took another bite, closing her eyes and enjoying. "I do love raspberry,"

Grandpa smiled at his wife. That'd always been a thing between them. While he always advised everyone to 'Never eat raspberries' considering how fervently his gastrointestinal tract despised them, his wife could never get enough. He spent a good portion of their marriage in the bathroom for her sake but he wouldn't change a thing if you gave him the chance.

The record player in the next room switched to a different, slower song and Grandpa sat the spatula down on the table. "You wanna dance, Pookie?"

Grandma nodded and allowed Grandpa to help her up. He took one of her hands in his, resting the other at her hip and the two of them swayed in time with the music, their older bodies worn out and slow but naturally falling into a familiar rhythm.

"You're so good to me," Grandma said suddenly, breaking the silence and Grandpa's eyes darted immediately to hers. They were wet with the threat of tears.

"Oh, no no no, don't do that," Grandpa said, taking a hand and gently wiping under one eye with the side of his finger.

Grandma smiled wistfully and moved into his arms. "What's wrong with me?" She asked with a sad sense of desperation.

"Nothing," Grandpa shushed. "Nothing's wrong with you, you just went away for a little while," He said, pulling her into a hug and kissing the top of her head.

"I love you, Phil," She said, her voice muffled against his collar.

"I love you, too, Pookie," Grandpa's eyes watered and he fought to keep his voice from breaking.

"What's gonna happen to me?" Grandma said, pulling back. "How long will this last?"

Grandpa shrugged. "I dunno… it doesn't happen often and when it does, only a few minutes,"

Grandma's brow furrowed and she looked away.

"It'll be okay, Pookie," Grandpa reassured, though part of him was unsure as to whether he was comforting her or himself.

Grandma turned to him quietly and her muscles tensed. "Wait a minute… what, what are you doing?"

"I—"

"Get your hands off me!" Grandma pushed him away. "Help!" She called out. "Who are you? Am I supposed to know you?"

Grandpa stepped toward her. "Pookie, it's me, Phil,"

"Why are you calling me that?" She turned and started hurrying away, all the while worrying Grandpa that she'd fall over. "Don't come any closer! Help!"

It was at this moment that Arnold walked in, home from work to find his grandparents in the living room.

"Hey, how's it—"

"Oh, I'm so glad you're here," Grandma said to Arnold. "Please, get him out of here!"

"Grandma, what are you talking—"

Grandpa continued to follow her, completely worried that she was going to fall if she kept this up. She was trying to move faster than her elderly body could handle.

"Don't come any closer!" Grandma shouted and grabbed a book from the coffee table and threw it at Phil, hitting him in the leg.

"Oww!"

"Grandma, come on," Arnold went over to her and tried to gently grab her arm and escort her but she shoved him off. "Get off of me!" She picked up the TV remote and threw it at Phil who was still too close. Grandma tried to get away but stumbled and Arnold barely caught her before she hit the floor.

Grandpa's eyes were watering and a couple tears had already escaped down the sides of his face as Arnold pulled Grandma back up to her feet.

"Who are you?" She redirected at Grandpa once she was upright and stable again. "Get him out of here, Miles, don't you understand?"

"Huh?" Arnold raised an eyebrow.

Grandma picked up a vase of flowers on the end table by the couch and threw it at Grandpa, almost hitting him in the head, had he not ducked in time.

No one heard keys rattling or the sound of the front door opening or closing, nor did they notice Helga standing in the foyer, shocked into place at the scene unfolding before her.

"Pookie, please," Grandpa pleaded.

"Get away from me, I'm warning you!" She reached to grab a set of glass coasters from the coffee table when Arnold grabbed her arm.

"No, you have to stop throwing things!" He struggled against her before finally wrangling the container out of her hand.

"Miles, why don't you do something!?" Grandma exclaimed angrily.

"That's not Miles!" Grandpa shouted, his voice breaking.

"You don't tell me what to do!" Grandma shot Grandpa a fierce look. "Get back!" She looked around, desperately trying to find something to throw or defend herself with.

"That's Arnold, Pookie. That's our grandson and I'm Phil," Grandpa said.

"I don't have a grandson!" Grandma glared. "Miles—"

"Miles is dead!" Grandpa yelled in complete desperation and anguish.

"No, he's not!" Grandma yelled back. "How… how dare you?" She said quietly, her voice shaky.

Grandpa couldn't handle anymore and just went back into the dining room to clean up dinner, his eyes flooded with tears.

Arnold swallowed the black cloud that was moving in over his heart. Grandma was calming down and her expression was vacant, her eyes glassy. "How about some TV, Grandma?"

Grandma gave a small nod and sat down on the couch. "Yes, TV sounds nice," She smiled up at him as he walked over and manually turned the TV back on. "Thank you,"

Arnold nodded at her, then hurried out of the room. When he almost ran into Helga in the foyer, he stopped dead in his tracks. Had she seen all of that?

He didn't know. He didn't care. He couldn't care. He needed to get out.

"Arnold, I—" Helga started but Arnold brushed past her and hurried outside, shutting the door behind him.

Helga paused and looked into the living room again. Grandma was content again, watching TV from the couch and Grandpa was in the kitchen doing dishes. She looked behind her at the front door. Should she follow him? What the hell did she just walk into?

Without too much more thought, Helga sat the paperbag holding her burger and fries down on the table in the foyer and darted outside to follow Arnold.

[A/N: The song in this chapter was "Just a Kiss" by Lady Antebellum.]