Author's Note: Like I said on Deviant Art, I apologize for this taking so long to get out, but I've had a ridiculous year (kids' schooling/graduations, ongoing medical problems, sharing my computer with others, and plainly being busy). I've held onto this chapter for a year now, revising it over and over again, but it still bugs me. However, instead of holding onto it any longer, I'm putting it up for others to read so we can get to the better chapters.

Disclaimer: Nowhere in the show did it ever say she's an accident, that there's a son who was stillborn, or that Miriam had lots of miscarriages, but when you consider the huge age difference between her and Olga, you start to wonder a bit. I used some of my own life as an example. I had miscarriage after miscarriage before my oldest was born, and I had a difficult time getting pregnant between my oldest's birth and my youngest's. I, myself, was born many years after my brothers' births (a cheery way of saying "accidental birth," lol). As for the son bit, I took liberties with that. I figure that Bob always wanted a son and also figured that some of his treatment towards Miriam and Helga could be because of losing one (or losing the possibility to have one, as I wrote that they did after Helga was born).

Thanks to my /co/ bros for giving me the kick in the ass I needed to get this updated. And I apologize if the formatting gets killed. Why the hell does this site have to make uploading a Word Document so damn difficult?

Sometimes I'm tired, sometimes I'm shot,
Sometimes I don't know how much more I've got.
Maybe I'm headed over the hill,
Maybe I've set myself up for the kill.
Tell me how much do you think you can take
Until the heart in you is starting to break?
Sometimes it feels like it will.

Darling, I don't know why I go to extremes;
Too high or too low - there ain't no in-betweens.
You can be sure when I'm gone,
I won't be out there too long.
Darling, I don't know why I go to extremes.

From "I Go To Extremes" by Billy Joel.

She was pins and needles while waiting for Arnold to get there for visiting hours. Every few minutes, she'd look out the big glass window that had become her favorite spot, and when she didn't see him, she'd turn away sadly and continue pacing in front of the phone.

He's nine minutes late! Where the hell is he?

Jesus, Helga, relax. Anything could have happened. He'll have a good reason.

Don't say anything! I don't need those thoughts running through my head! Oh, God! What if something happened to him?

Nothing happened to him, you idiot. Maybe work kept him. I mean, he has to have a job, right?

I hope it was a job. Or his car. Or heavy traffic. I…I don't want to think he forgot about me.

For his sake, he'd better not forgotten, or he's getting socked by Ol' Bets in his freakish face!

What if there's someone else? He still hangs around Lila….

No! You will NOT think like that, old girl! And…well, he wouldn't. This is Arnold.

Well, he WAS practically groping me via phone earlier.

Yeah, there's that, too.

She sighed and peered out the window again for what had to be the hundredth time, hoping he was out there. She was already arguing with herself which was never a good thing.

A quick peek showed her that no new cars had pulled into the parking lot.

He's not coming.

Biting her lower lip to suppress a whimper, she reluctantly sat down on one of the oversized fuchsia pleather chairs. The longer Arnold was, the more she nibbled on her fingernails - an old habit she hadn't used in a while.

Face it, Helga. He's not coming.

He'll have a good excuse!

Oh, sure! It'll be a great excuse! "Gee, Helga, I'm sorry I forgot all about you while Lila was sticking her tongue down my throat! She was just trying to dislodge a piece of food that got stuck!"

Lila is married.

Married people cheat. Do you need a reminder?

Arnold…he…he's not like that….

Oh, good! And now we're reduced to whining! Footballface is not worth all of this! This is pathetic!

Don't start. You start talking like Bob, and I'll force you so far down in my mind that even my subconscious won't find you.

I doubt it. Really, you should be used to people neglecting you. Why is this any different?

The only answers she had were tears.

After getting her crying under control, she glanced at the clock on the wall and noticed that it was nearly 7:45. With only so many minutes of visiting time left, she decided to give up on Arnold and wander off to her room for the night to find escape in her dreams.

Just as she was standing up, a hand touched her shoulder. "Going somewhere without me?" Before she could reply, she was spun around into a warm embrace. "I'm sorry I'm late. There was an accident on Delridge Way that was blocking all lanes, and I was stuck waiting until they opened it back up."

"A likely story." She poked him in the belly, and he blushed. "Who was the hot brunette with the killer rack?"

"Say what?" He grabbed her hand and led her to a couch.

She eased down onto the seat and giggled. "Oh, please, Arnold. For as long as I've known you, you've had some sort of 'Oedipus Complex.' Before me, there was herd of girls you liked who looked like your mother."

"Before you, huh?" he chuckled. "How do you explain Lila?"

"Every guy was fascinated with her. Geez, I thought like a guy for a good portion of my life, Arnoldo. It is written somewhere within the Y chromosome that men must know if the carpet matches the drapes on redheads, I'm positive."

I bet he knows if the carpet matches the drapes.

Ignoring the voice, she stuffed a fingernail in her mouth and began to bite the frayed ends.

"I wasn't busy with Lila," he said, as if reading her mind. She glared at him, and he rolled his eyes. "Oh, come off it, Helga. I know that's what you're thinking right now. Years may have passed since the last time we talked, but I still remember the ins and outs of dealing with a person who is borderline."

She angrily crossed her arms and snorted. "Deal with, huh?"

Strong arms enveloped her into their warmth, and his sweet voice murmured in her ear, "Don't act like that. You know what I mean. You always did hate it when I'm late. I know that the first thought to your head was, 'He must be sleeping with Lila,' and your second thought was, 'He doesn't care about me.'"

She relaxed her body and sighed. Was she really that predictable? "I…I was just worried. I don't mean to be, but I can't help it."

"You don't have to worry; that's what I've been trying to tell you for a long time." Soft lips brushed against her neck, causing a delightful shiver to course through her body. "I'm not going anywhere."

Memories of long ago flooded her mind, ripping open old scars and pouring salt into them. "Arnold, I don't know what you've been told, but I haven't really changed a lot over the years. The only difference between now and then is that now I get what I…what I'd needed then. I can't ask you to give me what I need because it disgusted you so much then, so what's the say that's changed?"

Who says you won't give me the "I can't" speech again?

"I didn't understand a whole lot then. God, Helga, I was a virgin, too, you know. All I'd known about sex was 'man plus woman equals baby'. I wasn't some know-it-all smooth charmer like Gerald."

She nearly choked on her laughter. "What, you didn't learn all you need to know about sex from porn like he did?"

She felt a slight rumbling at her back and realized that he was trying to keep from laughing, too. "I didn't have an older brother who forked over the key to his stash when I turned fifteen and said, 'Have at it, bro. Just don't get it all sticky.'"

The giggles unleashed then from the both of them. "Yuck, Arnoldo! That's way more information than I wanted to hear!" After they calmed back down, she turned serious again. "So let's play Hypothetical Situation. If I have a particularly bad day where I can't seem to keep my trap shut, and I dog you every minute until we're nearing bedtime, what would you do?"

"It would take more than that to rifle my feathers. You know that."

"What if you went to put on your shoes and found tapioca pudding in them?"

"What is it with you and pudding?"

Her face turned three shades of red. As much as she liked to play the Let's Be Naughty game, it had been years since she'd played it with Arnold, and she was suddenly shy. "I like the texture of it. It's so silky and slimy when you squeeze it through your fingers."

His legs shifted, and he mumbled nervously. "Are we still talking about pudding?"

"Maybe."

A loud cough from behind the loveseat interrupted their conversation. "Visiting hour is up."

The dopey smile on her face waned as sheer panic unfurled in her mind and gripped her aching heart. Rising to her feet, she found herself face to face with Kathy, the head nurse. "He just got here thanks to an accident out there. Can't we have another half hour?"

The older woman shook her head. "It's not my problem if visitors can't be here on time. You'll have to wait until tomorrow."

Why was she so cold and terrified? Why was her heart racing? "I can't wait until tomorrow!" she shrieked, and really, at that moment she felt that she couldn't. Her legs moved her around the room, as if subconsciously tempting to warm her back up, but God, she was so damn cold!

It's not fair. Everyone else gets time with their families and friends, more time than I do! Fuck, I don't even see my family, and I sure as hell don't have many friends. Arnold is the only charitable person out there who's making a space in his schedule for me, and this is what I get. Why the hell is Fate determined to keep us apart? What have I done that's so wrong? Why can't I catch a lucky break? Jesus, it's so cold in here! Did they turn down the thermostat? I don't feel right. Why does it feel like I'm moving through water?

Why are they all staring at me like that?

Arnold moved toward her slowly, looking at her like she was so fragile that she might break at any time. "You need to sit down. You look really pale."

God, I'm going to throw up. My skin feels like ice. Did he say I was pale? I feel like I'm going to die. I'm going to die if he leaves. Don't leave me, Arnold! Oh God, I'm going to die, and I'll never be warm again!

Her body swayed, and briefly, she wondered if she was dancing. Suddenly, arms were around her, and the disappointment must have really stung her about them belonging to Nurse Kathy because she hurt. Lots. "You're having a panic attack. You need to sit and calm down."

Ow! Why does my arm hurt so much? Feels like a bee stung me.

"Don't tell me what to do." Her own voice came out so funny, so slurry. Did she have something to drink? She couldn't remember drinking.

Drinking's not good for the baby. Todd will strangle you if you kill his child, kill it before he can.

A hiccup bubbled its way out of her mouth, and she grimaced at the nasty taste. "I need more time, please. Just a little more time. I'll die if he goes. I'm so alone." Hot angry wetness formed at the corners of her eyes, waiting to slide down her cheeks. "I don't want to be alone anymore. I've always been so alone."

Why won't they let him stay with me? Ugh, I feel so tired.

That wasn't a bee sting, idiot. Nurse Ratched gave you a shot of thorazine to shut you up because you were acting like a psycho - oh, wait, you are a psycho.

What's she saying to Arnold? And why does he look so sad? I just want to…I just want to….

Sleep. You just want to sleep.

"No!" she cried in desperation, and with what bit of energy she had left, she latched onto Arnold. Her hands slid along his body until they reached his face. "Please take me with you. You look so sad, like me."

His right hand came up as if to touch her, but he hesitated and then let his arm drop back down to his side. "I can't, Helga." God, he sounded so broken. "You need to get better first."

St. Arnoldo won't fuck a married woman, you sleaze.

He placed a quick kiss on her forehead. "Get some rest. It'll be OK." Then he turned to go.

Something deep inside wailed frantically.

He doesn't want you. No one wants you. Why do you think you keep coming back to these places? That book you read after you were diagnosed years ago…what did it say? That people with borderline personality disorder and bipolar disorder push loved ones away. No one wants to really deal with your mess. You're destined to be alone. You should feel lucky that Todd puts up with your sorry ass when no one else will.

He's going to walk out of that door, and you'll never see him again because you're too weird. Too gross. Too much like a guy. Not ladylike, not like Lila. You know that's who he really wants. He wants to slide between those creamy welcoming thighs. He wants a woman, not someone who acts like a man.

He paused at the door, and it looked like he was going to wave but thought better of it. Instead, he continued walking out of the ward. After he was finally gone, the dreadful darkness claimed her tired body.

The sound of a heavy door creaking open is what woke her. It took a few seconds to realize that she wasn't in her house or even her hospital room. No, she was back in that same processing room she'd been thrust into when first arriving to this place, and this time, her arms and legs were tied down firmly.

Oh no, what did I do?

It was Nurse Kathy's smirking face that greeted her. "Up and at 'em, kiddo. Are you still feeling frisky?" She shoved a syringe in Helga's face. "I've got another dose for you."

Anxiety threatened to rear its ugly head again, but she swallowed it down. "I'm sorry for earlier. I haven't had a panic attack in a long time." The ominous needle was back into her line of sight, but this time, it was filled with fluid. "Really, I'm better now."

The older woman laughed bitterly. "That's what they all say. I'm giving you another dose, and Heyerdahl can deal with your ass when she gets here in the morning."

Fear made her struggle against the bonds, looking for a way to escape. She didn't want to sleep, dammit! She wanted to talk to someone, anyone; it didn't matter as long as she wasn't alone with her misery in this godforsaken room. "Please," she said in a small voice usually reserved for her husband, "I promise to be good now."

The woman looked startled for a minute but shook it off. "I don't care if you think Heyerdahl is your friend. We've got certain procedures that we have to follow around here, and this is one of them." Helga felt something poke her, and then numbing heat traveled up her arm. "Heyerdahl doesn't treat you any differently than she does her other patients, so stop thinking you have special privileges."

"I don't think that," she argued pointlessly.

Is she saying that Phoebe isn't really my friend? That can't be right. I…I thought she liked me, that she'd forgiven me.

Do you expect people to keep forgiving you the rest of their lives? People tire easily, Unibrow, and they're growing sick of the drama you bring.

I…don't mean to…just can't help it.

Are you going to keep saying that for the rest of your life?

"Phoebe's my friend," she said to the ceiling, uncertain if that was really the case now. Somewhere in the room, the head nurse still loomed. "She's been my friend since preschool. I don't know what I'll do…she just has to like me."

"Keep telling yourself that." The door slammed shut, and her eyes followed suit.

Sunlight greeted her the next time she woke, and it dawned on her that she was back in her room. After she rubbed the crust from her eyes, she noticed she wasn't alone.

There was a shuffling of papers, and a pen tapped rhythmically against a clipboard. "Are you feeling better?"

Helga sighed heavily. "That depends on whether you're really my friend or not."

The tapping stopped suddenly. "What do you mean? Of course I'm your friend."

"That's not what I heard last night." She pulled the covers up to her neck, needing the extra security they offered. "You don't have to feel obligated to be my friend now just because we were close once. After all I used to put you through, I'd understand."

"Helga, I don't know what line of crap Kathy's been feeding you, but I forgave you long ago." Phoebe pulled off her glasses and took out a cloth to clean them. "As I mentioned before, the blame doesn't rest entirely on your shoulders. You need to stop thinking that everything is your fault."

"Isn't it though?" she asked warily. "Bob had a saying that things would have been better for the Pataki family had I not been born at all rather than be born some sort of wannabe boy." She shut her eyes to keep Phoebe from seeing any tears that threatened to fall.

"Bob's an idiot, Helga. How many years did it take before you finally convinced him to offer cell phones?"

"He only did that after his precious Ol-ga mentioned that she and her friends were looking to buy some," she scoffed.

Phoebe snickered. "See what I mean? Opportunistic, but still an idiot."

She sighed. "I suppose." Clearing her throat, she changed the subject. "Arnold came by, but he was late thanks to traffic."

If a light bulb could have gone off over the Asian woman's head, it would have. "Ah, the reason for the panic attack. I bet you didn't get enough time." Scribbling something down, she said, "I can make a note to allow you a little extra time if it happens again."

Kathy's taunt haunted Helga's thoughts, and she shook her head. "People already think I get special treatment around here."

Phoebe pursed her lips and grumbled, "Helga, I'd do the same for any other patient who needs it. Don't let Kathy bother you. She doesn't like me much for whatever reason, and she's pinning her problems with me on you." After a second thought, she added, "I'll make a note of that also."

"The feelings of the love I have for him are still as strong as they were when he first offered me his umbrella," she muttered to no one in particular as she sat up. "I need to talk to him or I swear I'll explode!"

Phoebe smirked and motioned for Helga to stand up. "C'mon, you can use the phone in my office while I make rounds."

"Hello?"

"I would lick every last drop from you like an ice cream cone if I were with you right now."

A yawn crackled through the line, and then Arnold laughed. "That's a fine way to greet the day."

"That's how I would greet every sunrise with you," she replied seriously. "I'm sorry to wake you, but Pheebs let me use her office phone because I was about to…I just needed to hear your voice."

"Don't worry about it," his voice came over the line softly. "I understand."

"I'm sorry for freaking out last night. I can't remember the last time I had a panic attack of massive proportions. I usually keep myself under control," she mumbled, still irritated with herself.

"Helga, I said don't worry about it." There was an awkward pause between them, with Helga chewing worriedly on her lip. "It's fine. I'm sorry it took me forever and a day to get there last night. If I'd taken another route, then it wouldn't have happened."

"Don't go blaming yourself because of me!" she scolded and then switched moods. "So you're not angry?"

"Why would I be angry?" He sounded genuinely confused.

What could she say? She was accustomed to people lecturing her about her little problem. Why would she expect Arnold to act any differently? "You know what? It's not important."

"Whatever you say. So, same time tonight?" There was a chuckle from his end. "I promise to grow wings and fly if I'm about to be late this time."

She stuck out her tongue at him even though he couldn't see it. It was the thought that counted. "Don't go making promises you can't keep, Arnoldo."

He laughed again. "I won't."

"So…until tonight?"

"Till tonight," he agreed.

There was a pregnant pause again, but this time, it was companionable. She twirled around in Phoebe's chair, wondering how to end the call. There was no urgent desire to hang up, but at the same time, she couldn't keep her friend's phone tied all day. "Listen, Pheebs will be coming back soon, so I'd better go. It's only a couple of hours until we can talk again, anyway."

"Yeah."

"I…you know I'm sorry about hurting you. In the past, I mean. For all of the times since preschool. I know I've said it a million times probably, but when I left for college, I ended up hurting you again. I thought I was doing you a favor by letting you go. I didn't want to turn you into someone like me." She sighed deeply. "I still feel that way. I shouldn't be seeing you, especially like this." She frowned at her ring and belly.

"Helga, there's a saying about letting things go. If you let go of something you love, and it returns, then it was meant to be."

"I know that," she replied but didn't say what else was on her mind - I just didn't think it applied to us. The door to the office opened, and one frazzled-looking tiny woman with tons of paperwork in her arms barged through. "I've got to go, Arnold. Phoebe's back."

"Later then. Love you."

There was a click before she could yell, "Stop saying that!" It was already too late. She huffed into the phone and then hit the off button. "Why does he do that?" she whined in frustration.

"Does what?" Phoebe asked while setting the folders and papers down on her desk. She blew a stray strand of hair out of her eyes.

"It doesn't matter," Helga muttered irritably.

"Stop deflecting."

She twirled around in the chair a few times, alone with her thoughts, before she spoke up again. "I'm a married woman. We're supposed to work on being friends, not friends with benefits. Maybe…maybe one day, Todd won't need me anymore, and then I'll go. It'll be all right then, but not right now. Right now, he'd just use this against me to paint me as the slut he's always seen me as. I don't want to prove him right."

Phoebe stared at Helga thoughtfully for a moment and then nodded. "I'll have a little chat with Arnold."

"No, don't do that. I don't want him mad at me because I couldn't say it to him, myself." She shook her head and looked out the window. "I'll talk to him later."

It's my fault anyway. I shouldn't be leading him on like this.

You can't help it if it feels good to hear him say he loves you. At least he means it, unlike someone else we won't mention.

Shut up! Todd means it, too. He's just…he has a different way with love. You know that. He doesn't know how to show it properly.

Oh sure he does! He shows you how much he loves you when he kicks you in the ribs or punches you in the face! What about the care he uses when he ties you up or handcuffs you to the bed to make sure you stay put? Isn't that love?

Don't patronize me. You know what I really mean. He grew up in an even worse household than mine. He can't help how he acts, just like I can't.

A hand waved in front of her face, bringing her back to reality. "Earth to Helga! I asked if you wanted to have lunch."

"Oh." She looked down sheepishly at the floor. "I guess I'll be out of your hair then."

"I meant with me, silly. Gerald packed my lunch, and it's way more than I can eat by myself. I know I'm not very curvaceous, but that doesn't stop him from trying to put some 'junk in my trunk,'" she giggled. "I'm more than willing to share it."

"Right here?"

Phoebe nodded and cleared some room on her desk. "I'll make sure to update your chart. We wouldn't want someone to flip over a supposed missed meal."

Helga watched as a huge bento box and a paper sack were removed from the tiny fridge in the corner of the office. Phoebe handed her the sack, and she peered inside. "Oh my God, pastrami on rye." Her mouth practically drooled with anticipation. "Pheebs, in another lifetime, it would be you I end up with. You're a doll."

Phoebe grinned as she slid off the cover to her bento box. "You're welcome."

They ate and reminisced about old times. Every now and then, Helga snuck some fries while Phoebe pretended she didn't notice. Helga was actually starting to feel more like a normal person and less like a prisoner, and she was visibly crestfallen when she realized it was nearly time for group therapy.

"This was fun," she admitted while taking a bite of Phoebe's caramel cheesecake.

"Agreeing."

"Can we do this every day?" Helga blurted without thinking and then cursed herself for sounding like a needy little kid at Christmas.

Phoebe smiled warmly. "I'd be delighted to do so…if you can do me a favor."

She hesitated for a couple of minutes before reluctantly asking, "What?"

"Participate in group for once?"

Helga rubbed the back of her head nervously. "Oh geez. I don't know." One look at the frown on her friend's face changed her mind quickly though. "Oh, all right. I guess I can if we can eat like this every day."

"For you, I'd search the city for only the finest pastrami."

"And maybe some sea salt and cracked pepper chips?"

"And maybe that, too."

She hated how she kept letting Phoebe talk her into these things. Her body slid down in her chair in a sulky manner as everyone took a turn talking about their families. One girl in particular had a similar childhood, sans being a bully. Instead, where there had been anger and hate in Helga, there was only painful timidness and a yearning to be like everyone else with Cheryl.

"I don't know what to do. My mother is more concerned with her new marriage, and my dad would rather be a workaholic instead of 'dealing with a girl,' as he puts it. My older brother has his own life now, doing wonderful things. He and I don't see eye to eye on a lot of stuff even though I idolized him as a kid. I've been trying to get us to have a closer relationship, but I said something that set him off, and now we don't speak." Cheryl sniffled somewhat, and the therapist handed her a tissue. She took a second to dab at her eyes and blow her nose before continuing. "I don't really have any close friends. I mean, I have people I call friends, but it's not like we hang out or anything. I just…I don't think anyone understands me. I don't want to talk to people who can't like me for me."

"Then you shouldn't be surprised that no one likes you."

Helga was surprised to hear that come from her own mouth. She thought she'd been thinking that, not saying it!

Cheryl slowly turned her head toward Helga and then looked to the ground in defeat. "I know," she whispered.

The group leader, some stupid "feel good" therapist named Rachel, lifted her finger to point at Helga. "That's not a nice thing to say to Cheryl, Helga."

"So what? What about the truth?" Sighing, she turned to Cheryl. "Look, you want to fit in so badly that we all can taste it here. Instead of fighting it, why don't you just accept it? You can't be different and expect people to like that. People are idiots, and they actively dislike what they don't understand. We spend a good portion of our lives being told that each one of us is 'special,' and we should find people who like us for ourselves." She snorted, thinking of her old teacher, Mr. Simmons. "But it's not the case."

"What do you mean?" another patient asked.

"You should try seeing the world with open eyes. We spend so much time convincing ourselves in here that it's OK to be a little abnormal, but is it? You've seen the stares. You've heard the taunts. If we were more like everyone else, we wouldn't be in here, would we? Our lives would be oh so perfect like theirs. Yeah, it's boring, but look at it this way - take a look at the unique geniuses of our world. Yes, they're 'being themselves,' but it's a very lonely life to lead. People would rather talk about your genius and uniqueness from afar to each other instead of sharing it with you. It's almost like circus freak status. You're cool and unusual, but you're also so unpredictable, people are afraid to be seen with you."

"I never thought of it that way," Cheryl said quietly.

Rachel glowered at Helga. "Helga doesn't know what she's talking about. There are plenty of people out there willing to accept you as you are."

Helga returned it with her own nasty glare. "Oh yeah? So what do you do when even your family doesn't like you, toots? If you don't even have them to fall back on, what does that say about you?"

"What about your family, Helga?" someone else replied. "We never hear you pipe up at these sessions."

"My family?" she laughed sarcastically. "I have a mother who's kidding herself about being a 'recovering alcoholic'. She may be religiously doing the 12 step program, but she's still sneaking booze into her drinks at home. She thinks no one sees her…or maybe she doesn't give a damn if someone sees her. I don't know. Either way, she's a sad case. She's a former bull riding champion and an Olympic class swimmer. She has a room full of trophies and a mind going to waste. She could do anything she puts her mind to, but she'd rather sleep all day and fail at being a wife and a mother because that's easier than admitting that she's bored with her life. I think she's been having an affair on the side for years, but I have no real proof, and really, I don't care much. If she finds some sort of happiness in her screwed up life, then more power to her. She's been through a lot thanks to my father.

"He's a jerkass. He used to fawn all over his precious Olga, but when she told him she'd rather be an actress on Broadway instead of a teacher to orphans in some remote village in Alaska, he decided that his time was better spent at his business. I'm not sure if he even remembers my name except when it suits him."

Someone gasped and said something about that "being terrible," and there was a chorus of agreement - even from the therapist.

Helga continued. "You see, I'm a mistake. Miriam and Bob had already lost one son long before I was born. Miriam had a ton of miscarriages, and when she finally got pregnant with me, there was no way I could be anything other than a boy. When they were told they were having another girl, it broke their marriage into pieces. Bob blamed Miriam for not giving him an 'heir to his empire'. He blamed me for not being born with the Y chromosome. He blamed everyone except his own lousy self. Is it any wonder my sister tried running off to New York? It doesn't matter that she's a fuck-up. She annoys the ever living hell out of me, but at least she managed to do something for herself that she really wanted to do, so that makes her OK in my book.

"I have no other family in the city. Most of my father's living relatives are in Oregon, and those that aren't dead or in Oregon live far from here. My mother's family is back in North Dakota, and I don't know them that well. So the only family I have is my husband and this baby."

Cheryl smiled gently. "At least you have someone. I've seen your husband. He's pretty cute and dotes on you."

Something inside Helga froze. They'd been paying attention to Arnold's visits? Oh yeah…probably after last night, they couldn't help but pay attention.

"How long have you been together?"

Deep down, Helga kept seeing this Cheryl girl as a version of Lila with a brown ponytail instead of red braids. Why was she being so fucking nosy? "He's not my husband," she mumbled.

There were more gasps from the group.

"He's not my husband, OK?" she screamed at their shocked faces. "He's…he's someone I used to know a long time ago. We're trying to be friends again. It's not my fault if he's so lovey-dovey."

Cheryl giggled. "If you ask me, you seemed a little lovey-dovey, yourself!"

Excited talking broke out, and Rachel tried her best to quiet everyone, but it was useless. Helga rose from her seat and angrily shook her fist in Cheryl's sweet little teenaged face. "Who asked you?"

Cheryl yanked herself back in her chair and chuckled out anxiously, "You're pregnant! It wouldn't do the baby or you good if you get yourself worked up!"

Rachel jumped up and pulled on Helga's arm while talking soothingly in her ear, but that wasn't working either. "I don't like nosy people, and I especially don't like people taunting me," Helga ground out forcefully.

"I didn't mean anything by it, Helga, really. How were we supposed to know that he isn't your husband?" Cheryl asked. "When you do come to group, you're not exactly sociable."

Blinking in confusion, she stared at the girl before returning to her seat. "What's it to you? Or any of you? It's not like we're some big happy bunch of friends singing about rainbows and unicorns. Once you all leave, we won't know each other from Adam." She bit at her thumb and chewed on the nail. If she was never going to see these people again after she got out, then what would it hurt to be truthful with them? "If you must know, my husband isn't allowed to be here. He has a problem with his temper."

A hand went to her right shoulder blade, rubbing her in a calming circular motion. "I'm sorry, Helga," Rachel replied solemnly. There was agreement from the room.

"There's no reason to be sorry. Everything's fine. He'll stop ranting soon, like he always does. Life goes on; ob-la-di, ob-la-da." Everyone was silent for a bit, watching her. Finally, she choked out, "It's great. It's all great." A tear rolled down her cheek.

"No, it's not, Helga." Rachel put her arms around her and hugged her. "No one deserves to be abused."

"It's not abuse. Why does no one get that? It's not abuse if I ask for it!" she laughed.

"You…you ask for it?" Cheryl whispered in disbelief. "Why in the world would you do that?"

Helga got up from her seat and moved toward the door. Before she left, she turned to Cheryl and gave her the most shit-eating grin she could muster. "Sorry, kiddo, but you'll never be as fucked up as someone like me. Thanks for playing though! Now why don't you hurry on back to your emo little life? Stop trying to be original and face facts - you're as boringly normal as the rest of them."

With a saucy wink, she left the room.