I hope I redeemed myself with that last chapter ;-)
Love your comments, posts, questions - oh God and the wishes/possible story lines ...LOVE THEM!
These vignettes are all around the same time - of that same night.
Interpretations
Eileen bounced into her house a little more bubbly than usual if that was possible.
"I can't be holding dinner until your boss sees fit to let you go home," her mother yelled as she put the roast chicken on the table next to Eileen' s place setting.
"Thanks, mom," Eileen said kissing her mother. She wasn't particularly hungry, but her mother had gone to all the trouble of keeping it warm.
"Does that woman know you have a home?" Mrs. Sullivan asked and her distaste of Eileen's boss was clear.
"Mom, I went out with friends from work, remember I told you when I called. My boss was long gone," Eileen explained. "Oh mom, I got to pick out her outfit for dinner tonight!"
"A grown woman and you're picking out her clothes. Was she naked at work?" her father laughed coming into the kitchen for a second helping of the best cook in the world's chicken.
"Oh dad," Eileen said.
"And she knows you went to college? And it cost a lot of money?" her mother asked…for the hundredth time.
"Yes mom, she knows," Eileen said taking the smallest piece of meat and passing the plate to her dad who ate his first supper hours ago.
"If that woman ever thinks of firing you, I swear to all the saints in heaven I will go down there," her mother said as she passed the potatoes and corn.
"I'm not sure you're supposed to swear to the saints," her father teased her mother.
Eileen shoved a large piece of chicken in her mouth and smiled as she thought of what would happen if she ever told them Helena had fired her twice that week. Well, not technically.
"She likes me mom. We're going for tea," Eileen said hoping to get Helena on her good side.
"Well for the love of mike, you and the Brit going for tea. Your ancestors are turning over in their graves," her father laughed scooping up the last of the potatoes.
"Oh daddy," Eileen said of his cultural bias.
"Next you'll be asking her to the St. Patty's day party!" her mother laughed.
"Well if you do, don't tell your Nana or she'll have a stroke," her father added.
This was in part the reason Eileen didn't move out. She made good money at Wells Corp. Not enough to live in the City yet, but she could afford to rent a place with a couple of friends from college who were living in Brooklyn and commuting to their jobs. Eileen loved her parents and being their only later in life child, they doted on her. Sometimes too much.
"Oh I'll be in the City tomorrow. Your Aunt Rose and I are going to the matinée of Phantom. We'll stop by your office. Your Aunt has never seen your place," her mother said and offered her water when she started to choke at the thought.
"Oh I don't know, Mom. I'm pretty busy at work and…," Eileen tried, but her father nudged her under the table and winked indicating it would make her mother happy to show her off.
"Sure, just call me when you get there, ok?" Eileen said and started the prayers that Helena was out of the office all day tomorrow.
Pete checked his phone and as expected, there was no message from Helena. He drove uptown to the Sheraton to meet his mom. She was a school teacher and usually had summers off, but for the last few, she took on extra jobs and couldn't visit. Pete felt close to her and his sister, especially after his father died years ago. He was looking forward to his mother's impromptu visit, although he was unsure how they'd spend their time. He wasn't into sightseeing and his mother wasn't into sports. Maybe he would ask her to join his friends on the tea tour. Pete valet parked the car and went into the hotel. He was feeling really good at the prospect of seeing his mother. This is why it surprised him when he suddenly got this really bad vibe as he pushed through the revolving door. He checked his phone – nothing. He first noticed the glitch in his vibe readings when he was at the facility in South Dakota. He figured the change of the guard with Helena's One, may have gotten his vibe energies caught up in that. He started to worry it might be about his mother and so he rushed through the lobby into the small restaurant. He breathed a little easier when he saw her, dressed in an emerald-green suit, and looking very happy.
"Mom!" Pete said giving her a hug that was supposed to be gentle, but the more he hugged her, the more he realized he missed her.
"Oh Pete, let me look at you," Jane Lattimer said holding him at arm's length. "You look good, son."
They sat down at the table and ordered a coke and wine, neither of them wanted to eat.
"How is work?" Jane asked Pete and he told her that he loved his job even though it was crazy hours. "I could never do one of those jobs that require you to do the same thing day after day," he shared.
"You mean like teaching?" she laughed.
He loved to see her smile. For a long time after his father died, she pretended to be okay, but Pete knew otherwise. It wasn't just the crying at night behind her closed bedroom door. His vibe skills were getting sharper and he had learned the hard way never to ignore them. He honed them when he took the job at Wells corp. He became very adept at predicting when Helena was in trouble and saved her from many an embarrassing tabloid spread by getting her out of the situation in the nick of time.
"You got out of school early? I was surprised you were in New York already. I would have picked you up at the airport," Pete said.
"No trouble at all. Now I don't want to take up all your time either. I know you're very busy, too," Jane said.
"It's okay. We were supposed to go to San Diego to make a couple of guys 'an offer they couldn't refuse,' Pete said imitating the Godfather and making his mother laugh. "But my friend Claudia – oh you'd like her Mom – suggested we just Skype with them first," Pete said. They sat and talked for a good while before Jane looked at her watch.
"Well, it's late and I know you have work tomorrow. Are you headed home?" she asked and noticed he looked at his phone. No messages meant he could go home.
"So what do I get if I guess the family secret ingredient?" Helena said putting a small piece of a meatball in her mouth and chewing slowly.
"You won't be able to guess," Myka said flirting from across the table.
"You're pretty sure of yourself, Counselor. Have you found that works in your favor?" Helena said trying desperately to decipher the various tastes in her mouth. Onion, a little garlic, tomato, beef…..
"Oh yes, I am," Myka said smiling mischievously. That smile and slight shake of her head and the way her eyes light up made Helena melt.
God how she tortures me without even knowing it, Helena thought to herself.
"Then you won't mind upping the stakes if you're so confident," Helena countered.
"Sure," Myka said taking the bait. "You name it, you can have it."
Helena's expression changed completely as she could no longer resist what Myka's innocent suggestions were doing to her. Name it? I want you naked lying next to me allowing me to touch you anywhere I want, anyway I want until your screams are so loud your neighbors ….
"Helena?" Myka said reaching out to touch her hand and bring her back from the shouting from the rooftops that was going on in her head. Helena was one thought short of drooling. She pulled herself together as quickly as she could. This private daydreaming was occurring more often.
"Sugar," Helena said flatly.
"What?" Myka asked surprised.
"The secret ingredient is sugar – just a pinch or two – to balance the acidity of the tomatoes," Helena said authoritatively.
"Oh my God, no one ever guesses that," Myka said amazed. It was such a small amount that the other flavors overpowered it.
"I never guess, Myka," Helena said wishing she had been able to hold back long enough to get Myka to agree to something.
"You're amazing," and Myka meant her deductive skills.
Those are the exact words Helena thought Myka would be saying …but to a very different set of circumstances. The night was young.
Helena insisted on helping Myka clean up mostly because she did not wish to be without her. Myka simply wasn't the type to leave dishes on the table or the sink. Helena knew division of labor would make things go faster and then they could get to Myka's question.
"You can rinse them off and put them right in the dishwasher," Myka said as she put the leftovers in containers to bring to work tomorrow. She made enough for an army. While Myka was wrapping, Helena stood at the sink letting water run over the sauce still on the plate. Then she looked around.
"It's right there," Myka said pointing to the dishwasher. She watched in amazement as the Inventor opened it and looking inside clueless. Helena knew the appliance took up space in her own kitchen, but she never used it. Someone always did the cleaning up for her. Helena put each dish in the slot and the silverware and then waited – as if the machine knew she was done and would start the process. Myka bit her lip at the sight before her. She walked over and put a tablet in the slot and closed it and turned it on.
"Oh," Helena said.
They both agreed they were too full for dessert and so they took their wine glasses and went back into the living room and sat on the couch.
"Did you want to ask me ….to do…. something?" Helena finally asked. Myka was secretly hoping she would bring it up.
"Oh yes," Myka said and Helena saw the blush rise to her cheeks. Oh God yes!
"I'm a little embarrassed," Myka confessed. Oh Myka, I wish wash away all your inhibitions.
"It's just …..it's always been a fantasy of mine," Myka blushed more. Yes yes yes, let me help fulfill your fantasies please.
"If it makes you uncomfortable," Myka said. Short of whips and chains I'm comfortable.
"You can refuse and I will totally understand," Myka explained. I would never refuse you.
"Because I've never heard of you doing this," Myka added. The papers don't know everything I do, darling.
Helena had put down her wine glass for fear of biting off a piece of glass. She sat there with her hands folded and clenched. She was like a filly at the gate anxiously waiting for the bell to go off and the gates to open. She was concentrating on being poised, but it was building up inside of her.
As soon as Myka asked the question, Helena meant to say – but shouted – YES! It was all too much for the woman who rarely was inhibited.
"Really?" Myka said excited and relieved and Helena realized she had no idea what the question was. It didn't matter, she would say yes to anything.
"I was really nervous about asking you," Myka said as she got up and for a moment, Helena's hope rose. "I thought, it's such an imposition and all," Myka said as she went to the bookcase and retrieved a book. She hurried back and handed the book to a rather stunned Helena who had not really been able to hear Myka over her own internal articulations.
"You want me to sign it?" Helena guessed incorrectly.
"I was hoping you'd read a small passage from it ….. to me," Myka said and her smile made Helena's own disappointment soften. Helena remembered that Mr. Bering had told her how Myka wished she could talk to HG Wells when he read her the book.
"It would be my pleasure," Helena said and Myka sat down sideways on the couch so she could face Helena. Myka's expression was like a kid on Christmas morning and Helena felt privileged to help bring Myka that joy.
Helena opened the book and began reading;
"The Coming of the Martians. Chapter One. The Eve of the War
But who shall dwell in these worlds if they be inhabited? . . .
Are we or they Lords of the World? . . .
And how are all things made for man?-
Kepler
No one would have believed in the last years of the nineteenth century that this world was being watched keenly and closely by intelligences greater than man's and yet as mortal as his own; that as men busied themselves about their various concerns they were scrutinized and studied, perhaps almost as narrowly as a man with a microscope might scrutinize the transient creatures that swarm and multiply in a drop of water. With infinite complacency men went to and fro over this globe about their little affairs, serene in their assurance of their empire over matter".
The words that Helena had composed never sounded so rich to Myka and never sweeter to Helena. As she read into the night, Myka listened attentively. She listened the way one does when they meet an idol, trying to take in every second of seeing them, hearing them. Myka sat there in a lifelong fantasy whose chances of coming true did not exist before meeting Helena.
Neither could have known how true those words would ring - at that very moment.
"Can I get you a water or something?" Tommy Boy asked the woman who was sitting in the lobby at the wee hours of the morning.
"No, thank you, Thomas," Jane said.
Agent Gore had been very helpful. He told Jane that the doorman would tell them about Myka…. and where Myka was, Helena was. They couldn't send Jack to retrieve their stolen item because they knew him. So Jane Lattimer volunteered for the assignment. It would give her a chance to see her son. Now that Pete was asleep in his apartment, Jane was free to attend to her work.
The school teacher-slash Regent was there to teach Helena Wells a lesson.
Thanks for continuing your reading and support.
Hmmm...should I be worried what y'all think of Helena's train of thought here? I swear - it just comes to me.