A Picture Paints a Thousand Words

Helena placed her legs on the park bench, stretching them and watching as Pete tried to get through the congestion of traffic on Central Park West. "Be right there," he shouted out more than once as he dodged taxis on the wide two-way street.

"Come on, Mr. Lattimer, I can't wait all day," Helena goaded him. He was out of breath by the time he reached the bench. Pete was in good shape, but he had just overdosed on homemade pastries and coffee. He stretched his legs, but it was more to take his time than it was to prepare. Helena waited long enough and encouraged him to sit there and she would find him on the way back, but he wouldn't hear of it. The two started to run and within minutes, Helena was running backwards to check on him – "Are you sure you're okay, Mr. Lattimer?" she asked and he was certain he heard a giggle in her tone.

"Don't…you…worry…about me," Pete said, taking off.

Leena cleaned up the coffee mugs and told Myka she was off to do food shopping. Eileen and Claudia went to the specialty tea shop to get the right tea for later. Myka had the house to herself now and she paced in the living room, trying to get at what she was feeling.

As if her feelings were on trial, she walked back and forth facing, stopping to face the couch when she had a question as if the jury were seated there.

"First, let me put out there that I have no real justification for feeling this way," the lawyer began her opening remarks. "I don't even know what I'm feeling," she laughed uncomfortably. "I mean, if I had to …you know, really had to say…..," the lawyer said, now folding her arms and looking to the side. "….what it was, I guess….I guess it's a combination of feeling annoyed …and maybe jealous," she surmised. Then she thought about those words to see if they fit. "Yes, jealous. But why, you ask?" she said to the invisible courtroom. "Has Helena done anything to cause that, you ask? No, not really. Indirectly, maybe. You see, she's just written a book …," Myka continued and smiled when she thought about what she had read. "And it's beautiful." Then Myka coughed to get her mind back on track. "The point is ….the point is….Helena has not done anything, " she said and then realized she already said that. "What's in the book? The book is filled with Helena's thoughts about love and connection. And where did she get a lot of that material, you might ask? Well, from us I guess. I mean, she says she has learned the most from our relationship, so it stands to reason that she wrote a lot about us. Am I comfortable with that? That's a very good question," Myka said to the imaginary questioner. "I'm not comfortable with people knowing even more about us. I mean, sure we have a wonderful relationship and maybe Helena thought they could learn something. That's nice to think our relationship could do that. We're not perfect though, you know," Myka said to the courtroom that seemed to have more people now. "We're far from perfect. I mean, she still throws her clothes wherever it suits her. She drinks my tea, but I know it's not Eileen's tea. The point is," Myka said, shaking her head to dismiss those thoughts. "We are good together. We work at the things that bother us. I don't obsess over being at a party with celebrities like I used to. I feel good about my work. I was asked to teach if I want to," Myka said, parsing out her thoughts. "Still…everything she does is….big!" Myka said and threw her hands wide. "A week doesn't go by where they don't want her opinion on business shows, or they want her take on fashion on talk shows, they want to know what she thinks on… everything else," Myka said all in one breath. "It's constant – the attention. People write letters or send emails to her. And most of the time, I understand that. I get letters, emails, too," Myka reasoned. "Still, Helena is different. She's brilliant, and sure of herself, and beautiful, and kind, and doesn't take crap from …like…anybody," Myka shared to the imaginary group of her peers. "Helena is…..," she said softly as she came to the conclusion; "…Perfect. And sometimes, that's hard on mere mortals."

That was what Myka's brain came up with. Helena was wonderful in every way and so Myka was to blame for any negative feelings. Old habits die hard.

The day before…

"Oh boy, Helena, what were you thinking?" Ted Grayson said as he looked down at the pictures.

"She was thinking she was posing for a PETA campaign. You know the people who advocate for the rights of animals," the assistant who found the pictures said.

"Look at this one. You'd think a naked woman would be afraid to have a jaguar so close…," Ted stated.

"That's a leopard. They make coats out of leopards' skin," the smart youth explained. "And….yeah," the man agreed, unable to take his eyes off of the vision.

"Leopard coats? That's awful. And in light of my long standing animal rights stance, I think it only appropriate that we use these pictures in our new campaign," Ted said.

"We have an animal campaign?" the assistant asked.

"We do now," Ted said, thinking this was the perfect way to foil his nemesis.

Ted's fledgling had stumbled upon this treasure by accident. In searching high and low for something on Helena Wells, he came across a photographer who had worked on the PETA campaigns. He told him how several years before; Helena Wells agreed to do a typical ad campaign that used celebrities posing to bring attention to their plight. That day, Helena arrived alone and was asked if she were daring enough to do the ads seemingly naked, and well, they had her at dare. Depending on how one looked at it, it was fortunate or unfortunate that her usual entourage was not with her that day. Irene was away in Italy and Pete was home with the flu. When PETA lost some funding, they warehoused the pictures. Helena thought it best not to tell anyone. Then someone had the idea to auction off the celebrities pictures and a brazen lawyer got most of them to sign off. Some were purchased by magazines, others by private wealthy bidders. Fortunately for Helena at the time, a private bidder won her photos and they never saw the light of day.

For years the photo of her in what appeared to be nothing more than a faux fur coat, pulled together at the middle but leaving most of Helena's skin exposed hung in a private office. The only thing Helena did wear, besides the coat, was a seductive look. Standing around her were twelve men in tuxedos and the caption read: "I faked it with all of them, and not one of them knew."

Of course, the double entendre was meant to point out that real women wore fake fur.

The next one depicted Helena draping herself sans clothes over a leopard, the caption reading: "Even on this body, he doesn't look good."

Helena marked it off as her good dead at the time and forgot about it.

The winner at the auction had no intention of ever releasing the pictures or using them for personal gain. She collected expensive artwork, and in her eyes, these pictures were works of art. But then she married, and her wife didn't care for the pictures that hung in the owner's office at home. "They go or I do," the insecure partner said.

Word of mouth told the young Grayson assistant that there was someone looking to unload pictures of Helena Wells and he jumped at the chance. Ted paid dearly for them and he wanted to make the most of his investment.

A phone call to a trucking company that used mobile advertising meant the pictures could be out in public by Sunday afternoon.

"Won't this just make her look like she's an animal advocate?" the twenty something inquired.

"Exactly!" Ted exclaimed. "And how good does it make us look that we're in our competitor's corner on this critical issue?"

"Yeah, but it just puts her in the spotlight…..again," the assistant pointed out.

"Not everybody will be drooling over those pictures the way you are. I'm thinking Wells' lawyer won't be happy at all," Ted said, looking at the release form that Helena had signed giving away all her rights to the photos.

"Isn't she married to her….," the youth asked.

"Exactly," Ted said of his fool proof plan. Fools always think their plans are.

That Sunday...

Helena and Pete had made it halfway around the Jaqueline Kennedy Onassis Reservoir in Central Park when he caved.

"Boss, I'm just…going to go…over there…by those bushes….. and throw up," Pete yelled out. Helena threw her hands up in the air. How was it that everyone in her life, while good intentioned, disrupted her plans constantly.

"Oh, bloody hell," Helena said when she saw he wasn't kidding. She looked around to find the nearest place she could grab the poor man some water and spotted a food vendor. "Be right there, Mr. Lattimer," she assured him as she went to the stand. Of course, when the man handed her water, she had not money. Then he recognized her and his eyes grew wide.

"No water for you!" he shouted and startled Helena. "I remember you. You come here with no money and attack me," the vendor who made the mistake of knocking the food out of Myka's hand when they couldn't pay. Helena had wrestled him to the ground.

"Who the bollocks are you?" Helena said. He grabbed the water back from her.

"I'm okay…..(throws up)…..boss," Pete called from behind the hedges.

"Look sir, my friend is sick and needs fluids. I live across from the park and will bring the money back…," Helena reasoned, but the man refused.

A passerby noticed Helena right away and offered her his unopened bottle. "I'd know you anywhere," he gushed and she thanked them and rushed to Pete who stood up and drank the water in one shot.

And then everything changed.

Pete's eyes grew wide and a look of terror came over his face.

"Oh, good Lord, Mr. Lattimer, I told you not to drink it in one gulp," the reluctant caretaker said.
Pete's expression didn't change as he shook his head back and forth.

"Mr. Lattimer," Helena said exasperated. "Shall we walk back so that you can catch your breath?"

"Run…..," is what Pete gasped.

"You are in no shape to trot, let alone run," Helena pointed out.

"You…..run," Pete said, bending over, panting.

"Yes, I run. You do that thing you do and then throw up. You should not have tried to bait me…," Helena lectured unaware of what was going on for her bodyguard.

In a very rare event, but one Pete deemed to be absolutely necessary, he stood up and grabbed his boss' talking head, turning her to look in the opposite direction.

There on the street, several yards away from them, was a truck with Helena's likeness on it. "What?" Helena asked, walking to keep pace with the slow moving truck.

"Is that you?" Pete asked, keeping up with her now.

"It certainly looks like it," Helena said, trying to remember what the picture was from.

"What does it say?" Pete asked and strained to read the slogan. "I …faked…it …with …all…of …them," he read without putting the words together.

"How?" Helena asked, the memory of that photo shoot coming back to her.

"My guess is you moaned a lot and threw your head back. That usually fools…," Pete responded and then heard the words that came out of his mouth. "…some men….(cough) …. I read that."

Helena threw him a deadly stare. "How could that be there?" she growled.

"Wow, you look…..Is that new?" Pete asked and Helena hit his arm. This was not the time for talking. "Ouch! I mean, I don't remember you ever posing…..Oh, oh. Boss?"

"We need to find out how the hell that got there….," Helena demanded.

"It says Grayson Industries. We need to beat it to your house," Pete said and Helena stopped to look at him. "If he cuts across 79th Street, he'll be coming up Central Park West …in front of…"

"My windows!" Helena said in horror.

The duo had only completed half of the 1.58 mile track when Pete took ill. Now there was fire under both of them and they finished the course in record time.

The vendor looked over at the large picture slowly making its way down 5th Avenue. "Hey lady, come back. You can have all the water you want. Anything."

Myka tried to talk herself out of the aggravating feelings, but it wasn't working. She was still feeling angry, but she wasn't sure if she was angry at herself for feeling this way, or angry at Helena for being so damn desirable to everyone. She paced the living room, trying to decide who was at fault here? Had she had more time, she probably would have figured it out.

Pete fared only a little better by the time they reached the front door; the advertising truck stuck in traffic. Or maybe it wasn't heading up Central Park West at all? Helena decided not to take that chance.

"Now…..act…naturally," were Pete's last words as he collapsed on the top step and motioned for Helena to leave him.

The front door opened and Myka ran to see Helena.

"Oh, hel-lo, darling," Helena said, her accent so thick even she could hear it. "Rested, are we?"

"Yes, I think so," Myka said, her mind still racing with thoughts. "I want to talk to you."

"You do? To me? Whatever about? I mean, sure. Let's go in …..the basement," Helena said, but Myka was pulling her into the living room …with the large bay window….. that looked directly out over the street.

"No, in here is better," Myka said, pulling Helena inside. "I've been thinking, Helena," Myka said, and she turned Helena so that the Brit had her back to the window.

"Oh, well, thinking is …good. Sometimes overrated, but usually good," Helena said, trying to get around Myka in a not so subtle way.

"What? What is up with you?" Myka asked, aware that her wife was distracted.

"Me? Oh, running ….took a lot….out of me," Helena said and Myka was surprised because Helena liked to brag how she could do the course twice and not get winded.

"Helena, I just wanted to say what I've been thinking," Myka said, afraid she would talk herself out of it.

Helena could see how serious Myka was being, but thought since the topic was feelings, they could talk about it later. It also meant now wasn't the time to tell Myka about the pictures. "Of course, darling," Helena said, taking Myka's hand and gently, subtly, switching places with her so now Myka's back was towards the window. There was no sign of the truck.

"What the frak?" Claudia said, when she and Eileen came up the steps and found Pete sitting against the doorway, looking beat up.

"Are you okay, Pete?" Eileen asked, bending down.

"Yeah, ran…from the park," Pete said still catching his breath.

"Did Helena?" Claudia asked, unsure of what to say next, but wondered if he was injured.

"She's in with Myka. It's ….going….to be touchy," Pete said.

"What are you talking about?" Eileen asked, as they helped Pete up. His eyes darted up and down the street, but there was no sign of the truck. Maybe it was a mirage.

"Let's go through the back," he said and the women helped him inside through the kitchen in the back.

"Well, I felt bothered about something and so after everyone left, I spent time thinking about it. Helena?" Myka said, when she noticed her wife looking out the window.

"Yes, you were thinking?" Helena recouped when she didn't see the truck.

"Yes, I thought about what it is that is bothering me and …," Myka started again and this time Helena suggested they sit down. She sat on the couch, patting the cushion next to her. Myka didn't want to sit down; she did her best thinking on her feet.

"I want to stand," Myka said after Helena sat down, and now the Brit was back up on her feet.

"What is it, Myka?" Helena said, taking her wife's hands in hers and looking at her.

Myka looked long and hard into those dark orbs as she tried to figure out her thoughts. "You're ….perfect," she said softly because Helena's physical beauty was exquisite.

"Thank you, darling…," Helena said quickly, hugging Myka and looking out the window. "I'm glad we had this talk."

"No, that's the problem, Helena," Myka said and now confused her wife.

"Sorry?" Helena said.

"You're perfect. You are physically beautiful, you're brilliant, you have grace and poise, you are never at a loss for an answer, you exude self-confidence, and people adore you. And they want to be with you and touch you…..," Myka said, breaking free of Helena and pacing back and forth in front of the window.

Helena rushed to put her arm around Myka and gently guided her back to the middle of the room, but Myka was moving around. She couldn't be contained as her thoughts poured forth.

"That's it, Helena. I have to share you with the world. Everybody wants to get a piece of you. It's like you're always out there," Myka said, waving her hand across the window. "You're larger than life," Myka said as the truck pulled up across the street ….. in clear view.

"What?" Helena yelled, as she saw the vehicle pull over and parked.

"You're larger than life," Myka repeated, as Helena's eyes gazed out of the giant billboard. "It's like you're always on display for everyone and now with your book and the professor's book, your life will be even more in the spotlight. Sometimes I wish you were just mine," Myka said sincerely.

Helena smiled and rubbed the back of her neck. "We…can go away. Now!"

"That's not the answer, Helena. I wish it were, but even when we're away, people find us," Myka pointed out.

"I don't have to publish the book. I can stop the professor," Helena stammered, but Myka wouldn't hear of it.

"No, don't be ridiculous. I can't ask you to do that. It's me. I get…. insecure," Myka said and started to walk to the window, feeling embarrassed for admitting that.

"You're….. being…. ridiculous!" Helena yelled and Myka turned around. Helena wanted to be understanding, but she was paying more attention to Myka's location than her words.

"I'm …what?" Myka said, defensively.

"You have nothing to be insecure about. No matter how big I get, I will always be yours," the Brit said and it came out all wrong.

"Well, I know that ….in my head, of course, but sometimes when I think everyone is looking at you, I feel like ….it's me against the world," Myka said and that is when Helena should have taken her wife and embraced her, but to do so would have allowed Myka a view of outside.

"Darling," Helena started. "You're letting your emotions run away with you. I know it's hard, this life you didn't intend to have, but you have nothing to worry about. I am yours," Helena said and thought it sounded really good and should do the trick. Unfortunately, so impressed with her soliloquy was Helena, that she dropped Myka's hands and began walking around, deep in thought.

Giving – Myka – a – clear –view – of – outside.

And then in nothing short of a complete Freudian slip, Helena announced to her beloved that all she was saying was in fact …"The naked truth." With that, Helena realized her back was to Myka and she turned around quickly to see Myka staring out the window.

"What…. the …hell…..is …..that?" Myka asked, looking out at the huge picture of her wife in a compromising position.

Helena raced to be by her side. "Well, darling, that is…I have no idea!" Helena tried and tripped herself up.

"That's a picture of you, Helena with …..a dozen men?" Myka clarified as she peered out. "I faked it with …are you naked under that coat?"

"It was a long time ago….," Helena said and Myka looked at her hard.

"Irrelevant," the lawyer stated.

"I…am as surprised as you are," Helena tried, hoping to convince Myka they were on the same side, but Myka strongly disagreed.

"No, you had to know about this picture," Myka pointed out.

"Well, I knew…but it was a very long time ago, before us," Helena thought to mention.

"And you thought now was a good time to display you animal activist side?" Myka asked, her head starting to pound.

"No! I didn't do this, it's Grayson," Helena said, pointing to the name.

"How could he do this…?" Myka asked, her eyes squinting.

"Well, actually … I do not know. I did that for PETA a long time ago. He must have gotten ahold of them somehow," Helena surmised, gently pulling Myka away.

Myka fired off a series of questions about when Helena did this, did she sign a contract, sign any papers or give anyone authorization. Even when she was upset, she was protecting Helena's rights. Helena was less than forthcoming, but it was only because this was from a time when Helena didn't pay attention to what she was signing.

"Grayson wouldn't risk doing this if any of it was illegal," Myka surmised and pressed Helena to think hard about if she signed papers.

"I…may…have. In my defense, Irene was on a bloody vacation!" Helena threw out as her last resort.

"What does?" Myka shook her head no. "So, now there's a book about our love life, a book about your family and naked pictures of you on trucks? "

"I do not understand how this changes anything? I am yours…," Helena tried.

Helena's attempt to understand only made it harder for Myka because she didn't quite understand her feelings either. "It doesn't change anything… you're still….," and now Myka paced the room. "…. A lot. You're ….a lot, Helena."

Helena got the distinct impression that it wasn't a compliment. "What the bloody hell does that mean?"

Helena sounding angry gave Myka back the spark to her own anger. Except, Myka didn't have the answer to that question. "It means whatever you want it to mean," the lawyer fumbled.

"That's not an answer. I cannot give the interpretation for your sentiment," Helena argued.

"I'm not like you, Helena. I don't have all the answers. They're not always at my fingertips like they are for you," Myka yelled. She knew Helena would see through any nonsense answer she gave right now, but she really wasn't thinking straight.

"Well, why don't you take some time and find the answers then? Because you are confusing me, a state I do not visit often, nor do I like!" Helena said back strongly.

"Oh, no!" Myka said sarcastically. "I confused the great HG Wells? How is that bloody possible? Why not ask one of the dozen men that you faked it with to help you think it through?"

Myka's attempt to get out of the argument was to grasp at straws and throw whatever she came up with at the wall. It was a mess. But she got the last word in because Helena was, in a rare moment, speechless. Myka walked out of the living room and stamped her feet all the way upstairs.

Helena was fuming. She looked around the room as if the answer to this madness lie somewhere about. She went out into the entry way, only to see Myka storm off.

"You do know they were talking about a faux fur coat, don't you?" Helena shouted up, but the only response was the bedroom door slamming shut – and it made Helena jump.

"I better make that tea," Eileen whispered to her cohorts who had their ears to the kitchen door.

"We better hide," Pete said and Claudia agreed.

Thanks for reading along. Looking forward to your thoughts.