The Compromise
Chapter 27: Break
"It's complicated…
this time, I think it could be,
Triangulated,
It could be just what we need...
So what you say: we give it up and walk away?
Nothing to salvage, anyway."
"Loose Ends"
Imogen Heap
"What is wrong with you?"
"Nothing."
"It doesn't look like nothing's wrong. It looks like something's wrong."
"Well…you're wrong."
"Or maybe you're wrong, and something really is wrong. Which would make me right! Is that it? Are you upset because I'm right?!"
"Derek, will you just go away?!" Helga said, hurling a hanger at the dark-haired boy in front of her, but missing his head by a foot.
"I see what the problem is…" Robbie said, sitting down on the floor across from Helga. The two were, as usual, the only workers in the store, among the scant customers and used their work time to chat. Helga, however was less vocal than usual, something her cousin wasn't used to, and immediately took notice of. "This is about Derek." he stated simply.
"What are you talking about?" Helga asked, clearing the cash register area of all debris. There were a dozen or so hangers, food wrappers and scraps of paper littering the counter top. She sat on the floor aimlessly, attempting to organize the mess.
"Derek. The second you get upset, that's the first name you call out. So tell me what happened." he said, looking at her seriously.
"Nothing happened." Helga lied.
"I think I already know what happened." he said, leaning back and stretching, non chalantly. "He got you knocked up, but you want to keep the baby. So, now, you're planning to run off and live on your own without him, raising your child on your own quick wit and the kindness of others. Like the Gilmore Girls." Robbie said, keeping a straight face. "I loved that show…"
Helga proceeded to dump a box full of unused ribbons over Robbie's head and look at him questioningly. She knew that he wasn't serious; if by some chance she were to actually get pregnant, his reaction would lean more toward "hysterical" and "dramatic" than casual.
"No, you idiot. I'm not pregnant." she said, running her hands over the counter top. "I asked Derek to meet me here tonight."
"Why?" Robbie asked, pulling a bright green and blue ribbon from the front of his shirt. "Did something happen? I'm being serious now, Helga."
"It's a number of things actually. It came to a head the other day when he brought me roses to apologize for leaving me at his ex-girlfriends party, and a slew of other things he wasn't even aware that he did, only to finish the date off by bringing my expanding waistline to my attention." Helga remarked.
"What?" Robbie asked, in disbelief. "He called you 'fat'? No one's allowed to call you 'fat' except me!"
"I'll be sure to let him know that he's infringing upon your territory." Helga deadpanned, smiling.
"Now, what's this about his ex-girlfriend? Why were you at her party?"
"It's a long story-"
The bell over the door chimed, signaling that another customer entered the store. Both cousins sat behind the register, hidden completely from view, in hopes that the newcomer would glance around and start browsing on their own. Miss Gee was always telling them about the importance of customer service, but they were both aware that sometimes, people just wanted to shop and look around without being talked to. That realization and the fact that their eccentric aunt was always off doing something during their work time, kept them from trying too hard in the "customer service" division.
"Hello? Is anyone here?" a voice asked, and both Robbie and Helga groaned at having to end their conversation to potentially help some 'ballet mom' find the right shade of pink tights for a child that would inevitably grow out of them in four to six months.
"One minute, ma'am, we're just waiting for my cousin's idiot boyfriend to show up so I can throw him from a tree with a rope around his neck."
Helga sat wide eyed at her cousin before she reached for something to strike him with. Miss Gee would forgive bad customer service, but Helga had a feeling that death threats wouldn't be taken as lightly, even if they weren't directed at the customer.
"Can this idiot redeem himself by providing his own rope?" asked the voice, causing Robbie to furrow his brow and turn to look over the register at the customer.
Robbie's face immediately fell once he saw who was standing before him. Curling his lip, he said, in a disgusted voice, "Oh. It's you." Turning to sit back down, facing Helga he straightened up his face, but still looked upset. "It's the idiot." he announced.
"Thanks. I'm kind of aware of that now." Helga said, before sighing, tiredly. She scratched her arm nervously, gathering her thoughts before she stood up.
"So, I was thinking, you know those discounted tights?" Robbie asked.
"Yeah?"
"They'd make a great rope…"
"Robbie!"
"Nice, and thick too. Just saying." he said, before standing up and offering his hand to Helga. "Come on, you lazy oaf. Time to rip the boyfriend a new one."
Closing her eyes, Helga weaved in between the racks of the store, looking for a secluded place to talk, trying not to think about what she'd say to Derek. Monday was a teacher conference, so school was closed, making it that much easier for her to avoid Derek, and she managed to get to all of her classes without seeing him at all. After school however, she found a note taped to her locker, letting her know that he'd be at the game and that he wanted to talk to her.
In truth, she didn't want to talk to him because she was not yet able to arrange her thoughts. For the remainder of the weekend, she contemplated ending the relationship, and came up with a number of reasons why the action was called for. Derek was changing, there was no doubt in her mind about that, but her sudden recognition of it unnerved her. Was she merely blinded by the prospect of someone liking her, so much so that she ignored his vices? Was she looking for a replacement for Arnold, who, only a few days before declared her his "friend"? After confirming that neither of these were true, she assured herself that she was an intelligent, witty young woman who deserved better. If Derek had some…thing for Viola, then that was on him. If he wanted to be dragged along by some scheming, duplicitous harpy, then she'd let him.
On the same note, against her better judgment, Helga had grown close to Derek, something she could not deny. He was funny and charming, and smart, and she admired him. She loved how he talked about his mother and cousin, as if they were the most important people in the world. She sympathized with him when he told her about his parents' divorce; about how he used to visit his father regularly, but stopped, and thought about starting up again. She wanted to be the person that he turned to after losing a big game, or when he was happy. She wanted to be there for him, but she was uncertain whether or not he could be there for her.
Once the two arrived in a row made entirely of vintage leotards, Helga turned on her heel, arms crossed and stared at Derek. She raised her eyebrows, silently asking if Derek had anything to say before she began her own tirade.
"I'm glad you asked me to come by." he began. "I really wanted to talk."
Helga was glad too. She felt a little better about the situation; he came bearing no overrated bouquets, or fake apologies. This would be easier than she anticipated,
"To be perfectly honest, I don't think that's the best way for you to go. Because every time you 'talk', you tend to dig yourself deeper into this hole. So, for a change, I'm going to talk first, and then you can say whatever you need to. That okay?" she asked, not waiting for an answer. "First of all, I don't care about what happened on Saturday. Whether it was a brief lapse of judgment, or too much sun, or your own stupidity, I don't care. It doesn't matter, okay? So no use trying to put together an apology for that.
"Secondly, I understand if you want to be 'friends' with Viola. Actually, I don't understand, seeing as she cheated on you, and referred to you as 'her leftovers'. But whatever, it's not my business. Be her friend. But, don't try to force me to be her friend. It's not going to happen. Not now, not ever. And don't try to make me feel like a bad person because I don't want to be her friend. It's my choice to make and you have no right scrutinizing it, the same way I don't have any choice scrutinizing your twisted friendship with her. And as long as we're talking about friendships, I don't want to hear another word about mine with Arnold. You knew what he was to me when we started dating, so I don't want to hear any bull about you thinking that I'm cheating or whatever. I could have gone to him this weekend about what a complete twit you were being, but I didn't. Take it as a compliment.
"Now, if you have anything to say in response, I'd like to hear it." she said, taking a deep breath and calming herself down.
Derek stared down at Helga, his mouth opening, as if he had something to say. He tried gesturing to compensate for his lacks of words, but stopped, letting his arms fall to his side. "I forgot everything I was going to say."
Helga nodded and looked around awkwardly. "Okay…" she said, slowly. "How about we take this one subject at a time?" she asked, as Derek nodded. 'I sure know how to pick the smart ones…' Helga said. "Great. First…Saturday?"
"Oh right." he said. "You know I didn't mean it like that, right? I was just…I was upset, and It came out all wrong. I'm really sorry." he said, sounding sincere. Helga knew better than to let that be the end.
"Derek, I frankly don't care what you think of my body. It's not an issue with me. Under no circumstances are you forgiven for what you said, but that's beside the point. What I do not appreciate is your callous regard for my feelings. It's like you're constantly talking out of your head." she said.
"I know, I know, and it was wrong of me to say that. And as for Arnold-"
"Yes?" Helga asked, ready for the onslaught.
"It shouldn't be weird for me to be as…upset about him and you, but I am. It's just weird for me; the two of you are so close, I wonder why you're dating me and not him." he confessed.
'I wonder the same thing sometimes…' she thought. "Well, if you'd spend less time being worried about me and Arnold-and trying to make me avoid him, you'd be a lot better off. And don't act like you don't do it. I've noticed all your new 'alternate routes'; it takes me twice as long to get to class." Helga said, trying to fight the smile on her face as Derek shrugged. "And I hate going back to the 'Viola thing', but-" she began.
"Then don't." Derek said. Helga had to fight the urge, this time to smack him.
"But we need to talk about this. It's not fair for me to feel second best, all the time!" she shouted.
"When do I make you feel second best?"
"When you talk about what a great person she's becoming, and how the two of you are going to be friends now, and how I should stop being so…so…captious!"
"I don't remember ever having used that terminology." Derek said, raising an eyebrow and attempting to lighten the mood.
"It doesn't matter, Derek. She's your friend, okay? I get that. I don't want her to be your friend, but I can deal with that." Helga said.
"Why wouldn't you want us to be friends?" he asked. "You're the one encouraging me to get back in touch with my dad, saying that I need to mend bridges, or whatever."
Helga rolled her eyes. This was taking longer than she intended, and she was missing out on valuable trash-talking time. "Derek, you know that's not the same, and you being friends with Viola is going to put me in a very difficult position. This is going to put a serious strain on our relationship." she explained.
"It hasn't so far!"
"Yes, it has! Every time we have any sort of argument, it's going to go right back to her, because that's going to be the biggest problem between us. Because every time that I want to talk to you, or call you, there's going to be a big obstacle in the way. And, to be honest, I'm so tired of her being everywhere! Since when does being your friend mean that she's your shadow?!"
"She's not my shadow, Helga…"
"Really? Because it seems like I can't go anywhere without us either talking about her, or her just being there! It's like there's some magical wizard of Skankdom, and by some sort of slut magic she appears to give me a mystical migraine!" Helga said, trying to calm herself down. "Maybe, we just rushed into this. I mean, I barely knew you, and you obviously don't know me. And as for skiing this weekend-"
"You're coming, right? I really don't want to go if you're not." Derek pleaded.
"I think that you should go with your friends, and get your mind cleared, and I should stay here and…figure things out for myself." she said, nodding. "In the meantime, I think we should take a break."
"What?!" Derek asked, completely blindsided by the remark. He thought he was making some kind of progress seeing as he had been standing in the store for upwards of seven minutes and no object had managed to come barreling toward his head. Yet.
"I just think that we need to get back on the same page, and we can't do that if we're around each other, fighting and tip-toeing and avoiding the real issues. And frankly, Derek, I'm exhausted." Helga confessed.
"Then come with me. Take a break from school and dance and-"
"Not like that. I'm tired. I'm tired all the time. You're right, I've got school and dance company and volleyball, and now this Caroline Henrietta dance "showdown" to worry about, and it feels like it's too much. And, at the end of the day, I need some kind of reprieve from everything. And for a while, I thought you would be that reprieve.
"Derek, let's face it, you and I are screwed up. And not like normal people, either. We are massively screwed up. And when we're around each other it's fun, and great, but sometimes it's just bad. I know that I've got some things that I need to clear up, and I have a feeling that you do too. I think it's best that you go with your friends; I have a ton of work to do, helping Olga plan this party for my parents…and next week, we'll take it from there."
"And what happens if, next week, we're not back to square one?" he asked, almost angrily, but Helga knew it was more hurt than anger.
"Then…I don't know." she said, beginning to feel tired again. She had to find an immediate respite from the feeling, but she couldn't think of any. She kept her arms crossed and her hands curled into tight fists, hidden from Derek's view. She could feel a headache brewing, but tried to fight it off.
Derek stared at Helga as she glanced away, awkwardly. Wringing his hands, he spoke even quieter than before, clearly nervous after her revelation. "I know you don't want to hear this, but, I really don't want to lose you. I mean it." he said, stepping closer. Helga anticipated his actions, but didn't try to avoid them. It would have been to much, moving away from him the way she really wanted to…adding insult to injury in the worst way. Derek left a soft kiss on her cheek, but she didn't turn to it, making it anything more than a simple peck. She looked at him sadly, letting him know with her eyes that her decision was final. Nodding, Derek left the store, without exchanging any pleasantries with Robbie.
Helga slid down beside a bin of marked down leg warmers and waited for Robbie to join her. When he did, he wordlessly sat down across from her, mirroring their positions when they sat behind the cash register.
"So…" he began awkwardly. "That looked like fun."
"More than you could possibly imagine." Helga said, dryly. She let her hair, loose from it's usual ponytail fall into her face and over her back. She hadn't worn her hair loose in a long time. Derek told her that it was distracting and "unkempt" looking. Derek had a lot of opinions regarding a lot of things.
"What happened, exactly?" he asked. "I mean, one minute you were all, 'this guy is so awesome, and I met his cousin and we danced' and all of a sudden, you're kind of moody looking, and kind of cranky like when it's your time of the month and you're too angry to tell me, but I already know, but I'm trying to be nice and not say that I know, so you don't hit me or something." Robbie said, smiling after his speech.
'Maybe I should hook him up with Lila…' she thought, before reverting back to her current situation. "I don't know, I'm just…in a weird place, and I have to get my mind right, before I do anything else." Helga said.
"Sounds to me, my dear, fat little cousin, that you need a break." Before Helga could agree, or glance at the nearby clock to confirm how much time was left until closing, Robbie shouted up to their aunt, in her office on the second floor. She came out, dressed in her signature deep purple and burgundy, and leaned over the rail. The second floor of the store held not only her office but her "workshop", the area where she did most, if not all of her tailoring and alteration work. Even the stairs leading up to her secluded area was littered with scarps of fabric, buttons and sequins.
"Yes?" she drawled, looking down over Helga and Robbie.
"Helga's not feeling well, and has to go home." he yelled back.
"Not feeling well?"
Robbie rolled his eyes. "She's…well, it's her 'time of the month', if you will…" he shouted back, cupping his hand to his mouth as if telling a secret, despite the volume with which he was speaking. Helga frowned and kicked at her cousin, who managed to move away from her just in time. "What? The ex boyfriend has left the building, and there's nothing but a few ballet moms shopping around, anyway." he told her.
As she left, she wasn't sure whether she should thank Robbie or throw him from a tree along with Derek. On the one hand, he got her the rest of the evening off. At the same time, four 'ballet moms' offered her disposable napkins on her way out of the store.
"And so, photo editing programs should be used only to enhance a photo. The job of a photojournalist is to record history; capture it for the sake of learning. Not to change it." Mr. Z said, addressing his class. He placed his notes back on the lectern and steeped from behind it. "Now, class, feel free to take a five-minute break while I set up the dark room." he finished, as the class began to empty into the hallway.
Derek was busy arranging his negatives into their individual sleeves when the word "break" met his ears and he was immediately reminded of the conversation he had with Helga the day before. Unwillingly he gave her some space; showing up late for his assignment as English Aide, so as not to bump into her, and not offering more than a friendly smile when she passed him in the hallways, to and from class. He silently hoped that it would eat away at her; she'd see and feel what it was like to be without him and the two could end their silly break before he left for the mountains the following day. However, as time went on, he realized that she was taking their 'break' fairly well; he watched her laughing in the cafeteria with her friends, chatting aimlessly with the librarians and from the garbage he found in the English office, she didn't take his comment about her size too seriously. The bag in the garbage bin read 'The Donut Shack' and smelled suspiciously of chocolate.
The realization dawned on him that something, or someone else may have already known about the temporary break that he and Helga were going through, and decided to approach the situation head on. Walking across the classroom, Derek moved toward the seat that Arnold relocated himself to a few weeks ago. Arnold sat quietly at his station, headphones in his ears as he marked the areas on one of his photos that needed some work. He didn't take notice of Derek's presence until he knocked on the table.
Removing one of his headphones, Arnold looked at Derek, clearly bored. "What?" he asked, monotonously.
"Listen up: this is just a break. Nothing more. Don't get your hopes up." Derek said, simply, wrinkling his brow.
Arnold blinked at Derek's remark, before looking to the clock on a nearby wall. He nodded to Derek, but kept his face expressionless. "I know. Five minutes? That's barely enough time to run to the vending machines downstairs…" he said.
Derek stood before him, enraged not only because he was sure that Arnold knew what he was really talking about, and even more frustrated that he wasn't able to intimidate him. "I mean it. You stay away from her, understand?" he said, leaving Arnold alone at the table.
Arnold stared after Derek, clearly confused. Assuming that the young man had a bad head injury from his most recent lacrosse game, or spent too much time breathing in developer solution, Arnold replaced his headphones and stared at his photos, shaking his head.
Sitting at the island in the kitchen, Helga placed another slice of cheese on the piece of bread and placed it in the toaster oven. Turning it on, she moved to replace the food, when someone entered the kitchen.
"Hey Helg…what are you doing, Woman?!" Kevin said, eyeing the block of cheese in Helga's hand.
Setting the cheese down on the counter, Helga placed her hands on her hips and looked at her brother in law. "Look here, I've contended with you calling me "Woman" for five years now. Cut it out. You have a wife…call her woman. I'm no one's wife." Helga said, knowing that the banter between herself and Kevin was far too light-hearted to take seriously.
Disregarding her comment, he continued. "Whatever, Woman. All I know is, you had best put down my cheese, or there will be serious ramifications."
"Your cheese?" Helga asked.
"Yes. My cheese. This is my house, that's my cheese." he said, snatching it from her.
Holding up her hands defensively, Helga stepped back. "Alright, alright, it's your cheese. Sorry for touching the cheese of His Highness, however can I repay you?" she asked sarcastically.
Grabbing a knife from a nearby drawer, Kevin began slicing a few pieces for himself. "You can explain why you're in my house, again. Not that I mind, just wondering."
"I'm helping your insane wife plan this party." Helga said, waiting for the toaster oven to glow bright red. "Did you know that she's trying to pull this thing off for next weekend?! Is she crazy, or something?"
"We both know the answer to that, Helga. " he said, chuckling. "What's so bad about her planning a party for next weekend? You're not busy, are you?"
"No." Helga said, crossing her arms and leaning on the counter. "I just have a ton of things to worry about right now. There's this dance competition coming up, and we haven't even gotten all the details about that, so it could really be anything. Then there's the party that Olga's planning, and you know she's going to try and make it ridiculously huge. Then, there's Derek-"
"What happened to Derek?" Kevin asked. Sometime after the babysitter incident, Helga explained to him just who was and was not her boyfriend, and even though he slipped up at times, he was generally good at keeping them in line. She figured that it was just her own family who had a bad time remembering names.
"We're kind of…broken up?" she said, raising an eyebrow and posing the answer as a question. She wasn't sure how to word the status of her relationship; she was firm with Derek, as firm as she knew how to be in her current state of stress, letting him know what she needed to do, apart from him. How he interpreted that, was a mystery.
"Kind of broken up?" Kevin asked, shrugging his shoulders. "So, were you the dumper or the dumpee?"
"Dumper." Helga answered, quickly. She smiled to herself as the toaster oven 'dinged' and she removed her slices of toast from it, ready to make a sandwich. She looked back to Kevin to find him smiling at her. "What?" she asked.
"Nothing. It's just that, you say 'We're broken up', but you don't look broken up. You seem okay, albeit a little bit stressed." he noted.
Helga assembled her sandwich and thought about what Kevin was saying. Aside from being under an extreme amount of stress, she was faring pretty well. Her anxiety came from ending things with Derek (even though she was smart enough to know that things weren't completely over; Derek's plea was enough to let her know that), and once that task was handled, she felt a great deal of ease. The coming weekend, however was proving to be just the opposite. Olga loved planning, and when she did, she always went big.
"I guess I am." she said, taking a bite out of her sandwich.
Before Kevin could reply, a shrill "Helga!' rang from the living room and Helga sighed, even with her mouth full of food. Snatching a clean plate from the countertop, she turned toward the living room, moving lethargically. Once in the living area, Helga took a seat next to Olga, who sat up perfectly straight on the couch, balancing a laptop on her knee, while Helga lounged.
"You rang?" she asked, taking another bite of her sandwich.
"Okay, so," Olga began, looking excited. "I've got the venue down, invitations are being sent out via email, and all the decorations are coming together. Now, we get to the fun part!" she squealed.
Helga smiled widely and clapped her hands together. "Oh, but Olga, this has already been so much fun, just ever-so much fun!" she said, letting the fake smile drop from her face to reveal her apprehension regarding the rest of the party planning details. She couldn't care less if they held the party in an abandoned barn…
"I know!" Olga said, excitedly, obviously not noticing her sister's boredom. "I found both of our dresses, come see!" she said, motioning for Helga to scoot over on the couch. Lazily, she complied, and leaned over to view the screen of the laptop. "This one is mine." she said, pulling up a picture of a dark haired model in a long, lavender gown. The silky material hugged the lithe frame of the model and the strapless, sweetheart neckline made the wearer look taller than she was.
"That's actually a really nice dress, Olga." Helga said. Even though she was older, Helga was always impressed with Olga's ability to give birth to two kids and still look like how she did in college.
"I know! And I found yours too…look." she said, clicking on a link that revealed another dress. This was was s deep green, and like Olga's it was long. The neckline, however was a straight line across the shoulder and it boasted an empire waist, something Helga wasn't too fond of.
"Um, Olga, why did you order my dress from the maternity section?" she asked.
"You Silly, that's not maternity. That's just how it's cut." she explained.
"But the model looks pregnant. I don't want to look pregnant. I'm not pregnant. You don't want mom and dad to think that their anniversary party is going to double as a "Hey Guess What? Your Daughter is Pregnant " party, do you?" she asked, eyeing the dress again. "And what's up with that color? It looks like it's made out of army fatigues…"
"Mommy's favorite color is lavender and daddy likes green. So, it's only appropriate that those are the theme colors for the night. And the dress will look wonderful on you, just wait." she assured her, as Kevin entered the room. Standing behind his wife, he stopped and stared at the illuminated computer screen, furrowing his brow in confusion.
"Baby," he said, addressing his wife. "Why are you looking at maternity gowns? Do you have something to tell me? We just had twins!" he panicked.
"See, he thinks it's maternity too." Helga said.
"It's not maternity, and I'm not pregnant. This is Helga's dress for the party next week." Olga explained.
Kevin then looked to Helga wide eyes. "Is that why you broke up with him? You're pregnant?"
"Broke up with who? Arnold?" Olga asked.
"I wasn't dating Arnold." Helga said, knowing that the conversation could only go downhill from there.
"Then how'd he get you pregnant?" Kevin asked.
"He didn't!"
"So it's Derek's baby?"
"What baby?" Olga asked, shocked.
"There is no baby!"
"Oh Helga," Olga said, placing a hand on her sister's knee. "Did you…lose the baby?"
Helga continued fuming. "There never was a baby." she said through her teeth.
"If there never was a baby," Kevin began. "Then why are you wearing a maternity gown to your parents anniversary party?"
"It's not a maternity, gown!" Olga defended.
Helga shook her head and stood up, facing the couple. "I'm convinced that everyone around me has officially lost their marbles. As a result, I must take my leave." Helga bent to gather her bag and coat. "Oh, and don't worry about ordering that dress for me, Olga. I'll just…find my own."
"Remember, it has to be green." she said, over her shoulder. "Oh and I need you to do one more, little teensy, tiny thing for me…"
"What?" Helga asked, her hand on the doorknob.
"I'm going to need you to go pick up grandma." Olga said, smiling nervously.
Helga stopped moving and stared at her sister. If that was a teensy, tiny favor, then she wanted to know what a big favor was. "Olga, grandma lives in Dickinson. Dickinson, North Dakota. Fifteen hours away." she reminded her sister.
"I know…"
"When am I supposed to do that? I have school…" she said. Helga never had any problem visiting her grandmother. She surmised that of all the members in her immediate family, she probably visited her grandmother the most.
"I called the school today and told them you'd be out for the rest of the week." Olga said, smiling at her handiwork.
"Olga! You can't just call the school and tell them that I'll be out! Plus, don't they usually need permission from a parent or guardian? Last time I checked, you're neither."
"Oh Helga," Olga said, waving her hand at her like she'd just said something silly. "I'm Olga Pataki." she finished, as if it were the end all be all of everything. Helga was convinced that, on more than one occasion, Olga used her name to get exactly what she wasted.
"Actually, you're Olga Winters." Helga corrected her. "And I'm really, really busy these days."
"But, Helg-uhhh, I need you to do this for me. She's staying with us up until the party, and then I'll be glad to take her back home. Please?" she asked, pouting.
"Fine." Helga said, looking forward to getting out of Hillwood, for what looked like the remainder of the week and on into the weekend, and visiting her grandmother, but not to the fifteen hour drive to Dickinson. Closing the front door behind her, she ignored the excited "thanks" that Olga sent her way, and tried to think of when she could leave.
On her short trek home, she was struck with an idea, that, to any sane person, made absolutely no sense and required a great deal of coaxing to work out. Once she was home, she told her mother what Olga planned for her (only to find that Miriam was already informed and approved of the trip) and removed a dark blue suitcase from the attic. Laying it open on the floor of her bedroom, she stared at it, wondering what and how to pack for a trip that would last several days. Smiling to herself she kicked it closed and moved it into her closet, out of sight.
Digging her phone out of her bag, Helga went into her most recent calls list and found the number she was looking for. Three rings later, she was met with a tired sounding voice, even though it was only around six o'clock at night.
"Hey Footballhead." she said, still grinning. "How quickly can you get packed?"
Yeah, I wish I could say that this was the end, and Arnold and Helga are together, and Derek really does run away somewhere, only to be eaten by a rhino, but no. Much more to come.
I've run out of lyrics with which to name my chapters, and now I have tot think of them all by myself.
My big brother (whom Kevin is somewhat modeled after) really does call me "Woman". I thought it'd stop after he got married, but alas. It has not. Hope you enjoyed!
-Pointy_Objects
