The Devil Wears Boyfriend Cut Jeans
"And Helena," Myka said before making her way out of the bedroom, "We're going to talk about the Penthouse later."
Helena noticed it wasn't a question. Oh that was a conversation Helena was going to avoid for as long as she could. That was another chapter of her history she was hoping to wait on Myka reading. Helena grabbed her robe and followed her downstairs.
"Nice going, boss," Claudia said holding out the Daily News headline which showed a picture of Helena's fist connecting with Ted Grayson's jaw. "Grayson Falls For Wells" it read in large bold print.
"Oh good, plenty of pictures will help our case …not," Myka said sipping orange juice.
"Are you okay?" Eileen asked looking at her boss' hand. Helena longed to say her pain was somewhere else entirely and could they leave so Myka could tend to it, but she didn't.
"Yes, barely a scratch. I was a trained agent at one point in my life," Helena reminded them.
"I knew you needed to kick-ass last night," Claudia said and then looked at everyone staring at her. "What?"
"Speaking of …..that," Myka said delicately, "We're going to take Ms. Wells off-line and have the GPS disc removed," she informed the Teckie. Again Helena noticed it wasn't a question.
"Wait until you see what we got you!" Claudia said excited. She knew Helena could refuse her, but never Eileen.
"We have been working on it all week," Eileen said.
Helena took the Macy's shopping bag of which none of these things were purchased at. Helena looked in and saw …..well, things she could not readily identify.
"What…..are …..these?" she asked genuinely confused.
"And you think you know couture," Claudia joked. She was going to pay her boss back for every time she ever tortured her by trying to invade the firewall.
"Ms. Sullivan picked most of this out herself," Claudia said smiling and Helena knew immediately she meant 'so you can't refuse.'
"I thought the tour was tomorrow?" Helena said and they explained they moved it to Saturday because the press was all over the story from last night. "They'll never recognize you in this," Claudia said.
"I should hope not," Helena said softly as she made her way back upstairs, but Myka heard her.
The three women sat at the dining room table and talked to Leena who brought in toasted English muffins.
"I wish I could give you something stronger," Leena said feeling for them.
Suddenly, they heard blood curdling screams and Myka jumped up from the table and flew up the stairs. Short of being electrocuted, Myka couldn't imagine what could cause Helena that much pain. She pushed open the door expecting to see her lover in anguish, but she was standing there in her underwear.
"Helena! Are you okay? You scared the hell out of me," Myka said out of breath.
"Hell is where these clothes should be, Myka," Helena said.
"You're not hurt?" Myka asked.
"My sense of fashion is about to be severely injured, but no I'm not hurt," Helena explained patiently.
"You frightened me, Helena," Myka said getting annoyed that Helena didn't know that.
"If you want to really be frightened, take a look at what they expect me to where," Helena said all but pouting.
Myka sat down in the chair, her hand on her heart that continued to pound. "Just wear it, Helena. They went to a lot of trouble."
"Oh seriously Myka," Helena said picking up the clothes and dropping them back in the bag.
"Don't be a snob, Helena," Myka said with the slight bit of chastising in her tone.
"Snob? I beg your pardon!" Helena took offense. "Myka, I am as fond of this island as any native, but I do not have the need to declare it on my chest with a heart symbol and bold letters!" Helena said holding up the gray t-shirt that said "I (heart) NY"
Myka burst into laughter at how upset Helena was. "I do not understand your allegiance," Helena scoffed. "And if Jimmy sees me in these, he will lie down and die!" Helena said of the green high top canvas sneakers. "They ….they …nothing matches," Helena whined.
"The chucks match," Myka said of the pair. "Come on, it will be fun."
"…..Said the woman in the Donna Karen pants and blouse and Versace boots," Helena snipped as she pulled up the faded jeans with the tear in them.
"They bought damaged clothes, Myka," she said.
"No, they sell them like that. It's a 'look'," Myka explained.
'Well I have never heard of Mr. G-A-P or his clothing line," Helena said putting her leg in.
Then she caught her foot in the rip and fell over onto the bed. The angrier she got, the harder it seemed for her to get the clothes on. Myka sat there with her mouth covered trying so hard not to laugh.
"Well at least they had the sense to give me a blue …what is this….. to cover up the geographical commitment emblem," Helena said putting on the hoodie sweatshirt.
"You know it….," and Myka was going to point out the Giants football logo on the back, but thought better of it. Helena bent down and tried to get in the sneaker by pressing her foot into the top, but the material caved in. She looked at Myka.
"You need to loosen the laces and pull it up," Myka said trying not to look her in the eye. She was on the verge of losing it. Helena grumbled some more and unfastened the laces and put them on her feet and pulled them so tight she had to undo it.
"Do you need help?" Myka asked her voice cracking a little. Myka bent down and helped Helena with the shoes.
"You are enjoying this, aren't you?" Helena finally noticed.
"A little….maybe," Myka said sucking her lips in to control the laugh building up inside. "It's just you look …adorable," she said and finally Helena saw some positive in all of this.
"Really?" Helena asked unable to fathom how Myka thought so.
"Helena, you could wear a sackcloth and look sexy," Myka stated.
"Thank you," Helena said trying to adjust to the looseness of her shirt and jacket. "Nothing is the right fit," she complained.
Helena was deciding she could be a good sport about it when the yelling started all over again.
"Absolutely not ….unequivocally…hell will freeze over …no!" she said taking the cap out of the bag with the iconic Yankees name embroidered across it.
"You do know that's the baseball team, yes? Not the people who beat you in the war?" Myka asked.
Helena stared at the hat. Of course she knew that…now. "Indeed," she said and took it with her.
"You look great and the girls will be so pleased," Myka said hugging Helena.
Helena took a couple of steps in her new footwear and her gait was quite awkward.
"They're not clown shoes, Helena," Myka said taking her by the arm.
Eileen and Claudia came to the bottom of the steps when Myka called them. Helena posed at the top of the stairs and they clapped their approval.
"Oh my God, you look so cute!" Eileen said.
Helena saw how pleased the young girl was and took a deep breath and descended the stairs.
"No one will recognize you now, boss," Claudia said. Helena leaned over to the woman who thought she might have something on her boss.
"Oh I am holding you to that, Ms. Donovan, believe me," Helena said in a thinly veiled threat.
Eileen and Claudia led the way out the back of the townhouse so no one would see them.
"Myka," Helena said, stopping in the doorway, "I think knowing there is a reward for my remaining silent about this outfit and this outing is in order."
Her attempt at getting a bribe was blatant. Myka pulled the baseball cap from under Helena's arm and put it on the Brit's head.
"You're going to have French tea, sweetheart. Isn't that reward enough?" Myka teased.
"This is not funny," Helena complained pushing her sunglasses on. "This is seriously not funny! Bloody hell, I'm having tea with a bunch of Americans. The only thing that could make this worse is if it were in Boston," Helena said annoyed.
The four walked to the train station and took the train south to meet up with the tour group. Claudia was right – no one recognized Helena in that outfit. A limo was stopped at a light when they crossed the street and the passenger - a well-dressed woman in a signature page-boy bob haircut and sunglasses lowered the window and stared. Then the editor-in-chief of Vogue shook her head no and closed her window. She couldn't imagine her friend who could wear any designer in the world and look good – would be wearing that!
"That was a scary thought," Anna Wintour said to herself.
"Pardon?" her aide said next to her.
"I thought I just saw a sign that the world was going to hell in a hand basket," the Vogue chief said.
Claudia and Eileen ran ahead when they saw the tour group waiting outside La Maison du Chocolat shop at Madison and 79th. "We love our guests to be enthusiastic!" the tour guide said and Helena took that to mean she welcomed their commentaries.
"You see? That is exactly my point," Helena said making the first of several she would state that day.
"What is that Helena?" Myka asked, taking her sweat- shirted friend by the arm.
"The French are magnificent chocolatiers. The have even been known to make a decent wine or two," Helena said in all seriousness.
"One or two," Myka smiled.
"But not tea, Myka. The English consume two kilos per capita where the French top out at 250 grams. Two thousand to two hundred and fifty," she emphasized, hoping statistics would make her point clearer.
"I didn't know that," Myka said sympathetically.
The tour continued and Myka realized that Helena was set to make personal comments through the talk. She purchased a bag of tea infused small chocolates they had sampled from the Decadent Collection and proceeded to place one on Helena's lips whenever she opened her mouth with yet another disparaging remark. It did the trick, and the tour guide was able to get through the short lecture without the Brit commenting.
Eileen and Claudia took pictures of Helena in her new outfit for posterity. While walking to their next destination – an English and French china shop named Bernardaud on 5th Avenue, a rather tall brawny man came over and slapped Helena on the back. "Fans stick with their teams even when the season sucks," he said of the 0 and 5 Giants. Helena smiled back at him, but was clueless. She was just happy he didn't seem to recognize her.
"Here we will see the china pattern of Marie Antoinette," the tour guide gushed as they entered the china shop.
"Did they ever hear of Royal Dalton? Waterford?" Helena whispered before a candy was promptly placed at her lips.
"Next we go James Robinson," Eileen informed them as the unofficial guide. "We'll get to see antique silver tea pots, creamers, and sugar bowls."
"Is there actually any tea on the Tea Tour?" Helena started to ask before two pieces made it past her lips. "Darling, I cannot tell you how much I am enjoying this feeding game, but I fear if it keeps up, I will be too ill to actually have tea – if in fact we ever get to that part," Helena said undeterred.
Finally, the tourists were shuttled by taxis downtown to the lower West Side, where they piled into Arium and were seated for afternoon tea. Each participant picked out a tea and selected from the three course menu. They started with scones, then finger sandwiches and then finished with a small dessert.
"Ms. Sullivan, it is my humble opinion, that you have nothing to fear from these people. Your tea is by far superior in every way," Helena said and the assistant beamed.
The tour guide thanked them all for coming and patted her forehead with a napkin, thankful the tour with the unsettled Brit was done. Eileen thanked her for giving being such an informative guide. Then the four made their way back uptown to the townhouse where things had quieted down.
"Thank you so much, Ms. Wells for coming with us today. I know the outfit was …..not to your liking…," Eileen said because she knew her boss' taste in practically everything. "You probably can't wait to get out of them," the girl suggested innocently.
Right on cue, Myka gently kicked Helena in her ankle to stop her from answering that statement instantly and without thought.
"Ms. Sullivan," Helena said reaching down and rubbing her injured foot, "I have actually grown accustomed to these items which proved to be quite comfortable… and functional," Helena said thinking of the ripped jeans in particular and how Myka inadvertently touched her skin every time she leaned over to say something.
"So much easier to tear one's clothes off when they're already ripped," she whispered to Myka.
Eileen returned home to Brooklyn where she spent the rest of the evening telling her parents about the Mayor's dinner and then the tea tour. "French tea?" her mother asked. "I never heard of such a thing," she said and Eileen thought that was one more thing her mother had in common with her boss.
Claudia and Steve met up with Pete to watch the Yankees game. Steve was pleased to see his friend was in a much better mood and didn't tempt fate by asking what happened. He was just happy to see her being her old self and yelling at the Red Sox. Pete was glad to be out with his friends after his mother's visit concluded. He was just looking forward to getting back to work on Monday. Helena being in the limelight meant he would have to be more creative in getting her around and out of the media's eye. Irene was cooking all weekend, getting ready for her sons to visit after they landed. She was content that they had decided to come east, even if she knew Helena would not have given up until they conceded.
That night, Myka sat on the couch with Helena's head in her lap. She was reading one of the first editions of "When the Sleeper Awakes," a story serialized by HG Wells in 1898 and 1899. It tells the story of a man who sleeps for two hundred and three years, waking up in a transformed world, and having all of his dreams realized. As Myka read, she stroked the silken black hair of the author who was asleep in her lap. How amazing it was, Myka thought that Helena had written a story that foretold what she herself would in some way, live through.
When Myka was done, she put the book down on the end table and turned down the light and watched the fall leaves cascade off the trees in Central Park across the street, as Helena continued to sleep.
"I hope you get to realize all your dreams, Helena," Myka whispered kissing the Brit on the head.
Indeed, Helena was at that very moment fantasizing peacefully about the woman who had made her dreams of true love – dreams she had given up on - become real.
Myka had done that, and so much more.
A short epilogue will follow to address loose ends.