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"You mean to tell me you ended up dating the Irish one?" Arnold's highly displeased wife scanned her husband's eyes, possibly anticipating a reaction fraught with trepidation. Either way, my own lady and I were intelligent enough to realize silence was in our best interest. "And you never let me in on it?"
"Scottish Irish, honey," either my buddy could foretell his wife's oncoming mood swings or he masked his fear bravely while providing her with an answer that was a great deal more than she bargained for. "And I did more than date her. I-..."
"You lived with her?" The color of the girl's fresh complexion deepened to match the shade of her siren red silk blouse.
"How'd ya guess?" my buddy winced, prepared for immediate death by means of asphyxiation. "Oh, and did I happen to mention her father's part Welsh too?"
"Part Welsh, huh? I don't care if her father owns the entire British Isles!"
"Uh, should we leave you two alone for a moment?" Arnold entangled himself in his own web and I had a feeling the situation about to come next might call for some violent interaction.
"No, you're fine," she motioned with a wave of her hand for me and my baby to stay put, then lay into her husband like a swift blade that slices so clean it leaves its wound little room to bleed. "After she relentlessly tormented and even blackmailed you for almost a year of high school, then ultimately caused the demise of our relationship she actually had the audacity to con yu into living withe her and you accepted? But that's not the point. The point is you never let me in on the fact you lived with Sarah, and then when you finally do tell admit to me that you did indeed live with Ms. Queen Campfire Lass, you come on like some smug cartoon character who could care less about my feelings!"
"People change, hon. Sarah Jameison grew up," her husband, while defending his own choices in life, also submitted to fault, "and you're right. I should have told you about Sarah years ago, but...and this is hard for me to say because I never let you know how I've obtained the information I'm about to disclose to you...While Sarah and I were living in the boarding house her in Hillwood, you were renting an upscale apartment in the heart of New York City...residing with Henry."
"How-how did you...?" His sweetheart's face drained from crimson to ashen. Her arms fell to her sides. "Did Henry tell you this when he moved back to Hillwood?"
"No, I sort of found out by accident while doing research over at the university." Arnold's distraught eyes seemed to be measuring the weight of what he was about to expose to his peers. "I'd been recording data in the lab when I stumbled upon the pages of some opened mail addressed to John. When my ex's first name handwritten in bold script caught my attention I couldn't stand it any longer. I knew I'd probably cause the destruction of a stable relationship and I knew it was wrong to deprive John his privacy, but I read the letter anyway."
"So, htis is how you found out I was living with Henry in New York?" His wife crossed her arms, scowling that all too familiar scowl derived from our pubescent years. Unexpectedly out of her mouth spawned a hysterical if not almost maniacal spasm of laughter. Too bad my bench wasn't equipped with an automated launch pad 'cause I was starting to freak out. Why oh why did Arnold have to keep this little secret from her for so long? "HA! HA! HA! You were so pathetic you had to read John's mail? I mean, come on, John? HA! HA! HA!"
"Desperate or not, I don't care whose mail it was," irritated by all the ruckus, my wife stood up, reprimanding my best friend. "You don't go snooping into someone else's private life by reading their personal mail! I can't believe you actually had it in you to do something like that, Arnold. Then you have the nerve to keep all these personal experiences you shared with Sarah to yourself? At least Gerald and I are open about our previous relationships, aren't we, honey?"
"Um, yeah," I lied, remembering the phone call I'd had with Phoebe prior to this evening and probably feeling just as guilty as Arnold most likely was right now. "So we do."
"Come on, Doll. I do believe your husband needs some time to consider how his deplorable actions have afflicted the human condition of others. Besides, my dear, you're in need of a well deserved break. We're taking a walk up to the pier for some clean air. When we get back there best be nothing foul parting from the lips of anyone's mouths. Let's go." Surprisingly, the fierce blue eyed woman allowed my wife to take her by the arm and silently adjusted her pace to keep in step with the other fair fo firm legs.
"Hmmph. You're one to talk," Arnold muttered through his breath. "You think you're so-..."
"Hey, Arnold, you okay buddy?" He was clearly not okay by the way his hands were fumbling nervously in and out of his pants pockets in search of something or other.
"No, not really," they boy sighed, "where did she put my...ugh."
"Settle down man, you're shaking." Our latest subject of discussion had Arnold discombobulated, "Did my girl get you that upset? Don't worry about her? She's not perfect either. It's not like she doesn't make mistakes herself.
"It's not that. It's just..." he halted, palms turned upward, still trembling from the private conflict rolling through his mind. "It's just-Gerald? Have you ever kept anything, I mean anything at all about your personal life from your wife?"
"Despite what she just told you, yeah. I wouldn't be human if I didn't. I keep some secrets to myself. Arnold, can I tell you something?"
"Sure."
"Arnold, the truth is, I called Phoebe earlier this afternoon while we were at the diner. I guess I just got to thinkin' about the past and dialed her parent's number. I gotta be the worst husband on the face of the planet."
"No you're not. From what I've seen, you treat your wife with nothing but love and respect. You shouldn't feel ashamed because your mind was on a past love, however I do believe you should sort out all these thoughts of Phoebe you're having in your head. After that, you need to have an honest heart to heart talk with your wife. It'll probably be the best thing either one of you ever did for the other. You hear me on this, right Gerald?"
"I gotta hand it to ya, Arnold. You're really somethin'." Wrinkling his eyes, he dismissed the notion. "Don't deny it, buddy, you are. I mean, here you are troubled by your own past all the while giving me advice on what to do about my situation. That's the Arnold I remember."
"Heh, really?" Arnold let out a doubtful laugh. "It's been so long her barely knows that side of himself anymore."
"Aw, come on man," I secured his altruistic disposition, "you can't tell me you don't give your wife advice whenever she has a problem."
"Yeah, I remember the time she tried to cheat the pizza delivery guy out of his tip," his laugh sounded more chipper this time around. "She thanked him for the pizza then told him to get the heck out of there. The poor guy just stood there so I intervened. I said, 'Look at how exhausted this poor man is from driving around town all night.' She gives me one of those looks, hands him a ten and says, 'Fine. Here, take it and get outta here.' Elated, the guy thanks her, then hops into his car and takes off. After he's gone she glares at me for at least fifteen minutes. You should have seen her. It was so funny."
"I'll bet, but that really wasn't helping her with her problems. That was you doing what you've been doing forever with her. She handed him a ten? Man, wish I would a been that guy."
"I guess you're right, Gerald. If I'm still implanting moral ideas into her head, then my old self never left, right? Thanks for reminding me."
"No problem." Confusion suddenly caught me in its grip. "Hey, wait a minute. Shouldn't I be thanking you? Now, tell me Arnold, what's eatin' you so bad you can't tell your wife?"
"Here they come now, and you'll find out soon enough."
The two women slowly approached our bench, the author baring a face not unlike that of a child who's been scolded by its mother. She knelt into Arnold's lap clapping her hands over his shoulders.
"Arnold, I'm...I'm sorry for the things I said about Brai-I mean John. I know he's your co-worker and I know he's responsible and reliable when it comes to your research, but he's been crawling underneath my skin ever since I realized he existed."
"Crawling underneath your skin?" I nudged my wife's arm. "Uh, what exactly did you say to her while you two were out on the pier?"
"That was a private conversation between two females between two females not meant to be heard by the ears of the opposite sex."
"Excuse me," but she ignored the contemptuous retort, pointing a finger to Arnold and his remorseful wife.
"No, I'm sorry. I should have told you about this a long time ago, but I was never sure when I should of if you'd ever be ready for it." He pulled his wife's hands off his shoulders, then sat her down on the bench. Since he'd been sitting on it for a long period himself, he stretched his lanky legs, rising from his seat to begin what I guessed was his own heartfelt discussion with the woman of his life. "What I'm about to say will probably upset you, so before you blow up like a field mine, I want you to hear me out. In fact, I want all of you to listen because this is something I haven't even told you about, Gerald."
"Really?" This wasn't the first time and I was beginning to think there were a lot of things he hadn't told me.
"I know all of you think of Sarah as a possessive control freak, but when I ran into her that night at the bar-..."
"I still can't see you in a bar, Arnold."
"It was a research project, Gerald. I haven't stepped into a pub since then. Can we please get back to Sarah? When I met her there and we finally had the chance to talk I got to know the adult Sarah who wasn't so bad. You remember my grandma died that year, right? And Grandpa had already passed on a few years earlier so I was alone. I mean, I had the boarders and they've always been sort of like a family to me, but they weren't Grandpa and Grandma. What I'm getting at is Sarah never asked me to live with her so give her a little credit. She at least deserves some dignity." Arnold drew in a deep breath, then let it all out once. "The truth is, I had nobody and I was so lonely. I asked her to live with me. Now you know."
As he collapsed back onto the bench, Arnold slumped his shoulders and remained quiet while waiting for one of us to respond. His wife sat still as the night air, barely breathing. Was this what they called the calm before the storm. If it was, the decision to leave sounded real good right now. Whatever thoughts probed their way into each of our minds, none of us spoke aloud for several minutes. It was my baby who broke the silence by uttering a few words of wisdom about the realities of high school dating which I was all too well aware of.
"To be perfectly honest, I see no need for the arousal of malicious behavior. Think about it. Five years had passed with not so much as a phone call, letter, or even a postcard from you. What did you think Arnold would do? There's a point in time when you have to move on." She then turned to face the man who'd bared his soul. "Don't think you're off the hook either, Arnold. If she meant that much to you, why didn't you get a hold of her parents or why not contact her sister? Heck, if you couldn't rely on them, you could have always relied on John to find her. Everybody knows Brai-John was madly in love with her since pre-school. It wouldn't surprise me if he still is."
"Huh?" I noticed a slight twitch in Arnold's mouth. "I'm not so sure he'd be my lab partner if he was, but-..."
"And you!" my wife now pointed an incriminating finger toward me. "Pretending you never knew Arnold dated Sarah back in high school or that he lived with her-..."
"Wait a minute!" I protested. "I never knew he dated her in high school even in I did know she lived with him a short period of time years later."
"Still, it's bad enough you went along with Arnold's schemes, and Arnold, you should be ashamed of yourself for pretending not to know the real Sarah very well when indeed you did. How deceitful! If I was your wife I don't think I'd ever speak to you again."
"Baby, correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't that contrary to what you just a few minutes ago?" She knew I had her pinned. "I mean doesn't the mere suggestion of not speaking to one another carry the slightest notion of implying malicious behavior?"
"I'll grant you the fact you caught me in a misguided rant," she admitted, "but that doesn't account for lying to both us women. That includes you too, Arnold. I can't believe-..."
"Shut it!" After staying silent for so long, Arnold's wife finally spoke out. "Both of you need to cut the crap! Did you ever think there was a reason Arnold didn't tell me this? Yeah, I'm upset and yeah I wish he would have told me about it, but like you said, the past is the past so let it be! Besides, whatever they had together obviously didn't work out or I wouldn't be standing here, so quit bickering and let Arnold do the talking. He's perfectly capable of explaining himself. Arnold?"
Arnold reluctantly cleared his throat after we'd all been subjected to silence due to his wife's sudden outburst. He also made it clear he wanted out full undivided attention.
"Listen up and listen carefully because what I'm not going to repeat myself." He arose from the bench for the last time, taking on a threatening stance as if we'd regret our punishment if one of us was to drift off into a daze. "You all know now that I asked Sarah Jameison to live with me and she accepted. The truth is, we lived together for almost five years and grew to know each other very well. What you don't know is our relationship was more of a companionship between two lonely people. You might say we subconsciously used each other for the sake of having a presence in each of our lives. Sarah eventually figured this out, confronting me the day I came home with John's letter. That day was tough, especially for Sarah."
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"What the...?" I examined the letters on the page a second time making sure I hadn't misread the name. I hadn't. Clearly, the name was hers and I had to ask myself why he was receiving mail about her. Since I didn't want to risk the entire letter here at the lab, I lifted the corner of the first sheet to find out who it was from. "Henry? Uh, hey John, you left some personal mail over here on the counter. What do you want me to do with it?"
"Uh, it's old mail."
"You just want me to throw it away then?"
"Uh, sure."
As soon as John turned his back, I refolded the letter and quickly slipped it into my back pocket. To be sure his ears hadn't picked up on the slight rustling of paper with my every move, I never took my gaze off his murky yellow dress shirt. When this proved tiresome, I glanced over at the clock. It was fifteen minutes to the hour and there was no use in concentrating on the data I'd been recording . I couldn't wait to read what Henry's letter had to say as soon as I could get out of the lab and into my car.
"John, one more thing."
"Uh, what's that?"
"Do you mind closing shop for me?" I knew he most likely detected the antsy sound in my voice. "I need to pick up some groceries for Sarah before I come home. That all right with you?"
"Yeah, sure."
"Thanks." My feet were already out the door hitting the pavement before he could change his mind. "I owe you one."
Rushing to the car, I fumbled with my keys to unlock it, then just as fast as I'd entered the vehicle, I slammed its door shut, leaving the tinted windows rolled up. I hastily unfolded the letter only to find myself saddened by its painful content.
Dear John,
It is with deep regret this letter comes to you. If I could wave a magic wand to change the circumstances of this nonexistent relationship, I would. Don't get me wrong, we've always loved each other, but it's never been and never will be the love I've always hoped for. No matter how hard I try, I reality is Helga will never see me as anybody but her best friend. Guess you were right, pal. Her heart only has room enough for one man. Obviously he's not me, so it's with a heavy heart I leave this cozy apartment here in N.Y.C. to take refuge back in Hillwood once again a single man. I'll probably stay in town for a few month, look a couple people then maybe travel cross country. I haven't planned anything out yet, but I'll be packed up and ready to roll in a few weeks. I'll look you up when I get back.
Henry
"Wow. So he's coming back soon. I wonder if..." Searching the letter over for a telephone number or at least an address, I'd finally made up my mind. If I really wanted to see Helga after all these years, I'd have to do some independent research. "Nope. No contact information anywhere on this letter and I bet John trashed the envelope at work. Wait a minute! I know! I can look his New York address up on my computer. Maybe I'll find a telephone number with it. Better yet, why don't I look up her name?"
Sarah seemed confused by the eager expression across my face as I flew through the door when I arrived home. She sat at the edge of the couch with one eyebrow cocked.
"Supper's on the table for ye if ye be hungry for it."
"Thanks. I'm starving. Listen, Sarah, if you don't mind I'm gonna take my dinner to the attic. I need to look up some information on the computer. Meet ya in the bedroom later tonight."
"But Arnold," she tried to protest albeit unsuccessfully, "you haven't been in the attic since-..."
"I know. I'll explain later." There was no need to turn from ascending the stairs. I already knew by here disconcerted voice she'd grown suspicious of my actions. Who was I kidding? It wouldn't be earth shattering news if she found out my intentions anyway.
Hours of searching both names on the internet led me nowhere. She didn't seem to exist in New York nor did he ever reside here in Hillwood. By the time I'd realized Sarah was in the attic with me I was to frazzled to notice.
"O'Connor, O'Connor! Why can't I find Henry O'Connor anywhere in the fifty states? What did he do, move to Canada?"
"For one thing," a distinct muffled accent called out from behind me, ""you be missing the apostrophe between the 'o' and the 'c' in O'Connor. You might also take into consideration that this letter I be holdin' in me hand is a wee bit old. Did you ever bother to look at the date posted on this thing? It's at least three years old."
"Huh?" I sprung from the work chair like a petrified cat. "Sarah? Man, you scared me. How long have you been up here?"
"Long enough. Arnold, if you wish to save yerself some time, why don't ye just ask John for Henry's telephone number? If it be his roommate yer lookin' for, why don't ye try typin' her name in, eh?"
"Um, Sarah? Are you —...?"
"If ye be thinking I'm angry with you, Sweetheart, the answer is no." She refolded John's letter neatly, wedging it between two fingers and handed it back to me. "We both knew five years ago when you asked me to stay here, neither of us was in it for the long haul. I always knew you'd go searching for Blondie one o' these days. I'm surprised it took ye this long. I almost thought-ah, never you mind."
"Never mind what? And how did you know that letter's three years old? I couldn't find a date on it anywhere."
"Ye must have been in an awful hurry, lad. It's barely noticeable, but it's there." She pointed to the upper right hand corner of the tightly folded square she'd just delivered. "Besides, what do ye need Henry's info for when you're looking for her? Like I said before, type her name in. Either that or call information."
"How am I supposed to read that?...And I already did," I sighed heavily.
"Arnold, listen," she sat down on the antiquated mechanical couch, its once vibrant red color now faded to a wild fuchsia, crossed one dainty leg over the other and examined the mood I was in by the sole means of my facial expression. Sarah had a knack for reading an individual's innermost thoughts. Our current situation proved no exception. "I don't want to sound cliche, but you and I have always anticipated this day, the day you would no longer need me in your life. I never asked you to. You've done more than enough for me, more than you perhaps should have, after all, I'm the one responsible for the loss of yer true love. In any case, it's time we both moved on. Give John a ring on the telly. When yer through, I'll be in the bedroom waitin' for ye. We've got a lot to talk about."
She lifted herself off the couch, gently squeezed my shoulder as she passed me by, then closed the door quietly. There was nothing left to do now but call John which would be no easy task.
"I might as well get this over with," I announced to the empty room while picking up the dusty receiver I hadn't used since I moved into Grandpa's and Grandma's bedroom. "If this doesn't work I can always try her old cell phone number. Wait a minute, I already did. Oh well, I might as well give this a try."
"Hello?" To my amazement, John picked up the phone on the first ring.
"Hey, John, it's me, Arnold. I was just wondering if you happened to ha-..."
"Henry's number?"
"Uh...yeah." His immediate response had me somewhat rattled. "I kinda picked up-..."
"My old mail."
"You're not mad I-..."
"Uh, nah. Just bring her home safely."
"Huh?"
"Henry's number."
Barely enduring that nerve wracking phone call and jotting Henry's number down, I dreaded heading to the bedroom to face the obvious. Sarah was right. We couldn't keep deceiving ourselves any longer. Descending the stairs, the fear of never finding Helga crossed my mind and I thought if I let Sarah go, I'd find myself alone again.
"No, I can't keep her here," I argued with myself out loud. "That wouldn't be fair to her."
As I opened the door, Sarah lifted her eyes from the paperwork she'd been tending to, serving me an illuminating smile. Soft red curls tumbled down past here shoulders, stopping just shy of the scoop neck sleeveless cotton pajama top she wore slightly above its matching bottoms. The outfit was her favorite and I never minded when she allowed its soft fabric nuzzle my skin. The fire in her emerald eyes flickered as she firmly patted the bed, beckoning me to her side.
"Hey," I obeyed her command, leaning up against that cozy night time attire she felt so comfortable in.
"Did ye find what ye be lookin' for, Sweetheart?"
"Yeah," I swallowed despite the burning sensation developing in the back of my throat. "Sort of."
"Henry's telly, eh?" Her discerning eyes penetrated mine to the point I thought I might hyperventilate or even discharge the contents of the dinner she'd cooked for me. She tried to calm me down by brushing her fingers in a circular motion lightly over my back. "Relax, Arnold. It's all right."
"No. No, it's not all right, Sarah. It's not fair to you."
"Arnold," the petite girl rose to her knees, turning my head and cupping my chin in both hands. "It is all right. I was lonely. You were lonely. I took advantage of you. What be fair about that, lad? I was yer arch nemesis in high school. What type o' fool turns around and asks his arch nemesis to live with him, eh?"
"I can think of a similar situation. Besides, that was the past, Sarah, and you've changed so much since then. You've become a fine woman I've-..." I stopped short of saying 'grown rather fond of', rerouting my thoughts in an alternative direction. "I think any man would be lucky to have."
"Why, thank ye so much, Arnold." Her pleading eyes seemed haunted by a banshee, yet she carried on the conversation. "I thought maybe I reminded you of another girl. I used to think I reminded you of that kind hearted lass who used to volunteer down at the rehab center. I remember how fond of her ye used to be. What's happened there? She think she be too good for ye, eh?"
"Nah, it's nothing like that. You might say I kinda outgrew her." I took her hands in mine and as frightening as they were, I concentrated deeply on her eyes. "Funny as it might sound to you, you never reminded me of Lila. You don't have her mild mannered nature. Your perseverance actually reminds me of He-of someone else I used to know."
"I see," Sarah hung her head low, her posterior dropping onto her heels. When she finally lifted her eyes, the rims of those haunted orbs were filled with tears. "Arnold, I just be-..."
"Shh," I silenced her by pressing her quivering lips with a gentle finger. A tiny fragment of my heart begged her not to leave. "You can stay here as long as you need to. Don't rush off on my account, especially if you don't have a place lined up yet."
Although she never replied, her peaceful smile let me know she appreciated my concern for her well being. I stared into the tiny redhead's forest green eyes for some time, wondering how a young girl who used to be so conniving, so manipulative and so ruthless could grow into an emotionally vulnerable woman. Maybe it was the longing for affection I hadn't had in years ro maybe it was the pity I felt for her, but I couldn't help brushing my lips softly against Sarah's. Surprisingly, it felt nothing like the forced kiss she administered so long ago. This kiss felt great, so good in fact that I had no desire to stop and she didn't hold me back either. I wanted to give this lonely soul a night to remember, a night never to be discussed by me with anyone. The next morning she was gone. Not a trace of her presence was left except for the faint scent of her floral perfume and a brief note she'd laid on the night stand.
Arnold,
Thanks for releasing me, lad. I shall remember you always. Goodbye Sweetheart.
Your truly,
Sarah XX
I found myself somewhat surprised by the sting I felt from her sudden departure, but she was right. It was time to move on, and now that this segment of my life was over, it was time to call Henry.
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"Arnold? Hey Arnold, you drifted off there for a moment. So, Sarah left the night you got Henry's number? Go on."
Some stories in this life were better left untold. Sarah would have been pleased.
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AN: My greatest appreciation for those who take the time to critique this fic.