(Six Months Later)
The aroma of seafood quiche permeated the house as Helga opened the oven. A small chuckle escapes her as she looks at the top of the pie's crust where the letters R.W.L. boldly sit (having been constructed from spare pieces of dough) clearly telling one and all by whose benevolence this dinner came from.
"Humble pie this clearly isn't." She says to herself leaving dinner to cool on the stovetop.
Helga still counted herself lucky. Even if Rhonda most likely had a personal chef cook it, she and other childhood friends of theirs had really stepped up to the plate when it came to making ready-to-cook meals once news of her pregnancy became common knowledge. As dinner cooled down, Helga rifled through the refrigerator for something to drink before sitting down for the day.
"Plains and Pantry Organic Fat Free Chocolate Almond Milk." She mutters with disgust. "Welp, better than nothing."
Though it had a month left before expiring, Helga shotguns the bottle's contents like a baller with a bottle of top shelf liquor before hurling it across the kitchen where it lands at the bottom of the recycling bin. She was thirsty, but the voraciousness with which she guzzled it stemmed more from unpleasant memories of previous tenants.
[Flashback: Three and a half months prior]
"Were these unborn chickens at least ethically sourced?"
Wyeth and London Davis had to be the most loathsome people to set foot in Sunset Arms (and yes, that includes Oscar).
From the minute they moved in here, the two of them proceeded to not only turn our lives upside down but possessed the nerve to give us lectures so sanctimonious about our environmental impact that even my morally driven husband found himself rolling his eyes.
But who could blame these sentient hipster themed wedding cake toppers for acting as they did?
They and their friends came from families of means, moved out in some weak attempt to frighten and rebel against the parents who spoiled them (confident enough that said parents would still fork over whatever it took to keep them safe in the big bad 'hood), and proceeded to mold Hillwood into whatever gentrified bourgeois bohemian hellscape they desired.
And if Arnold and I (by virtue of being landlords of the room they rented) made the rules, who the hell were we as far as they were concerned to give any pushback to being lectured by them?
Making this dynamic even more degrading was that when push came to shove, they had money…or at least London's dad did, and when they remembered to (personally) pay their rent, it made these haughty lectures on the wonders of veganism worth it.
But this was not one of those mornings.
"I'm sorry?" I reply straining to keep the smile glued on her face.
"Well, if I must descend into the barbaric ignominy of consuming unborn baby chickens, I would like to know if they at least came from a cruelty free farm." The young lady replied. "Then again I wouldn't expect some soulless conglomerate like ShopWell to grasp the idea of being socially reasonable."
"Then I'm sure you'll be happy to know we started shopping at Plains and Pantry." I said through gritted teeth. "We even picked up some vegan cream cheese to go with tonight's dessert."
"My wife and I have no use for those eco-posers or their corporate cream cheese of evil." Wyeth said looking up from his phone. "Don't worry London, we'll pick something up at the Yogurt Yurt before your interview at the Art Museum-"
"-which I do hope pans out." I interject icily. "Because it seems fascinating how you have money to burn at Yogurt Yurt while still wailing about how broke you are for rent-"
"UGH! FINE BOOMER!" London screeches while the two of them storm out the door. "I'll just call daddy and he'll wire the amount to you. Get out of my ass!"
(Present)
Helga shudders at the memory, giving her head a violent shake. There was no use wasting brain cells on the Davis' anymore as they had been asked to leave Sunset Arms later that night after Eleanor asked about their 'rainbow flowerpot that smelled bad'.
With a glance at the clock, it slowly occurs to her how this was the first sense of tranquility this house has experienced in a while…and probably would experience for a long time. On top of Arnold, Eleanor and their yet to be born child. two young men from the Saint Martin's University inquiring about renting rooms within a fortnight of the Davis' departure. Sure, there were nights like tonight where their daughter could have a sleepover at Gerald and Phoebe's house with their twin daughters Kiki and Kiara, but pawning Eleanor off on the Johannsen's wasn't fair to them.
After a minute, the silence went from relaxing to creepy real fast and Helga grabbed her phone.
"Hello Helga."
"Hey. Just checking to see how Eleanor's sleepover is going with the girls is going."
"Oh Helga. You don't need to worry. She's behaving herself perfectly. In fact, Gerald just came back from Sub King with dinner and…aw…they're playing dress up. Let me text you a picture."
Helga's phone pings as a picture of Eleanor, Kiki, and Kiara as princesses enters the chat. On the surface, the three girls decked out in Kimonos and costume jewelry seemed a wholesome tableau of sleepover shenanigans, but one accoutrement catches the Shortman mother's eye and tense up.
[Flashback: Five Months prior]
"So, Eleanor, the teacher said you found something interesting at recess today?"
Try as she might, my daughter didn't have it in her to lie. With a sigh, the girl reaches into her pocket and surrenders her treasure: a gaudy pendant necklace, upon which hung a heart shaped pink rhinestone charm inside which contained the letters "E" and "S" in black rhinestones.
"I saw it on the other side of the fence…" She began with a hint of guilt in her voice. "And when I saw I could fit through the hole…"
"You went for it." I continued sternly. "And in doing so, you left school property and gave the teachers more than a bit of a scare."
"But it was so pretty and shiny." Eleanor began in some attempt to rationalize her actions.
"And I'm sure it's rightful owner would agree with your assessment. And before you and I have a long talk about wandering off, we are going to the police station to report what we found in hopes that its rightful owner can claim it."
"And you would assume correctly little girl."
The two of us slowly turn around, finding ourselves slowly coming face to face with a sheepish and leopard cladded lady of the evening standing at the foot of the metal bus stop pole. Immediately I recognized her from that walk to Eleanor's school when I found out I was pregnant; last seeing this particular woman cleaning her hand while awaiting the downtown bus with other street walkers, presumably en route to service another client. I pull my daughter close as the lady introduces herself as Corpus X-tyna who (glumly seems to understand my conduct in her presence.
"I don't blame you for holding your daughter close to you, I too am a mother…I got a daughter about your age named Emily and a son who's almost a year-old named Steve. And would do anything to give them a good life…(she chuckles sadly)…which ironically got me here. Judge me all you want, but when life gets tough, you gotta do what you gotta do to ensure your family's survival; food, a roof and everything in between."
"Why don'cha just live with us?" Eleanor asked. "You, Emily, and Steve. I know Mommy put up a 'for rent' sign in the win-"
Before she could finish her sentence, my hand clamps over her mouth with all the speed of a hawk grabbing its meal. But rather than take my daughter on her guileless offer for board, Corpus X-tyna chuckles sadly and shakes her head.
"You touch me with your offer, but that necklace you have little girl? I tossed it away for a reason; to leave this part of my life and this city in the rearview mirror…(from the corner of her eye, the bawd sees the bus slowly pulling close)…which begins as soon as that bus comes to a stop."
Sure enough, the bus halts; hissing and beeping as it lowers itself closer to the curb for the handicapped passengers to exit with ease, and this becomes the last we see of Corpus X-tyna. For the next week, I try to get Eleanor to part with her treasure, but her attention span seems to have grown considerably in the time since I first found myself expecting again…and with resigned acceptance and an economy size bottle of sanitizer, I finally give ground and let her keep the damn thing.
(Present)
Her body aching and tired from the day, and with a brief window of respite, Helga quickly texts Phoebe how cute it is that her daughter is enjoying the night with her friends before letting out a deep sigh and putting her feet up for the present moment.
(Elsewhere in the house)
As soon as Dr. Shortman's final session came to a close, the smell of dinner began to creep up the stairs and past the threshold of the bedroom he and his wife shared (which as of late had become his home office as he met with clients via online video chats).
Descending the steps and entering the kitchen, a twinge of guilt ebbs through his body upon drinking in the sight of his wife as she sprawls out by the table. Tomorrow would begin the third trimester of her pregnancy and already the fatigue and shortness of breath had begun. Her face breaks into a satisfied smile as he takes the seat next to her and begins to massage her feet.
"If you think that's penance enough for not helping me with dinner, think again. You're batting cleanup."
"I know, I'm sorry Helga." He began. "My last client had a bad day…and tomorrow is the office."
Helga groaned.
"Don't you think this is all too much though?" She asked. "I mean, I saw in the paper this cute little house up in Tono-"
"Sweetheart…" Arnold began in an uncharacteristically furious tone.
"You're right…I'm sorry Arnold…"
Regret quickly seized Arnold as he watched his passionate and fiery wife's demeanor and frame shrink with shame over what had come out of her mouth. Images of his volatile father-in-law Big Bob, and the stubbornness he had displayed trying to hold onto an important part of his life danced about his psyche as the full weight of his outburst's ramifications hit him like a speeding truck. On the other hand, it wasn't like Arnold was warming his nether regions as the world fell apart around him; he happily picked up as much slack as he could as far as house maintenance was concerned, and conducted a large slice of his sessions over the computer (going to his office on Tuesdays, Wednesdays and every other Friday). Nevertheless, he plants a contrite kiss on his wife's forehead and pours her a glass of water before going to set the table.
"So, when should we expect those two young men from St. Martin's to be joining us?"
"Oh, Chris and Tyler?" Helga asked. "I know Tyler has an ASL class that ends at 6:30 so they told us to just start without-"
Cutting Helga off was the sound of the door opening and the sight of two strapping and youthful men passing through the threshold.
"Hey Mr. and Mrs. S." One of them said. "It turned out that our teacher got caught in traffic and gave us leave from tonight's session."
"Oh…well, I hope you're hungry for quiche tonight." Helga said placing the now cooled egg pie on the center of the table.
Arnold can't help but smile as the two boys seated themselves at the table, gleeful over the meal which had been prepared for them. He hated how hard he put his foot down after Melchior made his offer about taking Sunset Arms off his hands, and knew the hard road he and Helga had ahead of them in raising a family while simultaneously keeping the boarding house that served as his family home as the neighborhood continued to have no idea what to do with itself. Nonetheless, a nostalgic feeling envelopes him as their boarders help themselves to dinner; seeing himself and Gerald once upon a time in Chris and Tyler. Two clean cut young men with good heads on their shoulders making their way in the world.
Bursting Arnold from this bubble were a series of forceful knocks and three words that would make anyone deathly nervous:
"POLICE OPEN UP!"