A/n: please excuse any spelling/grammatical errors.

Chapter Four: Don't Speak

The day was cool, being the beginning of January. School had started again to the students' dismay. Nothing was normal anymore. So many things have changed. Gerald and Pheobe were no longer the cutest couple in school, Arnold was no longer his happy-go-lucky self, and Helga – well – Helga wrote angry notes in her binder.

Arnold went through his days very wearily. Grandma, he found out, had a stroke. She was old and very tired, and doctors wanted to keep her in the hospital longer.

"Hey. Helga," he said after school, when he was finally able to catch up to Helga in the busy school day.

Helga stopped and turned around, not being able to look him in the eye. She had not done anything bad. She just couldn't bare to see the pain that dwelled in his eyes. His sadness made her grieve in pain. His emotions were transposed to her own soul .

"Hi Arnold."

"I just wanted to say thanks. I never found the chance to say it. But, thanks." He met his eyes with hers. She looked away, unable to see the dark bags surrounding his eyes, or the redness which colored the white. "So, here." He handed her a small box. "I was going to give it to you earlier."

She opened the box. Inside there was a folded up note that said Merry Christmas. She took it out and saw a pink and purple crystal bracelet.

"Oh gee," said Helga. "This is very nice of you. Thanks."

There was an awkward silence and finally Arnold said something. "I guess I'll see you later."

"Yeah…yeah," Helga uttered. "I guess so."

Arnold walked away and Helga stayed in her same place, standing, staring off into nothing. Then she realized Phoebe standing next to her.

"Hi Helga," muttered Phoebe. "I'm glad I finally caught you."

"Hi Phebes," Helga replied. "I haven't seen you in a while. How's your first day of school?"

"It's not too great, actually. And you?"

Helga just shrugged. "It was…flat."

Gerald walked by and chills ran down Phoebe's spine. He stopped for a minute and greeted the two girls. "Hi Helga," he said. "Hi Phoebe," he croaked. It was different to just see her in the hall and not take her hand. He missed it when he could jump up behind her and kiss her cheek. What a fool he was.

"Er, I think I should go," murmered Phoebe. "I promised my mom that I would help her clean out the garage." Quickly, she walked away, fully avoiding Gerald.

When she left his eyesight he gave a large sigh. "What am I going to do, Helga?"

"Are you asking me for advice?" she asked in disbelief. "Because, you know that I am not good with advice. I can't give you advice…I can't even give myself advice."

"Yeah, but," he began.

"No!" She put her palm in front of his face. "Don't even ask me for advice. I don't do that. If you want advice, go to Arnold."

"But…"

"I'm not listening!" Helga said loudly, walking away from Gerald.

"Hi Helga!" shouted an enthusiastic voice from the kitchen.

"Hello Miriam," mumbled Helga. She dropped her backpack on the floor and walked miserably to the kitchen.

"You don't look too hot," she said with sympathy. "Want a smoothie?"

"No. Thanks." She glanced at Miriam who had on make up. Make up! To think, this usually drunken, drowsy woman suddenly turned into some strange woman who happily made nonalcoholic smoothies and put on Maybelline lipstick.

Helga looked her up and down. "What are you all dressed up for?"

Miriam smiled happily and shrugged. "No particular reason, hon. I just want to feel good." She jumped out of her chair and glanced at the clock on the wall.

"You're going out again, aren't you?"

"Oh, don't be such a prude about it, Helga." She walked up to her daugher and pinched her cheeks. "You should be happier." And she squeezed Helga's cheeks together.

Helga crossed her arms across her chest. She wanted to bust the news on Miriam. All she wanted was to tell her, "Miriam. I know you're up to something…I saw you with some guy. TELL ME WHAT'S GOING ON!" It was burning inside, she was itching to say something. But then suddenly the bell rang.

"I'll get it!" Miriam chirped.

Helga raised her eyebrow.

"Oh my God!" Miriam exclaimed. Helga quickly walked out of the kitchen to the hallway and saw Miriam holding a large bouquet of red roses. "These are gorgeous."

"Who did you get them from?" Helga asked casually.

"I think I've got a good idea," she said, inhaling the aroma of the flowers. She found a card in the middle of the roses and took it out. After reading it, she held it against her chest and grinned.

"So…who's it from?" Helga asked again.

"An old friend of mine. She's in town and wanted to thank me for letting her use our bathroom one day." Miriam smiled.

"Sure, Miriam. Well, aren't you going to put them in some water? In a nice vase?"

"Yes, I think I will. I'll put them in the kitchen."

"Why not in the living room?"

"Just because, darling. Just because."

Helga knew why. Big Bob wasn't always the sharpest tool in the shed. Though, Helga would bet a hundred dollars that if he saw those roses, he would get suspicious. Then he would ask Miriam. Miriam would lie. Then he would ask Helga. Helga certainly couldn't tell him anything. Then, of course, he'd get frustrated and yell.

Helga followed Miriam into the kitchen. She had already put the flowers into a nice glass vase and was smelling and touching them again. Helga sighed. She liked seeing Miriam happy. But, she hated the fact that Miriam was seeing someone other than her father on holidays and Saturday nights.

"Miriam," said Helga.

"Mmh?"

"I think I know what's going on with you." Helga crossed her arms across her chest.

"What do you mean?" she laughed. "Nothing's going on with me."

"I saw. I saw you in that red car with a man with blond hair."

Miriam stopped her movements and stood up straight. "I don't know what you're talking about, Helga."

"Don't deny it. I saw you. I saw you."

"He's just a friend…there's nothing…"

"MOM! You know what you're saying is a lie! I know it, you know it. So why don't you just cut the crap? Tell me the truth." Helga looked at her mother very urgently.

"The truth is…" she began.

"MIRIAM!" a loud voice shouted.

"Here, B!" She called back.

In came Bob with a sad puppy smile. "Ya know, I've been thinking, Miriam. And I realized that lately we've been as good to each other as dogs and cats. I just wanted to officially apologize. I do care." Then from behind his back he presented her with a single red rose.

"Oh wow," Miriam said, quite flattered. "That's very sweet."

Then he caught glimpse of the dozen red roses already in a vase on the counter. Helga recognized the pain he felt suddenly. She didn't know if he knew or not; but she didn't want to ask.

"Nice roses ya got there," Bob gulped. "Where the hell did you get them?"

"Actually," interjected Helga, "they're mine. Arnold gave them to me."

"Oh." He said, a little relieved. The whiteness of Miriam's face drained.

"Yep. They're pretty, aren't they? Well, I have to go do homework now." Helga ran off.

Arnold sat solemnly next to his grandmother. He couldn't bear to look at the tubes going through her body. It sent deadly chills down his spine. He just wanted to hit a wall or yell into a pillow.

Grandpa came in and tapped Arnold on the shoulder. "Hey shortman, I brought you some food to eat. It's not bad, actually, this cafeteria food. I got you juice, a hot dog…"

"No thanks, Grandpa," said Arnold. "I'm not hungry."

"Well, more for me then. I guess."

Grandpa released a heavy sigh and put the tray of food on a table and pulled a chair up next to Arnold. "Don't worry so much, Arnold. You'll get wrinkles. Then you'll end up looking like me, and no girl will like you besides your grandma."

Arnold refused to laugh. He just looked away. "How can you joke? Aren't you in pain right now?"

Grandpa nodded. "Of course I am. But we can't sulk forever. The doc said she's getting better. Soon she'll be up and chasing cats again."

"What're going to happen to your tickets to Rome?"

"I'm just going to keep them."

"But what about Grandma?"

"She's a strong one. She'll probably be able to have fun and frolick by then." He looked at his poor grandson, still doubting the words he just said. He put his hand on Arnold's shoulder and rubbed it hardily. "Trust me. Now you stop worrying and get on home. Stop coming here. Go drink and eat greasy foods with your friends."

Arnold released a heavy sigh. "I guess I should."

"I mean, honestly. You've the darkest bags under your eyes. I never knew they could be so dark," Grandpa joked. "Now go on and get."

Arnold got up and saluted Grandpa, with his backpack hanging from his right shoulder. He walked out to the sound of his baggy jeans rustling together. He groaned to see so many families walking to see their sick friends and family.

While Arnold walked home, he dragged his feet on the ground. He held his coat closer to his body and shivered. The melting snow soaked the bottom of his pants, and he wished that he didn't decide to walk everywhere. He walked towards Helga's house. He stopped in front of her door steps and looked up.

Then boldly decided to walk up to the door and ring the doorbell. Why? He wasn't really sure.

"Arnold?"

"Hi Helga," Arnold said quite casually. He was very surprised with himself.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was just around the neighborhood, and I thought, well, actually I thought of nothing. But, what I was trying to say is that I just wanted to…" he murmered.

"Right. I'll just pretend I know exactly what you mean."

There was an awkward silence.

"So," Helga's words slurred together, "would you like to come in?"

Without any hesitation, Arnold said, "Yes."

Helga stepped aside, and Arnold walked inside her house, remembering to wipe off his feet on the door mat. He unraveled his scarf around his neck and tossed it on the coat rack. He decided to keep his coat on for security.

"You want to have some hot chocolate or something?"

"Sure. I'd like that."

He followed her into the kitchen where they bumped saw Big Bob fixing himself a sandwich. Helga went through the fridge and took out some milk and then went through the cupboard and looked for the hot chocolate mix. Arnold stood in his place quietly and felt a need to say something. He cleared his throat.

"Hello Mr. Pataki."

Bob grunted and looked up, unaware that anyone else was in the same room as him. "Who are you?"

"It's Arnold, Bob." Helga sighed.

"Oh. The guy with the flowers…" Bob glanced at the vase of roses on the counter.

Helga took the hot milk out of the microwave in shock. She had forgotten about her little white lie about the roses. Please don't say anything, please don't say anything, she prayed silently to herself as she quickly poured in the mix and stirred.

"The flowers…?" Arnold repeated.

Before Bob could say anything, Helga interrupted. "Oh Arnold, don't be silly. You remember. The flowers! The roses…remember?" she chuckled softly, handing him his hot chocolate.

"Oh. Yes, of course. Those roses."

"Okay, well, let's go." She took his wrist in her hand and darted up the stairs.

In they went into her bedroom and she closed the door behind her.

"What's this all about, Helga?" Arnold asked, concerned. He took a sip of his hot chocolate and opened his mouth, waving his hand in front of his mouth.

Helga paced around her room with her hands on her waist. "Nothing. Nothing at all."

Arnold shrugged and took another sip.

"FINE! It is something, Arnold." She threw her arms up in the air. "Miriam is cheating on Bob!"

Arnold nearly choked on his hot chocolate.

"Yeah, yeah! That's right. She is! I saw her…with this young blond Latin guy."

"Wait, wait, wait. Maybe you were mistaken, Helga. I mean, there are lots of blond guys."

"No," she said coldly, "I saw her kiss him." She looked away to the side and held her hand to her mouth.

Arnold put his drink down on her night stand and walked towards Helga. He put his hand on her shoulder and sighed with her.

"I never thought that I'd care so much about the family," Helga slightly chuckled. "I mean, really, I could care less. But, this just makes everything so sad. I mean, Miriam is weirder than ever and she's going out all the time. That's why I spent New Year's with you, Arnold. She's screwing everything up. I'm surprised Bob is too oblivious to even think she's up to something."

"It will be okay Helga," Arnold reassured her.

"I sure hope so." She let out a deep breath. "Don't think you're going to see me cry again, Football Head."

He laughed and suddenly kissed her on the top of her head. "I should get going."

Helga stood there, frozen. She nodded. "Help yourself out…" Just as Arnold was heading out of her bedroom, she asked, "er…Arnold, how's your grandma doing?"

"She's still hangin' in there. Thanks for the concern." He looked down, and pushed the door open. "Bye."

After she heard Arnold's footsteps go downstairs, she fell back on her bed. Deep breath in, deep breath out. In and out. She closed her eyes and thought about something pleasant. Mmmh…she imagined herself at a nice beach on a warm summer's day. She and Arnold together, sitting, making a sandcastle. Ah, good times.

"Hello Helga," said Miriam. Helga angrily opened her eyes and raised an eyebrow. "We need to talk," she smiled softly and sat down next to her daughter.

"No we don't."

"See, that man you may think I'm having an 'affair' with isn't who you think it is…"

"I know what I know, Miriam, and I know that you're seeing someone on the side."

"No, no, Helga. It's not like that. He's…he's simply my mother's cousin's daughter's step brother. I was merely being nice to him." She smiled, trying to play with Helga's hair.

Helga slapped Miriam's hand away. "Shut up. I'm not a little girl anymore. I know what's what. Just leave me alone." Helga rolled to lay on her left side, her back facing Miriam. "You can leave now. Don't worry, I won't tell Bob."

Miriam gulped and got up. "Well. I'll see you for dinner, then." She left the room.

A/N: Please r/r J