Adulthood is never easy, especially when you encounter your own special personal candy poison after fourteen years of forgetting about it.
FieryFrost
Candy...
Helga twirled the cord of her phone around her finger aimlessly. "Yeah Pheebs. I just need a break."
"Really, now. What gave you your first clue? All those book signings, the many award shows, the parties, the fashion shows, or the constant transatlantic travel?"
"Hmmm, I'd like to go with all of the above."
"When are you going to settle down woman, you're thirty-two– Oh, Gerald says hi... so does Arianna... and so does Zach."
"Tell your husband and my niece and nephew that I said hi."
Helga could hear Phoebe relay her message to the Johanssen's. "Well... I'm still waiting for a smarmy comment about the marriage part."
Helga smirked. "I don't need to say anything because you and I both know that there is not a man alive slash and or available to tame me. I would never allow myself to be tamed either! Not all woman marry their highschool sweetheart at the tender age of twenty-one and starts popping out babies two years later."
"Whatever Miss. Pataki... or should I say Miss. H.G. Pataki? Winner of so many novel awards that I have lost count. Giving woman around the world advice about life, love, sex, relationships, men, and all that ties them together. Only fields you're missing are marriage and motherhood."
Helga rolled her eyes. "I will never marry! I will live out my bachelorette hood properly and will not be a spinster as men get to be bachelors and players."
"Of course Helga, is this from what your weekly article in the magazines or from a book you're writing?"
"Neither, but I will be adding it to my new novel, now that I think about it... anyway, while I'm back in dear ol' Hillwood, New Jersey you will not set me up on any blind dates or we clear Phoebe Gin Heyerdahl Johanssen?"
"Crystal."
"I don't want to be at a diner overflowing with teens enjoying the last stretch of their summer. Clear?"
"I said crystal already."
"I'm just making sure."
"Well," Phoebe paused for a moment to snicker. "I've got to go. It seems like Zacharie has conveniently missed the toliet and found Gerald– again. Call me when you land in Newark."
"No problem love, bye."
"Bye love."
Helga hung up her phone and rolled herself out of bed before grabbing her silk robe off of her amour. It was two o'clock in the afternoon in France and eight o'clock in dear old Hillwood, New Jersey. Today was Arianna Johanssen's ninth birthday and there was no way that Helga would miss wishing her niece a happy birthday– even if it meant she did not get to sleep late on her Wednesday.
Helga, who went by the name of H.G. now, opened the curtains of the balcony door that lead to a fantastic view of the Eiffel Tower. She was thirty-two woman and was not married like her very best friend and almost sister Phoebe reminded her– and she had no qualms with it.
Phoebe and Gerald got married in college when he was twenty-two and she was twenty-one– Helga was the maid of honor and Arnold Linshaw was the best man, of course. Phoebe and Gerald were happily living together in Hillwood with their large house, running a five star restaurant in the city together, with two wonderful children... but Helga could never and would never see herself ever, ever walking down an aisle in a white, not unless she was delusional or exceptionally drunk in Las Vegas, Nevada. But if it was Las Vegas, she would have to be wearing red, definitely red.
No, Helga "H.G." was going to be a bachelorette for life giving advise to bachelorettes and married women around the world– and she was perfectly happy with that.
Her only problem was that she was suffering from a writer's fatigue, she just could not bring herself to write. She had millions of millions ideas milling around her head– which was why she did not have a writer's block– but she just did not feel like writing at all.
She told her complaints to Phoebe, one out the two people she kept in touch with from Crinshaw highschool– the other being Gerald, and Phoebe suggested a visit to her old home town. A place she had not been to since Bob decided to expand Big Bob's Beepers, with the smart business thinking of Miriam, and renamed his company Empire. A fitting name for the company that soon expanded into even more companies and trades. That was five years ago, when she twenty-nine. Helga sighed before picking up her phone once more and dialing a number. "Hello, Rich... I think I'm going to disappear for a little while..."
)FF(
Phoebe had just finished taking out the snacks when the first of her guests had arrived. Rhonda Lloyd Wellington Berman walked in with her husband, Harold Berman, in tow with their four year old daughter in his arm and their nine-year old fraternal twins sulking behind them.
"Hello Phoebe." Rhonda said giving the house decorations a cursory glance. "I love what you did with the place." She walked past Phoebe into the kitchen.
Phoebe raised an eyebrow. "Yea, since it looks the same as it did the last time you came here, two days ago."
"No, but you moved that vase from the table to the corner, it looks much better there... trust me!"
"And only you could notice such a little change, Rhonda."
"Yea, and that's why my wife is an interior designer." Harold said with a pride in his voice as he put Eva, his and Rhonda's four year old daughter, down.
"And my husband runs a butcher shop which was once Mr. Greene's and is even better than it was in Mr. Greene's day."
Phoebe calmly rolled her eyes and maturely stuck her tongue out at them. "Hi Blair and Blaise," Phoebe said to the nine year old boy and girl, Blaise and Blair. "Arianna is upstairs in the room, you two can go up and play if two want."
The twins gave their signature duplicate smiles before they ran up the stairs, almost knocking Gerald, who had been walking down the stairs.
Gerald caught his balance before standing next to Phoebe and wrapping an arm around her waist. "Wow, things can sure change in fourteen years." He kissed Phoebe's cheek before he gave Harold and Rhonda a smirk. "I'm glad certain things don't change."
Harold returned Gerald's smirk. "I know what you mean."
Phoebe and Rhonda slapped their respective husbands on their arms lightly, but neither men took the smirks off their face.
"Aww, forgive me Phoebe, but I'm so glad you thought of having a joint party for Ari's birthday and a reunion party. You are such a genius."
"I know I am, but I just have to wonder why I married you, if I am so smart."
Gerald's smirk became larger. "I know why... and so do you. I'll remind you sometime later."
Phoebe opened her mouth to say something, but then the doorbell rang and she went to let in more of her guest.
)FF(
It was two in the afternoon and the grill outside had yet to be started, but it seemed that almost all the P.S. 118/ Crinshaw Highschool group was at the Johanssen household.
Sid, who worked as a doctor at the local hospital, sat in the corner whispering his fiancé, who he had just proposed to yesterday. His fiancé, Miranda, cracked some jokes saying it took him about nine years to finally work up the nerve to propose to her.
Sheena worked as Compliance officer of the Bank of New York, while her husband, Eugene worked with small plays. The two sat talking to each other quietly as Nadine fed their one year old baby girl, Gene.
Stinky was playing for the New Jersey Nets after finally becoming a free agent. He talked to Harold about how good traveling could make people feel better.
Of course there was Phoebe and Gerald, who ran a restaurant named The Butterfly in Manhattan. A restaurant that Zagat's Survey called "absolutely refreshing with an edgy class, great food, wonderful service, and a wonderful decor" on it's grand opening.
Arnold Linshaw talked to Gerald about baseball. He had stayed in Hillwood and became an Art and English teacher at Crinshaw highschool– and coincidentally it seemed that more girls were joining Art classes since he began working at the highschool six years ago. His on and off again girlfriend, Lila Sawyer, was a kindergartner teacher at P.S. 118.
The only few that were missing was Sheena Smithe, who was in India practicing Buddhism, Thaddeus "Curly" Gammelthorpe, who was a world renowned business man, and Helga "H.G' Pataki, who everyone read about in newspapers, read her books and articles, saw on t.v., and heard gossip about constantly, was not there. And whenever Phoebe was asked about Helga, she only replied, "She's in France." and that was that.
The side gate was opened and Gerald had just dragged out the coal from the garage, when a Rolls Royce pulled up to the side of the house. Everyone, except for a select few, stared at the dark candy red car in shock. Almost instantly Arianna and Zach ran out the gate and towards the car. A sleek red stiletto pump appeared from the car before a curly blonde haired head exited the car. The two children launched themselves at the woman and the woman's dark crimson lips turned upwards in a smile. She pulled a red pocketbook from out of her car and closed the door with Arianna attached to her right leg of her dark denim jeans and Zach attached to her left leg.
The woman laughed as she walked into the backyard. "I come bearing gifts but they're in my car."
Arianna perked up. "I go get them, Auntie Helga."
Everyone but Phoebe's, Gerald's, and Arnold's mouth dropped in shock.
Helga haded Arianna the keys to her car and watched she toddled off to open the trunk with her brother– who had just detached himself from Helga's leg– trailing behind her.
"Hi all."
"Hey." Came the reply from Phoebe and Gerald.
Seeing Helga on t.v., in magazines, and in newspapers, was definitely different than seeing the woman standing in front of them– after fourteen years as remembering her as a social outcast in highschool, then seeing her wearing stylish clothes.
"You know, if you stare any harder you might get x-ray vision and see through my clothes and see right to my lingerie." Helga drawled sarcastically. It was then that it was the same old Helga, maybe just a little older with a different wrapper.
"Hi, love the Jimmy Choo's Helga, or should I say H.G.." Rhonda said being one of the first to greet the new Helga Pataki.
Helga's blue eyes rested on Rhonda before she smiled. "Thanks and H.G. will be just fine Rhonda."
Phoebe engulfed the taller woman in a hug and Helga laughed. "Gee, if I had known I would of had such a great reception I would have come late at night."
"The reception would be much worse Pataki, I would be enjoying the company of wife at that time."
"Oh, so you can still get it up in your old age, how wonderful!"
Phoebe let go of Helga before Gerald swept her into a hug. "Keep joking like that and we'll see exactly where you will be residing on your vacation in Hillwood."
Helga smirked. "Then you'd be taking to Phoebe about which couch you would residing on during my vacation in Hillwood."
"Vacation?" Eugene asked raising one red eyebrow.
"Oh, yea I'll be here in town for a little while. Just to escape the camera's and rest a little."
"Oh."
Helga smiled. "So you haven't started the grill yet Johanssen?"
"Nope, I was waiting for you Pataki."
"Alright, then get me an apron, the meat, and some of Phoebe's special barbeque sauce."
"No problem." Gerald gave Helga a small pat on the back before he began to walk to the backdoor of the house. Arianna and Zach returned from Helga's bag dragging two suitcases that both were double their sizes and Helga could not help but laugh again.
"There are more bags in the car Auntie Helga." Zach managed to say in very breathy voice.
"I didn't mean for you to get my suitcases. I can see that I will have a lot of fun here in Hillwood, especially with you two around to make me laugh," Helga said bending down and scooping the siblings into a hug. "I'm glad. Now I'm going to get your presents."
Arianna handed Helga the key and as Helga began to rise from the floor her eyes met with a very familiar pair of sky blue eyes.
Arnold looked– or rather stared– at Helga, recalling the past with a smile on the face. There she is, Arnold thought, my very own poisoned candy...
)FF(
Nope, I don't own Hey Arnold! or anything else you recognize. I know this chapter might be a little boring, but it will pick up in the next chapter... it will pick up alright... hehehe.
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S.L. Cipher(Who will gladly accept all criticisms, advice, reviews, praises, and flames with a large Cheshire Cat like smile just because Cheshire Cat like smiles can piss people off and Cipher loves pissing people off because it is exceptional fun)