Disclaimer: I don't own Hey Arnold, or anything else that I've mentioned.
Full Summary:: What was the saying? Good fences make great neighbors? Helga thinks she may come to regret her home purchase when she sets her eyes on the neighbor behind her. Or maybe just wish the fence was a lot taller...or shorter. She'd yet to decide.
A/N: I'm so sorry for the long stretch between updates. Life, ya know? Kids, ya know? Work, ya know?
JayDogg187: All I can say (without giving too much away) is that Arnold's life hasn't been what it seems and Helga's relationship with her ex-husband will become pretty important later on.
Moonlight1640: Aww, thank you! I'm glad you have enjoyed it so far.
Wysteria Fox: I mean, that was pretty much all of lock down 2020 right? lol.
We were hanging in the morning,
feeling all different kinds of things.
"Well you know...I thought you might have fallen down a well," Helga explained, continuing the dry little charade they had going, "Or perhaps fallen in the bath. Usual suburban accidents."
"Oh no, I have my life alert button," Arnold teased in return before glancing back at their snickering girls, "Can't be too careful at our age."
"Indeed not," Helga smirked back at him, her eyes then wandering back down to her pancakes.
"So your deck looks good," Arnold remarked, looking back at her, "The stain I mean."
"Oh," Helga's eyebrows raised and she momentarily glanced out the sliding back door to ensure they were talking about the same item. Ah, yes indeed they were. "Yeah, it turned out well I think."
"Say, have you smelt anything funny recently?"
The blonde woman paused, eyes subtly squinting as she tried to work out that bizarre change of subject. And she had a sneaking suspicion that it had to do with her. But whatev. "Uh...like?"
Arnold finished his last bite of pancake before shaking his head and shrugging, "Kind of like a skunk."
Ah. Yep, yep she knew where that was going.
Luckily parenthood had given her this ability called 'poker face' where she could literally stay straight faced in the most absurd of situations. This being one of them. No, Arnoldo, there wasn't a skunk, you beautifully naive creature. Twas' I, with my weed cig on my back deck! Helga simply blinked, glancing down as she forked off another couple triangles of pancakes and shook her head, "Not sure I would even know what they smell like." She continued playing dumb.
"Its a weird dank smell. Like marijuana. Unmistakable really."
Helga looked back at him, nodding rather convincingly if she did say so herself, "Really?" Insert concerned neighbor face.
"Oh yeah," Her bearded guest nodded, thinking he was imparting her with life changing information. Bless his heart.
"What's marijuana?" Zoey finally pipped up.
"Drugs you shouldn't ever do," Helga quickly quipped. One day, in the not so distant future, when Zoey was an adult and aware of the world around her, and of the ole' sinner's spinach, and Helga no longer gave a crap about hiding things from her...she was going to discover what a hypocrite her mother was. And also how cool she was. The cool part was a gimme.
"Might be a family of them living in the woods around the neighborhood now or something."
"Huh...that is crazy," Helga replied, swallowing down her last bite of pancake before setting her fork down, "I'll have to keep a smell out." Or finally switch to edibles. Criminey. Of course, she would move in behind McGruff the crime dog here. "Speaking of smells, are those your cigars I waft on occasion?"
Before Arnold could reply his offspring let out the loudest burp in creation. "Payton!" Her father scolded while suddenly looking mortified.
"What? I'm done," The girl shrugged.
"Me too," Zoey echoed, "Can we go play?"
"Put your plates in the sink," Helga waved them off as Arnold looked back at her with the tops of his cheeks a little red from embarrassment.
"She has manners, I promise."
"It's not a big deal," She assuredly chuckled, thankful that it for once it wasn't her kid doing embarrassing things, "That was impressive."
"It's one of her talents...that unfortunately she's quite proud of," Arnold chortled as he watched them both run upstairs. Once they disappeared his eyes cut back to his blonde haired, blue eyed host leaning back in her chair, bringing her cup of coffee to her lips, "Yes. To answer your question. They are my cigars. It's a guilty pleasure."
"Oh come on, it doesn't have to be guilty," She smirked over her coffee at him, "Anyway, I enjoy the smell of them so, keep pleasuring yourself Shortman," She winked at him, not one hundred percent sure where that came from. Now he probably thought she was hitting on him, or had a dirty mind, when in reality she just liked a good zinger here and there. But, in fear that she was about to chase off her daughter's new BFF because she was making awkward suggestive comments to her father, she made a show of shaking her head and saying, "And that came out way weird."
But thankfully, her guest smirked rather knowingly at her, his eyes creasing into little amused slits as he brought his own mug to his lips, "It was clever. I'll allow it," He snickered with assurance and took a big swig of the hot coffee. "So...I notice you work from home a lot."
Translation: why the hell are you home so much you bum!
Or well, that's what she would have thought, but he was probably a better person than she was so, he probably didn't think she was a bum at all. "One hundred percent at this point."
"That's cool. I'm about fifty percent myself," He nodded. Of course. He noticed because he was home most of the time too.
"Okay, required adulting questions of the morning...what do you do?" She finally asked, smirking as she polished off her coffee. Normally she couldn't care less about what anybody did for a living. Unless it was something truly interesting like...a used napkin restorer, or a butterfly therapist or whatever every couple on HGTV House Hunters seemed to have as a career. However, for once, she was actually curious about what a mere mortal, Arnold Shortman, had been doing with his life. Which, when she said it like that it sounded horrible and like he hadn't been doing anything productive.
"I work part-time as an underwriter for a bank and own several rental houses."
"Oh...that sounds..."
"Like a pain in the butt? It is," He chuckled.
"I was going to say fun but uh...yeah we'll go with yours I guess," She gestured with a smirk parting her lips, "So how does that work? Your rentals. You scoop up foreclosed properties I'm guessing?"
"Yeah, stuff that needs some repairs."
Helga's eyebrows raised a little, "Oh so you're good with your hands?" The innuendos just wouldn't stop falling out of her trap that morning now would they? At that, she sighed and shook her head at his laughing person, "I'm sorry, my brain can't seem put together sentences that don't qualify as sexual harassment this morning."
"Well, I am good with my hands though," He casually waved his right paw around, "Especially my fingers."
"Go on..." Helga snorted, she herself beginning to turn a little red over the fact that he was being weird right back at her. Thank God for that at least.
"Especially this one," He crinkled his index finger up and down a few times, "I can click on so many how-to home repair videos on YouTube," He explained before the two of them broke out into a good laugh. He watched her continued chuckling as he sat his hand back down and gave the shrug of his shoulder, "I'm handy in that everything I've learned to do or need to fix, I find a video for and hope for the best."
"There have been worse uses for the internet," Helga finally replied, "Involving hands and fingers," She snorted again, "Criminey, somebody stop me."
"Maybe it's the coffee?" Arnold suggested through his own fit of chuckles, "Do you mind if I have more?"
Helga shook her head, "Not at all. I need some too actually," She stood and reached for his empty mug and retreated to the kitchen, thankful for the change of scenery because she literally needed to be stopped and...to possibly have her ex-husband check her oil next time he was home.
Which made her wonder if her inability to act like a normal effing person around company stemmed from the fact that it had been like...over a decade since she'd flirted with another man besides her ex-husband, or if it was simply that it Arnold Shortman.
"Oh, I didn't mind getting my own!" Her guest exited his chair and followed her. By the time she turned around from the coffee maker with two fresh cups, he was standing their, pink cheeks poking out over his red beard and lopsided smirk sliding out from the rest, "You know, since I've got two hands that I'm good with," He held them up as he took one mug from her. "I think we both need to be stopped."
"Clearly," She returned the smirk and playfully rolled her eyes.
Arnold leaned back against the counter top, crossed one of his arms over his body and tucked it underneath his other arm as he brought the coffee to his lips, "So..."
"What do I do?" Helga finished for him as she took a step back and leaned against the adjacent counter top, "Glad you asked. Uh, I work for Kingston Builders as an estimator."
"I was actually going to ask where the bathroom was but..." He began teasing before smirking again over his coffee, "Kidding. What exactly does an estimator do?"
"Take-offs," Helga replied before realizing that was even more cryptic sounding to the layman, "I breakdown material and labor costs on custom builds and new tract phases and then negotiate those estimated costs with suppliers and sub-contractors. And if I save the company a decent amount of money each year I get a decent bonus."
Upon hearing that, she noticed Arnold's eyes had gone much wider than before. Clearly she had bedazzled him with her basic ass white person job. Which perhaps wasn't all that hard to do since he worked at a bank, "Wow. So you actually have legit construction know how then."
A question at which she shrugged to and took a sip of coffee, "I'm aware of how things should be built, yes. I mean...I kind of have to be or else I could royally miss-price a build and cost a the company lot of freakin' money."
At that, her guest began shaking his head, retaining that ever playful smirk he seemed to be getting ever more comfortable sporting around her, "I bet you have a good laugh at DIYer's like me."
Helga chortled and wagged her index at him, "Oh no, I've never picked up a tool in my life. Hats off to those brave enough to though."
"Ah, not so good with your hands, huh?"
She looked up her lashes at him and popped one of her brows, "Eh, I get more done with my mouth," Smirking while once again bringing her coffee to her lips, effectively hiding behind it. Was this how things were going to be with him? Never-ending sexual innuendos until they died? Well...if that was the case then Zoey might have to find her little self a new best friend cause she didn't know if she had the mental strength to have such a weird and witty friendship with a neighbor...whom she had hella history with, by the way.
"Maybe we should start a joint-venture."
Oh hell, she was no quitter. "What? With your hands and my mouth?"
"There's no telling what would come," He chuckled before setting his coffee cup down and holding up said hands, "I probably should see myself out before I make this anymore awkward."
Helga snorted, and shrugged, "Eh, what's the rush. It can't get any worse. We're already at the threshold of hell..." Heaven...hell...it remained to be seen she supposed, but he was a formidable opponent when it came to who could out awkward the other. "Unless of course you have more doors to paint."
He chuckled, "No. Worse. Never ending laundry."
"Ugh, laundry is the bane of my existence. Mostly because my kid manages to wear seventy-five outfits worth of clothing in five days time."
"It's insane. It defies logic how they dirty up so many pairs of clothes," Arnold astonished as he crossed his arms, "Half the time I'm like...when did you even get this? I've never seen this shirt before in my life."
"Does yours also have the magical ability to produce no less than five pounds of crumbs from a single snack pack of goldfish crackers?"
"Yep. Like Jesus feeding the five thousand."
Helga snorted, "I always know where to find her. I just follow the mess."
"You know, they really don't tell you that about parenthood. That all you do is laundry, clean messes and never catch up on rest."
"Well of course not. It's a terrible hood. Very ghetto here, really," She teased back.
Arnold laughed as he fished his phone out of his front pocket, pulling up something on it's screen, "So...about a month ago, I bought a Roomba, and let me tell you, I am getting my monies worth out of it so far." He closed the gap between them and angled his phone to show her a video of the round vacuum running over a smattering of glitter and pretzel crumbs on a tile floor.
"I'm seriously considering one...or, you know a dog or...perhaps an etiquette class of eating techniques that don't include shoveling," Helga chuckled as she looked off for a split second thinking that a robot vacuum sounded way better than a pet she'd have to spend the next eight to twenty with.
"Do it," He urged, pocketing his phone. "Best four hundred bucks I've ever spent," Because adult peer pressure was real but instead of drugs and thrill seeking, it was appliances. Honestly, if that pesky ex-husband of hers sent her money transfer back, as he threatened to do instead of going and buying himself a new dinning room table like she had insisted, she was going to go treat herself to a Roomba.
"I might just," She said, trailing off and then changing the subject, "So, are your parents still operating the boarding house?"
Arnold nodded, returning to lean back against the kitchen counter across from her, "Yeah for now. They're thinking about moving into a little townhouse since they are starting to get up in age. My dad doesn't really want to have to fool with tenants much longer," He explained, "I know your parents are still in town. How are they doing?"
"The same as ever. I don't see them all that much."
"I feel like I saw your sister at a stop light not too long ago."
Helga shrugged, "It's possible. She was in town a month ago."
"Ah," Arnold nodded, "Where's she living now?"
"Alaska."
Her guests eyebrows rose with his widened eyes, "Oh wow."
"Yup. With her husband Tobias. They run a haunted museum..." She trailed off. Good grief, her sister was one of those crazy HGTV people. "Before you ask, your guess is as good as mine on that."
"To each their own I suppose," He snickered.
"Nah," She waved off his polite reply, choosing to tell him how it was, "She's a little crazy."
"I hear Alaska can do that."
"It probably hasn't helped," She chuckled in return. Her sister had always been a little nutty in her opinion, but now especially. But she seemed to be living her best life collecting haunted knick-knacks. Actually...Olga would probably know all about the Windego, considering she was now an expert on the living impaired. Maybe she would ring the ole girl la—and her stray cat mind was wandering. "But she was a little cooky before. Pro tip: never accept a gift from her," She winked.
"Good to know," Arnold gave a smiling reply before his eyes fluttered towards the stairs, "I'm going to get out of your hair though. I'm sure you have plenty of things you'd rather be doing than me—talking to me all morning I mean." He was blushing in embarrassment again.
She feigned surprise, "And miss all of this awkward banter?"
"Yeah that. You probably think I don't get out much..."
"I mean..."
"And you'd be right."
"Hey..." Helga sat her empty cup down, "I hear you. Same boat. Kind of hard to get out when your roommate is always home...very needy...pays no bills...leaves the place a wreck, and acts like they've never seen sleep before every night."
"Exactly. Deadbeat kids," He winked, "Anyway. Thank you so much for breakfast and, again I am so sorry that Payton showed up over here unannounced. It wont happen again."
"She's fine. I'd rather that she came here versus wandering around elsewhere," Helga waved away his apology for the nth time that morning. But to be fair, if Zoey had done that she would have been mortified too, and then probably have one of those electric fences like in Jurassic Park installed around the backyard to insure she didn't get loose a second time. Again, if anybody—anybody—heard that they would be shocked to know that Zoe was in fact, a mischievous child and not a dog and certainly not a prehistoric reptile.
"She's not a weird kid or anything." One of Arnold's hands shot up to rub the back of his neck while he nodded, "She just tends to...gravitate towards maternal types," He said as his eyes fell to the floor for a moment and then back up to her, "I guess that's a round about way of saying she likes you," He offered her a small smile before inhaling, "Anyway, I guess I'll see you around."
"The odds are certainly high," She responded as she watched him walk towards the back door, "I'll send her home later."
"You sure?"
"Always." They waved goodbye to one another one last time and the very moment he closed her sliding door behind him, she was whipping out her cell and ringing Phoebe to discuss. "Oh come on!" She held the phone away, staring dejectedly at it as if it were personally responsible for her friend not answering, "What could you possibly be doing that's so important?" Other than maybe living her life.
Night.
"The Nightmare before Christmas," Zoey shouted from the couch, remote in hand.
"No," Helga replied while standing at the microwave, waiting for their popcorn to finish.
"Halloweentown?"
"No."
"The Haunted Mansion?"
"Fudge no," The microwave finally beeped and she carefully pulled the hot bag out, hurriedly pinching the corners open and dumping the steaming hot kernels into a large bowl.
"Casper?"
"Maybe," Her mother reluctantly agreed as she walked to the couch, "Can't we just watch a regular movie? Again, it's not even October."
"Again, I'm preparing for Halloween," Zoey gave her mom a serious look as she took the popcorn.
"What exactly do you plan to watch during October then? You'll have exhausted all of your Halloween movies." Right as Helga was going to sit, her phone began to vibrate in her pocket. She fished it out, a mild amount of annoyance clouding her face until she saw that it was Phoebe.
"Just start something. I'll be back in a minute."
"Who is it?" Her nosy child sat up on the couch.
"None-ya," Helga clapped back before smiling, "Aunt Phoebe," She then said as she walked back into the kitchen, bringing the phone to her ear, "Hey Pheebs, what's up?"
"Just returning your call from earlier."
"Ah. Right. I did call you earlier. I forgot. Anywho, what have you been up to today?" She asked as she grabbed a stool and sat down at the kitchen bar.
"Oh, Chad and I just got back from a day hike we started this morning."
Helga snickered, "The Chad," She said, drawing out the 'ad' part.
"Yeah, I've got you on speaker phone," Phoebe quietly chuckled, a touch of embarrassment peaking through.
"Oh...sorry Chad!" The blonde quickly apologized to her best friend's husband, who, despite what his name might have implied, was actually a great dude and not a douche bag who wore Sperrys and overly revealing khaki shorts. After college, Phoebe had moved to Denver, met The Chad, bought a Subaru and opened a health food store. Living her best—and healthiest—life.
"The Helga..." She heard his deep voice echo from afar over the phone, then some rustling which she assumed was her friend making the conversation more private.
"So, what's going on?" Phoebe said after a quick chuckle at her husband.
"What? I can't just call to chat?" Helga feigned offense.
But all for nothing because her all knowing best friend snorted, and Helga could hear her roll her eyes, "At 9:30 in the morning? Negative."
"Well since you asked...this morning Arnold's kid showed up at my back door."
"...was everything okay?"
"Oh perfectly fine. She was just bored. Anyway, long story short, he ended up coming and having breakfast with us."
"Oh," Phoebe mused, "That sounds nice."
"Eh..."
"Eh? What was 'eh' about it?"
"I don't know it was just a little...awkward," Helga absently ran her hand through her hair out of habit, "Like I'm beginning to think that it's been a hot minute since he's talked to...anyone of the opposite sex quite frankly, much less a single one."
Phoebe snorted again, "That's...oddly specific. Why do you say that?"
"He just..." To be fair, she'd kind of started it with her inability to choose her sentences in a way that didn't suggest a come-on, "Acted nervous the entire time."
"He's probably just still afraid of you. He doesn't know you aren't the wildest of cards anymore."
"You're hilarious Pheebs," Helga deadpanned before lifting an eyebrow, "And I resent that you know. I'm still plenty wild and...cardish." That didn't even make sense, but she was digging her heels in.
"A regular Uno deck," The dark haired woman teased back, "So no wife or girlfriend to be found yet I'm guessing?" She moved right along.
Helga sighed, "Not that I've seen, though he did say something peculiar to me before he left, you know while still profusely apologizing for his kid just wandering up into my house. Did I mention that?
"No?"
"So much apologizing. Like his kid is the only one that does weird kid things," She rolled her eyes.
"Okay, what did he say?"
"He said that she 'gravitates towards maternal types'." Indeed she'd found it an entirely perplexing statement and naturally wondered what her best friend thought of it too.
"Huh..." Phoebe remarked.
"I know, weird right?"
"Intriguing. I bet he's widowed. And probably for awhile."
"That's what I'm thinking. I mean, it seems like a comment at widower would make." Not that she personally knew any widowers herself but if she did, she was sure they would say cryptic things like that. Or maybe it was just a mis-interpreted sentence, like the time somebody asked her where her ex-husband was and she said, 'he's in a better place,' and they thought he was dead and not in sun soaked South California for work, which at the time was a better place to be than cold, rainy Seattle.
The point was...miscommunications happened all the time.
Wednesday.
Helga was about to wrap up her work for that afternoon when her business cell began ringing, the caller ID showing it to be her old office. Not unusual, but the first time in a month they'd had any reason to call her. "Hello...?" She casually answered, listening while her eyebrows slightly raised before her eyes rolled, "KBBrazel2014. Get your own password already Health, God...I'm kidding, how is everything over there?" Ah, Heath, her water cooler gossip bff at her old office. "No? How in the hell did they mange to screw something like that up?"
At that moment, Zoey and Payton poked their heads around the door jamb because kids had the superpower of knowing when parents were on the phone and picking that exact moment to suddenly need something unimportant and not at all urgent in nature. But Helga didn't bat an eye, casually holding up her index finger to the girls, signalling for them to wait as she continued to listen to her old work buddy rattle off the most recent incident of intrigue. "Idiots..." She snorted, "Alright...yep. Please do, I want to hear how this plays out..." She nodded, "Bye Heath," She concluded before setting the phone down and turning her attention to her peeping Toms. "What's up?"
Both girls slinked into the room, Zoey with that smile she put on when she really wanted something, "Can you braid our hair?"
Her mother leaned back in her chair, one of her eyebrows arching high, "Right now? You're going to be going to bed in a few hours and will ruin it," She pointed out, but the unconcern on her ten year olds face told her that her pleads for sanity were falling on deaf ears. So she relented, "Go down stairs," She sighed while pushing her chair away from her desk. Wasn't like she had anything else to do now being technically done with work for the day.
With elated smiles, the two girls galloped down stairs to impatiently wait for her to weave her magic in their hair. Something that she still chuckled at, and probably would forever. See, from the time she was old enough to think about such things, she'd always envisioned herself being more suited as a boy mom. She had been a tom boy, devoid of a lot of the prissiness inhabiting many of her female counterparts, and being right at home with the guys. So it had made sense that she was cut out to be a boy mom. And then came Zoey, whose girly girl streak was just as big as her rough and tumble streak. And suddenly she was a girl mom, finding herself willingly and happily doing all the girl things. Nails, hair, make-up, clothes, bubble bathes, the whole nine yards of things she'd never in her life cared much about, much less enjoy doing.
On the edge of the couch she proceeded to weave a fierce french braid into both of the girls hair as they sat on pillows in front of her, chatting and watching TV. "I wish my dad could do stuff like this," Payton said as she looked at Zoey's hair while Helga started working on hers.
"I'm shocked he can't," The older blonde chuckled, mildly surprised that Mr. DIY hadn't YouTube'd a video for it.
"He's tried before but it didn't look good. He can do a ponytail and that's about it."
"Last time my dad touched my hair, my mom yelled at him," Zoey related in an attempt to make her friend feel better about her father's lack of hair skills.
Again, Helga chuckled, rolling her eyes as she remembered the incident, "Because he managed to somehow get a comb tangled in your hair so badly that I had to cut the knot out." Both girls started giggling.
"Okay my dad's not that bad I guess," Payton reassessed through her chuckles.
"There," Helga finished up, snapping a tight elastic tie to the end of Payton's braid, "Finished."
"Awesome," Zoey said, pulling her friend to her feet, "Let's go look," She began dragging her to the bathroom to use the mirror without so much as a thank you.
"Thank you..." Helga chuckled in a low voice, "You're the best mom ever," She stood from the couch, "I'm going to take good care of you when you're elderly," She shook her head, still quietly joking with her pretend conversation, "At least put me in a good retirement home one day!" She said a little louder as she walked into the kitchen, pausing to consider that thought for a moment, and becoming absolutely sure she and her ex would get put into a Happy Gilmore nursing home to which their only hope would be an attentive grandchild busting them out.
Yay.
Anyway, she remembered that she'd walked in there intending on figuring out what she felt like making for dinner that night.
Ultimately tacos, but not the fun adult type. The child friendly ones that consisted of ground beef and cheese between a hard shell and none of that toppings non-sense that made life worth living. She also made a little cilantro rice to go with it, already rolling her eyes with the knowledge that Zoey would attempt to pick out all the green bits, even though she liked the way it tasted. Kids made no sense. Ever. "Is it done yet?" Suddenly, said offspring popped into her peripheral, eyeballing the dish of tacos that her mother had just taken out of the oven, shells toasted and cheese melted atop the filling.
"For the most part," Helga replied, finishing the rice, "Did Payton go home?" She glanced past her child, looking for her newly adopted stray kid that she was considering claiming on the coming years taxes already.
"Yeah. Her dad said she had to be home at 5:30."
"Grab your plate." Zoey did as she was told, fetching her eating utensils as well. Her mother split the rice between them, tossing a few tacos onto her daughter's plate before plating her own dish, opting to chop up an avocado and some pico for hers. While she was trying to church up her circa '95 tacos, she felt her phone vibrate in her back pocket. Wiping her hands she pulled it out, seeing a text from Arnold that read, 'Thank you for braiding Payton's hair.'
Weirdly, it brought a smile subconsciously to her face as she texted back, 'Don't mention it. I'll have to teach you sometime.' She'd call it her selfless good deed for the year.
'Lol. Please do!'
One Week Later. Saturday.
Tranquil. That's how she would describe her morning. Helga stood in her kitchen, bringing her pipping hot, freshly brewed cup of black coffee to her lips to bask in that wonderful smell. Her wild child remained asleep up stairs. Turned out, letting her stay up until 11:30pm on a Friday night watching Harry Potter movies was paying in spades the following morning. Of course now it was almost too quiet, Helga thought as she looked around suspiciously.
Still, she wouldn't be left to her morning peace, because suddenly her phone was vibrating in her pajama pocket. She rolled her eyes, huffing slightly as she fished around and retrieved it, wondering who would have the courage to be texting her at 9:30am in the morning on a Saturday.
Oh, of course. Shortman.
'Hey sorry to bother you so early. Can you come out back? I need to show you something?'
She couldn't fathom what he possibly had to show her. Other than perhaps gnaw marks on the fence from their children, but unfortunately for him, she had no solutions other than muzzling and declawing, though it would probably be frowned upon. Pocketing her phone she decided to humor him with her presence, shrugging on her mom jacket as she slipped out the back door into the very brisk fall morning air. Peering through the glare of the sun, and up the slight hill towards his house, she—to her horror—saw where he had taken off the fence pickets to a section of fence, smack-dap in the middle of their yards.
Hugging her jacket a little tighter, she furrowed her brow a bit and began marching across her yard with her coffee to go inquire about his mind and where it had gone to. "Arnold...just what the hell are you doing?" She questioned sternly, though she hoped it didn't come across as bitchy.
Said neighbor peaked his beardy face around the fence, freshly removed fence picket in hand, smiling and ever chipper looking in his yard-work jeans and flannel button up. And yes, she checked him out for a solid few seconds as she came to a stand, cocking her hip and shifting her weight to one foot. "Making a gate."
Good lord, were those dad shoes he was wearing? Crimeny, they were. She blinked at him, "A gate...?"
"Uh huh." He nodded, throwing the picket aside before bending over and grabbing his thermos of coffee from the ground and taking a warm sip, "So the girls can go back and forth instead of climbing the fence."
"Ah." Her eyebrows rose as she took a sip of her own coffee in conjunction with him, "That's actually a good idea." Of course it was. The man used his lawn mower to vacuum up his leaves. He was functioning on a whole other level as far as she was concerned.
"I thought so," He smiled again.
Helga then looked at him, eyes thinning into little lines as a smirk drew to her lips, "Do you know how to build a gate?"
"Uh..." He trailed off, bashfully smiling back as he shoved his free hand into his pocket, "I Youtube'd a video."
The blue eyed blonde spun her eyes as she slightly shook her head, a light flutter of laughter flowing past her lips as she held her open palm out to him, "Let me see it?"
Arnold snickered, "What? You don't believe me?" He pulled the phone out of the pocket his hand was shoved into.
"I'm just going to check your homework." Were they flirting again? Did that even count as flirting? Was it appropriate to be flirting with the neighbor/daughter's friend's father? Well, at least it was staying PG this time around. As her mind wandered around the definition of flirting versus normal social behavior, Arnold bemusedly handed over his iPhone with his video pulled up. She had been partially joking with him about it, after all, it was his fence, he could do what he pleased, but since he was showing her it, she might as well make sure it was going to look good if she had to stare at it from her humble abode. Hitting play, she dragged her thumb along the red timeline, quickly watching the assembly. Having seen enough she handed his phone back to him and said, "So, that's fine, but add a double cross brace instead. It wont sag down the road."
The bearded guy's eyes widened again as he shoved the phone back into his pants pocket, "Oh, okay yeah. Thanks for telling me that."
"See...what did I tell you," She held her free hand out as if to say ta-da, "Good with my mouth." Dammit...
Thankfully Arnold smirked back instead of throwing up a 'For Sale' sign in his front yard, "Now I can get my hands to work."
"Yes you can," She said the lamest thing ever and gave him the ole finger pistol before making to turn to head back into the warmth of her house. What a mom thing to do. Good God...
"You sure you don't want to help me?" Arnold laughed as he asked.
The young woman turned around, continuing to walk backwards as she gave him a fake consideration face, before inhaling and saying, "But you're doing so good!"
"I've barely started! I've literally only torn things apart at this point."
"Godspeed!" She laughed and turned back around.
After breakfast and while the girls played with some of the other neighbor kids that morning, she periodically peeked through the back sliding door to see his progress. Painfully slow she regretted to report. Not like she could do any better or provide any sort of assistance that would make things happen any faster. She was simply used to seeing professionals do that sort of stuff.
By lunch time she just felt bad for him. He hadn't taken a single break—other than to grab himself some water—since he started the project. She felt bad enough that she made him a sandwich and a beer and well...she couldn't have him withering away from starvation while trying to build a simple gate. Grabbing the plate and the beverage, she slipped out the back into a the slightly warmer but still rather brisk afternoon air and strolled casually to where he was knelt over the frame of his gate, driving a screw in. He looked up as she came to a stop beside his creation, "For me or are you planning to supervise while drinking on the job?" He smirked as he leaned back on his hind haunches.
"Well I can't have you collapsing dead before this thing is done. Not to mention I know zero life saving techniques," She shrugged, reciprocating his smirk as she handed him the plate and bottle, "So please, sustain yourself...or...I don't know...collapse from starvation on your side of the fence so I'm not burdened with the insurance claim at least," She chortled, "I hope you like PB&J and Guinness."
"It's great! Thank you. It's like an adult lunchable," He remarked, taking a huge swallow from the beer before nearly devouring the sandwich in a single man bite. Perhaps she should have brought two? Nah, he should have the energy to go feed himself elsewhere at that point. He swallowed, "Am I doing it right?"
"Uh..." Helga glanced down at it, trying to decide the perfect balance of being nice and preventing the contraption from killing their kids. Surprisingly it did look good and it should because he'd only been working on it for like...ninety-seven hours at that point or something. "Actually it looks good."
"Actually? Actually?" Arnold feigned offense in a teasing manor, "Ye of little faith."
Helga playfully narrowed her eyes down at him, "Did you use exterior wood screws?"
"Um..." He teasingly narrowed his eyes back at her, "Yeah..." He held her stare for a moment longer before his eyes cut to the side, a little panic flashing while looking over at all his gate building supplies, "I think so." He hurriedly knee walked over to his stuff.
"Oh my Ga—you think?!" Helga snorted.
After fishing around in his shopping bag for a split moment he pulled a package up, scanned it quickly with his eyes before holding it up so she could see, "Yes! I did! See, exterior use." He tapped the plastic label.
His blonde counterpart chuckled, crossing her arms as she smirked, "Are they long enough?"
"It's not the size that matters, it's how you use them," Arnold smartly replied, tossing the unopened package back into the open bag before scooting back over to where he'd sat down his beer and sandwich.
"Said the man who clearly didn't get long enough screws," She chuckled, eyebrows raised as she looked off while rocking forward on her toes. He'd gotten the right size, she just felt like giving him a hard time and she had know idea why other than he'd started it.
Arnold pfft, "Please," rolling his green eyes, "Two and a half inches is plenty."
"Oh yes, the wood is just lining up to get drilled by that."
"Look at this gate," He motioned to his handiwork, "This is some happy wood. Having the best day of its life."
"Oh yeah?" Helga chuckled, "What's this?" She pointed to an area that he'd clearly mis-drilled, chipped the wood and had to start over in another spot.
Arnold glanced at it before looking back at her as he ran his tongue across the front of his teeth behind his lips, "I may have missed."
"Oh you missed?"
"I'm a guy sometimes I miss," He held his hands up in a 'what can you do' manner.
"That poor wood."
"You know what? Go back inside," He began shooing her, "You're ruining the vibe with my gate."
Helga snorted and turned to walk away, "Fine. I'll leave you two alone."
Well he did it. The crazy bastard did it. He built the gate and got it mounted and it didn't look half bad. From afar at least. She made no promises for an up close inspection, and for the third time that day she wandered back to his job site to investigate. "It's alive," She stupidly said, feeling the spirit of October upon her or something.
"Yes Master," He croaked back in a wretched Igor voice, and if they could ever move past the awkward innuendos he might be her new bff solely for his ability to riff with her weirdness at the drop of a hat.
"So...I'm getting ready to order some pizzas. You want in?"
Arnold smiled, looking away from where he was mounting the latch to give her a funny look, "Let's see...you've fed me breakfast, and lunch and now you're offering me dinner too?"
"Eh, you know. Feed a neighbor three square meals, get a free blooming onion at Outback," She said with a very deadpanned expression as she pocketed her hands in her jacket, "Your child said she's eating pizza no matter what you say," Helga then smirked.
Her neighbor rolled his eyes, "Is she being pushy again?"
"Well she hasn't exactly picked up the phone and called to order on my behalf yet so, no I'd say normal ten year old behavior," Helga teased with a chuckle before shrugging, "I don't care."
"You sure?"
"Yup."
"Let's at least go halfsies."
"Whatever floats your boat."
Arnold smiled, walked through the gate into her side of the yard and swung it shut. And it latched with a click. Looking back at her, his smile was toothy behind his beard, "Done!"
"Praise Jesus. I'm going to get them a cheese and...I don't know maybe a supreme if you're into that."
"Oh thank God...you like vegetables on your pizza too."
Helga blinked, "Well of course I do. I'm thirty and have a kid. I need the fiber and variety," She smirked.
"Also, you don't have to worry about them eating the leftovers out from under you," Arnold pointed out.
"Exactly."
"I'm going to run and change real quick. I smell like wood chips or something. Give me five minutes." Arnold explained before jogging off towards his house, leaving Helga to walk back inside alone. While waiting for his return, she rang the local pizza joint to place their order, wandering into the kitchen as she talked, "Yep. Thanks!" She ended the call and shoved her phone back into her back pocket, just in time to see her dinner guest slipping through her backdoor, changed into a clean pair of clean jeans and a turtle neck sweater. "Thirty minutes. It's $25.49 plus tip. Just give me like twelve bucks later or something. I'll cover the tip."
Arnold pulled out his wallet and began foraging through the bill fold section before pulling out a twenty and slapping it down on the counter top, "Don't try to give me change back. I will throw it in your yard." He jokingly warned.
Helga cocked an eyebrow but gave him a totally un-amused, deadpan kind of expression, "Oddly specific threat."
Her companion laughed, "It seemed dramatic."
"Oh it was," Helga chuckled as she reached out and took the twenty from him and shoved it in her jacket pocket.
"Where are the girls at?"
"They were in Zoey's room doing something," She said as she turned and opened her upper cabinet in search of some drink-ware, "What can I get you to drink?"
Arnold's attention jumped from the stairs to the second floor, back to his host's back, "What do you have?"
Said host craned her neck back around and shrugged, "Water, orange juice or soda. I'm having a glass of wine if you care to partake." She was in a rare mood for a glass, though perhaps getting potentially buzzed around him wasn't the best of idea.
"Red?"
"Yep."
"Sure I'll take a glass." Bombs away!
Helga turned back around and fished out two stemless glasses and popped the cork to a bottle of red blend she'd bought at World Market the other day because it had an captivating label. Which summed up her buying habits with alcohol in general. Oh...pretty label! She poured them both a generous helping and handed him his. "Cheers." She tapped his glass and took a sip, silently thankful that it was indeed good tasting wine.
Arnold took his own sip and appeared pleasantly surprised, "Pretty good. What is it?"
Helga turned and grabbed the bottle, holding it up for him to see before shrugging and setting it back down, "I bought it the other day cause it looked interesting."
"I'm a label buyer too, don't worry," He winked at her.
The blue-eyed blonde sighed with a chuckle, "Yeah I don't know much about wine...mostly because I don't drink very much anymore...mostly because it makes me sleepy and sometimes gives me a headache."
"Ye-up." Arnold nodded in agreement, "I used to be able to drink whenever without issue but, I don't know...I definitely have to be in the mood now or it's right to bed for me."
"Which is weird how that is a totally relatable thing now," She chuckled, take a slow sip from her glass.
Before either could figure out where to take the conversation next, a pair of high pitched squeals pierced through the house, emanating from the upstairs. Both parent's hightailed it to the stairs, galloping up the treads, Helga leading the way to her kids room, neither spilling an ounce of wine impressively. "What's going on?! Everything okay!?" She shouted in a panicked voice as she and Arnold burst through the door.
Their girls were both standing on Zoey's bed, fright and terror besmirching their faces as they pointed to the middle of the room. Parental eyes darted away from their stricken offspring, to where their pointed fingers instructed, seeing a circle of candles in varies sizes and scents along with a couple of flashlights.
"What the...?" Arnold trailed off in confusion...
But Helga knew exactly what was going on, marching further into the room and giving her daughter a stern look, "Were you trying to have a seance?"
"Yes! And there was a ghost! And I'm so sorry! We'll never do it again!" Zoey said with a panicked voice.
Helga looked from them to Arnold to down at the floor, seeing her larger Yankee Candles burning away and... "Are those my bath candles?" She pointed to them and glanced back at her daughter. And before she could get an answer, she heard Arnold giggle, as much as he tried to hide it. Her eyes slid to her guest, who indeed, looked like he was about to burst with laughter.
"I'm sorry," He held up his hand, face tinging red with at least some embarrassment, "It's just funny that you have bath candles."
At that, Helga cocked her hip and planted her free hand onto it, shooting him a confused look though a playful smirk of curiosity pulled one half of the corners of her mouth upward, "What's so funny about that?" Although...she supposed she should be glad he was laughing and not...fleeing in terror with his child in fear that she stewarded some sort of home for the occult.
That was her sister's department.
Of course, depending on how effective two ten year olds were at conjuring the dead with two fresh linens, six small lavenders, and her large holiday wreath scented candles, she may also be running a home for wayward spirits now. And not the alcoholic kind. On that thought, Helga took a big ole gulp of her wine.
And Arnold shrugged, still grinning away, "I don't know it's just funny. Helga Pataki...enjoying bath candles."
"They're relaxing."
"And extremely girly."
Helga drew back, smirking, "I am a girl," She leaned over and scooped up one of the candles that belonged in her office. "In case you forgot."
"No, no, well aware."
The blonde woman turned her attention back to the two kids jumping off of the bed, "You two," She nodded back to the floor, "Put all of these back where you got them." The girls hurriedly scampered to the floor, blowing out everything, carefully picking them up and taking as many as they could out of the room. As that was going on, Helga casually carried the one in her hand across the hall to her office to replace it on the shelf it had been stolen from. Arnold nonchalantly followed after her, leaning against the door frame as he watched her replace the item.
"Nice office."
"I'll be honest," Helga smirked as she looked over her shoulder, "I'm thinking about a she-shed to work out of instead."
Her guest shoved off of the frame and wandered further into the room, taking a gulp of his win, "Why? You have plenty of space." He said looking around.
"It's not the space. It's just rather depressing working next door to where you sleep." She walked up beside where he stood casually admiring her computer set-up.
She then saw him frown at something before saying, "In loving memory of Sandy..." Her eyes quickly darted to the little "memorial" that she may have printed and...may have gotten framed that may have been sitting on her desk.
"Uh...it's a long story," She hurriedly said as she took a sip of wine and then cleared her throat awkwardly, "She's alive and well by the way. Anywho! Better go check on those crazy kids!" She began ushering him back out of the door before he could delve any deeper into her weirdness.
They descended the stairs and Helga was pleasantly pleased to see her holiday candle returned to it's place on the side table and the girls innocently watching TV and not opening up a gate for Zuul. Once they had walked back into the kitchen, Helga turned to Arnold, face a little more pink that she would have liked it to be and said, "Sorry about...that. My kids not weird or anything...I just...maybe have implied the house could be haunted since I got such a good deal on it and she's just kind of...run with it."
Arnold chortled and waved her off, "I'm just glad they didn't burn the house down."
"You and me both," Helga murmured as she reached for the wine bottle, "Seconds?" She asked him.
"After that? Yep!" He held his almost empty glass out for her to pour. And she topped him off before the door bell rang, "Perfect timing."
"No kidding," She tabled her glass and headed to the door, grabbing their pizzas from the driver and dropping them off on the kitchen bar before snagging some plates and napkins from the pantry.
"So...I've been admiring your fire pit out there," Arnold said as he slipped a slice from the box onto his plate, licking a bit of grease from his thumb. Of course he was. He was a suburban Dad. And besides immaculate grass, every suburban father loved a good fire.
"Would you like to go dine by fire?"
Arnold chuckled, giving her a faux look of absurdity, "Of course I would."
So that's what the adults did. They grabbed their pizza and their wine, Helga lit propane and the pit flickered to light with a hiss. "I kind of stole this from my ex-husband," She absently said as Arnold dropped down into the seat beside hers, "Don't worry, he was cool with it...in case you were worried."
"Never letting you in my yard," Her guest laughed, mouth full of pizza, "That gate's getting locked tonight."
Helga rolled her eyes in laughter, "I could use a grill," She fake threatened while pretending to admire his from afar. She then dropped down into her own chair and chowed down on a couple slices of pizza before realizing that she needed a wine refill...and so did he. "So...you know we have to finish this tonight."
"Finish what? This pizza? The wine? A mortal combat battle? Be more specific," Arnold replied, not skipping a beat as he shoved his last piece of crust in his mouth.
Helga deadpanned him for the 90th time that day, but honestly she was pretty sure they were bffs now with that type of vibing weird humor. Where was this Arnold in their school days? "Well obviously I don't run a hidden temple here so the wine preferably...as I would also enjoy leftovers."
"Fair enough," He winked and held out his glass for her to refill. She topped him off before topping her self off. She knew there was a high likely hood that the bottle would go flat or stale or...whatever happened to red wine if they didn't drink it that night. Mostly because there was no way she would finish it in the coming week. The moral of that story was she tended to waste a lot of wine.
"Man that hit the spot," Arnold sat back and patted his stomach, "Good call on the pizza."
"Don't thank me. Thank the junior ghost hunters in there." And since it was impossible for her to have a moments peace that night, she felt her phone begin to vibrate in her back pocket with an incoming call. She sat her plate down and fished it out, seeing her ex and swiping to answer. "Hey Sid...she's got a friend over but yeah I can...you sure? I'll get her to call you back before bed then. Sounds good." She ended the call and went to return the phone to her pocket.
Arnold had completely paused as he listened to the one sided conversation, his mind working frantically to connect dots he'd been mustering to put together since he'd accidentally caught sight of a piece of her mail. Brazel. Brazel. Brazel. Sid. Brazel.
Sidney Brazel.
"Brazel!" He snapped his finger and pointed his index at her, finally figuring out why her last name was so familiar, "I knew I knew that last name from somewhere. I just couldn't put my finger on it. You and Sid? Wow!"
Helga, a little stunned by his sudden outburst and the dramatic turn in conversation was quiet for a moment. It wasn't as if it had been a big secret, but it was news to him, and she supposed it would be seeing as they hadn't seen each other since they were 18 years old. "Yep. Me and Sid."
"Is he bald now?
"Uh..." Helga trailed off, brow pulling together while wondering where the hell that question came from. Arnold could certainly keep her on her toes.
"It's just, by the time we hit high school he never took that beanie off so I kind of always thought he might have been prematurely balding on top."
Helga shook her head, but chuckled at the assumption, "He was going grey actually."
"Really?"
"Pretty wild right? Yeah, he's completely salt and pepper now, but yeah he has all of his hair."
"Definitely better than being bald," Arnold chuckled, "So...what's the story here? Is there a story?"
"There's always a story Arnoldo," She chuckled, "I went home with him when I left Rhonda's summer party right after I kissed you," She explained before immediately setting her glass down and holding both of her index fingers out at him, "And it wasn't at all how I just made it sound," She quickly clarified.
"I mean...it was a party. Nobody was going to judge."
"Yeah, well I hate when people get the wrong impression. Like...I didn't go home home with him. But I've always just told people we'd known each other since we were kids...but...obviously that explanation doesn't work on you."
"Yeah, I guess it doesn't," Arnold shrugged, "And normally I wouldn't care but you've really managed to open up a can of intrigue now."
"I seem to be quite good at that..." She sighed "When I stormed out of that stupid party, I was planning on leaving but, in my whirl of irritation I had forgotten that I'd ridden with Phoebe. Low and behold, as I'm marching down the mansion steps, I see Sid getting on his...remember that dirt bike he had that was somehow street legal?"
"Who could forget."
"So I see him getting on his dirt bike and, in dramatic fashion because I'm me, I hop on the back of it and tell him to take me wherever he's going."
"Sounds about right."
"Right. Well, I fully expected that he was going to some other party, probably in the woods with a sketchy sized bon fire and cheap disgusting liquor abound because lets face it...that was kind of how he rolled in high school."
"Yeah, he was kind of the bon fire expert."
Like if they interviewed him on the History channel his title would be Professor of Bonfires, "Definitely. So he just kind of shrugs and we take off and the next thing I know, we're pulling up at his house. Of course then I'm like...W.T.F...he's got a set a brass ones but you know what he says to me?"
"What?"
"I'm actually kind of tired so...if you want me to take you home I will, but I'm going to go smoke a bowl and watch some TV if you're down," Helga mimicked in her best deep voice.
"You do a good impression of how I remember his voice."
"One of my many useless talents. So anyway, his parents were on night shift or out of town or...I don't really remember, point is they weren't home. I personally didn't feel like going home at that point so we got stoned, watched some dumb movie and I fell asleep on his damn bean bag chair. The next morning I got up and was planning to just walk the four blocks home to my house but he offered to take me and so...he did and then I offered to buy him breakfast for letting me crash on his incredibly uncomfortable chair for the night and then taking me home. So we go to Waffle House for breakfast, which...was more like lunch at that point and then just kind of piddled around the rest of the day together before going to an actual bon-fire party that night at the haunted train station with some other people that I kind of knew. We left there when we got bored and once again, ended up watching a movie at his house." Helga trailed off, realizing just how long ago that had really been, "Anyway, it just kind of became a thing for the rest of the summer where we'd just...chill and watch movie together because we really enjoyed one anothers company."
"I see why you wanted to set the record straight," Arnold softly smiled, "It turned into a pretty wholesome little story."
"See...I told you," Helga replied with a smirk, "I mean it turned into a fling for sure, which turned into him moving to Oregon with me when I started school that August under the condition that he find some damn direction in life that didn't involve being the neighborhood loan shark and pot dealer." Arnold chuckled along with her, "Yes I, Helga Pataki, became somebody else's moral compass."
"I bet it went swimmingly."
"Kind of. He got himself into tech school for welding last minute. Thank God."
"That's...surprising. I mean, no offense but, beside him being gungho about dirt bikes he never really struck me as a hands on type of guy. Does he like YouTube as much as I do?" Arnold laughed, thinning his eyes comically at her.
"I'm sure he's spent his fair share of time on it," Helga replied with a laugh, "The welding thing shocked the shit out of me too, but what it was is he heard that he could make a lot of money at it. He wasn't wrong, and he actually enjoys it." Helga explained, "Him randomly picking that career ended up being a really good thing for us because...well I'm sure you can math. I got pregnant with Zoey like...right after my nineteenth birthday."
"You party too hard?"
"No! Because of food freakin' poisoning."
Arnold snorted, "...well now I'm intrigued."
"As you should be!" Helga half smirked in return, waving her hand around dramatically, "I had bad food poisoning. Like...ended up in the emergency room for dehydration."
"Oh dang...like legit food poisoning?"
"Legit! I've never been so sick in my life. Before or since." The memory alone still made her shutter.
"What caused it, did you ever find out?"
"A freakin' salad I grabbed from campus," Helga rolled her eyes, still salty about it, and still weary of leafy greens to that very day, "Several other students got sick as well which prompted a campus memo. Anyway, throwing up for three days straight and ending up in the hospital caused me to lose a few days of birth control so...surprise salmonella baby!" Yes, it was incredibly unfortunate and ill timed that they'd happened to have had sex the very night before she'd woken up, puking her guts out badly enough to have eventually warranted an emergency room visit for a much needed fluid IV.
Talk about unfair...
"Well...for what it's worth, I understand that reality check at a young age. Minus the food poisoning plot twist," He cast her a small lopsided smile.
"I figured you would," She chuckled, "I can also math. It happened. Completely out of left field. His mother, God bless her, first thing out of that woman's mouth when he told her was, 'I knew this was going to happen when you moved down there with her.' Like 'Um, no, Barb, we actually weren't being irresponsible.' And my dad..." She snorted, "He thought Sid was a deadbeat. I mean, to be fair, he didn't exactly present himself the best at that time either."
"I can imagine."
"So there he is, skinny jeans, with his deep v-shirt, chrome skull ring and a metal bracelet with some sort of...octopus on it, looking like a punk ass dude. Oh yeah and the side lip ring. I don't really know what that was about. I mean honestly, for a man who hates all men's jewelry as much as he does now, he certainly rocked his fair share of it as a teen." She mused aloud.
"Ah, yes. The mid 2000s 'I'm going to knock up your daughter and then most likely disappear' starter pack."
"Yeah that's pretty much what my dad assumed. He wanted me to just move back home and leave Sid there. Of course it didn't help that he told my dad to blow him when my dad was going all Gordon Ramsey on him." Helga then chuckled thinking about how the two had gotten along just fine ever since in-spite of the rough start, "Anyway, to date, its the most expensive illness I've ever had."
"What is it they say? It costs two-hundred and fifty thousand dollars to raise a child to adulthood?"
Helga snorted, "I believe it. The quarter million dollar bad salad. Luckily his school was a year, so he graduated first and thankfully had a good job in place immediately."
"When did you get married?"
"Uh...Zoey was around two-two and a half. He came home with a ring and asked and...I said okay."
Arnold laughed, "Man comes home with a ring and you just say, 'okay'?"
At that, Helga also chucked and shrugged, fully realizing that it probably sounded strange, "Laugh all you want, but it's kind of how we rolled."
"So how does it end up here? I mean, most young couples in your position wouldn't have made it past the kiddo stage, but you did," Arnold finished his glass of wine, "Sorry, that was very forward of me. Alcohol make me very bold."
But Helga simply waved him off, "So the entire time I was in school, I worked part-time for the builder that I do now. When I graduated with my BA in English lit I fully expected to start teaching high school."
"Oh wow."
"Yeah. And well I did, and after one single year, and feeling like I wanted to blow my brains out I realized that teaching...was not for me. So, I went back to work at my current job, and started moving up. They sent me to get my builder's license and then put me in the position that I'm in now. In the middle of all that we had an ectopic miscarriage," She said before she even realized she had. Dumb wine.
Arnold frowned, thinking he kind of knew what that was from a friend of a friend's wife, "I'm sorry to hear that."
But Helga absently waved him off. She hated people feeling bad for her, no matter the circumstance, "Hard to mourn something so fleeting."
"Did you get food poisoning again?"
She snorted, "No. We wanted another one. I did end up in the ER again. I thought I had appendicitis. Turned out it was just my fallopian tube rupturing and I was bleeding out internally."
"Shit..."
"Right? One emergency surgery later and I only have one now and the whole thing was probably for the best because Sid had just gotten another job making stupid money welding bridge infrastructure. And we were planning to move to Seattle to be a little closer to home but not really. And...then his new job became more and more travel and then eventually, he was traveling about five months out of the year."
"Holy crap, where to?"
"Uh, up and down the west coast mostly."
"That sounds horrible."
"For you and me maybe but, he somehow doesn't mind it."
"I just don't see how living out of...I'm assuming a hotel for weeks on end could be enjoyable."
"I don't either. I think the guaranteed change in scenery is what appeals to him most."
"I guess, but...I mean, that's kind of a single man's career if I'm being bluntly honest."
"Oh it totally is. But no matter how much I pointed that out, he was unwilling to find something that didn't require travel, his excuse always being that we'd have to cut back because he'd take a huge pay cut. Which was a bullshit excuse because neither of us are spendthrifts, much less living some extravagant lifestyle. After awhile I became a work widow and the drift slowly started from there."
"I guess distance doesn't always make the heart grow fond."
"Some distance, yes. It is good for the soul. Long term distance...it makes you start to notice what other couples are enjoying that you aren't. Like...family time, shared responsibilities, dates, and...sex on a regular basis," She sighed before lifting an eyebrow in thought, "Though...divorce has done diddly squat for any of that I suppose," She muttered.
"Those are all things that I think a lot of people take for granted."
"They are, and after awhile, that person begins to feel more like a roommate, instead of a love interest," Helga exhaled and finished her wine before dropping her arm and twirling the empty glass around with her hand, "I just... I don't know...slowly started mentally checking out of the marriage because I was alone so much. He definitely noticed, but what he couldn't notice was the fact that he'd mostly checked out too because of his job. His solution to fix things was, 'Let's have another baby!'"
Arnold grimaced a little, "That's the worst solution possible."
"It was. And I was so flabbergasted that he'd even suggest something like that, that I slapped him."
"I believe it."
"I mean the audacity...knowing that I was already working full time and raising our one kid practically by myself half the damn time at that point. Then he suggested that I quit my job and stay home...like that was going to solve the problem of him being gone all of the time. Anyway, we separated after that and after talking about it, we mutually filed for the divorce. So now, here I am. The company I work for has an office in Hillwood too and...the cost of living is less here than in Seattle so...even though I didn't really want to come back here, it made financial sense."
"Did he stay in Seattle?"
"Yeah. He is still living in our old house," Helga then lightly laughed, "Or getting mail there. He's there no more than he's ever been I suppose." She then sat back in her chair, wearing a goofy little grin, "So...there you have it. Sorry if you were expecting some juicy infidelity or whatever. Fortunately Sid's only affair was with his job and we still get along just fine."
Arnold shook his head, "Nah. I guess if a divorce has to happen, that's one of the better ways for it to happen I suppose."
"It is. I mean...we made the conscious decision to split up because we didn't want to grow to be resentful of one another. And because of that, it wasn't contentious. We've never had any court outlines and crap like that. Hell...I still have access to his bank accounts."
"You're positive you're divorced?" Arnold teased. Helga's eyebrows rose. The joke wasn't lost on her. It was just that at times, she questioned it herself. On paper she was. Mentally she was. Emotionally she was. Yet, some days it felt odd that she and Sid were still each others go-to phone call on stressful days, were each others emergency contacts, each others insurance beneficiaries, still had access to each others financial information, or...the fact that, even though she'd moved to Hillwood, they were occasionally still sleeping together.
Which had been about the size of her marriage for the last few years anyway. Ironic, she supposed, though Helga thought it proved that she just needed more friends and...perhaps a boyfriend more than anything.
"Yeah," She chuckled, "It's only because we split Zoey's things. It's easier for me to just grab what I need out of his account when I need it versus having him reimburse me later. Though since she lives with me full time and I get the joys of attitudes, tempers and discipline...he insists on picking up more of the tab than me," She shrugged and sighed, "I got tired of arguing about it."
"So, I've had just enough to drink that I'm going to play devil's advocate here. Also I'm nosy," Arnold smirked back, "Let's say he quit traveling. Would getting back together be in the cards?"
Helga took a deep breath before sighing, "I don't think so."
Arnold's mouth down turned into a subtle frown, "What would be stopping you if the long term distance was removed?"
"Because at the end of the day...I think we had run our course. I know that sounds weird, but I don't know of any other way to describe it. Was there love? Yes. And mentally, he'll be in my life forever because we share some...experiences that are forever bonding. He was a great husband. He's a wonderful father. At one time we couldn't have been separated by anything, but...by the end...we both realized that we were just existing in the marriage."
"Wow..."
"I'm sorry, you were expecting some quick answer and I fell off into a long winded ramble."
"No. Don't ever apologize. It was a very mature answer for somebody who has obviously grown a lot in a decade."
"I'm not normally this loose lipped but, I too have had just enough to drink to feel chatty."
"I hear you. Does he call a lot?"
"Usually every other day if he can," She looked back at him, "He's a great dad, he's just never been around as much as he should be. Not all of it has been his fault, but it is something he's going to have to reconcile with her whenever the time comes," Helga inhaled, giving her guest an inquiring look, "So, Arnold, I showed you mine, now show me yours," When he chuckled she also did, "Alcohol makes me talkative but it also emboldens me, if you care to remember."
"Oh, I remember," He chortled, grabbing the bottle between them and refilling both of their glasses before sighing, "Well, her name was Emily...and she was her own worst enemy," Arnold began running the finger around the lip of his wine glass. "And me being me...I tried to save her from herself."
"Classic you." Helga tipped her glass at him before bringing it to her parted lips.
"Yeah well...me being classic me, I also walked right past about two dozen red flags trying to be a white knight for her."
"No, that doesn't sound like you at all," Helga smirked, "I'm kidding, but it does sound like you have a story."
"Oh I do. I met her at school, my first semester."
"Where'd you end up going?"
"Mizzou."
"Gotcha."
"So, more specifically I met her at a restaurant that she was a waitress at. She was three years older than me and...a functioning alcoholic. Which is something that really isn't a concept as a nineteen, twenty year old."
"Actually, that is so true. They just liked to party. That's what you call it at that age."
"Exactly. She was the first person to show me around town and what not and we ended up dating, because she was pretty awesome...most of the time. I ended up discovering that she had a pretty nasty problem with prescription drug use too. Like Xanax...and crap like that," Arnold took a sip of wine, "Things I would have ran away from but...I just knew I could save her. I mean she seemed like a good person."
"Oh no..."
"Yeah. Needless to say, instead of me saving her, I just started getting sucked into her her mess. Then Payton happened. She wanted an abortion immediately. I finally convinced her not to, though secretly I was thinking that a miscarriage might would be a blessing, which really haunts me now."
"For what it's worth...Sid and I had similar thoughts as you."
"It comes from fear, I think."
"Oh, absolutely it does. When we heard her little heartbeat for the first time though, that was it. We were in love."
"Same." Arnold smiled, "So...this is going to sound crappy but, at that point I was totally done with her. I just...didn't care for that lifestyle and well, she was a strong lesson in you can't save somebody that doesn't want to be saved. But I still stayed with her just to keep an eye on her because last thing I wanted was my baby to have fetal alcohol syndrome or something." His eyebrows popped higher as he inhaled, "And obviously I was expecting to, you know, co-parent with her at the very least even though I didn't want to be with her anymore," The bearded guy paused for a fleeting moment before, "She abandoned me three days after Payton was born at the hospital."
"Oh my God..."
Arnold nodded, "We were leaving and she told me she wanted to run to the cafeteria to get something to drink and...I never saw her again."
"Are you sure she's even alive?"
"Oh yeah. She blocked me from calling or texting her."
"I don't even know what to say to that."
"Shocking right? It gets worse...I hadn't told my parents that I had a child on the way."
Helga's eyes widened, pushing her brow high on her forehead, "Crimeny, Shortman. What was your end goal there?"
"I don't know," Arnold shook his head, "I had no goal. I was just...I didn't know how to tell them. The shame was too much," He then waved his hand, "I wasn't ashamed of Payton, and I never have been. I...guys like me didn't date party girls and certainly didn't get girls pregnant. And I'd done all of that and I knew how disappointed in me they'd be."
"How did you tell them?"
"I...broke down and called my mom from the hospital in complete tears, told her everything and...being the complete saint that she is, she never berated me. She caught the next plane down, and stayed with me until the semester ended."
"Wow...so did you ever hear from homegirl again?"
Arnold laughed, "No. I never bothered trying to contact her either."
"Really?"
Her friend nodded and then shrugged, "It occurred to me that if that was the lengths she was willing to go to in order to skirt parenthood then Payton and I would be better off with her out of our lives anyway."
"So you don't have any clue where she is huh?"
"No, I do. Only because I talked to a friend of hers a few years back and apparently she has gotten her life straightened out now. She's living in Phoenix and is married to an older guy."
"Do you truly have your life straightened out when you've got kid in the world that you've been avoiding responsibility for, for ten years?"
Arnold half smiled at her and again shrugged, "Trust me, I spent my fair share of time being bitter about it, until one day I realized that...she didn't want to be a parent. She was pretty upfront about that. I was the one that wanted Payton, not her. How mad can I truly be? Besides, I have a happy kid who doesn't know any different than her and I so...there isn't anything worth being mad about."
"Has Payton ever asked?"
"No," Arnold shook his head, "I'll probably give it a few more years before I maybe broach the subject with her, but I don't know what there is to gain from explaining Emily's actions to her."
"Yeah, I get that," Helga agreed while taking a swig from her wine glass, "Man, that is not at all the story I imagined behind your single parent status."
At that, Arnold snorted, "Do I want to know?"
"I thought you were probably widowed."
"Widowed?" He chuckled, "What about me looks widowed? Is it the turtleneck?" He pointed to his sweater.
Helga snorted, "Yes it's definitely the brooding Hallmark turtleneck," She teased before shaking her head and lifting her shoulder in a half shrug, "I don't know...it just seemed like..."
"What? Like I could never go off to college, link up with a troubled party girl, get her pregnant, not tell my parents and then get abandoned with a newborn four hundred miles from home at the age of 20?" Helga cast him a bit of a sheepish look before shrugging in agreement with him, to which he lightly chuckled, his eyes moving to his glass as he stopped smoothing his thumbs around the rim, "Yeah, I'm beginning to wonder if I peaked in high-school too."
Helga rolled her eyes, "Oh, I wouldn't say that." Though the whole thing did make her realize just how much she'd lucked out in turning her own lemons into lemonade. She and Sid had been very lucky to have made their situation work for as long as they did. She couldn't imagine having not had him and being thrown to the wolves like Arnold had been. "Seems to me like you've done a pretty decent job turning lemons into lemonade like the rest of us."
A/N: There! It's all out in the open! What they each have been up to since they last saw one another at Rhonda's party. I hope it was worth the wait.