Rocket to the Moon
Chapter Seventeen
Greg
. . .
Sorry it took so long. First part was written almost a month ago. Last part just the day before yesterday. It was written in a hurry. I hope haven't forgetten anything important. Let's go recalling where were we.
. . .
Knock knock knock
Grace blinked at the sudden sight of Arnold knocking on Helga's door. She arched a brow turning to the secretary who had the decency to show an apologetic look. A thud was heard followed by a grumble. Grace stood. Arnold pushed open the door and disappeared inside.
"Geez! Do you want to give me a heart attack or what?" It was heard, the last part was muffled by the closing door.
The stunned secretary turned to Grace, who raised her brow. 'Since when Arnold knocks on her door without addressing to you in first place' she was about to ask her when another door was opened.
Grace turned back to see Dick holding open his door to a red-haired girl. They stepped into the hall and after a quick interchange they shook hands. Grace was getting close feeling invited by Dick's nod.
"Oh, I almost forgot," the girl spoke again just before turning around "Do you think I could talk to Miss Pataki now?"
The cordial expression disappeared from the masculine face. Grace wriggled her brows at him, taking advantage of the fact that the girl had eyes only for him.
"Why don't we ask her secretary?" Dick pointed towards Kitty the efficient, who stood again shaking her head and starting a lecture about appointments and whatnot.
"Why she has to bring Helga up when everything was going on so fiiiiiiinnnee?" Grace mumbled under her breathe, mockingly. Dick snorted.
"Tell me about it!" he replied. He asked what she was doing over there and she replied she waited for Henry. Then they waited until the reporter scheduled an appointment to the end of next week, then came to say goodbye again, red-faced, and walked to the elevator. The sixty –some years old woman turned to her companion.
"Don't think I didn't realize you were flirting shamelessly!" she slapped his arm playfully.
"Who? Me?" he opened his eyes pretending offense.
"Yes, you! You totally did!" she exclaimed. "Playing that game of cat and mouse! Gee, you're so mean! " she shoved him again. He shook his head dismissively but Grace saw the awkward smile that showed he knew she'd caught him red-handed. He shrugged then and got close, taking her hand and bringing it up to his lips.
"Don't be jealous," he mumbled seductively against her skin "You know I always come back to you."
Grace giggled as she let herself be led to his office. It was pure bluster but she enjoyed it nonetheless. The girls must be seething. And the man whose arm rested on her shoulders smelled deliciously. She suspired. If only she were thirty years younger.
. . .
. . .
Startled, he pushed the door open to hear Helga's cursing. She was leaning down to pull at her chair. Her hair was a mess. Arnold hurried to her side as she tugged at her clothes and combed her blond tresses with her fingers.
"What happened?" he asked, helping her to put the chair straight.
"What do you think it happened?!" she countered; pointing to the chair "This shit fell over!"
"The chair?!" the blond boy asked with surprise. It was a heavy swivel chair… with a five star base "How?"
"How?!" that seemed to make it. She snapped. "How could I know?!"She almost yelled "What do I look like Arnold? A chair engineer?"
Arnold crouched to take a look to the thing but she took him from the back of his shirt and pointed to the other chair.
"Go take your seat!" she grumbled, shoving him hard. Arnold stumbled. "What are you doing here anyway?" As he rounded the table a strange feeling showered over him… Relieve? Joy?! Arnold frowned. Just by seeing her acting like her old self?! God, I am weird! He hid a chuckle. Why she was being so touchy anyway? He looked up. The frown made him travel all the way back to the old playground; to see the bully in pink. It was funny. He kind of missed her.
"What were you doing?" he couldn't help but giggle "Man, it's a swivel chair!"
Helga grumbled as fell heavily into her seat.
"Thinking," she snorted "Duh!"
"Thinking?"
"I think, Football Head, think. That's how I work. And when I think - or work- I lean back in the chair, see?" she actually did it "Maybe I pushed too hard, I don't know, maybe there's a bump in the carpet…" she leaned to look at the floor.
Arnold watched her as she looked for a probably imaginary bump in the carpet. Her cheeks were flushing pink. What was she doing before he knocked the door, he wondered again, and then frowned. Seeing her like that he couldn't help but imagine having her all sweaty and flushed in his arms. With her soft hair all over her face like it did a minute ago. Alright… he had to admit it. This was weird to a completely new level.
"Anyway," she started again looking up to see him. Her eyes looked different, bluer. Arnold took an intake, holding her gaze and leaning comfortably in his chair. "What do you want?" she asked.
"Geez!" he chuckled "Why are you being so rude?"
"I have some work to do Football Head. Tons of work actually," she started to rummage through the papers on her desk "and you're here making me lose my precious time." She pouted "What is so important that you couldn't tell me by phone?"
"Sorry," he felt guilty all of a sudden but the guiltiness lasted only a few seconds. Helga was an expert at mortifying people. But then, eyeing her he realized she looked actually mortified. "Are you alright?"
"Hell, yeah!" she chirped with impatience "For God's sake, are you going to tell me what the fuck you want or not?"
He nodded.
"I just wanted to tell you that I'm coming..." in sight of her confusion he added for good measure "to yours and Rhonda party."
"Oh, that" she finally nodded "Alright," then she leaned back in her chair and looked at him with a half-smile "Seems that that pretty girl of yours took her time to grant her permission, huh?" she cocked her head.
"I don't need her permission!" Arnold scoffed. She chuckled.
"What she's afraid of?" Helga ignored him and went on, scratching absentmindedly her collarbone, pulling aside her pink blouse and exposing the skin of her shoulder. "We trying to steal her football headed boyfriend?" More and more skin with every second...
"Gah!"
Keep doing that and you may get it, he thought, leaving his seat as a way to stop gawking at her. Dream, Football Head, dream… he shook his head. His inner Helga had a thing for mocking him. At least she feels comfortable enough in my presence to scratch her shoulder.
As he walked to the door he turned his head to look at her. She was turning on her swivel chair following his path, leaning back. It was true, she pushed back too hard. Maybe he understood now why she fell over in the first place.
"You leaving?" she raised her brows.
"You say you're busy" he shrugged his shoulders "Do I need to bring something? To the party?"
"Mmmm" Helga hummed, looking suddenly lethargic "Your drinks?"
"Alright," he nodded "What about yours?"
"Rhon-Rhon uses to take charge of the drinks…. Food's on me."
"What are we having?"
"Sushi… Chinese…"
"Not Indian, right?" he opened his eyes showing worry.
She smirked "Not Indian, I swear," she raised her palm.
"Alright… I'm looking forward to next Friday" he spoke again once reaching the door.
"Yay!" Helga raised both thumbs but she was already looking for something on her desk. Arnold closed the door. He started to think about the kind of job Helga actually realized. She was right. Her work has a lot to do with thinking. His, in other hand, was something like that, but most of his job was to put in paper his…
"Who do you think you are going straight to Helga's door like that?!"
Arnold blinked. Kitty, Helga's secretary was standing right in front of him; arms crossed over her chest and an angry look in her eyes. He frowned. The woman used to be nicer.
"She… she texted me. Asked me to come over."
"Oh, really?! Just like that?! She asked and you came?"
Kitty wanted to pick a fight, which was a novelty to him. He didn't know how to react to her belligerence. "Mmmm, yes?"
"Arnold!" both Arnold and Kitty raised their sights to see a harassed-looking Deb walking to her office with both hands occupied with a briefcase each. "Come over here!"
Arnold forgot about Kitty and hurried to Deb side without hesitation. He helped her with her laptop case and followed to her office. A couple of minutes later he left the room after being entrusted with a bunch of extra work and the impression of having being charged with a sullenness that didn't belong to him. Grumbling, he reached his desk to left the papers but then walked right to Greg's private room.
. . .
. . .
"Have a minute?" he asked from the door. Greg raised his sight and nodded.
"What's up?" his friend asked. Arnold took the seat in front of him and exhaled. He didn't know how to start. Didn't want to be nosy but he didn't actually know much about the boss of them both, about her demons. The girl had been acting different lately and it worried him. Old habits die hard, after all. Greg listened to him without interruptions, but without raising his sight from his work, truth be told.
"Well, Arnold," Greg finally left his chair and walked to the bookshelf that was located at the corner of his office. "I don't know if I am the best person to tell you something but I guess someone has to," he paused "-and since you're becoming someone, let's say, close…" he paused again and looked at him in the eye. "But this is only for your ears, right?"
"Of course," he nodded "What is it?"
"Today is… I don't know if you'd already heard something about this day but…." He paused again and walked to his window to look outside for a while "I think I need to go back… to bring some background." After a short pause he started again "Here at Mueller we have a very close group of people, I guess you already saw it. I mean, people above." He pointed to the ceiling "Henry is the owner; Dick's the nephew, Helga's the daughter…"
"Helga's not family." Arnold interrupted.
"For practical purposes, she 'kind of' is. Well, -" Greg's quotation marks in the air called Arnold's attention but he let go "Deb is something of the like. She's…" he pouted "to Henry' eyes, she's the girl who was destined to marry Roger."
"What?" the affirmation called all of Arnold's attention "Were they together?"
"No. In fact they were never a couple. Deb was this girl, you know, who grown up by Roger's side; who was always in love with him. The gardener's daughter. His sidekick, his playground buddy. Roger was always dense, oblivious… he never realized. Or maybe he realized but who knows? Maybe he also liked her but didn't know what to do…" Greg shrugged his shoulders showing the meaninglessness of the any possibility.
"That's so…"
"Cliché?"
"I was going to say 'sad' but yeah,"
"Well, it was sad." The story made Arnold recall another one, in fact; a very similar one, a lot closer to home. "I guess death always is." Well, excluding that.
"He never paid her any attention, then? Never reciprocated her feelings?"
"Well, she was always his best friend. I remember he relied on her a lot. They called each other all the time, but other than that..."
Arnold nodded.
"Today is his birthday, I guess" he interjected. Greg shook his head.
"The anniversary of his death." he corrected.
"How long it's been?"
"Thirteen years."
"He worked in here?"
Greg snorted.
"I could say yes, but actually he didn't. Roger was a rebel. He used to come for a while and then fought with his father and left, disappearing for long periods. This happened several times until it became boring. Henry wasn't the best father back then; he was very strict, controlling. His early death destroyed him… Mrs. Mueller, Deb…. It's really a sad story."
"How old was he?"
Greg shrugged "About my age…. Should be forty by now."
"How it happened?"
"A plane crash in Australia." Greg said without emotion "It was a hard time for everybody. He was so young. Life is unfair."
Arnold leaned back and took a deep intake. He could only imagine the extent of such unfortunate event. The way it affected everybody.
"What about Dick? It was hard for him too?"
"Dick wasn't around back then." Greg continued "He's younger. Must have been in college or so. They weren't close, the Muellers. I think they never actually talked to each other out of familiar gatherings if so."
Greg went on. It seemed that once starting it was easier to go on unraveling the secrets and mysteries of the family. After the ill-fated event Deb got closer to the grieving parents, but eventually she struggled to get over it and went out to find her significant other. Outwardly at least. Less than two years later she had married and divorced Brad Tilly.
It was about then that Dick arrived to the circle. His uncle and aunt showered him with love, gifts, attentions, and - of course -responsibilities, but Dick fought against being regarded as Roger replacement. All the excessive attention from the family, all that pressure, he didn't know how to take it; it wasn't easy for him; he wasn't ready. So he merely humored them with being present and staying at the enterprise to work along them, but it was all he was willing to do.
Working along was something he did, and did well. Of course from the beginning everybody knew Dick wasn't just another employee. His was an intensive training to eventually become the head of Mueller Enterprises after his uncle's term, which, by the way, had been always marked by his and Glen Brennan's power struggles. Amongst other things, to Henry Dick meant continuity; the perpetuation of his legacy.
But this idea prevailed until the arriving of Helga.
Henry had to his favor that neither Glen nor Jerry, the principal investors, had an heir on their own. Jerry had two daughters who didn't care about business. They had married to European guys and lived abroad. The same happened to Glen. But his single daughter main interest was jet set, social life and receiving on time form the company a check with her revenues.
When Helga Pataki arrived no one imagined she'd become a menace to the plan. She'd wormed steadily her way into the family circle and became someone with power in a relative short period of time. She was willing to receive all the love and attention that Dick despised. She was craving it. The Muellers fell flat for her charms and sweetness. Everybody pegged her for a gold-digger but time had proved that she was authentic.
"You know?" Arnold finally spoke again "When we were kids Helga was never the sweetest thing around."
"Figures," Greg snorted "Well, I'll never daresay she actually is." he leaned back in his chair "Of course I don't mean she's a bad person. Quite the opposite. I think she's in fact one of the bigger assets of this company."
When Arnold inquired about Greg's opinion regarding the succession, a topic of conversation that still could be heard in the hallways, his boss only shrugged his shoulders.
"I know anything about it and it's none of my business." He stated "Regardless…"
Regardless, Greg thought Dick was an excellent operative but his understanding of the big panorama was far from being the best. Helga was really good at that, but her experience in Operations was null. He guessed it was complicated. They both made a great team together, but everyone by themselves…
"I guess I'm just happy that is not me the one who is eventually gonna take the big decision."
Arnold couldn't agree any more. He decided to change the subject.
"You mentioned something about Helga being like a daughter to Henry. That means you don't share the opinion that they're a couple?"
Greg took an intake.
"Look, I know what it looks like, but I'm almost sure they aren't."
"Why are you so sure?"
"Because I've known them for years. I understand that future is something that worries Henry. I mean, his legacy, all that he's constructed for years, for his family, for himself, for his name. That's important. And of course people in the position of Henry want to have an heir. He had it once, but he's doesn't exist anymore. Beyond all the pain for his lost lies his pain because Roger isn't here now. There's not heir anymore. Then Dick comes into the picture. But Dick is not exactly what a father would like; he's cold, hardhearted…. Helga fits the mold more properly but..."
"But Helga is not family."
"Yeah." Greg took air "I know Henry loves her dearly. Helga loves him too." He paused "Helga, you know, precisely Helga…" he laughed softly "It's like an irony of fate. And yet…"
"And yet…?"
"Well, I must confess that … I have some theories of my own.
"Really? Theories as?"
"It's kinda complicated." He exhaled long "For example, everybody thinks Henry is wooing Helga so she could –eventually- give him a new heir, but I think different."
"What do you think?"
"I think Henry pretends he's wooing Helga to give Dick a warning."
"A warning?" Arnold blinked. "If Henry have an heir on his own then Dick can say goodbye to the inheritance?"
"Well... basically. But it also can work as a…" Greg made a halt and leaned back in his chair, taking a lungful. "Nah, it's too far fetching."
"What do you mean?"
"Nothing. I guess what you said is more likely." he exhaled "I don't know why we are talking about this. Is not as if it's something they pay us for doing, anyway"
"So you think it has everything to do with that? Dick settling down? Getting a wife and a heir of his own"
"Kinda..." Greg shrugged "Or compromising with the family and stop hanging around."
"Hanging around?" Arnold was lost again.
"Hanging around… rubbing elbows with the other side of the table?" probably Arnold's face showed his confusion because he went on "You know, flirting with Glen and his war struggles."
"I think you lost me."
"Let's say that if Dick takes Glen's side then they both could match Henry's power. They together can put Henry in an awkward situation."
"And?"
"Having Helga by his side should make Dick realize any effort would be pointless."
"Because Helga made him strong?"
"Well, there's also Jerry. But Helga helps a lot. As I said before, Helga is an important asset of the company." He said with deep conviction.
"You think Helga's aware of this all?"
"Come on!" Greg chortled "She's not full of hope, seated at a bay window, waiting for her prince charming - that's for sure!"
Arnold nodded. Greg has a point, he thought.
"So everything has to do with power?"
"Of course everything has to do with power... and politics." Greg laughed, somewhat coldly. "Money rules the world."
"You're cold" Arnold stated, seeing his grin. He got up.
"I'm a lawyer. I'm just practical."
. . .
. . .
"You're not wearing that, are you?"
"What?" Arnold turned around to see his image on the mirror, his attention fixed on the white shirt "Why not? It's a nice shirt."
"You're going to downtown; to a goddamn penthouse in Park Avenue!" Claire walked to the closet and started rummaging around. A second later she put out a dark green shirt that he didn't even remember he possessed. She dusted it off and smelled it although the shirt was clean. "This one and your black slacks should do it."
"Isn't it too formal?"
"A get together with your 'fancy' girl friends?" she quoted. He had used the term before. "Do I need to say more?"
"Well," Arnold started. The thing was that he didn't intend to compete. His aim was having a nice evening reconnecting with an old friend, with two old friends actually. One of them he hadn't seen in a while; the other one wasn't anything else but a coworker to whom he only knew a few personal things. Other than the meeting at Luna Nueva, there had not been time to actually reconnect. They talked about work, business ideologies, and new friends, but nothing personal. "they both know I'm not that… affluent…"
"It's not about being loaded. It's a about having style." Claire cut him off. "Remember Helga at the park the other day? She didn't lose the flair for a second, not even when she's walking an ugly dog…. And you say the other one…"
"Rhonda…"
"Rhonda…right," Claire continued as she placed his black pants on the bed "is a fashionista who happens to work at Vogue?!" she raised her brows "Believe me, you're not overdressed"
"Alright," Arnold nodded deciding on giving her the benefit of the doubt. Besides, it was a nice outfit, now that he had time to think twice. He took off his white shirt and jeans and started to put on the new clothes all under the Claire's critical look.
"What?" he spat. He didn't like the way she was looking at him.
"Are you gaining weight?"
"Why?" he turned down to see his abdomen "Am I fat?"
"Not fat… but you look… different." Claire pouted. "I mean, look at your arms…"
"I know" Arnold grumbled. Maybe he was overworking at the gym. He wasn't that tall and muscles may be too much for him, too noticeable. Maybe he should ask the trainer again.
"But you know? In fact you don't look half bad. It's just…"she hesitated.
"Different?" he asked, making a gesture.
He turned to the mirror to see his image as he buttoned his pants and zipped them up. He looked nice, sober, and the extra muscles in his arms were actually flattering. Claire threw him his brand new belt.
"Your shoes are polished, right?"
"Yeah," he frowned and turned to see her through the mirror. "Why are you being so… understanding?"
Claire snorted.
"Arnold," she started "You got a friend who lives at a penthouse in Park Avenue. She invited you to a party. Only you, her and her BFF." She almost rolled her eyes "We're in the same boat. What else do you want me doing? Ironing your socks? I'll do it for sure."
"No! For god's sake!" he scoffed, giving a step back.
"I'm sure you'd do the same for me!" she retorted.
"Well, when you put it that way." He shrugged. He definitively would do that. They were a team, after all, partners. Although to say the truth he didn't know how he'd feel if she'd ask him for advice to get all primped up before meeting a guy who lived in the nicest part of the town. Even when he wasn't the jealous type... Better not thinking about it.
Arnold took an extra glance to the mirror and liking what he saw he took his jacket and wallet and left the bedroom.
"So I look good?" he asked her when they reached the kitchen. She nodded.
"Good-looking," she bit her lip "kinda stocky..."
"Stocky?" his face fell "You mean fat?" he walked back to the room and reached the mirror.
"No, no fat… but not not-fat either." Claire came behind him, a small smile on her face.
"You said stocky!" he pointed out.
"Stocky means strong… solid-built…" she grinned
"But no fat?"
"No, you're not fat. You're handsome," she blew him a kiss "just the way I like."
He saw his image once more time before exiting the room.
"But no fat, right?"
Claire grinned "Are you taking the car?" she asked from behind him.
"No… Helga said the host uses to do the… driving back" Claire mumbled something to herself. He ignored her and took his keys "Well, I think I'm leaving"
"Alright" she came up to peck his lips "You're gonna tell me all the gossip when you're back, huh?"
Arnold smiled nervously and let out a hesitant "I guess," when the doorbell rang. Claire slapped his ass and giggled as she went to check the door. He hurried back to the bedroom to see if he didn't forget anything. A last look to the mirror didn't hurt anyone, right? No fat, alright. He left the room realizing he was getting nervous.
Brenda walked in front of him in her way to the kitchen carrying two heavy-looking plastic bags.
"What is it?" he asked
"Claire didn't tell you?" she replied "We're having our own party"
Brenda wriggled her brows as she took bottles and other stuff out of the bags.
"What? Did you think you're the only one who was having a party?" Claire added.
"Is someone else coming?" he asked with caution.
"Gossip… when you return…" Brenda grinned.
"Nah!" Claire dismissed him with a wave of her hand "It's only the two of us. What could be more fun?" she asked from the doorway. She was keeping the door open for him. Arnold took her hand as he reached her.
"You two aren't inviting guys to come over while I'm absent, are you?"
Claire looked at him innocently and then rolled her eyes.
"Look who's talking!" she giggled "Arnold Shortman, you are the one who's having two dolls to yourself tonight!"
And with that she pushed him out and closed the door.
Arnold gripped the iron rail. He felt tempted to push the door open and make clear that what she implied wasn't the case, not at all, but then remembered she already knew it.
And he also knew she wasn't going to bring someone else to their home. It was just she and Brenda. They both alone could have the best of the times together. He walked down the steps and up the street. There was a liquor store just around the corner. He bought two six-packs and a bottle of tequila. Then he had problems handling the change. Two coins went rolling across the tiled floor and the notes didn't want to get into his wallet. He chuckled to himself. Why he was so nervous? His hands were sweating for God's sake!
He breathed deeply a couple of times enjoying the freshness of the air that touched his face as he walked due south. Why he was getting so nervous, he wondered again. Was it from meeting Rhonda after so many years without seen her? He didn't think so. It was as if he had been told he was going to meet Lila, Nadine, Ruth or any or the girls from grade school. It'd be nice, but that was it.
Was it from seeing Helga? In a private environment? At her own home? In a place where nothing and no one work –related should be discussed, only private, personal things. He remembered then how Rhonda used to be the gossip queen and a chill ran down his back. He must be ready to disclose some personal stuff if he expected to learn something new from them. He should be prepared.
But in other hand, what he really expected was… he paused. It probably was to see her, to observe her. To know if she also felt he way he did. If she was also attracted to him, if she felt nervous in his presence. In the privacy of her place, even if Rhonda was present, it'd be easier to find out a hint, clue of what her feelings towards him were. He wanted to bond, to connect. It was about time to leave out doubts.
For what? his mind asked.
A horn was heard followed by a screech of tires. A taxi had stopped at the corner and he ran to catch it before someone else beat him.
.
I don't own Hey Arnold! Craig Bartlett and Viacom does, so far I know. Why paramount doesn't do The Jungle Movie already?!
I don't own any TM mentioned here.
I apologize again for the long waiting. I'll do my best to update in two weeks. Rhonda will appear in next chapter.
Thank you all for reading and special thanks to CarlinJ86, Jose Ramiro, Nep2uune, Presley Rox and a guest. I love to receive your commentaries.
See you soon.
May 23rd, 2015