A/N: Sorry for taking so long to update all, but my health has gotten worse.
Chapter Seven: "The Hardest Words To Say"
What have I got to do to make you love me
What have I got to do to make you care
What do I do when lightning strikes me
And I wake to find that you're not there
What do I do to make you want me
What have I got to do to be heard
What do I say when its all over
And sorry seems to be the hardest word
It's sad, so sad
It's a sad, sad situation
And it's getting more and more absurd
It's sad, so sad
Why can't we talk it over
Oh it seems to me
That sorry seems to be the hardest word
What do I do to make you love me
What have I got to do to be heard
What do I do when lightning strikes me
What have I got to do
What have I got to do
When sorry seems to be the hardest word
From "Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word" by Elton John
Her day began with a loud clap of thunder that pierced the very core of her soul, waking her from the happiest dream she'd had since...well, she couldn't quite remember the last time and then began to wonder if she'd ever had one, knowing her memories were so hazy these days that perhaps she was kidding herself about that 'happy' part.
Limbs stretched in all directions, shaking slumber from her slowly. She wasn't in a rush to get out of bed just yet, not when the tiniest sliver of a dream remained behind closed eyes. Something that had started out as Todd's belt biting into her until she felt she was wearing a mixed bundle of emotions as a thin bloody second skin had turned into tender kisses from Arnold's lips and painfully loving licks as he tongued each scar carefully until she wanted to scream, full of hurt but also full of desire.
Peeking one eye open, she looked out the window to witness the gray clouds, feeling every bit of the gloom and doom outside. Groaning, she propped herself into as well of a sitting position as she could manage in her condition and mumbled accordingly, "Perfect."
Last night's brief phone call with his voice filled her mind, and she caught herself nearly smiling. "What's wrong with me? It's not as if that was the best conversation we've ever had, so why does it make me feel so...so...?" Words held onto the tip of her tongue, refusing to let go. "I'm as giddy as a freaking schoolgirl now, and all it took was hearing from him again. Really, this is kind of pathetic, Helga."
Giving off a slight snort, she looked down at her protruding belly and sighed. "You know, it helps to have you here, so if anyone asks me why I'm talking to myself, I won't appear so wonderfully crazy." She trailed her right hand over the sensitive area, trying to feel something – anything – at all, but she couldn't. Each time she did this, she told herself that she shouldn't get attached because, after all, Todd could take this away from her, but she couldn't help herself. As distant from any motherly feelings as she felt, she still marveled at the thought of a life growing inside of her, and yet, she was also disgusted with herself for getting pregnant and making herself more permanently attached to Todd.
Couldn't she have waited just a little longer? Then there could have at least been a chance of it being Arnold's.
Well, maybe.
The dream drifted back into her thoughts, along with older memories...memories of the hint of a grin on Todd's handsome face when he learned they were expecting, and of later that night, as he was strangely gentle with her. Even older memories proceeded in tangents: moving into their house, the better times they had in their old apartment, her adventures in learning to cook, their honeymoon, the wedding, the first time they met – each swirling in her head, forcing her to admit that Todd wasn't all bad...forcing her to feel guilty for making that call, for even thinking about dialing the number.
"This is what makes it so hard, see. If Todd was one-hundred percent 'bad guy,' then I wouldn't feel like this, but I can't help feeling sorry for him because he's just as messed up as me. We kind of complement each other, you know?" Her eyes settled on the window again, and she frowned. "It seems like rain is always falling on the days that end up becoming the most important in my life."
Rain fell the day she started preschool – the simple act of kindness in the form of an umbrella over her head and a comment on her bow, signaling the beginning of her rebirth.
Rain fell the day she almost drowned as a flash flood breached the school walls – had Arnold not rescued her and brought her back to life with a panicked cry of "No!"
Rain fell the day Arnold left for San Lorenzo to find his parents, leaving her utterly alone – something she hadn't felt since she was three.
Rain fell the day she ran away to college to escape her past, to escape him...to escape herself.
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Glancing out the window, she sighed in relief, fully satisfied with herself for taking the time to pack and load up the old faded-pink Beetle the previous night because the morning had decided to "bless" her with a full-blown storm. Streaks of lightning lit up the heavens as she took one last look around the room that had served her throughout her childhood and teenage years. The vanity had been cleaned of every last trinket, note, and other incriminating objects. The closet was now bare, too; the volumes of poetry carefully placed in a box labeled "fragile" in bold capital letters written with a permanent marker and her clothes thrown haphazardly into a garbage bag – both sat in the backseat of the car. The last idol she'd made – during the weeks in art class where they were working with clay...the project that only her teacher knew about, and she'd gotten an A on – was now in pieces, littering a metal trashcan.
Had she really meant to break it? Perhaps. Her patience with Arnold was wearing thin which was why she had planned to leave Hillwood for Bellingham early this morning. She'd even said good-bye to Phoebe and Gerald the day before just so she could avoid seeing him.
One part of her wasn't speaking with her anymore as long as she refused to have Arnold see her off.
Another part of her was yelling at her to stop being so stubborn and go to the boarding house because she knew how much she needed to see him in this final moment.
The final part of her was also silent, but only because it understood why she needed to leave without saying good-bye.
Why was she so torn now? She'd calmly explained this to herself last night before falling asleep, and everyone was in agreement. Saying good-bye to him was acknowledging the end of an era. It was accepting that she'd never see him again. It was learning to deny that special piece of her that she'd come to finally embrace – that hopelessly romantic feminine side which she had kept hidden so well...except from him.
She had to deny it now. It was Western Washington for her and the U in Seattle for him. Romance would fizzle – in fact, it already had a few months before when he had given her the famously dreaded "we need to see other people" speech. There was no longer any reason for her to open up that part of her if the person it revolved around wasn't there to feed it.
Something wet slid down her cheek, and automatically, her hand reached up to wipe it away. She'd promised herself no tears, but the overwhelming feeling of despair gripped her. All sense of control left her body as she exhaled, and when she tried to breathe again, her throat was constricted...almost as if something was caught within it.
Like her heart.
Despair turned into panic as she desperately tried to gulp down air, and just as she began to relax, a hand touched her shoulder. "I...I'm f-fine, really," she choked out, thinking it was her father coming out to check on her.
As she turned, blue eyes met green and then darted to her feet as she stood there blushing and muttering, "Shit," over and over.
"You're leaving." There it was, riddled with the sadness she was expecting.
She couldn't look up. Damn, she was so ashamed right now, but still...she just couldn't bring herself to do it. She'd never be able to get in that car and go if she did. "Yeah," she whispered hesitantly.
The grip on her shoulder tightened, and several drops of water hit the pavement. It suddenly dawned on her that the rain had let up a few minutes ago. This wasn't rain. "Why would you do that? Why would you just leave...leave without telling me?" His voice came out so tiny, and she found herself wondering if it had sounded just like this when he had first realized that his parents hadn't returned for him, back when he was a toddler and didn't know that they'd be holed up in the jungles of some small country far away for many years. Had he been this hopeless? Had he been this defeated?
Finally, she forced herself to look at him and was surprised to see desire staring back at her.
No, dammit, she'd spent so much time convincing herself that while maybe this wasn't the right thing to do, it was what she needed to do. All along, she'd been bragging about how independent she was, and that was part of the truth. The other was something she'd come to realize during the latter portion of their half-assed relationship; that she was able to function only because she leaned so much on her love for him, and it was from what she was drawing her strength. As her time in high school came to a close, more and more she'd been wondering if she could survive without him by her side. She didn't know, but deep down, she knew she had to find out.
Shakily, but confidently, she answered, "It's not like I'm enjoying this, idiot. This is something I have to do, Arnold. You know that. You said it yourself – we need to see other people." OK, so that came out more bitterly than she meant.
"I'm not sure. I think I made a mistake when I said that." He took her into his arms, hugging her, and it wasn't long before the smell of Axe and Herbal Essence filled her nose. On any other day, it was enough to bring her to her knees to show her appreciation, but today...
Today, it irritated her. How dare he!
"Criminey, Arnold! Did you think you could just come here, assault my nostrils with that – OK, I admit it – enticing aroma, and I'd just crumble into your lap like some old Southern belle out of a cheesy romance novel?? 'Oh, yes, Arnold, my love! I will follow you to the ends of the world if need be if only you'll say you're mine!'" She pushed him away from her, taking extra care to keep from sending him to the ground...even if she felt he deserved it. A little bit. "Please!! Just because you know I have a soft side doesn't mean you get to abuse it, jackass!"
"Come see the softer side of – OW!" a familiar voice sang to the tune of some stupid old Sears ad, and she whirled around just in time to see her best friend elbow that somewhat obnoxious boyfriend of hers in the ribs. "What the hell, Phoebe??" Gerald grumbled while rubbing his left side.
Phoebe squinted and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Seriously, Gerald, sometimes I--"
"What are you two doing here? We said our good-byes yesterday," Helga interrupted.
Gerald pointed in Arnold's direction. "He invited us."
With God as her witness, she swore the vein over her left eyebrow had to be popping to extreme proportions as she turned back to Arnold. "What? Did you want an audience? Or are they here as part of your ingenious plan to spoil my escape?"
Clapping came from behind her, and then Gerald quipped, "Hey, she finally admits it!"
Gritting her teeth used to be enough of a warning, but these days, Gerald was too stubborn to back down, so she usually had to resort to other ways of getting her point across. Waving her fist at him, she ground out, "Shut up if you know what's good for you."
Phoebe took a step, halfway in front of Gerald. "You only say that because he's right."
"Ha! As if! And it figures that you would run to his defense because he's too chickenshit to face me on his own."
Annoyance was written all over Gerald as he pushed forward and thrust his index finger in her face. "You'd better watch what you say, Blondie. Everyone here knows that you're full of it. You're all bark and no bite when it comes to us." He looked back at Phoebe. "And I can take care of myself," he muttered, and when his girlfriend began to open her mouth, he quickly added, "but thanks, all the same."
Helga sneered, knowing exactly what to say to push his buttons. "You are so whipped, it's ridiculous."
"That's it!" Gerald yelled, lunging toward her, but Phoebe and Arnold stepped in to hold him back. "Just once...just once I'd like to do to you what you threaten everybody with," he angrily spat at her. "You think you're so damn smart, you have everyone figured out, right?"
"Gerald!" Phoebe warned, grinding her fingers into his arm to get him to back off.
"No, dammit! For once, she's not going to get away with this shit!" He turned his attention back to Helga, who was looking to Arnold for help, but he was silent, oddly enough. "You think you've got everyone pegged because you think we're all a bunch of simpletons, and you're the only complex person around here, but really, we've all got you figured out, Helga."
She crossed her arms and snorted. "Is that so?"
Gerald looked straight into her eyes then, and suddenly, she felt as if she'd been stripped bare, and the truth was exposed for him to see. She began to back away from him, but unfortunately, he followed. "I know why you were trying to run off without saying good-bye," he spoke quietly, with a smirk on his face. "Over the years, Phoebe's told me bits and pieces about you and your love for Arnold." She shot Phoebe a look only someone who's just felt the sting of betrayal can make and watched as her friend cringed. "Oh, I've been playing like I don't know because she knew you'd be like you are right now. Don't blame her for actually giving a damn about you – you know, like best friends should."
She felt her back hit the cold metal of the Beetle's trunk. Not knowing what else to do...just knowing she didn't want to hear anymore, she covered her ears with her hands and weakly stammered, "S-s-stop...just...just s-s-stop."
Arnold made a move to comfort her, and as she pulled away from him, she heard him say, "Come on, Gerald. Why don't you leave her alone? None of this is worth...this."
"Isn't it though?" He stared at Arnold with contempt. "Man, why do you always have to defend her, even when it's pretty obvious that she doesn't want your help? Let her speak for herself." He turned back to her again, that same sly smile fixed on his face, making her nervous without really knowing why. "Why are you so desperate to leave, Helga? My best friend deserves to know."
"It's nobody's business but mine."
Gerald shook the finger he'd been pointing at her earlier. "Uh, uh, uh! Tell the truth now!"
She closed her eyes, hesitating for a moment, and then slowly opened them, gazing at the three people standing in the way of her freedom.
"Helga?" Arnold appeared too confused to be in on this, but Phoebe was trying too hard to look like her mind was elsewhere.
As furious as she wanted to be at her friend for telling some of what she thought of as her deepest secrets, she was also hurt and...just so, so tired of all the pretending. She didn't want to fight anymore or put up the walls of defense when it was all so pointless now as she'd be gone soon, and who knew if she'd ever see them again?
The bully facade began to fade and was replaced by the older, less-used side of her personality. "I give up," she said with a sigh. "Will this make you happy, Gerald?" She peered up at him and was greeted with a peculiar site – pure shock.
"No name calling?" he asked, drawling out each word.
"No name calling," she repeated.
Arnold, who had remained a mostly silent spectator throughout the whole affair, finally spoke up. "Helga, what's he talking about?"
Her head bowed with her eyes focusing on his gray and blue Airwalks. "In all honesty, Arnold, part of me isn't really sure, but then again, I do know...kind of." She took a big breath, preparing herself before she went on. "It's like this – I decided to leave because...because...dammit!" She smacked herself. Why was it so hard to tell him? They weren't even together anymore, so what did it matter?
Arnold took her hands in his, and what she had thought was simply just a little hard to say, now was damn near impossible. "Tell me," he commanded, gently.
After that, she knew she couldn't refuse, even if she wanted to. "I...I still...I can't stop thinking about you – caring about you."
He drew her to him again, cradling the back of her head with his hand. "I feel the same way."
She tried to bite back the tears by chewing on her lower lip, but it was useless, and so she sobbed into his green sweatshirt. "But...y-you don't understand. I need to do this, Arnold. I don't want to do this, but I have to, you know?" She sniffed, looking over to Phoebe and Gerald. "You guys understand me, don't you?"
Phoebe shut her eyes tightly and put her head in the crook of her boyfriend's neck. Gerald glared at Helga. "No, we don't. All I know is that you're hurting my best friend and my girlfriend, and even though I've never considered you all that much of a friend to me, still...you're hurting me, too."
Pulling away from Arnold, she thrust her arms into the air, wildly waving them around. "But why?? You all know you're better off without me here! I either act like a big bitch whom no one wants to be around, or I get in the way by trying to get everyone's attention back on me...or I just get in the way," she finished in a hushed voice.
"Stop the pity party, Pataki. You've done this to yourself. People have tried to get along with you, but you don't want anyone to get along with you, do you?" Gerald sounded too much like her conscience then. "You want to keep being miserable because you can use it to justify all the terrible things you've said and done. You won't have to face the truth."
"No, that's not it," she whispered, uncertain.
A tiny titter of laughter came from Gerald's direction, and it took her several seconds to realize that it belonged to Phoebe, whose head was up. "Stop lying to yourself, Helga! Gerald's right. You keep up this whole stupid act because you don't want to acknowledge that you have feelings just like the rest of us. You think that acting so void of emotion makes you better than us, but deep down, you know it's wrong." Phoebe began to move toward her with arms stretched out. "Step out from behind those gray clouds and into the light. Forget what your parents have taught you! It's OK to feel."
That's when the defense mechanisms she'd built long ago snapped into place without her even willing them to. She couldn't stop the harsh words that now poured from her mouth. "'Forget what my parents have taught me?' All I know, all I've ever known comes from them. It works for them! It works for Olga! So it has to work for me, right?" She laughed bitterly. "Get real, Pheebs. This is how I've gotten by for years, and it's how I have to get by in a family as screwed up as mine. It's not as if I can change what I am." She turned toward Gerald. "I know you don't like it, but this anger is a part of me. Who knows...it's probably genetic thanks to Bob. The unwillingness to face the 'truth,' as you put it? That comes from Miriam. Olga does it, too. The only difference between me and my sister is that she also got all of the good qualities from our mother and father, so there was really nothing left for me but the bad." She looked back down at the ground, sullen. "This is me, even if no one likes me. This is why I was trying to leave, Arnold. Part of me knows that I can't really get along without you. All of my courage to face life comes from having you near me. I'm going to have to learn how to cope, somehow, and I thought it would be better if I left things like this." She moved to open up the driver's side door. Dammit, she'd been trying to avoid all of this. Things would be better if she just got the hell out of here. Now.
"How is this better??" Gerald shouted.
"Gerald, shut up!" Arnold yelled at his friend while going after her. He grabbed her wrist and whipped her around. "Wait, Helga. Ignore him. Don't leave like this, please?" he pleaded, tugging at her heart strings.
She gave him a small but real smile. "I wasn't trying to hurt you, Arnold. I realize that us being together is something that, for whatever reason, denies fate. We can't be together. I see that now, as much as it's killing me. I...I don't deserve you. You belong with someone as perfect as you are." A sad giggle bubbled up. "Heh, there's some good in me, I guess."
"But I'm not perfect!" Arnold exclaimed with a look of bewilderment on his face.
She patted his shoulder lovingly. "Yes, you are. To me, you are," she answered sincerely, giving him a peck on the cheek. Then she got in the car and closed the door. "Let the two lovebirds know that even though they 'get me,' they don't know everything."
He nodded, even if it seemed he still didn't understand, and reached a hand out to stroke her left cheek. She fought with herself to keep from snuggling into him, choosing to remain stoic and distant. Not that she really felt that way, but she didn't want him to remember their last time together with her acting like some simpering girl.
Keeping up your reputation to the very end, huh, Helga, she thought resentfully.
A few scattered drops hit her windshield, then the sky opened up again. Arnold grinned. "I remember the first day of preschool."
"So do I, Arnold. So do I." She put the key in the ignition and turned it while pumping the gas, grinding the engine into life. I hate this damn car. Facing the street as if trying to look ahead to her new life, she choked out, "I'll always love you."
As the car lurched forward, she swore she heard him say, "Me too," but she shook her head, thinking she was imagining things again...she had to be.
Right?
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Someone tapped at her shoulder to remind her that it was time for lunch, releasing her from her daydream. Reluctantly, she got up and made her way to the cafeteria – not bothering to make her bed or change out of her pajamas. What was the point? The only person she saw in this joint was Phoebe, and she wasn't scheduled to see her until 3:30. Why should she bother with something as dull and agonizing as getting cleaned up?
Lunch was the same old mundane crap, too. The food looked like something Miriam would throw together using any moldy leftovers from the fridge, and it tasted just as bad. Today's meal consisted of something that was supposed to be tuna casserole, mashed potatoes, peas, and Jello. The casserole's putrid smell hit her, and it took most of her energy to keep from vomiting the acidic contents of her stomach. A little nibble confirmed its horrible taste, so she passed onto the potatoes...which were runny and lumpy at the same time.
"Ugh," she groaned, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "Who eats this junk?" Mumbles of agreement came from a few of the patients around her, but they continued shoveling food into their eager mouths like pigs at troughs. Sighing, she moved onto the Jello because the peas were shriveled to the point of being almost blackish. "At least the Jello's OK," she said to no one in particular and then took a bite. After a minute of chewing, she coughed and spit it out into her napkin. "God, it's strawberry."
The head nurse looked up. "Quiet down and eat."
Pushing her tray away, Helga responded with, "Nothing can make me eat this slop."
The woman's head went back behind her book. "Suit yourself. You can't get anything until dinner if you don't eat now."
"Like hell," she muttered to herself and then shouted loud enough for everyone to hear, "I'd rather go without. This crap is some form of torture." The nurses said nothing as she walked back to her room. She would get in a little nap, some more dreaming, and later, she could walk to the little kitchenette and grab herself some pudding or something because her outburst would already be forgotten to be noted for the next shift.
Settling under the cool sheets, she closed her eyes, waiting for dreamland to claim her.
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What was she doing back at her parents' house? Why was she in her old pink jumper?
There was knocking, and a voice sounding mysteriously like Olga's called out. "Get up, sleepyhead! It's time for school!" The knob turned, and her door opened slowly. From behind it popped Olga – not as she'd last seen her, with streaks of gray in her blond hair and fat on her hips – looking the same as she did when Helga was just a kid.
"School?" Confusion washed over her. Hadn't she already been through that hellhole?
"Yes, silly!" Olga laughed and waved off Helga's question like she was dealing with one of her underprivileged children who couldn't grasp English. "You're a fifth grader now. Aren't you just tickled pink?"
She brushed off her sister's annoying perkiness and looked into the mirror attached to the vanity. Her hair was back in pigtails, and the familiar scowl graced her face. The only thing missing was her pink bow.
And then it occurred to her that she was still an adult.
If it looks like a dream and smells like a dream, it must be a dream.
Even after presented with nothing but weirdness, all she could think about was finding that missing part of her. "I can't go to school without my bow, Olga."
"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that," came a younger, slightly accented voice. "I've heard that an 'oh so special someone' has a surprise for you."
God, what a way to start the new year. "Lila??" Before she could say more, the two were ushering her down the stairs and out the door. Standing on her porch was a more grown-up version of Arnold. "What are you doing here?"
He held out his hand, and in it was her pink bow. "Can't let you start the year without it."
Blushing, she turned around and let him put it on. "Thanks."
"It's my first memory of you. It wouldn't be right if you didn't have it." Just as she was getting used to his hands playing with her hair, he pulled them away. "There, all done."
She turned back around and bumped into him. After noticing how close together they were, and how red he was becoming, she shut her eyes in order to stay calm and was surprised when she felt soft lips on hers, but all too quickly, the wonderful sensation was gone. "Arnold?" When she opened her eyes, they were kids again. "What's going on?"
With no more hint of nervousness, he answered, "I've been thinking about what you said when we were on top of the FTi building. It's been on my mind all summer long." He pushed into her, making her back up until she hit the door to her house. "Do you really want to take it back?"
"I don't understand?" Really, she didn't. Usually, she felt more in control of her dreams, but this time, something else was taking over. She knew she should be frightened, but from some place deeper inside, pleasure came and filled her body like someone starting a fire which couldn't be contained.
He was towering over her with that half-lidded gaze of his. "I don't want you to take it back."
In his eyes, her own look of desire reflected back at her, completely engulfing her. She couldn't move – wouldn't dare to move. Instead, that familiar part of her took over, speaking through her. "I'll do whatever you want."
She relaxed and closed her eyes as he moved forward, whispering into her ear. "Good girl."
Something didn't feel quite right.
Going against her better judgment, she peeked one eye open and found herself back on her bed with Todd hovering over her, but she was still a little girl. Powerless.
I want out of this crazy dream!
A blood-curdling shriek unleashed in her mind, but nothing came out of her mouth. She could only watch mutely as he cracked his belt at her unmarred skin. "You'll love this, Helga."
Helga.
Helga.
helga
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She awoke to the sound of her own screaming.
"Helga!"
It took a minute or two for her eyes to focus, and when they finally did, they settled on Phoebe who was reaching out to hug her. Out of habit, Helga flinched, causing her friend to stop and frown. Hurrying to make amends even though she really didn't feel like talking, she mumbled, "I'm fine. Just a nightmare."
"Care to talk about it?"
Something that sounded like a cross between a strangled giggle and a humph came from Helga, and she shook her head. "It's too weird to talk about." She paused for a minute, thinking back to the dream. "Phoebe, has anyone heard anything out of Todd?"
"Outside of him sending a letter to the board of directors with threats of a lawsuit?" She gave off a little laugh. "I'm sure his bark is worse than his bite. If he did take this to court, he could be exposed to everyone. In my experience, people like Todd would rather wait until this blows off, and then sink their claws into their victims once they're released in order to re-establish who's the boss. He just talks big to keep up appearances."
"Yeah," Helga agreed halfheartedly.
Phoebe sat next to her on the bed, staring out the window thoughtfully. "He's asking for my dismissal. He claims that I'm 'overstepping my boundaries because I know the patient personally.' What a crock."
After what seemed like an eternity of silent awkwardness but in reality was only five minutes, Helga sighed. "I'm sorry to drag you into this mess. You have no idea how sorry I am." Helga felt an arm around her shoulder, and then she was pulled up against Phoebe, overcome with warmth.
"Don't worry about it. Like I said, I've dealt with his kind before. Do you think you're the only woman coming here to escape the abuse?"
Helga looked down at her hand which was tracing circular patterns on her sheets. "I suppose not."
Phoebe gave her one last squeeze and then let go in order to stand up. She smoothed the wrinkles out of her skirt and white overcoat, grabbed her miscellaneous papers, folders, and clipboard, and then cleared her throat. "So...did you give Arnold a call?"
"In a way."
Dark eyebrows furrowed in anticipation, and fingers rapped anxiously against the clipboard. "Did you do what I think you did?"
Helga grunted. "Yeah. Don't ask." She watched as her friend opened her mouth slightly, obviously preparing to lecture her on her failure to follow through, but just as quickly closed it. Instead, she wore a painful grimace. "What?"
Phoebe took in a big breath and proceeded to blow it out through clenched teeth. Afterwards, she gave Helga a curious looking smile as she grabbed the doorknob. "It's nothing. I hope you have a great day," she said, putting special emphasis on each word. Then with a wink of her right eye, she turned the knob, opened the door, and was gone.
Leaving behind a very confused Helga. "What was that all about?"
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It was 6pm, with the raging storm outside showing no signs of letting up. Lightning lit up the dark sky, and the following thunder shook the building. She was staring out of the big window pane in the lounge – which was reinforced with unbreakable glass for the crazy would-be jumpers, of course. Cars were pulling into the visitors' parking lot, and people were pouring out. Especially catching her attention was a blond-haired guy in green flannel and jeans making his way to the automatic doors. She couldn't quite make out his face, but for some reason, she was reminded of the way Todd used to dress when they were dating.
Sighing, she moved back over to the uncomfortable beige loveseat and picked up an old copy of Newsweek to thumb through. If it weren't for her daily sessions with Phoebe, she'd be so...alone. Why was it that whenever she was stuck in one of these places, she'd be forced to watch as everyone else received family support as a bitter reminder to her that she had...well, none?
Out of desperation, her eyes flicked to the phone. Nobody was using it. She could call Mom, hint around that she needed cheering up?
Yeah, and most likely get either Bob bitching about missing his show...or worse – Olga describing her latest movie project in her annoyingly perky way.
She could make a quick call. He'd come on the line, and it would be just enough to soothe her. That would be good.
No. Absolutely not! Married women did not make phone calls to men who aren't their husbands! What was wrong with her??
As much as she was dreading it, she knew she should call home, just to let Todd know she's fine. Let him rant a little, agree with him to sugarcoat things...that would put him in a better mood, at least until she was released.
Stubbornly, she stuck her tongue out at the phone as if it were capable of feeling remorse. She didn't want to deal with Todd, dammit. Not right now.
Visitors were starting to sign in at the nurses' station. The phone would be unoccupied for an hour straight. All she would need was a minute or two. Just one lousy minute...long enough to apologize for yesterday's call. Phoebe would be happy with her progress. Then tomorrow night, she could move onto asking him how life was treating him. Baby steps.
Why did the words always get stuck in her throat? Why was it so hard to speak them aloud, but she could write them effortlessly?
She picked up the receiver and unfolded the crumbled up note, carefully laying it in her lap. Just as she was about to dial the number, a tap came to her shoulder. "There's someone here for you, Helga."
The phone slid from her hand, forgotten. "Huh?" The nurse pointed to a guy...the same one she'd been watching from the window a few minutes ago. Her eyes traveled up slowly...cautiously, and the closer she got to his head, the more she had this sinking feeling without even knowing why.
Blue eyes met familiar lovely green eyes.
Heart pounding rapidly against her chest, out of her mouth came a weak throttled cry. "A-arnold?"
Her beautiful flaxen-haired angel, just as she remembered.
Sheepishly, he waved. "Hello, Helga."