A/N: I just wanted to acknowledge all my fellow B&W writers who have already written about Helena and Christina. So many of them have done it so beautifully and have written it so well. I want to give them a special shout out – because in writing about it in this chapter (and mine is just a photo) - I realize how emotional it is to write about Helena – as she grieves for Christina.

So, bravo ladies (and gents) – and thank you for sharing your wonderful stories with all of us.

Coming Full Circle

The young, up and coming executive had just announced to Helena that her impending wedding to her soulmate was off. 'I should have studied them,' crossed Helena's mind - that was still fixated on how perfectly she had nailed being imperfect.

"Let's talk," Helena said, ushering the distraught woman into her office.

Eileen was grateful to have the opportunity to calm down and talk with someone before she acted any further on her decision. Then she caught sight of Helena's appearance. The blouse had been tucked back in, but it was wrinkled, and then there was the condition of her stockings. As was its nature though, every strand of hair had returned to its rightful position.

"What….?" Eileen asked slowly as Helena walked ahead of her to her desk.

"Pardon?" Helena said, sitting down behind the desk and ready to take action. "Oh, I was….doing imperfect ….for Myka."

The younger woman, who knew how perfect her boss was, just smiled when she thought of how only Helena would go that route. "Is she feeling better?" Eileen asked, because she had been at the meeting where Myka lost it.

"I think so," Helena said, hopeful. "It's being pregnant," she added.

"Well, you have a lot on your mind and plate and I don't want to bother you," Eileen said and started to get up.

"Well, I have no idea if it is a bother because I have no idea what it is," Helena said truthfully. "Care to enlighten me?" she asked.

Just then, Claudia burst through the door, uninvited and unannounced.

"I had no idea that families could be this complicated!" she yelled from the entryway. "Why didn't you ever warn me?" she asked her boss and then noticed her fiancée sitting in front of the desk.

"Do join us, please," Helena said and it wasn't sarcastic, but rather – get we get on with this?

"Oh, I didn't know….did you want to talk to her? You were here first," Claudia said as she walked over, and Eileen countered with; "No, if you want to talk to her, I can go. I was just blowing off steam."

"Sit," Helena said, tiring of the couple's polite tete a tete. "Now, if either of these conversations is of the utmost importance...," Helena began and stood up, "…social etiquette suggests I sit on the same side of the desk," she expounded, having listened to Irene.

"No, I mean, it's okay like this," Eileen said and Claudia nodded her head and then asked, "What the frak happened to you?" She had never seen Helena disheveled.

"Oh," Helena said, looking down at the wrinkled blouse, "I was being …"

"Imperfect," Eileen whispered and Claudia stared at her boss. "How…did that go?" she asked curiously.

"It was greatly appreciated, but I am happy to say, I will not be doing a repeat performance, so if you two could get to the point here, I have stockings to replace and nails to be manicured," Helena pointed out.

"My family, though well meaning, is driving me nuts with the wedding," Eileen reported as she was instructed to do.

"Oh my God! That's what I was going to say," Claudia announced.

"Really?" Eileen asked, surprised at the similarity.

"Well, I know all the decision making is making you upset," Claudia said, taking Eileen's hands.

"They just …want everything to be perfect…," Eileen said to Helena. "You know, because I'm their only daughter."

"Yes, singularity seems to convince parents they are entitled to even more control in order to get it right," Helena espoused.

"They mean well," Eileen said, in their defense.

"We all know where that road leads," the Author reminded them.

"Everyone wants to help, or be in the wedding, or tell us where to have the wedding, or the honeymoon, or the color of the dresses, or …," Claudia said in one breath and had to stop in order to breathe.

"They want a huge wedding because of all the relatives…," Eileen said and Claudia gasped – "So many relatives."

Helena listened quietly, taking in the exasperation of the young couple. This wasn't Helena the counselor; this was Helena the fixer who didn't like to see her friends suffering at the hands of well-intentioned people. She looked at her phone and then said; "Belvedere Castle – three weeks from this weekend. You can honeymoon in Florida."

"You want us to get married at the HG Wells Museum?" Eileen asked and Claudia was already bobbing her head that it was the coolest idea ever!

"The museum opens two weeks later. You can have the ceremony and dinner there. I suggest Myka's island because …," Helena explained and made sure both women were looking at her, " …One can only get there by private boat."

Claudia was the first one to think about that. "You don't…think…anyone would want to come on our honeymoon, do you?"

"No one would do that," Eileen said, defensively, if not convincingly.

"They needn't be there in the flesh to accompany you," Helena said and then came around her desk, pulling a third chair up. "This is one of the most momentous days of your lives. It is about you – and with all due respect to everyone else, only you. Now, I know everyone wants it to be perfect, but their efforts seem to be adding stress. You need to lock yourselves away in the Penthouse, decide what you want and emerge with the answers. Your wishy washy approach of not wanting to offend is wreaking havoc with your mental states," Helena stated bluntly.

There was dead silence; something Helena usually abhorred, but had grown tolerant of. The couple looked at each and both concurred their leader was right.

"I just want you to be happy," both said at the same time.

"Good!" Helena said, slapping her hands down on her knees. "Now go decide what will make each of you happy." With that, the CEO rose from her chair because she thought they were done.

"I'll do whatever you want," Claudia stated and Helena smiled at took her seat again. Apparently, they weren't quite done. "If you want 12 bridesmaids, I'm okay with that."

"Twelve bridesmaids?" Helena shouted in disbelief. She had no idea just how out hand this had gotten.

"She has …(cough) …a lot of cousins," Claudia explained.

"I have been in their weddings," Eileen said sheepishly.

"Bloody hell!" Helena blurted out. "Someone needs to stop that tradition immediately. Besides, that is too much pink."

"We're having a black and white wedding," Eileen announced proudly because it was the only thing they had agreed on so far.

"Well, off you go," Helena said gently and stood up once again.

"What about the castle?" Claudia asked Eileen and stopped Helena from standing upright.

"I love it! If we did it in three weeks, we wouldn't have time to put all those plans in place," Eileen concurred.

"Small wedding party?" Claudia asked and Eileen agreed wholeheartedly. "Florida okay for the honeymoon?" the techie asked and Eileen affirmed she'd go to the ends of the earth with her fiancée.

The couple kissed and Helena was just about to announce that the meeting had to adjourn when Claudia turned to her and announced - "We'll do it!" Helena looked behind her, hoping to see the wedding planner they must be speaking to.

There was, of course, no one else there.

"Good," Helena confirmed and remembered what putting a wedding together was like. She rose from her seat gracefully. "I will take care of all the arrangements."

"Oh my God, really?" the two women jumped from their seats and ran towards her, enveloping her in a hug as she stood tall, patting their arms.

"Yes, leave it to me," Helena assured them.

"Thank you, thank you," the two women repeated and didn't let go.

"Brain…requires…oxygen," Helena finally said because she was sandwiched between them.

The two released the CEO immediately, but re-hugged the woman before she could escape. Then they went, hand in hand, out of her office sure they had made the right decision.

Helena, exhausted by the engaged couple, wanted nothing more than to finish her work and leave with Myka later that day. She set about to do just that when there was a knock at the door. She told Sui to tell them to come in and Gloria appeared in the doorway.

"I am sorry to disturb you," the nurse said, making her way to the desk.

"Is Myka okay?" Helena asked, out of her seat before the woman could assure her she was.

"I am actually here on a personal visit," Gloria admitted after having given the decision much thought.

"Oh, well, Irene …handles ….personal …things…really," Helena said, having had her fill of personal issues for one day.

"Oh, no I meant – I wanted to give you something," the nurse said, realizing she hadn't been clear. In the weeks that Gloria had gotten to know Helena, she found it strangely endearing how literal the woman could be.

Helena had just returned to her seat behind the desk after the couple had left. Ordinarily, she would remain there for the next visitor. But the nurse said it was personal - and so Helena contemplated if that dictated she move to the other side of the desk.

"Truly that woman is never complete in her directives," she said of Irene out loud, and got up and sat down in front of her desk and pointed to where the nurse should sit.

Gloria read Helena's uncomfortable body language, but couldn't imagine what it was in response to. "I won't take up much time," she said as she sat, and Helena said that remained to be seen.

"Do you believe people's paths cross for a reason?" Gloria started out because she always liked to set up her stories; a habit her sons begged her to relinquish.

"Yes. In my case, it's usually a punishment of some sort," Helena said and then assured the nurse that present company was excluded.

Gloria laughed anyway. "You are somethin' else," the nurse said because she found Helena's candor refreshing. "Well, I do, too. Always have really," she continued. Helena smiled back politely. "I thought about this many times before, but decided I wanted to wait until the moment was right. Well, with your museum opening, I wondered if this wasn't it."

Helena listened attentively, but since the woman added nothing else, she asked; "Is there more to this story?"

The nurse chuckled again. "It's almost as if we were destined to meet somehow," she started to say as she pushed her hand into her pocketbook.

"Ah, a puzzle!" Helena said and added, "I usually only do those with Myka."

"Not really a puzzle. I'm going to give you the answer. You see, my great-great-grandmother knew your great-great- grandmother," Gloria said with certainty because she had read the book written by Mary Verne that contained Helena's carefully fabricated lineage. She slowly pulled out the picture and presented it to Helena.

"Her name was Amelia Brown."

If the nurse had retrieved a gun and shot Helena, the impact would have only been a fraction of what she felt. Helena glanced briefly at the photo of a tall white English woman standing next to an African woman, their visual difference accentuated in the black and white picture. Gloria was expecting Helena to be surprised, or at least a little astonished that she possessed something of Helena's legacy. Truly, what were the chances, she thought. But when she showed the picture to Helena, who didn't immediately take it, she saw something that wasn't surprise. Gloria watched Helena's eyes widen and she pulled back away for a second. It was almost as if she didn't want to touch the picture. Dark eyes looked up and stared at Gloria, who now wondered if this wasn't a mistake. Helena's chest rose and fell as her breathing became shallow. Part of Helena's brain scrambled with how to handle and respond to this blindsiding; another part was drawn explicably back in time to when that photo was taken.

"Where did you …get this?" Helena finally managed to ask and tried willing her body to stop reacting. It was as if she had been torn through a wormhole in time and was trying to get her bearings. She pushed the picture back into Gloria's hand.

"It's been handed down through the years. This woman here, was my great-great grandmother; a trained physician. Taught at her father's side, who had learned from the English when they were in his village. They left their village, went to France, and there she became a midwife. The story has it that the Wells Family was vacationing in France, when the young Helena Wells went into labor."

Helena's body was reacting and the nurse could see it. Helena's jaw tightened, her breathing labored and she couldn't seem to fixate her eyes on any one thing. "Are you okay, Helena?" Gloria asked concerned. She put her hand on Helena's and could feel the slightest trembling. "I'm sorry….," the nurse apologized, although she wasn't quite sure what for.

In the meantime, Gloria wasn't the only one who sensed Helena's distress.

Myka was midsentence on a conference call with the Central Park Directors about the museum when she felt it – a lightning bolt of tension shot through her and she knew immediately something was threatening Helena. She apologized and cut the call short and rushed upstairs. As Gloria was asking Helena if she was okay, Myka was coming through the door and immediately was at Helena's side, gently placing her hand on her wife's cheek. Gloria turned the picture over, just to be safe.

"Hi Gloria," Myka said and the nurse instantly saw the change in Helena. Color returned to her cheeks, her breathing evened out and she finally blinked! Watching these two women was an amazing physiological sight, the nurse thought. It was if they were conjoined somehow – on an emotional level. She had never seen anything like it.

"Gloria has a picture," Helena said, looking up at green eyes that assured her everything was okay.

Still unaware of what the significance was, but trained to notice distress in a person, Gloria apologized again if her action was somehow inappropriate. Maybe Helena had issues with her ancestors that people were unaware of.

Now, as Myka sat next to Helena, holding one hand and gently rubbing her back in small circles, the Brit was finally calm enough to respond. "No, no need to apologize," she assured the nurse. "I would like to see it." Gloria was struck by the fact that Helena couldn't seem to look at it until Myka was there. She smiled at just how amazing their symbiotic connection was.

"I was telling Ms. Wells," Gloria started and reverted back to her boss' formal name because she wanted to make sure both women knew her gesture was being done with the utmost respect. "…that this is a picture of my great-great grandmother standing next to Helena Wells." Slowly and carefully, Gloria turned the picture over and showed it to both women.

Even now, Gloria was struck by the resemblance between her boss and the woman in the picture. It was as if the Wells family genes dominated down through the generations. Gloria had to look long and hard at her ancestor to find any similarity. "As you can tell," the nurse laughed before sharing the joke, "….I did not get my curves from this side of the family." The self-deprecating humor broke the tension and Myka smiled.

"How did this come to be?" Myka asked softly and Gloria explained what she knew. "The story passed down was that Amelia was working in France as a midwife after leaving her war-torn village. Although trained as a doctor, she concentrated her work in delivering babies as a midwife. It seemed that your relative, Helena, was vacationing there when she went into labor. They summoned Amelia who delivered the baby," Gloria said with great pride.

"That's amazing," Myka said as she held the picture -her face was bathed in a loving smile as she looked at Helena, standing next to the woman in the picture. She looked so happy; both of them did, and the photo looked more like that of two friends.

"Amelia wrote of how gracious Helena Wells was," Gloria continued the story with the kind of voice that beckoned one to listen. "She paid Amelia more than what the charge was because she had come up to the estate special. And then," Gloria said and threw her hands down in her lap, "….she gave her signed copies of the HG Wells books! First editions!"

The woman's tale replayed in Helena's mind because she remembered it well. The midwife admired the stack of books that Charles kept on hand in case a female visitor swooned over him. It bothered Helena that he handed them out like party favors. When Amelia expressed her interest, Helena took one of each and gave it to her. Signed.

"Do you have them?" Myka asked, hoping that was the question Helena would ask if she were talking.

"Oh, yes!" Gloria said excitedly. "They have been handed down through generations along with Amelia's journals. They're really treasured in our family. It never mattered who signed them, but after reading that book that Mary Verne, the Harvard Professor, who wrote that book about HG Wells being the siblings' efforts? Well, I thought – I guess they were signed by the real HG Wells!"

"Have you read her journals?" Helena wondered out loud, the words falling slowly from her lips.

"Oh, I read some, but Lordy, there are so many!" Gloria exclaimed, smiling at the tomes. "That woman could write! And it was your great-great grandmother who encouraged her. Says it right there in the very first one," Gloria explained. "Says that if Helena hadn't insisted she write, she probably would never have written about her journey to France and then to America. She even wrote a book about obstetrics that, of course, was never published," the nurse lamented. "Do you know she was a pioneer in the idea that the baby should immediately be with the mother?" Gloria stated with great pride.

Helena remembered the woman, directly after Christina was born, placed the baby on Helena's chest. Mrs. Wells yelled that it was unnatural, unsanitary, and Helena was too weak, but the midwife winked at Helena and never paid Mrs. Wells any mind. "The child needs her mother," Amelia Brown said authoritatively and it sealed Helena's affection forever.

"What…became of her, do you know?" Myka asked, as her hand continued to massage Helena's back gently.

"She left France shortly after that picture was taken, settled in Virginia, where she and her husband raised their family," Gloria said smiling. "She continued her work as a midwife and wrote journals and journals about her work."

For the first time, Helena actually looked at the picture. Amelia was almost as tall as Helena, and both women were laughing at a remark Helena had just made about Charles. It was taken days after Christina was born. Helena thought the good doctor's attitude was the only thing that saved her from the flurry of comments and apprehensions expressed by her family. Her parents were quite concerned for her reputation; Charles worried about his livelihood being tainted. Amelia was the only one who reminded Helena that she was more than enough for this child, not matter what anyone said.

By the time Helena left France, the idea was born that a distant American cousin three times removed was the father, but that he was killed abroad.

"They…. lost touch," Helena declared more than she asked, even though the nurse took it as an inquiry.

"Well, yes," Gloria answered. "Amelia wrote to her friend once she was settled in America, but the letters were returned," Gloria said and there was sadness in her voice when she thought about that. She had read the journal entries of how upsetting her great-great grandmother found that.

A pang of guilt rose in Helena's chest. It wasn't until her own mother was dying, did Mrs. Wells tell Helena that she had refused any parcel from the woman. Helena had fought long and hard with her mother over her distrust of the midwife. Mrs. Wells said she was protecting Helena and the baby, but Helena suspected it was her mother's distasteful prejudice that got in the way. It wasn't until her deathbed, did Mrs. Wells tell Helena how sorry she was that she had refused the letters.

"Her mother….," Helena started to explain and had to clear her throat to continue, "…was afraid that the doctor, Amelia, might tell someone that the baby's father was not in the picture."

"Oh," Gloria said, surprised. "I never knew that. I mean, she never wrote anything…"

"No, she wouldn't," Helena said, and didn't care that it would confuse the nurse.

"You seem to know a lot about them. Did Helena keep journals, too?" Gloria asked, struck by how two 21st century women would have different pieces of the same story.

Myka looked at Helena carefully, to make sure that Helena didn't feel pressured to explain herself. Myka was ready to stop the conversation any time Helena looked upset. But she appeared to be much calmer now. Myka held onto the picture and Helena touched the image lovingly with her finger. "She was…," she started and cleared her throat, "….. a remarkable woman. Yes, Helena wrote what a great help she was, a source of great comfort."

"Well, isn't this something?" Gloria chuckled and pushed back in her seat. "Two descendants, reading about each other's families from journals. And now our paths have crossed! Mmm, mmm, mmm. Ain't that somethin'," the nurse mused. "You know, she is why I am a nurse. Why my mother and her mother before her. It's in our blood, I guess," the nurse laughed at her own pun. "And to honor her, we were hyphenating our names long before it was in style, you know," Gloria said, explaining how she still bore the female doctor's name.

Even though Helena seemed stiller, Gloria wasn't quite sure what the CEO was thinking. "I sure hope I did the right thing by sharing this all with you," she said, but this time she looked directly at Myka for the answer. "I just thought this picture was a testament to two women who paid no mind to the social divides of the day."

Now that she had Myka's secure touch, Helena could gather her thoughts. "I think it was a wonderful idea," she said and the nurse's face lit up with relief. "I would like to see her journals if you wouldn't mind sharing them."

"Oh, Lord, yes! You can see everything!" Gloria said, happy to see the change of tone in Helena's voice. "Well, I have taken up enough of your time," the nurse said cordially, getting up and preparing to leave. When she got halfway to the door, she turned back to the couple. "Thank you, Helena."

"Pardon?" Helena asked.

"Those returned letters; that was always a mystery with a lot of unkind speculation." Gloria admitted. "I'm glad it wasn't Helena Wells who didn't accept them. That would make Amelia feel better, I bet. Makes me feel a whole lot better."

And then, perhaps because she was caught up in the moment and her emotions were swirling about, Helena spoke from her heart –

"You remind me a great deal of her. She must be very proud."

"Thank you for saying that," Gloria said, her shoulders pressed back, her chest out as she felt pride in what Helena suggested. She imagined Helena had spent long nights reading old journals. She had no way of knowing, Helena had written them. Then, the nurse closed the door softly behind her.

Myka stood and pulled Helena up into a warm embrace. "Are you okay?" she asked her wife, because she knew the picture had blindsided Helena. She pulled back to study Helena carefully.

"I can't say that didn't shock me, but I am okay," Helena explained. "I'm glad you were here."

"Me, too," Myka said, kissing Helena and then leaning her head on Helena's. "You know, if I get much bigger, I won't be able to face you like this," the expectant woman laughed.

Helena gently put her hand on Myka's protruding stomach. "She's a lucky little girl," the Brit said.

"Come here," Myka said, pulling Helena to the couch and sitting down. Then she pulled Helena until she was lying with her legs stretched out, her head resting against a pillow that Myka placed at her hip. She knew how emotionally exhausting that was for her wife.

"I have work…," Helena tried to protest, but Myka wasn't having any of it.

"Shhh," Myka said gently, placing her finger on Helena's soft lips. "Just rest for a few minutes."

Within minutes, Helena's body succumbed to the escape of sleep and fell limp.

"Oh, Helena," Myka spoke softly, looking once more at the picture. She ran her thumb over the picture. "You have had more than a lifetime of pain and sorrow," she whispered, the word barely audible. Large tears spilled uncontrollably from Myka's eyes, each one hitting her stomach. She put the picture down, tried to wipe the tears away when something happened for the first time.

She felt the baby kick.

Thank you for your continued reading. There are so many wonderful stories out there to choose.

If mine is among them, I am very honored.

Cheers.