The Look of Love
The couple woke up the next morning to the sound of the parents arguing in the next bedroom. "I'm not touching it, Warren!" they heard Jeannie say over and over. Helena looked at her wife, whose green eyes ping ponged back and forth while she tried to imagine what in the world they were talking about. "You touched it before and it was okay! Never mind, I'll touch it myself," Warren said exasperated.
The next sound – of Mr. Bering yelling in pain – sent Myka and Helena scrambling to put on robes and investigate.
"Daddy? Are you okay?" Myka said through the door.
"Tell your wife this isn't funny!" he yelled back and Jeannie concurred that they failed to see the humor in it.
Myka looked at Helena who was completely perplexed and shrugged her shoulders. It was too early in the morning for even geniuses to venture a guess as to what the Berings were talking about. Myka put her hand on the doorknob and opened the door, much to her father's amazement. "What is going on?" Myka inquired.
"I'll tell you what's going on! Your wife tried to shock us. Are we in one of your experiments?" Remembering what Helena shared at dinner last night about wanting to electrify his chair, Warren simply extrapolated that she chose the doorknob of their room instead.
"Daddy, what are you talking about?" Myka demanded and Jeannie explained that since last night, they had not been able to leave their room because every time they touched the handle of the exit, they received a mild, but definite, jolt.
Helena listened with great intent and when all three Berings cast their eyes on her, she blurted out her inner most thought; "Wish I had thought of that actually," she said with a dreamy-eyed expression.
"Helena! …would... never …do that," Myka said, haltingly. She had to admit, she liked the results of the uninterrupted evening, even if she didn't care for the method.
"Really? Are you sure? She wanted to electrify our chairs last night," Warren said and Jeannie put her hand over her mouth.
"Daddy, why are you saying that?" Myka asked, insisting on an answer.
"She told me!" he said and Jeanne cast a look of disapproval at her daughter-in-law.
"I, may have mentioned….," Helena began, trying to get herself out of this one.
"Well, I was coming down to tell you that we'll be back when my grandchild is born, but not if you're going to keep us caged up," Jeannie said, waiting for the apology.
"Oh!" Helena finally said, three sets of eyes still looking at her for the explanation. "I believe your door is straight above some electrical equipment in my laboratory," the scientist said, thinking out loud. "The metal must have acted as a conduit for the charge."
"What do you have done there, a generator?" Warren asked.
"Really, Myka," Jeannie started, "You're going to have to childproof this house! You can't have children running around with the chance that they'll get shocked."
"Great behavior conditioning," Helena said, and meant for the Berings.
"I left you some books on the table," Jeannie whispered. "You better get her to read the one on child safety."
Now that the Berings could leave their room, they joined the couple for breakfast before they headed to the airport. Warren looked over his chair several times before he felt it was safe enough to sit. "Truly, I didn't…," Helena started in her defense, but she got lost in wondering how did it happen.
"Now, remember, we're just a plane ride away," Jeannie said, as her eyes got teary and she hugged Myka goodbye when breakfast was done.
"Promise me you'll get gates for those stairs," Warren said AGAIN as he hugged Helena.
"Righty-o," Helena said, saluting him which he found strangely endearing.
"Thanks for the car, girls," Warren said as Steve helped them with their bags. "Do you think they bought it in New York?" he whispered to his wife as they walked to the car.
"You," Myka said, as she closed the door and turned to her wife, "…..are a saint!"
"St. Helena," the Brit said, trying it on for size. "I do like the sound of that."
While Myka went over the menu for dinner with Leena in the kitchen, Helena went to look at the doorknob that caused all the trouble. The scientist could not detect anything that might have acted as the source of an electrical current. Then she went downstairs, to see if her fabricated theory had any merit, but there was nothing directly below that room on neither the first floor, nor the basement, that held any kind of charge. She wondered if Mrs. Bering's slippers coming into contract with the carpeting weren't the cause. Whatever it was, she still thought, it was an effective method for containing the in-laws. She looked around her massive laboratory in the basement. Perhaps Warren was right; they did need to childproof the house. Helena was imagining what might need to be done when she heard it; the softest whisper that made her wonder if it weren't her mind's voice speaking to her;
"She will be safe here," she heard.
Helena frowned as she tried to decide where that sound came from.
"I will protect her," she heard and then she knew; it wasn't coming from within her.
"Helena?" Myka called down just as Helena was about to inquire about that voice. She had a sneaking suspicion about who it was.
"Be right there, love," Helena yelled up and waited until she heard Myka close the door again before she whispered – "Listen, Myka ….may not …like this. I mean, I have to talk to Myka," Helena said because she wasn't sure her wife would like the Entity being the cause of the Bering's electrical prison. "Although," she said as she started upstairs, "It was a bloody brilliant idea."
Helena should have known better than to encourage the Warehouse.
"Who were you talking to?" Myka asked when Helena arrived upstairs.
"I was…saying….," Helena said, looking behind her wondering how to explain that her former caretaker might have caused the electrical condition in her parent's room.
Fortunately for Helena, Myka's mind was racing with other thoughts. "I cannot believe I agreed to do this! Today of all days," she said, throwing her hands up in the air. "Why didn't you talk me out of it?"
"What, exactly, are we talking about?" Helena said and then noticed a stream of people carrying lighting equipment into the living room.
"The photo shoot I agreed to? Me, of all people, giving into that!" Myka whispered as she smiled to the crew assembling in her home. She gently pushed Helena into the kitchen where Leena was preparing the menu.
"I'm sorry, Darling, but I don't…," Helena started, but was interrupted again.
"Don't you remember, I told you over …oh, wait, no I didn't," the lawyer's eidetic memory kicking in. "I'm sorry, I meant to tell you and then my parents came. Anyway, I agreed to do this simple little photo shoot for Marie Claire's next issue on highlighting the top charities that benefit women. All the proceeds are going to the organizations. They have ten different categories and I agreed to do the Expectant Mother section. I mean, prenatal care is really important for all women who are expecting and this is a great opportunity for us to do something that will make an impact," Myka spilled in one long run on sentence.
"They should have both of you," Leena thought out loud and Helena protested that she detested sitting still or having someone direct her movements.
"I abhor it," she summarized her feelings and there wasn't a photographer worth his or her salt that would contradict her. "They do not understand the physics of lighting."
"Yeah," Leena agreed because she remembered when an architectural magazine did a spread on the brownstones of Manhattan and featured Helena's home; she argued with every shot they took. "This should be good," the House Director said.
Suddenly, they heard - "Mr. Burnett does not like to talk," the young assistant said to Myka when she burst through the kitchen door.
"I'm sorry?" Myka said, sipping her coffee.
"No coffee!" the young woman demanded. "It wrinkles the skin, please." After her words of warning, she attempted to reach out for the cup, but an entire human body seemed to appear in front of her.
"I don't know who you are, my dear, but I suggest you give us your next of kin to contact because if you come within three feet of Mrs. Bering-Wells again, someone will be calling to collect your remains and the only photographer will be the one taking pictures of the outline of your body," Helena snarled at the intruder. Helena's words sucked the air out of the rude woman's lungs. She retreated backwards quickly until she was out of the room.
"Well, that went well," Leena said, tapping the pencil to her chin.
"My heroine," Myka smiled as she wrapped her arms around Helena's waist.
"Too much?" Helena asked and Leena smiled at how sincere she was in asking.
"Let's do it without the death threat maybe," Myka suggested sincerely. She didn't want to make Helena less protective, but perhaps they could lessen their chances of being sued.
Helena nodded her head, always listening to her legal counsel, and kissed Myka. "Maybe I'll go for a run," Helena suggested because she knew she was going to need an outlet.
"Marie Claire!" shouted Bridget, who rushed through the door having navigated the obstacle course of equipment in the hallway. "Is there no end to your philanthropic virtue? How are we even friends?"
"There is no end to the parade of good news coming through our front door," Helena said sardonically.
"Stop! You love me and we all know it," Bridget said, feeling particularly brave that morning.
"Sit here," Helena said, pointing to a stool at the island in the kitchen and wondering if the Warehouse would find it in her heart to electrify the chair.
"Thank you," Bridget said and began asking Myka all kinds of questions about the shoot, as Helena waited for her reaction.
There was none.
"I brought the dresses for the shoot, because besides investment banking, my wife believes I make a wonderful delivery person," Bridget laughed as she thanked Leena for the coffee.
"Oh, thank you for bringing them," Myka said and then noticed Helena staring at the stool, then the floor and then looked at the ceiling. "You okay, sweetie?" she asked the resident scientist.
"Pardon?" Helena said, caught in her own wishful thinking.
"Helena!" Bridget said when she saw the Brit staring. "Are you staring at my ass? I'm flattered!"
Myka bit her lips because she found it funny, but she was almost certain her wife would not. She was right.
"I long for the days when that cranium contained the good sense you once had not to irritate me," Helena said sternly. "Were it not for the fact that I am going for a run in the park, I would purposely buy a company just to flood your day with unnecessary paperwork and sheer aggravation."
"Uncle," the banker said, putting her hands up to signal surrender.
"I'll be back soon," Helena declared to her wife, kissing her and tenderly holding Myka's lower lip in her own mouth, until the wide smile broke them apart.
"I'll miss you," Myka said, in spite of the fact that she wouldn't be gone long.
"I wish I had known you were going for a run there, Wells," Bridget said. "I would have gone with you."
"You might have gone with me, but you would never keep up," Helena said, smiling victoriously.
"Look at these legs," the tall woman challenged, pushing them out in front of her. "I could reach the park before you left the sidewalk."
Helena scoffed at Bridget, rolling her eyes. Since the banker was dressed in an outfit that would allow her to make good on her bet, she told Helena she accepted the challenge. With that, the banker ran into the hallway to do her stretches. Helena looked over at Myka, the way someone does when they get stuck walking the dog and their expressions reads – 'Why me?'.
"Don't …..," Myka started to request, but wasn't sure what specifically she wanted to say.
"The woman is master of her own destiny," Helena said, which wasn't very assuring. "Now, I shall be back before they begin the shoot."
With that, Helena walked back into the hallway, where across a sea of people, Bridget tried to goad her. "Who is in charge?" Helena asked a man nearest her. "Mr. Burnett, of course," he answered.
"Well, I need to speak to someone who actually talks," Helena said and the man said he was in charge of the crew. "Good," she replied, getting into his personal space. "I am going to go teach that woman over there a lesson. Fear not, it won't take me long. When I return, if my wife looks the least bit bothered, frustrated, annoyed, perturbed, or any emotion that I deem unnecessary, I will make Mr. Burnett pay dearly. Do you think you can convey that message to the man who does not wish to speak?" Helena said and even Bridget, from across the room, could see how scary the Brit's expression was. The man nervously nodded his head as the makeup and costume people spoke to Myka about getting ready. "Good," Helena said, smiling but not convincing anyone she was being friendly.
"Come!" she said to Bridget who looked back at the man who she wasn't sure was breathing.
"You know, I think I feel appendicitis coming on. Oh, look, you're already running," she said, wondering if she was legally responsible for unleashing that force that ran ahead of her, out on the world.
In the meantime, the severe warning had been passed down to the crew, and everyone was as nice as could be to Myka. They listened to her when she said how she wore her makeup, and that she didn't want hairspray lacquered onto her hair. The man who received Helena's message clearly, was not as forthcoming when the famed photographer arrived, but did mention that Helena would be back soon. Helena's reputation preceded her and the man decided – when he spoke – to speak civilly to Myka.
As cooperative as Myka was as a subject, and as accommodating as the crew was, Mr. Burnett felt he wasn't capturing exactly what he wanted. He snapped his fingers to have lights moved and white diffusers shifted around. Still, he wasn't happy.
In the meantime, Bridget did manage to keep up with Helena and listened to Helena's rant about protecting the people in their lives. She instructed her private banker never to allow anyone to disrespect her own wife. Bridget was so winded by the trek, that all she could do was nod her head in agreement. Thirty minutes later, or what would take Bridget two deep muscles massages to recuperate from, the banker and her client returned.
Suddenly, and inexplicably, the photographer looked through the lens and saw it! Something had transformed Myka from a beautiful woman into a woman radiating that beauty. He feverishly clicked away, trying to capture the look, more pleased with his work than he had ever been. Myka's green eyes lit up, her full lips parted as if trying to breathe in slowly, and her face glowed, as if something was making her blush naturally.
What he didn't realize was that Helena had walked into the room behind him and what he was really looking at – was the affect she had on Myka. They were apart less than an hour, but upon seeing one another again, both women's appearances changed. He turned to see what that faraway look in Myka's eyes was - and witnessed the cause. He took picture after picture and not one of them disappointed him. When the shoot was done, Myka, dressed in a beautiful maroon chiffon dress with a stiff collar, walked over to spandex clad Helena and kissed her. The professional photographer took one picture of them as they kissed, and told Myka he did so in case he ever needed to explain how he got the look for they shoot.
He would write later –
"I've spent years taking pictures of the most beautiful people in the world, but never before have I been fortunate enough to capture them as they experience something so strong as their love for someone. I've never witnessed the very essence of their feelings for someone. Until today."
"Good job," Helena said to everyone because she could tell Myka was okay. "I'll be back soon," she said to her wife as she dashed upstairs to take a shower.
You The crew packed up and left, some of them stepping over a collapsed Bridget on the front steps. "Glad you made it out alive," she managed to say to the man who had been given the warning.
Then Myka, still dressed in her couture maternity clothes, brought her friend a cold bottle of water. "If I ever get the feelings back in my legs, do you guys want to go to dinner?" she gasped out.
"Actually, we're having guests tonight, but another night for sure," Myka explained.
Bridget then walked slowly to her car and instructed her driver to take her directly to her personal masseuse. She texted Sarah to remind her never to challenge Helena ever again.
Myka returned inside and went upstairs to get changed. They had a big night ahead of them. She went inside the bathroom where Helena was showering. "Helena, have you given any thought to what you'll tell Gloria this evening at dinner," Myka asked as she slipped on her jeans and t shirt.
"Of course, Darling," Helena said from the shower, her tone nonchalant.
"And what….?" Myka said as she handed her wife a towel.
"Why, the truth of course," Helena answered, graciously accepting the towel Myka held out for her.
Myka was certain Helena would have no trouble sharing the truth, but as the hour grew near, she worried how Gloria would be about hearing it.