Disclaimer: The Hey Arnold characters belong to Craig Bartlett, and him alone. That his characters have inspired such hubris in me that would see me attempt a fan fiction based on them, speaks volumes of my reverence of the man.

ICYMI: Helga's quest for truth leads to an unexpected bombshell disclosure.

9. Us vs Us (Part 2)

Were a pin to drop that moment on the kitchen floor of The Sunset Arms, the impact would have been audible from anywhere within the building. It was silent because Helga and the Shortmans were now in the wake of Miriam's blockbuster disclosure. Their thoughts were hanging from their wide-open mouths as if they had lost their collective ability to breathe, let alone speak. It was silent because Miriam and Olga were mentally bracing themselves for whatever fallout was forthcoming.

Waiting for the inevitable.

"No…"

And there it was: the disbelief.

"That's not true…" gasped Helga in a trembling voice. "It's…not true. It's not true!"

"It's true, Helga," Miriam replied softly, very much contritely. Yet for all the understanding her tone was projecting, the result was hardly comforting to Helga.

"NO!" Helga continued, having swapped a trembling voice for a frantic one. "I won't believe it! All the crap I've had to endure and now you expect me to believe that this woman," – she pointed a harsh finger at Olga – "is my mother?"

"Helga, calm down!" Olga weighed in, trying to avert a round of hysterics from her daughter. She attempted another calming hand on Helga, only for the girl to recoil away from her touch and once again swat the hand away.

"Helga, no!" pleaded Arnold.

"Eleanor!" echoed Gertie sounding profoundly hurt to see Helga in her current state.

"Helga, that's not the way! Please! Be reasonable!" Arnold spoke again, over his grandmother.

Her current state was understandable, given Olga's reality-shattering disclosure. God no! The previous world was bizarre enough, but this? This was a curveball too many. Not that she had much love for her pale excuse of a family that would hardly give her the time of day. Only…even that was now a lie. So Arnold let her have her outbursts, within reason. Anything to release her pent-up rage. He wasn't even surprised when she put him in her crosshairs.

"What, are you on their side now?" accused Helga.

"This isn't about taking sides!" Arnold was quick to refute her rash allegation. "But lashing out blindly like that isn't helping anyone! Let's hear each other out before we make any foolish decisions!"

Unfortunately for those on her side, Helga was now unbound by such impractical notions as decorum and prudence, logic and rationality. "Yeah right!" she lashed out at Arnold. "Like your namby-pamby approach is going to be any good this time!"

"Listen to him, Eleanor!" Gertie tried once again to reach her. She had eschewed her eccentric mannerisms and her voice now sounded serious, almost desperate. "I know you're scared. I know you're confused. But please—"

"What do you know, Grandma?" Helga cut her off while shaking in anger. "Why should I listen to you when you don't even want to call me by my name! You're no better than my own family!"

It was unprecedented. Helga had never before been this indiscriminate in doling out her bitterness. With her world collapsing, all around her had become her enemies. Someone had to reign her in, somehow, to prevent the situation from escalating beyond control. Fortunately, someone did.

Olga made another bid at salvage. She lunged at Helga this time and wrapped her arms around the blonde girl for an almighty embrace from behind. As ever, she encountered resistance when Helga twisted and flailed for her freedom.

"Let go of me, Olga!" she loudly demanded. "Let go of me!"

This time though, Olga held firm as she weathered Helga's thrashing and her tirades. "Let go! Let go! You're not my mother!" Helga kept shouting.

But Olga was up to the task as she tightened her hold on her daughter and whispered for all to hear. "Sorry Helga, but it's true," she declared apologetically. "Sorry you had to hear about it like this."

But Helga held on to her stubbornness: "It's a lie..! It's all lies..!"

All the more reason for Olga to maintain her grasp ever more firmly. The rest of the gathering spent the following approximately two minutes silently watching Olga hugging Helga, refusing to yield. They watched as Helga's resolve gradually weakened. Her words still conveyed an intense distrust – "I don't believe you." – but the delivery thereof became softer and weaker with the passing minutes and seconds. Olga kept whispering reassurance after heartfelt reassurance to her, which did aid the de-escalation process.

"I know, I know," Olga continued to soothe the confused girl in her embrace. She too was starting to feel the weight of the emotion, as evidenced by the penitence in her voice. "I know. It's not fair and I'm sorry and I'll say it as many times as I have to."

Arnold even weighed in to encourage her. "That's it, Helga," he said softly from his side, leaning over toward her for emphasis. "Just let it all out. Just relax."

Eventually, Helga Pataki was doing just that, albeit with slightly hitched breathing. So too was there still some residual emotion in her words. "Why now? Why when I'm starting to make something of my so-called life? When I'm taking charge of it?"

"Helga!" – It was Gertie, this time using the Pataki girl's actual name – "Don't for one moment think that you're to blame for any of this. These are all things that you had no control over."

A notion supported by Phil: "Damn right, Missy. You made the most of the crap life handed you. You lived it on your terms."

Olga too, with: "Helga, it's all my fault that you had to grow up so quickly."

The chickadee. She knew it was the state bird of Maine.

She also knew it was the answer to the final question at the All-City Academic Competition. She knew it before the competition, she knew it after. But when it mattered most, she froze. She choked. In the time it took her to retrieve the answer from her brain, a rival had buzzed in with it and taken the win.

Her first loss: she felt gutted. How could it be? This wasn't right. She'd given the competition her all. Besides, she was Olga Pataki. Olga fucking Pataki: she never lost! Not after rocking A's and A+'s throughout her school career. Not after racking up a roomful of trophies and certificates.

Worse still was the knowledge that she had let Daddy down. His disappointment in her was worse than even the most convoluted knot in her stomach. It was apparent in his silence during the drive back home, and also in his silent treatment during the following days.

She fared little better at school, what with the constant jeering from her classmates. They were quick and persistent in reminding her of her shortcomings. Loudly or under their breaths. Mentions of how Olga Pataki, the perennial overachiever, holder of a tedious number of accolades, was human after all like the rest of them. And though she put up her usual cheerful front in class, come lunchtime she wanted to be nowhere near her peers.

The school's music room thus became her sanctuary. It was where she could feel sorry for herself, away from the throng, while aimlessly plinking away on the piano. That's how he noticed her. He walked in one day, having been alerted by the tickled ivories.

"Hi there! Why are you here all by yourself?"

She tried downplaying her situation, telling him that she preferred solitude during recess. He doubted her, wondering how someone as cute as she would choose such a dingy room instead of the fresh air outside. And as (a) he had found her at her most fragile and (b) she would have accepted any form of empathy at that moment, she unleashed a litany of the ills and injustices her life had just presented her and how she didn't know how to cope with them.

He was a grade above her, but he seemed nice enough. It didn't hurt that he was tall, slim, with tousled blonde locks. Reasonably good-looking too, with a roguish charm. Maybe she should have been wary when he disclosed his age: 13. Clerical error, he claimed. But that didn't matter, as he was there and he was listening to her.

As he did the following day at the same time in the same room.

And the next day.

And the day after that.

That was the day when she had her epiphany. She was only as good to others for as long as she delivered results, for as long as she had awards to show for it. Otherwise, who cared? Well, he did. He showed her support when no one else would. That realization finally broke her.

And made her accept his tight embrace as comfort.

And welcome his kiss which she let continue because it felt so good after all the crap she'd been enduring.

And when he ran his hands down from her shoulders to her waist, all the way to her hips, she didn't complain. He at least was giving her some much-needed attention. His accompanying caresses on her body were not unpleasant and certainly not unwelcome. He broke the kiss long enough to breathe into her ear what was to be the fateful question: "Do you want me to make you feel even better?"

No sooner had she said yes when his hands were up her skirt, his fingers stroking against her panties. Still she didn't object; it felt strange but agreeable, good in a way she'd never before experienced. It still felt good when he slipped his hand inside her underwear and kept at it. By the time he was between her legs and thrusting deep inside her, she'd stopped caring about her situation and any repercussions for her actions. It just felt so fucking good! It was all she could do not to scream as she experienced her first-ever climax. The ensuing cleanup did detract somewhat from their joy, but it was necessary lest any incriminating residue be left behind. Her lot wasn't improved as a result of the encounter, but at least he'd provided a pleasant distraction.

They parted ways and that was the last she saw of him for a long while. In fact, he was not to return to school again. She would later find out that there had indeed been a clerical bungle and that he'd been wrongly kept back a grade and that the day he'd had her was his last day before transferring to junior high.

She became aware of that fact only much later. It was the day after the day that began with her suddenly throwing up violently at home. When her mother approached her to ask if she was alright, Olga was clutching her stomach in agony as she softly whimpered: "Mommy? Mommy, my tummy really really hurts!"

Those were the events as Olga recalled them – again, superior recognitive abilities – but she had spared her audience the more graphic details in recounting those events. Nevertheless, her story invited the inevitable round of questions.

Starting…with Arnold: "Wait…Olga, are you saying that…?"

"Yes, Arnold," Olga softly nodded. She remained subdued in voice as she continued: "That I really was your age and Helga's when I fell pregnant with her."

"But isn't that too young?" Arnold followed up in all his naïveté. And amidst the seriousness of the situation, his grandparents couldn't help but smile inwardly at how he could hold on to his innocence in even the most amoral circumstances.

Never change, Kimba!

Never change, Short Man!

Olga too, as she answered him plainly with not a hint of condescension: "Yes it is, Arnold. I wasn't ready to have a child."

"Then why didn't you…you know?" asked Helga, still being held by her mother and looking – it had to be noted – not too uncomfortable. Not that she'd suddenly welcomed the notion of having Olga as her progenitor, but maybe she was too tired to continue fighting for the time being. Be that whatever it may, her voice – though still bitter – had softened somewhat, suggesting that at least a temporary ceasefire was in effect. "I mean…Bob could not have been too thrilled about his golden child suddenly being knocked up."

"Oh, he wasn't, daughter of mine," replied Olga. "But…"

On that night, Olga heard her parents having the worst argument she'd ever heard before or since. She was supposed to be asleep, but their angry words were keeping her awake. To her total lack of surprise, they were arguing about her.

"But B, we have to!" she heard her mother. "For god's sake, she's only eleven! Having the baby could kill her! Her body can't handle it!"

Her father, predictably, wasn't having it: "Look, if she's old enough to be fucking the first boy to say nice things to her, she's old enough to take the consequences!"

"Fuck you, B! That's your daughter you're talking about!"

"Hey! Hey! You might be comfortable with murder, but I'm not! Besides, the kid might teach Olga some responsibility!"

"Have you been listening? She's. Eleven! She's still in school! What will the teachers and the children say about it?"

"Fuck them and what they have to say! We'll take her out of school, say she's sick or something. We hide her from the whole fucking world, nail the biggest goddamn lid on her pregnancy until the baby comes!"

"You're really going to let her miss a whole year of school then?"

"Relax, will you? I'll get her a tutor while she's carrying. Hell, I'll have them sign one of my watertight NDA's before they're hired!"

"Oh, you've thought of everything, haven't you! How do we explain away the baby when it's born?"

"Dammit, woman! Do I have to do all the thinking around here? We don't say it's her child, we say it's yours. We say she got a new brother or sister or whatever!"

"Are you fucking serious, B? You expect people to believe that?"

"Look, we're done talking! That's the plan and we're sticking with it! No termination, no adoption, and that's final! We're officially in damage control mode. Remember, we Patakis have a reputation to maintain!"

"God, I need a drink..!"

The argument might have ended there, but Olga's inner turmoil was ongoing. As she lay, she thought of what it would be like to have the baby.

"Baby…" she whispered whimsically to herself.

Before having to pretend it was a sibling. She hoped it would be a girl, then she'd at least have a sister.

"…Sister…"

But what would she be: her baby or her sister?

"Baby…" she resumed whispering. "Sister..? Baby. Sister. Baby. Sister."

Back and forth she went, back and forth. Back and forth, until she smiled when the eureka moment hit her.

"Baby Sister!"

"Corny as hell!" scoffed Helga. "You're saying that's how you came up with 'Baby Sister'? You need to hire better writers."

"Scoff all you want, Helga," Olga countered, "but that's the truth."

Helga was still letting herself be held by Olga, showing no overt signs of resistance as observed by the rest of the room's occupants. Perhaps Helga's more passive demeanor was all a ruse and she still hated Olga's guts. Even if that was the case, at least this time she was hating Olga's guts on a first-name basis. Not quite the progress they were hoping for, but they took it.

"So she's here today because Big Bob cares more about his reputation?" Gertie asked as she considered the bizarre circumstances surrounding Helga's origin. To which Phill added: "Gotta admit, that's some fakakta logic right there!"

It was just as well that Helga and the Shortmans hadn't heard the full story. Once more there was a discrepancy between what Olga knew and what she had shared. She had omitted most of the argument, particularly Miriam's initial point of view, thus suggesting that the decision to keep Helga was an amicable one. Fortunately for Olga – and especially Miriam – the Shortmans let the matter rest after Phil's grumbling.

Helga, however…

"So where is he?" she asked. "Where's your mysterious sperm donor?"

Olga paused amid the shocked reactions to Helga's blunt question. She eventually responded with: "He's somewhere out of my life and yours too."

"Oh golly, I wonder why?" Helga continued taunting. "He must have realized the family he was about to be part of before running like hell."

"Don't flatter him!" Olga countered, brushing off her daughter's constant barbs. "I was just a conquest to him. He found me in a bad place and said just the right things to win me over. When Daddy tracked him down and told his family he'd gotten me pregnant, he just about peed his pants."

"So…man enough to make a baby, but not to become a father."

"Yes," Olga replied rather brusquely, irritated at having to dredge up the topic. "But seriously, Helga. Why the interest in him when you barely want to acknowledge your own family? Understand that he never wanted anything to do with you."

"No kidding?" Helga responded impassively. "Imagine that: a family member who wants nothing to do with me."

"That's not fair!" Olga retorted. "Maybe – maybe – your grandmother and I are late to the party, but from now on, we at least are willing to give you the time of day. And besides, Daddy fixed everything so he won't be a part of your life or mine."

"Yeah right!" Helga jeered back. "Like Bob does anything out of the goodness of his heart! There was money involved, wasn't there? With him, it's always about the green."

This time Miriam answered, being forced to concede: "Yes there was, Helga. But not for the reason you may be thinking."

Bob wanted to tear the little shit apart limb from limb. Unfortunately, the law wasn't on his side. Nor was it when he wanted to lay criminal charges against the boy. His lawyer advised him against it, citing that not only was the intended defendant a minor, but the act itself was between two minors claiming to have mutually consented. How would he prove otherwise?

One option remained: sue the bastard. After all, he had just defiled Bob's golden child, encroached upon her holy of holies. He'd tracked down the kid based on what Olga had told him, and damn him if he wasn't getting his pound of flesh! If not from the boy, then his parents. Big Bob Pataki and his lawyer railroaded the parents in family court, winning from the family child support until Olga's kiddo turned eighteen. Above that, The runt was to forfeit his parental rights – which seemed to faze his parents more than it did him. Finally, the gag order which barred the family from ever mentioning the case or the preceding events leading up to it.

Robert Pataki walked out of the court that day grinning as if he'd bagged both the Nemean Lion and the Lernaean Hydra. Among the Patakis, he was the only one smiling.

"I knew it," declared a wary Helga. "It's always about the money with him. Always about lining his pockets."

She was still being held by Olga and still hadn't made any bid for her freedom. Arnold noted it as much as anyone else, though he was the only one not blindly buying into her actions. For better or for worse, he was more intimately versed in Helga and her ways than anyone else in the room. As such, he knew what she was capable of, plus he had a lingering suspicion that for the time being she was more interested in gathering background information than in freedom. At least the going within the room seemed good as a result with Helga not within easy reach of a crowbar.

The conversation continued at a healthy canter with Miriam rebutting Helga's statement. "Helga, it wasn't like that!"

"OK then, surprise me!" the blonde girl challenged.

B, explained Miriam, always believed that his duties to his family began and ended with him providing for them. For the newborn christened Helga Geraldine Pataki, he'd made no exceptions. Being an astute businessman, he established a trust for Helga – same as he had for Olga – with an eye for her future. And though there wasn't always food on the table, it was never for a lack of funds.

Helga remained unsurprised, particularly at the last part. "Gee, I wonder why we wouldn't have food on the table some evenings. Right, Miriam?"

Her barb elicited a wince of shame from the Pataki matriarch; being sober apparently enabled her to acknowledge her failings as a caregiver. Helga sensed blood and pursued the matter: "And the smoothies? What was that all about?"

A sober Miriam was also an astute Miriam who could see immediately where Helga's inquisition was heading. "You're wrong about that, Helga!" she spoke in a rare emphatic voice.

Helga wasn't buying it. From within Olga's embrace, she went on the subdued warpath. "Oh please! How can I possibly be wrong? Your Pleasantville existence gets snafued because Olga here" – she made a motion to Olga with her head – "gets knocked up with me. If that happened to me, I'd be hitting the bottle pretty hard myself."

Miriam then proved herself capable of a slow, considered, and deliberate speech delivery. "Helga, even if that was true—"

"Oh, it is true, Miriam, and you know it!"

The bitterness was flaring up again in Helga's voice, threatening to put paid to the hard-won ceasefire. Olga and the Shortmans were ready to intervene with another collective appeal for calm. Once again, Miriam was to surprise them. "OK, Helga. Say it is true. Even so, none of it was your fault."

Unseen by Helga, the Shortmans were all nodding in agreement with Miriam's statement. They were unseen because Helga chose to focus solely on Miriam. "Well, if that's the case, then why did you all leave me on my own like you didn't want me?"

"That would be my fault," a downbeat Olga said softly to her daughter. "You see, Daddy had us all pretending you and I were sisters. And I was so eager to make him proud of me again that I just played along. And I suppose I played the game too well. I went back to getting all those awards and scholarships when I really should have been giving you all the attention."

"I'll say," quipped Helga. "And I suppose you kept calling me 'Baby Sister' more for your own benefit, just to remind yourself that oh yeah, you still have this daughter you brought into the world. What a sweet gesture!"

"Helga, now you're being unfair!"

It was Arnold, weighing in quite harshly. The Patakis found themselves taken aback by his sudden assertiveness, even Helga as she countered with: "What gives, Footballhead? Didn't you hear the backstory? Didn't you hear the lie everyone was living because of me?"

"Not everyone!" rebutted Arnold. She flinched at the remark, leading him to believe that he was on to something. "If it wasn't for the lie, we would never have met! You'd never have the friends at P.S. 118. We'd never have the fun times and adventures we did. It just wouldn't be the same without you! You matter to us, Helga. You matter to me."

He was assuming that his and Helga's previous universe shared enough past events for his points to be valid. Ghost Train, Das Subway (as it later was dubbed), Elk Island. Anything that might make her freeze in recognition. To his relief, she did freeze, with an expression that hinted at a familiarity with those events and more besides.

His advantage: time to press it.

"Helga, over time I've gotten to know you so much better."

He immediately knew he had to clarify that sentence, even before he saw the Pataki women glaring at him.

"You know, more than just that way! Long before that!"

The Pataki women were still glaring at him, but now he sensed he had their permission to continue with his case. "Look, maybe family life isn't all you wanted it to be, but I'm glad it played out the way it did!"

That came as a surprise if the Patakis' reactions were a reliable indicator. Good, he had their attention. "Maybe I'm selfish but knowing you has made my life so much more exciting. You taught me about living life how you want it, not in someone else's shadow!"

He made sure to nod toward Olga to emphasize his point before continuing.

"You showed me how you make the most out of impossible situations."

He felt this was as far as he could go in reminding her of her multiverse experiences without explicitly mentioning them. He saw how her expression was softening, which made it easier for him to deliver the final point.

"And also how you're in charge of your world and not the other way round!"

"Listen to him, Helga!"

This wasn't Gertie endorsing her grandson's wisdom. No, it was Miriam, backing a boy whose neck she wanted to wring barely twenty minutes ago. Despite having caught him in flagrante delicto with her granddaughter, Miriam was beginning to warm up to Arnold and his sincerity. She had begun to believe that this boy with the funny head cared very deeply about the youngest Pataki. Hence her endorsement.

"Helga, you did in your short time what I never could!"

"What's that? Stay sober?" Helga jibed back at Miriam.

"Now, Helga!" Gertie intervened, firmly but friendly, remembering to address the girl by her proper name. "We won't get anywhere by being salty like that."

"No, let her have that one," Miriam begged to differ. "I deserve it. I deserve it and much more besides."

She was smiling another melancholy smile as she turned to address Helga. "Helga, I'm sorry that you had to learn all of this about yourself. Let me just say it again: none of what happened in the past is your fault. None! Your mother and me, we're to blame. It was so much easier to live with the lie instead of confronting the reality. I just needed enough alcohol and coping with it became a breeze. It also helped that you never called us Mom and Dad. You must have noticed how we never got mad at you about that. It made everything easier to endure when we already thought that you didn't see us as your parents."

Helga eyed Miriam back as warily as ever. "So that's it?" she asked. "One explanation, one justification, and just like that I'm supposed to forgive you for ignoring me for all those years?"

Helga felt herself being held tighter by Olga, who also sought to address the issue. "Helga, you're not supposed to do anything. We're happy that you just heard us out."

Arnold's opinion was next. "Helga, why not just meet them halfway? I mean, look at them. They trusted you enough to tell you stuff that would make anyone else just flake out."

More positive reinforcement, this time from Phil: "Missy, if someone walked up to me and told me my whole life up to know was a farce, you'd be seeing how I'd react on the evening news!"

As tactless as his delivery was, those around him did at least get his point about how Helga had handled the situation thus far. Olga even felt bold enough to lean cheek-to-cheek into her daughter, and softly stage whisper: "Helga, how about we take this conversation back home?"

And Helga's eyes would shoot open at that suggestion: "Say what?"

Not that it amounted to much, for Miriam quickly drowned her out with: "That's a great idea! Helga, there's so much catching up to do!"

Helga didn't reply immediately. Instead, she silently appealed to the Shortmans and their superior wisdom with desperate saucers for eyes. Gertie responded with: "Child, kin is always kin. And when they come offering you an olive branch from the heart, you'd be wise to accept it."

"Unless of course, they're your uppity twin sister who just wants to give you grief every god-given chance she gets," added Phil, sounding like he was on another of his ranting tangents, "in which case they can burn forever in hell for all I care!"

"Grandpa!" Arnold scolded.

Gertie was less vocal. Her flat palm did all the talking when it found her husband's ear and left him yelping in pain as he dropped unceremoniously to the ground while cupping the stricken lobe. Gertie showed no sympathy as she looked down on him and barked: "Oh quit your bellyaching, you old coot! I'm sure I didn't rupture the eardrum this time!"

The Patakis could only stare at the spectacle, once more in awe of the Shortman matriarch and her powerful presence. Helga sat impressed by it while her elders were more than a little frightened. So much so that they quickly rose to their feet and backed away from the table. Gertie seized the chance to leap onto the table and strike a regal, imposing pose, complete with a revolutionary fist raised to the heavens. From that pose, she issued a stentorian edict that not even the gods above and below could ignore.

"Ladies, now is the time to talk things through but seriously! Respect each other, but don't hold back! Remember, this is your chance! This is the time for your own Treaty of Versailles! PEACE IN OUR TIME! Do you hear me? PEACE IN ALL TIME!"

Olga and Miriam were rooted where they stood, listening unwaveringly to Gertie's decree, too afraid to do anything but nod in deference. Helga, however, wanted to object. Gertie saw her intentions and knelt down to her, and declared: "Hey, nobody said it was going to be easy. Or that you have to like it."

Having said that, she fixed a stare directly to the eyes of the hoyden. "Helga," Gertie spoke in a soft voice radiating with empathy, "maybe you'll work it out, maybe you won't. But wouldn't it be better to regret having failed than regret not having tried at all?"

And though her smile remained, there was now a tinge of sadness to it. "Think about it. How will it feel twenty years from now to think of the stuff you could have said, should have said, to someone who wanted you to know that you matter to them? How about Fifty? Sixty? Seventy? Good or bad, things only happen if you open up with others and take a chance with them."

With that, she cast a sly, knowing glance toward Arnold before returning to the blonde girl.

"Only when you truly open up and say what must be said."

Arnold saw a chance to weigh in on the matter too as he stood up and walked around the table to be with Helga. Miriam and Olga could only watch on as he did. They were afraid to interfere, lest they anger Gertie. They watched him place a hand on Helga's shoulder, which she accepted more readily than any of their previous advances.

"Helga," he spoke with the same empathy as his grandmother, "you decided to take a chance with me. I mean…we didn't get off to the best start, but you were willing to make it work between us, come what may. And you know what? I am so, so glad that you did and now I can't even imagine any other universe where you didn't."

And for the first time since the meeting began, Helga expressed something resembling hope as she looked up at Arnold. Arnold had more to say with: "And besides…" – he smiled his usual warm smile – "…if you could get through to my heart, then anything is possible."

Next came a particularly bold move from an occasionally bold kid as Arnold leaned over to kiss Helga flush on the lips. Gertie was pleasantly surprised by his move. The elder Pataki women were once again left speechless at the sight. They'd have voiced their opinions of the boy's pluck. By any right, they should have been horrified by what they were witnessing. Still, initial impressions notwithstanding, Arnold had throughout the conference shown himself to be the complete opposite of Helga's father. What was also plain to them was how deeply he cared about the youngest Pataki. Maybe it wasn't full-blown love – not yet, anyway – but it went well beyond merely a carnal attraction. And the smile he'd left on her face spoke of her willingness to try reconciling with her family.

So yes, there was that.

The Patakis left The Sunset Arms with varying degrees of optimism. Miriam and Olga in particular were sensing a chance at reconciliation.

Arnold went to bed that night after enduring a brief talking-to from his grandparents about discretion and protection as they pertain to relationships. After that, he lay in bed wondering about Helga and how she was coping at home. He couldn't help but think her mother and grandmother would keep their word and give it their best to try and mend their relationship with her.

He had a good feeling about it.

Right until he saw Helga at school on Monday morning.

And that's it for another chapter, dearest readers! As ever, you have my unyielding gratitude for your continued support. I hope that this chapter too was up to your exacting standard. Whether or not that is the case, I'd very much like to read your thoughts, so please leave a review.

Speaking of which...

To the Guest reviewer of the previous chapter. I hope this chapter answered your questions while still entertaining you. And if Arnold surprised you then, how about this chapter? In front of Miriam and Olga, no less!

With that, onward now to the notes:

Let's talk about Bob. I wasn't aiming to portray him as an asshole with a heart of gold. Instead, I thought about playing to most of the readers' expectations. Chances are good you see him as a narrow-minded, conservative-leaning, capitalistic asshole. So instead of redeeming him, I thought to portray those characteristics in such a way so as not to make you like him, but to pause for a bit while deciding whether or not you still hate him. Let me know if I pulled it off.

Incidentally, I consider SakiKitty's portrayal of Bob in "Sixth Grade Beginnings" to be the best depiction of the character. I'd be lying if I told you I didn't allow myself to be influenced by that version.

You've seen that I didn't go into much detail with Helga's father. The main reason was that I didn't feel that going into any significant detail would add to the story. Helga already thinks family is overrated, and her father is dead to Olga anyway, so knowing him would do nobody any good. In many ways, I treated him as a faceless male character one tends to find in hentai anime, or in more mainstream anime as the anonymous lost love.

Anyway. onward to the Tidal List:

These Dreams – Heart

Red Rain – Peter Gabriel

Cry For Help – Rick Astley

And that concludes this chapter. folks. Until next time, stay safe and take nothing for granted.