Disclaimer: The Hey Arnold characters belong to Craig Bartlett, and to 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 for the man.
ICYMI: Confessions and admissions among close friends. Plus, Olga's prowess with a crowbar.
And with that, the next chapter awaits!
12. Armistice?
After Helga's blockbuster revelations during recess, Arnold felt there was nothing more that could surprise him for at least the rest of the day. In fact, the rest of the academic day was defined by his scholastic indifference. Everything else about P.S. 118 seemed insignificant when compared to his alone time with Helga in the auditorium.
Nothing indecent happened; they didn't even kiss. They merely sat in silence, holding each other. It was a long moment during which they could wish for nothing more. So profound was their shared moment that Helga forgot to fill him in on what she had for his ears only. So profound was their shared moment that Arnold never thought to ask.
"Come with me after school, Arnold," she eventually told him as recess ended, "and I promise you'll find out."
When they met Olga, she was seated on a bench in City Park overlooking the lake. Helga had promised Arnold more details; she said nothing about who would be giving those details.
Arnold remained cautious as he greeted the Pataki elder. "Um…hello, Olga…Miss Pataki..?"
He wasn't completely sure about his standing with Olga, hence his uncertainty about how best to address her. Fortunately for him, Olga appeared to have mellowed out significantly since their first encounter the previous night. Her tone even suggested that she was every bit as understanding of his and Helga's relationship as Helga had portrayed her.
"And hello to you too, Arnold!" she cordially replied while tittering at his nervous tone. "I don't know what my daughter has told you about me, but please. Let's allow yesterday's bygones to be just that. And 'Olga' is just fine!"
"Yeah…" Arnold havered. "Pleased to meet you."
"And you too!" Olga proudly proclaimed. "I thought a more relaxing setting would be better for everyone! And look! I bought us ice cream!"
She flashed three Jolly Olly popsicles to her guests as evidence. "And guess what, Helga!" she proudly beamed. "No strawberries! I still remember your allergy!"
"Yeah, whoop-de-bleepin'-do!" Helga groused back. "That stuff's probably so full of artificial flavors anyway. I doubt anyone at the factory would know a real strawberry if it kicked them in the ass!"
Olga displayed a little disapproval toward Helga's utterance, though not enough to allow her to be derailed. "Oh, does that mean you don't want any?" she countered back waving the frozen treats at her daughter in a deliberately teasing manner.
One thing about Helga: within reason, she wasn't averse to saying no to free treats, no matter her opinions of the bearer. And so…
"I think I liked you better when you were still clueless," she muttered as she accepted Olga's offer.
"What can I say, my daughter?" Olga conceded. "I learned from the best!" She then turned to Arnold and offered him a popsicle, which he accepted. He took the time to observe the blonde woman's demeanor, which left him cautiously optimistic. Olga's chipper tone seemed genuine. She appeared every bit her usual vivacious self, a million miles removed from her unhinged crowbar persona as Helga had described in the auditorium. Helga, though, wasn't fooled.
"Yeah, you can lay off the Prozac now," she stated to her newly-minted mother. "He knows about your rampage last night."
"Aw, don't be such a downer, Helga!" Olga scolded, still in what could previously have been dubbed her 'Baby Sister' voice. "I mean, we're about to talk about a serious topic. Why not have some sweet treats to help ease us into matters?"
The ice cream proved a welcome delay. The trio enjoyed theirs while on the bench. Olga was seated strategically in the center, flanked by Helga and Arnold. Some small talk was shared, mostly involving the weather, before moving on to Olga's teaching vocation way up north. Unsurprisingly, they found Olga quite chatty about the teaching profession and how fulfilling it was to her.
But then…
"OK," Olga announced an end to the pleasantries, "we'll come back to my teaching job. But for now," – she turned to Arnold with a more serious look – "I'm guessing, Arnold, that you're curious about what happened last night after the trophy room and why I insisted on letting you know about it first."
Arnold was surprised at the elder woman's frankness over the matter.
"That girl…is Olga's daughter!" Miriam announced angrily as she too marched into the room. Bob turned to look at his wife, to see instead a driven and determined woman who would suffer no lip from him. "She's our granddaughter," she continued tearing into her husband, "and it would be best if both of us remember that!"
Bob's attention was diverted to Miriam and her bombshell words which only added to his disbelief. Very shortly thereafter, his disbelief boiled over and developed a voice.
"You mean she knows?" he asked Miriam in bluster and confusion.
Helga was next to speak, which she did knowing that Bob's response would be one to relish. "Well, Bob. Looks like there are some details you need to be filled in on."
"I'm afraid so, B," Miriam added, her tone mirroring Helga's with its complete lack of sympathy.
"But how?" Bob asked, too incredulous to be angry.
"Because she's my daughter, Daddy," answered Olga as she stood behind Helga and placed her hands on the girl's shoulders. "She's a Pataki, remember?" she continued as she smirked almost mockingly at her father. "And whatever a Pataki sets their mind to, they achieve!"
Miriam was on hand once more to back her daughter. "Really, B! Did you think your secret would last forever against someone as intelligent and resourceful as Helga?"
"I'm supposed to be proud of her for that?" Bob clapped back, having found his angry voice. "She's been nothing but trouble to Olga and this family ever since—"
THWACK!
Miriam's slap across his cheek stopped him instantly. He stopped to take in her look, not of anger, but of grim determination. Not just him, but Olga and Helga too, neither of whom could believe what they were witnessing. Miriam gave them all a silent three-count before speaking.
"I would suggest choosing your next words very carefully, Robert," she said with an eerie calm about her.
"You too, Miriam?" an incredulous Bob gasped at what his wife had just done. "What the hell is going on here? Don't tell me she's gotten to you too!"
Astonishingly enough, Miriam's second slap was louder and more searing, as was her reproof.
"What? I'm incapable of making my own decisions? You'd rather I was the docile wifey who always stayed out of your way?" the matriarch jeered. "I mean…what am I to you, anyway? A partner, a convenience, or a boozy pain in the ass?"
"Now wait a minute!" Bob yelled back, not wanting to be on the back foot. "What are you slapping me for?"
"Like you even have to ask," his livid wife retaliated. "Two slaps? That's nothing compared to the crap you've brought on this family!"
Whether through ignorance or pride, Bob wouldn't relent. "Hey hey hey! If you're talking about your drinking, that's on you, Miriam! I didn't tell you to reach for the smoothies! You're my wife, this is my family! I bust my hump off to keep you provided for. Twenty-plus years of marriage, I never once hit you! Never so much as raised my hand to you or anyone in this house!"
"Wow!" Helga jibed. "Call the Nobel Committee! Tell them to warm up that Peace Prize!"
Bob wanted to redirect to his granddaughter's snide remarks, but Miriam brought him back to the matter at hand. "You know what, B? Sometimes…just sometimes… I wish you would hit me! At least then I'd know you're giving me some attention! Maybe it would show that you have some pride in our marriage!"
At that remark, none in the room were more gobsmacked than Bob.
"Miriam!" Bob sputtered, his disbelief now abject. "How can you even say such a thing? I would never even think of doing that to you, no matter what!"
"Oh yes!" Miriam countered, channeling a sarcastic voice that would be the envy of her granddaughter. "You absorb yourself in your work, you only acknowledge those who you want to acknowledge! I mean, Jesus Christ, B!"
She motioned to the younger ladies and resumed with: "Look at the powder keg you lit! Then you covered it up and pretended everything was hunky dory. And now you have the nerve to be surprised to see how it's all blown up in your face!"
"Yeah? Well, what about you and Olga?" countered Bob. "This isn't all on me and you know it. You two could have told her the truth, but you chose to go along with the lie. You're no better, both of you!"
If that statement was meant as a gotcha, then it was a spectacular failure.
"That's true," Miriam conceded. "And we've admitted to it all. We openly confessed to all our fuckups! Now it's your turn!"
"Helga and I left Mommy and Daddy to their arguing," Olga explained. "From what I could gather, Daddy spent the night on the couch."
"Wow," Arnold weighed in while not quite knowing how to comment. He settled for: "That sounds…harsh."
Helga's response, by contrast, was more nonchalant. "On the other hand, the upside was that come dawn, Miriam had a proper breakfast waiting for me."
To which Olga admonished with: "Helga! There's more to positive change than just breakfast!"
Helga showed no contrition with her motivation: "Listen. When I can count all the breakfasts Miriam's ever made for me on one hand, I'll take positive change wherever I can find it."
"Well…yes," Olga was forced to concede. "Although I was heartened that he stayed in the house instead of bailing on us. Who knows? Maybe they'll start talking things out. Who knows..?"
"Ah yes. Olga Pataki," Helga was quick to comment. "Ever the eternal optimist."
Her reward was a stern glare from her mother, together with: "Helga, I get it. You may not feel much love for them, but they're still my parents. If there's any chance of them working things out between them, you know I'm going to support them."
"Sorry," Arnold interrupted, "but do you think I should even be hearing any of these things."
He shifted uncomfortably on his spot and resumed with: "Not that I'm not honored that you'd want to share this part of your life with me, but still…"
Olga looked at him with an odd look of approval, which gave way to a sad-looking smile before she answered. "Don't worry Arnold. That's as much as you need to know about what's happening in our house. In any case, that's not even the reason we wanted you to join us."
"It isn't?"
"Well, doi, Footballhead!" Helga answered on her mother's behalf. "You think I'd drag you out here just to share something as trivial as that with you?"
"Then what?" asked Arnold, his curiosity well and truly piqued.
Helga came down the stairs at the crack of dawn expecting the nuclear apocalypse on the ground floor. Instead, she was greeted by a hot and hearty breakfast on the kitchen table. The biggest surprise was not how appetizing it looked, nor the fact that it existed at all.
"Oh, you're awake!"
The biggest surprise was twofold. First: Miriam. Having just greeted the girl so sweetly, she stood proud at having prepared the meal. Helga was surprised into barely being able to return the greeting. Miriam tittered at her granddaughter's surprise.
"Come on. Sit down and enjoy!"
And with that came the second part of the biggest surprise. When sober and aware, Miriam was a damn good cook, as evidenced by Helga devouring the breakfast. No sooner had she finished her meal and thanked Miriam – a bonus surprise in and of itself – when Olga walked into the kitchen looking lively enough to suggest that none of the earlier ugliness had ever happened.
"Good morning, Helga!" she beamed. "Glad to see you among the living!"
Helga outdid herself by not being too annoyed by her mother's overbearing jois-de-vivre. She even managed a half-decent acknowledgement of the elder's presence.
"So…" Olga continued. "Are you ready for school? Want me to walk with you?"
Maybe Helga would have objected, maybe she wouldn't. All of which was moot as she found herself being escorted to P.S. 118 by Olga. Somehow it all felt oddly comforting, knowing that she was being accompanied by someone from within her family who wanted to be with her. At this thought, she allowed herself a faint smile. Halfway along the route, her world changed once more.
"Helga…"
It was Olga, this time in a much more reluctant voice. She didn't continue, as if she didn't know how to. Her hesitation was enough for Helga to turn her way and be curious.
"Yes?" she responded, cordially if not completely politely.
"I know it may be too soon…"
"Yes?" repeated Helga.
"But maybe…"
"Come on, out with it!" Helga demanded, now irritated. "Or am I going to have to use the crowbar on you to get an answer?"
She wouldn't have to, as Olga complied with: "How do you feel about moving to Alaska with me?"
"OK, so you've been thinking about it, haven't you, Helga?" Arnold asked. The question surprised Helga. His statement caught Helga's attention, and with a patent-pending mixture of annoyance and admiration, Arnold's one and only looked back at him from her side of Olga. Not that it deterred him: "That's why you needed some space this morning, didn't you?"
"You've done it again, Footballhead!" she sighed. "You've ruined the suspense!"
And it was Olga who spoke up in Arnold's defence. "Well, that's to be expected now that you've gotten to know each other as well as you have."
Her remark caused a loud red hue on the kids' cheeks, which Olga seemed to milk for more fun when she added: "Who knows? Only a matter of time before you start finishing each other's sentences."
"Focus, mother dearest!" Helga attempted to get the conversation back on track. "We didn't come here for you to make fun of our relationship!"
Just then, she hesitated. Then she froze. An act that didn't go unnoticed.
"Helga..?" from Arnold.
"Helga..?" from Olga.
"Is something wrong?"
Nothing was wrong. Or was it? Helga had suddenly tuned out her companions through an equally sudden recollection. In her mind, she was back in Phoebe's room with some of the half-pint's words stuck in a permanent loop.
"...there may be idiosyncrasies in this world that didn't exist in your previous worlds. Potentially earth-shattering idiosyncrasies, similar in impact to what you encountered in your previous world."
And boy was she in the wake of one doozy of an idiosyncrasy!
"Helga!"
That did the trick, snapping her back to the here and now. She rejoined Arnold and Olga and found them looking somewhat concerned by her stillness.
"Helga," asked Olga. "Are you OK? Do you still want to tell him, or would you like me to do it?"
Helga needed a few deep breaths before resolving: "No, I'm fine."
Then she looked back at Arnold and another pearl of Phoebe's wisdom started playing on another loop.
"Remember the potential hurt Arnold in particular may face if this endeavor of yours doesn't play out the way you want it to. Remember that this matter no longer revolves around just what you want."
But she had to press on. For better or worse, what she and Arnold had could be considered a relationship and so had to be treated with the necessary openness and honesty.
"Well, you see, Footballhead…"
Olga's question stopped Helga in her tracks. She turned to fix a look of radioactive incredulity on the woman formerly known as her older sister. She wanted to respond with an almighty "WHAT THE FUCK?", but fortunately Olga seemed to have anticipated that response and cut her off by immediately laying down her case.
"I can't imagine it's going to get any better for you in that house now that your grandparents are at a major crossroads in their marriage."
Helga, having regained a measure of sass, muttered back: "Yeah, like it was all milk and honey before last night."
"Listen, Helga," Olga's urgency cut through any disparagement Helga had planned. "I need you at least to hear me out now. I'm taking this decision very seriously! This is not some Big Sis/Little Sis project for me to humblebrag about. This isn't about me."
She paused to look her daughter in the eye as a display of her earnestness. Helga appeared to be genuinely processing Olga's words. Good. Unfortunately, what the mother also saw in the youngster was a sense of shock that had survived even the destructive rampage in the trophy room and was now distilled down to its purest possible state. Worse still, that shock was fast developing into an utterance of "Are you fucking serious?", so Olga acted quickly. She grabbed her daughter for another hug and was surprised by the girl's apparent disinterest.
"It shouldn't be difficult to make it happen," she continued. "I'm positive your grandparents won't hesitate to sign over their parental rights to me and—"
That's when she felt a jolt as Helga interjected: "Where do you get off trying to sneak such an announcement on me?"
"Helga, I—" Olga wanted to explain. Once again, Helga denied her.
"Why are you still treading carefully around me all the time?" the daughter launched at her mother as she pulled away from the embrace. She then glared at Olga as she continued. "Is this what I get for wanting to give you a chance? Do you still see me as this fragile, delicate little baby sister who needs to be coddled all the time?"
"No, Helga!" Olga tried countering. "This isn't because I don't respect you!"
She paused again to assess Helga. Her daughter's expression all but defied her to give a satisfactory answer. Credit to Olga, she would rise to her daughter's implicit challenge.
"Look, I make decent money," she continued pleading her case. "My home life is stable enough. I've got space for you, you'll be well looked after. Plus, I can get you into some of the better schools in the area."
Helga continued processing Olga's words under her mother's anticipatory stare. At last, she spoke, and calmly at that. "Do you want a decision right now?"
"Of course not now!" Olga reassured.
"Well then," ventured Helga, testing her clout with Olga. "Can we have this conversation later this afternoon?"
"You want Arnold to hear this, don't you?"
Olga's question had more or less the same effect as a tactical nuke. Any resistance Helga may have been clinging to, vanished. In its place, surprise that her mother would broach that topic. More so that Olga was 100% spot on with her conclusion. Helga's response was in no way helped when Olga followed up her statement with a smile combining motherly understanding and sly smugness.
"Hey, if I had such a decision to make, I'd also want the love of my life to be part of the conversation!"
"Woah!"
It was all response Arnold could manage amidst the revelations. His answer may not have hinted that he was giving the matter its due consideration, but his serious expression left no such doubt.
"Yeah, Footballhead," sighed a neutral-sounding Helga. "Whoa indeed."
Olga attempted some mediation with: "Arnold, please don't take this the wrong way. This has nothing to do with what happened between you and Helga last night. I still think it's wrong what you two have been doing, but that's neither here nor there. What matters is how good to each other you've been and how good for each other you are."
Olga's endorsement of Helga and Arnold's relationship was genuine. Her voice sounded contrite, conveying true sadness about the news she and Helga were delivering.
"But why can't you come back to Hillwood and start teaching over here?" asked Arnold. His question went straight to Helga's heart. The blonde hoyden couldn't help but be enamored by her beloved's willingness to bat not just for her, but for them as a couple. Unfortunately, she already knew the answer to that one.
"You see, Arnold," Olga explained, "there's a freeze on new hires at the Hillwood schools. I'd love to return, but until they lift the freeze, there's nothing I can do."
"Oh."
Again, that was the only response Arnold could marshal. When he focused on Helga, he was expecting an angry, disappointed look berating him for coming up short when it truly mattered in the "Good Plans" department. Instead, there was a calm resignation about her.
"You know, Arnoldo," she breathed out, "this is just karma come to kick my ass."
"What do you mean by that?" a confused Arnold queried.
Some sadness crept into Helga's countenance as she explained: "She's in Alaska because I tricked her into moving there. Long story short, I wanted her out of her hair and now it's all backfired."
"Helga…" Arnold wanted to comfort her, only to be denied.
"Or I can always move to the Sunset Arms, how about that?" Helga suggested half-heartedly. "Think about it! Two lovers finally reunited! All others forsaken!"
And in a day marked by a litany of surprises for Helga, Arnold would provide the biggest yet.
"Helga," he solemnly began. "I get it. I know how much you'd want that. I won't lie, I'd want it too."
Not for the first time did he peer over to Olga to determine whether or not he'd overstepped any boundaries. Olga had a look suggesting that he'd be fine as long as he trod carefully. OK, not yet on thin ice. So he proceeded.
"But this is about what you need. And right now, you need your mother. You need family that loves you and will care for you. Do you have any idea what I wouldn't do for an opportunity like this? To have my parents back with me and to have a life with them? Helga, you've got a chance that I may never have! You really should take it!"
Olga looked at him in hope while Helga seemed unmoved. Arnold assumed she was about to disapprove of his little speech, so he moved to clarify: "Helga, I'll be sad to see you go, I really will. But…"
Still unmoved.
"But I love you enough to want you to be happy in your life, with or without me."
Just like that, he'd done it. That word: 'love'. He'd just blurted it out, and in front of a witness. A key witness who was now staring at him in bewilderment. He too could scarcely believe the audacity he'd just displayed that trumped even the previous night's kiss in full view of his family and Helga's.
Speaking of Helga.
She was looking as if she wholeheartedly approved of his sentiment, though she seemed subdued in her expression thereof. She seemed melancholy about his confession. Why? He had to know.
"Helga?" he asked.
No immediate response.
"Helga, did I say something wrong?"
A deep, loving sigh from the girl he loved accompanied a soft shake of her head. Then…
"Oh Arnold, you lovelorn fool. You kind, considerate, selfless paragon of human virtue," she spoke, no less melancholy than she appeared. "I was right. Sometimes you are too pure of heart for your own good."
"What do you mean?" he asked, looking also at Olga for some clue on what her daughter could have meant. He got nothing and so looked back at Helga, who for all her airs looked as if what she was about to say was tearing her apart.
"It's not like I'm taking you for granted…don't get me wrong because I love you too, with all my being."
How she wished she could have spoken those words under more pleasant circumstances.
"But…but you'll always be you and I've always loved you for that and I always will. I mean…what I'm trying to say is…well, I figured you'd say what you just said…" – and a long, uncertain wavering before – "…and that's why I decided before I came to school to move to Alaska with…"
Arnold and Olga were looking intently at her as she briefly choked on her words. Knowing that she had their support during this difficult decision wouldn't reduce the lump in her throat nor the sudden dryness on her tongue, but she had to say those last words out loud.
"…with my mother."
She saw Arnold's conflicted reaction: joy for her; sadness for them. She could only look back at him apologetically. Look back…and wonder if acting in her best interests would always hurt the way it currently did.
Olga didn't immediately spirit Helga away from Hillwood. Oh no, it wouldn't be that simple. There'd be myriad hoops and bureaucracy to negotiate. First would be for Bob and Miriam to transfer their parental rights over to Olga, which would prove easier than expected given that it would proceed uncontested.
Then there were the other considerations.
Moving Helga over to Alaska.
Many additions for Olga under the category marked "Dependents".
Finding a place in a school for Helga at short notice.
At every turn, another appointment to be made. A different i to dot, a new t to cross.
While Olga returned to Alaska to toil on Helga's behalf, Helga would remain at P.S. 118 for as long as her mother's arrangements would take. She'd continue staying with her grandparents, of whom Bob was promised that the crowbar was but a taste of what would happen should anything disagreeable befall their granddaughter. As long as it meant proper meals for Helga and no unfavorable comparisons to Olga, it was all good as far as she was concerned.
Naturally, Phoebe and Gerald were informed the next day in a similar meeting in the auditorium. Their response was a medley of understanding and – mostly from Phoebe – emotion at odds with logical detachment. While she acknowledged the significant step her best friend had taken towards a shot at personal and emotional healing, her felicitations came from behind misty eyes and a borderline runny nose.
Helga herself wasn't immune to the gravity of the situation as she too had to stifle a tear or two upon realizing how much she would be missed. The moment was emotional enough for Helga to hug even Gerald while making him promise to be there for and be good to Phoebe.
"You never know what might happen if I'm not around to keep her in check…" she ominously teased.
And while Gerald was the only one in the group not in on the joke, he nonetheless promised that he'd be there for his babe as long as she would have him.
The topic of how Helga would break the news to the rest of the posse was briefly raised, only for the blonde girl to declare that "Now isn't the time" and "I'll cross that bridge when I get there". Her friends opted to trust her judgment and so let that particular matter rest for the time being.
That was Tuesday. Since then, life at P.S. 118 had proceeded no differently for those not aware of Helga's situation. Those that were, did their best not to betray the significant event looming over the horizon.
It was now Friday evening and Arnold was once again relaxing in the backyard sauna at The Sunset Arms. Only, it was much less makeshift in nature. The structure was now more akin to a proper shed, with a sturdy frame, and thicker wooden panels. Slightly bigger benches too, not to mention a proper hinged door that could be latched from the inside.
"Because sometimes a young man just needs his privacy, eh Short Man?"
Those were the words of Phil, who unbeknownst to his grandson had modified the structure over the week. The new sauna still made steam and it still offered a place for Arnold to clear his mind at the end of a hectic school week. And there was so much more than usual to expunge, if only temporarily.
He was well on his way to a zen state when he sensed it.
Not heard.
Not smelled.
Sensed.
A presence well-known to him.
He didn't know where exactly it was, only that he could sense its presence in a way that defied normal human cognizance. He rose to his feet. He closed his eyes. He stood still. He sensed.
Seconds passed.
He adjusted the towel around his waist before stepping toward the door. Once there, he undid the latch and opened the door. He stood unsurprised by the sight of Helga as she was reaching for the door handle. She had barely reacted to his presence when he closed in on her, cupped her cheeks, and kissed her intensely on the lips. To that, she reacted much more quickly as she returned his kiss with equal intensity. The osculation proved to be a lengthy one before the couple broke it to catch their breaths. Only then did the social courtesies commence.
"Oh hi, Arnold," Helga greeted Arnold, not one whit abashed. "You weren't in your room, you weren't in the shower, so I thought you might be here."
"I thought it was you out there," Arnold professed. "Don't know how, but I sensed you were nearby."
His statement took Helga briefly aback before she recovered to fire back with: "Well, I suppose it's way cooler than saying you could smell me. That would just be creepy, you having a smell fetish or something."
They shared a light chuckle over Helga's remark before she peered inside the sauna and appeared as impressed with the interior as she was with the exterior.
"Love what you've done with the place!" she proclaimed.
"Oh, this was all Grampa's doing," Arnold corrected her.
"I see…" replied Helga. "I guess that explains that," she continued as she pointed at the latch.
"Yeah," shrugged Arnold. "Something about privacy."
"I see…" repeated Helga.
"So…what brings you here?" Arnold asked, pretending to be coy.
"Well, if you must know, Footballhead," Helga answered in mock annoyance, "I've been thinking just how pointless it is to worry over something that's going to happen whether we want it to or not. So instead of worrying, why not just enjoy the time we have left together?"
"Mmm, you might have a point," Arnold concurred after considering the matter for all of half a second.
"So are you going to let me in?" Helga enquired.
Of course he said yes.
For one, the chance to enjoy Helga and her company was a no-brainer. Secondly, it was clear that Helga had been in his room. She was wearing one of his checked shirts…and nothing else.
And that's it for the chapter. As ever, my eternal thanks to you for your continued support. Special thanks to those who reached out to me via PM or otherwise to discuss specifics about this story. The general opinion of this story seems to be "It's well-written but I don't know how to feel about it". And you know what? I'm cool with that. I believe there's more to writing M-rated stories than merely spicing up the material. It's also about challenging the reader's mind and perceptions. It's about presenting scenarios that are morally ambiguous with no clear-cut right or wrong, good or bad. You, the reader, are charged with making your own interpretations and drawing your own moral conclusions...
So I am heartened to no end to know that my readers are indeed taking the story seriously, beyond just the spicier bits. I find it the most rewarding aspect in presenting a chapter to you, though a review or two posted to the site would also be appreciated, even an anonymous one. Don't worry, I won't judge...
And speaking of reviews...
Guesty McGuester: I hope this chapter was worth the 84-year wait. I hope that I've lived up to my supposed talent of keeping you in suspense.
Some quick notes. Being South African, I've no idea of the specifics of transferring parental rights of a child and moving said child across US state borders. I could only assume that it isn't easy and would be time-consuming. So I was deliberately vague in depicting it as a maze of bureaucracy.
I deliberately avoided having Helga move into the Sunset Arms simply because I felt there was nothing I could add to this particular fanfic trope. At least, not against such implementations as in DeepVoice'06's "Living With Helga" and SakiKitty's sublime "Sixth Grade Beginnings".
So now we come to the Tidal List for this chapter. Just so you know, these are the songs on Tidal that I listened to that influenced the writing of this chapter the most. Have a listen; maybe you'll agree. Anyway, this chapter's list is:
Romeo and Juliet – Dire Straits
Hey – Fatima Rainey
Leaving Me Now – Level 42
Everyday – Phil Collins
Here's Where the Story Ends – The Sundays
I Won't Hold You Back – Toto
And oh look! That's it for this chapter. See you in the next one! Stay safe, and take nothing for granted.