Chapter 47

A Show and Dinner, Part 4

My Dinner with Arnold (and Brainy and Shaia)

Chez Paris, Saturday Night

-HELGA-

"I believe we had a reservation for 6:30?" Arnold asked.

"Ah yes," the snooty French maître'd answered, checking his notepad. "Shortman, party of four." He eyed the four of us suspiciously. I was no telepath (well, not when it came to human minds, anyway) but I still was pretty sure what was going through his mind. Teenagers. If it was up to me, zey would be banned. Zeir youth and lust for life offends my delicate stereotypical snotty French sensibilities. Why, if it was up to me, all of zem would be rounded up and forced to slave away in our stinky cheese mines! I was unsure if there actually were stinky cheese mines, but it wouldn't surprise me.

"Yes, your table is ready. Walk zis way please," he said, striding off with a stiff snooty French maître'd gait. Brainy shrugged, and began walking after hm in perfect imitation. Old joke, but still funny. I allowed myself a chuckle or two. More would be undignified. This was a fancy place, after all.

Honestly, it felt kind of surreal to be here. This, in my mind, was our place. It was, after all the first place we'd looked at me with something more than just fear or disgust, the first place he'd seen me as someone who could be more than a friend.

…to be fair, I wasn't exactly me when that happened. I'd gotten the brilliant idea of impersonating Arnold's French pen pal Cecile so that I could arrange a Valentine's Day date with him. I gave myself a full makeover for the night, and I have to say, I cleaned up pretty nicely, even if it turned out that the hair salon I went to was actually a dog groomer. I would have made a very hot poodle, at least.

Anyway, as it turned out, despite utterly failing at being convincing as a farmer's daughter from the French countryside, somehow, there was actually something of a spark between me and Arnold that night. In fact, I thought things were going pretty well until I found out that he'd been two-timing me that night with sixth-grade bimbo Routh McDougal (who, for her part, didn't seem aware that she'd been on a date at all). And, wouldn't you know it, when I was laying into Arnold for not being honest with me, who should show up but the real Cecile, who just so happened to pick Valentine's Day to pay Arnold a surprise visit. Proof that karma exists, I suppose.

My second visit to Chez Paris didn't go much better. I'd won a free dinner in a school rafter and decided that it would be the perfect opportunity to show Arnold that I wasn't just some angry troglodyte, that I could be as polite and refined and sophisticated as anyone… specifically, as polite and refined and sophisticated as a certain Lila Sawyer, who had by now taken Ruth's place as Arnold's go-to crush. And, actually, it was kinda going well; I ordered the best food, made witty repartee, and even got Arnold to admit he was impressed with me. And then it all went south when I realized I'd taken everyone to the wrong restaurant. I mean… it was an honest mistake! What kind of clod opens a French restaurant across the street from another French restaurant, then gives it almost exactly the same name? That's just terrible business sense.

So, with a huge dinner in our bellies and absolutely no way to pay for it, I resorted to increasingly desperate measures to get out of having to pay, up to and including getting the restaurant shut down for a roach infestation… one that Nadine arranged for me. I wonder if Rhonda is aware that her girlfriend has such a nefarious criminal past? It worked, too… well, up until Nadine got the brilliant idea of admitting her part in the scheme within earshot of Arnold, who impressed upon my atrophied conscience to go back and admit that I attempted to dine and dash, and the five of us got roped into spending the rest of the night washing dishes to pay for all the food we'd eaten. And you'd better believe I got an earful from Bob when he found out. "This never would have happened to Olga!" was spoken innumerable times that night, and I wound up grounded for two weeks.

But it was worth it, because for that night, Arnold was proud of me.

Anyway, they banned us for a year after that, so by the next time I was here, the two of us were officially together. By then, I'd finally confessed about the whole Cecile thing, so we made a pact to spend every Valentines' Day here. The first time was particularly special since it came about a month and a half after we defeated Wheezin' Ed, and his mom and that scientist hobo developed the treatment that allowed us to look human again. It was about a month after that before we were able to fully control our changes; to celebrate, Arnold took me out to Chez Paris and had Dino Spumoni himself serenade me (apparently, the old fatso owed Arnold a lot of favors).

And so it was every year, up until last February. We went to other places too, of course, but this… this was our place. And now, here I was with someone else. And here he was with someone else. It felt, on some level, like a sacred trust had been violated.

But that's silly, right? This is just a place like any other. I should honestly be past all this obsessive ritualistic behavior by now. That was the whole point of all of this, wasn't it? Breaking my obsessive dependency on Arnold, so that when the time came, I could love him not because I had to, not because it was the only thing giving me meaning, but because it was my choice.

I can do this. I can handle us, being here, with other people. I never needed a buffer. I mean, it's not like Arnold tried to do the same thing, is it? He's confident. I should be too.

While the Shortman/Pataki/Bartlett/Ojoverde (the fake last name on Shai's passport) party was being led to their table, a newcomer was just arriving at the restaurant. He was a tall, well-built black man with glasses and a goatee and mustache. Upon closer inspection, one might detect that the glasses and mustache were both fakes purchased from Frank's Joke Shop on Birch and 5th, but one would have to have reason to make said closer inspection.

The newcomer waited for the maître'd to return, taking in the ambience and once again questioning himself just why he was doing this. After all, it wasn't like he didn't have a life of his own, right? There were places he could go and things he could be doing that weren't this place and this thing.

Once the maître'd returned, the newcomer asked, in his most "responsible adult" voice, "Pardon me, but would it be possible to get a table this evening?"

"Ah… non, monsieur. I am afraid zat we are all booked up for ze evening. If you wish, you may stay in case zere is a cancellation…"

"Uh… no, no thanks, I'll just go somewhere else," he said, turning to leave, and again wondering why he had even bothered to come here in the first place. Before he could exit, though, another newcomer, this time, a well-dressed woman who looked like she could have just come from a Hollywood premiere, burst in. She wore designer shades and a fancy hat perched atop her blonde hair. "Hello?" she asked, her voice sporting a broad Mid-Atlantic accent suggesting superior breeding. And yet, the first of the two newcomers was certain he had heard it before… many times, in fact.

"Yes, and you are…?" the maître'd asked with a supercilious air.

"Ruby Sterling," the woman replied. "I have a reservation for one for 6:30. Dreadfully sorry I'm a bit late. Unforeseen circumstances, don't you know."

"Sterling… ah, yes, here you are. Right this way…"

"Ruby" turned to face the man, who immediately recognized the spark of recognition in her eyes. "Oh, my!" she suddenly said. "Michael Fortesque, my old college chum. As I live and breathe! What are the chances!"

"Michael" wasn't about to throw away this stroke of good luck, so he decided to play along. "Ruby…? It's been ages! Just what have you been up to?"

"Oh you know, the jet-set life of a supermodel. It can be so exhausting. I rarely get the chance to just… unwind, you know. So, what brings you to town?"

"Well, my company sent me here to negotiate a very large contract. This is the first moment I've gotten to myself. I was going to get room service, but that really doesn't compare to a good night out. This restaurant was recommended to me by a colleague, but unfortunately, I didn't have the chance to get a reservation tonight. I was hoping maybe there would be a free table, but I'm out of luck."

"Oh, that will not do at all. Here's an idea… why don't you join me tonight? We can catch up on old times."

"That sounds like a wonderful idea, Ruby."

"Well, then, why don't we check our coats together," "Ruby" said, leading "Michael" to the coat check.

"Okay, Gerald," whispered "Ruby" once they were out of earshot, "what are you doing here and what's with the disguise?"

"Me? Have you looked in the mirror, Rhonda? Stupid question, I know."

Rhonda rolled her eyes. "What, can't a girl go to a nice restaurant and pretend to be someone else for a night?"

Gerald gave her a knowing glance. "Let me guess… Helga asked you to be the fifth wheel on her double date, didn't she."

Rhonda raised an eyebrow. "And how would you know that?"

"Because Arnold asked me to do the same thing. Naturally, I turned him down."

"Of course. As did I. With Helga, I mean."

Gerald said what they were both thinking. "So… why are we here then."

"Because we were worried and decided to spy on our friends in case something bad happens?"

"I really don't like the word 'spy.' It makes the whole thing sound underhanded."

"How about… 'covert chaperoning.'"

"Better. Man, how sad are we? Do we honestly not have anything else we could be doing?"

"*sigh* Nadine got this new game she's been going on about and I know better than to try to get between her and it."

"And Phoebe's in Kentucky. Which makes this even sadder because if she was here I'd actually have an excuse to be here. She'd want to spy on them as much as I do, and we'd have the cover of being on an actual date. Instead, here I am looking like Will Smith's understudy in MiB."

Rhonda chuckled. "What about me? I look like some sort of time-displaced Bette Davis."

Gerald shook his head. "This is nuts. They're grown-ass people… more or less. Thy don't need us babysittin' 'em."

"I know, I know… well, no sense letting this reservation go to waste. No reason the two of us can't have a nice night out."

"True, true… of course, I have no idea how I'm going to afford any of this…"

Rhonda groaned and rolled her eyes. "..so wait, you came here, to this expensive restaurant, with no way to pay for dinner? What exactly was your endgame here?""

"Well… I thought I'd just order the cheapest thing on the menu and see where it went from there. Then I got a look at the actual menu."

" …ohhhhh my god… fine, I'll cover you for tonight, but don't go too crazy."

-HELGA-

"Well, I don't know about you," Brainy said, studying the menu, "but I think we should start with the escargot. I just hope it doesn't take too long."

"You and your dad jokes," I remarked. "Trying to get an early start on fatherhood?"

"Is it working?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Have you met my dad? Reminding me of him is not the way to go."

Shaia, meanwhile, said "I… am not sure what to order at all. None of ths s familiar. What is this… cervelle de veau braisé aux œufs? Is that good?"

Memories welled up… unpleasant ones, of regurgitating my entrée into a waiting porcelain receptacle. Briefly, I allowed myself the shameful pleasure of transposing Shaia's likeness onto the memory, picturing her reaction to the taste, texture and ultimate expulsion of braised veal brains with eggs.

No, no, that's not who I want to be any more, that's the old Helga, the one who was driven by obsession and jealousy. Shaia is not the villain in my story, she doesn't mean me any harm, I have grown past that, I'm maturing, I'm I better person for it. "No, you don't want that, trust me."

"Oh, have you been here before?"

"You might say that."

"Well, then, perhaps you may be able to recommend me something?"

"I have a better idea," Arnold interjected. "Maybe you can order for the? It wouldn't be the first time…"

"Mmm, I think I can swing that. We can pay for it this time, right?"

"It's all right," Brainy said. "Dinner's on me tonight. I've been doing pretty well in the DJing biz."

"Oooh, we have a celebrity among us," I teased.

"Well, I wouldn't go that far, but my stuffs done okay on Soundify."

"As long as we don't have to wash dishes again," Arnold mentioned.

"Oh, man, I can actually feel my fingers pruning at the mere mention."

"This sounds like an interesting story," commented Shaia.

"Oh it is. Buckle up, because there are going to be plenty of those…" I flagged down our waiter. "Oh, garçon… I believe we are ready to order…"

"When I said don't go too crazy, I didn't mean 'order a cheese plate just so you could look at it'!" huffed Rhonda.

"But it's just so fascinating. Look at it… all smelly and runny…"

"Well, you better hold your nose, because you're eating it."

"Oh, no way. I'm not eating that."

"Then you'd better get ready to wash dishes, because if you're not eating it, I'm not paying for it."

"You wouldn't do that to me… would you?"

"You better believe I would, Johanssen. I'm not ordering anything else until that cheese is gone."

Gerald met her staredown. "You just want to see me do it because you know you would never touch the stuff."

"Oh, don't turn this back on me…"

"I dare you, Rhonda. If you're so sure this stuff's edible, you eat a piece."

"Challenge accepted." Not taking her eyes off Gerald, Rhonda grabbed a piece of camembert, popped it in her mouth, and swallowed it. "Not bad. A bit more pungent than I'm accustomed to. You're up," she stated with a smirk.

"Not one to back down from a challenge, Gerald found himself forced to take a piece (Roquefort as it happened, not that Gerald could tell his French cheeses apart). Grimacing, he downed the offending fromage.

"…actually, that wasn't that bad. Once you get past the smell."

Rhonda giggled. "Wow, you actually did it. I'm impressed. Okay, you're off the hook."

Gerald breathed a sigh of relief. "Good, 'cause that stuff is nasty. What was that grey stuff?"

"Oh, nothing much, just… mold," replied Rhonda with an impish grin.

Gerald gagged. "I ate mold? Like, stuff growing on a gas station bathroom wall mold?"

"Well, not exactly like that kind of mold, but… yes. It's closer to the stuff they make penicillin from."

"But.. mold." Gerald felt himself retch. "I… think I'm gonna be sick…"

"Ride it out, big guy. If sixty million French people can keep it down, so can you." To illustrate, she took a bite of the stuff herself. "Mmm. Good year."

"How can you eat that?"

"Years of practice. My mother spent several years in Paris, and it influenced her tastes, so growing up, we had a cheese course every Sunday dinner. I developed a taste for stinky, runny, moldy cheeses. Like you said… once you get used to the smell, it's pretty good."

"I was just posturing," he said. "Okay, I think I'm past the point where I'm gonna puke. Bt maybe we go light for the rest of dinner."

"Fine by me." She glanced over at the table across the room. "Huh, you know, for a second, I forgot why we were here."

"Oh, right," Gerald responded. "Actually, it kinda looks like everything's going okay over there."

"Cool. Maybe we don't have to waste our evening spying on them then. Maybe we can just… hang out."

"Hey, why don't we hang out more often, anyway? We were on the football team together."

"You know something? I have no idea. I mean, it's not like we don't get along or anything."

"You did put me on the geek list that one time."

"Hey, that was fourth grade. I was young, stupid, and pissed off that you beat me for class president."

"Well, you kinda had it coming. You made all those crazy promises that you knew you couldn't keep, and then I destroyed you in the debate."

"Hmmph. I could have beaten you if I'd had Arnold coaching me."

"All he really did was keep me honest. I was all ready to propose even crazier stuff, like banning homework and shit like that. No way I could've gotten away with it. Instead, he advised me to just be honest."

[A.N.: It's a shame we never got this episode! Gerald vs. Rhonda could've been fun.]

"Exactly! He was the conscience you needed. I could've used something like that. I mean, Nadine was there, but I was too arrogant to listen to her. But well, you know how it was… when Arnold talked, everyone paid attention."

"Yeah… *sigh*Ever feel like you're just a supporting character in someone else's story?"

"Me? No. Not ever."

"…uh, yeah, me neither."

-HELGA-

"And so, I swing for the window, but I miss completely, hit the wall, slide down, and land right on the couch. And that, dear Arnold, was how I wound up in your wall with a cassette tape in my mouth that afternoon."

It had been going like that all night long, Arnold sharing some crazy story from our past, and me trying to one-up him with something even crazier. I started with our disastrous dinner "date", he countered with the whole haunted train incident, I responded with that time we got lost in the woods with Bob on our camping trip, he recounted the Wheezin' Ed story (leaving out that Wheezin' Ed was real, running a secret criminal empire, and ultimately died fighting me and my friends), and so on, and so on. There was quite a bit of it. Sometimes I'm kind of in awe about how many wacky adventures we'd endured, even before someone injected fantasy and sci-fi into it.

Arnold smiled. "I can't believe I've never asked you that before. You know, the moment you walked out of the room, we just sort of resumed our conversation with this unspoken agreement that none of us would ever acknowledge it. And after that, I kind of put it out of my mind completely and it never occurred to me to bring it up with you."

"Well, at last, the mystery is solved. I'm just glad I never needed another filling because that is the last time I'm trusting laughing gas. I guess you could say there's nothing funny about it. *chuckle* That's a free one, Brainy, use it whenever you want."

"Oh, hey, someone remembered I'm here," Brainy said, a bit more passive-aggressively than I expected. Yeesh, who peed in his vichysoisse?

"Hey, you're free to join in on the conversation any time you want," I responded, a bit of his passive aggression seeping into my own mood. "I figured you weren't because you didn't want to. I mean, that's kind of your whole thing, right? Fading into the background and not talking?"

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I knew I had fucked up. "Y'know what… I think I'm gonna call it a night," he said, getting up. "I've got a headache. Don't worry, I'll settle the bill with the maître'd before I leave." It was pretty clear from his tone that he didn't have a headache; he just wanted to get out of there.

"Hey, wait," I said, chasing after him. It didn't feel like this evening could be salvaged, but I had to make an effort. "I'm sorry. I… I didn't mean to ignore you all evening. You didn't deserve that. It's just been so long since Arnold and I really talked, and I guess we just fell into old habits."

Brainy, who had been walking away all this time, suddenly stopped and turned to face me. If I had worse reflexes, I probably would have collided with him hilariously, but now was apparently not the time for comic relief.. "You're right, Helga. I didn't deserve that. And it hasn't just been tonight. I don't know if you've even noticed, but we've barely spoken since Arnold came back to Hillwood."

Wait, what? That couldn't be right.

Could it?

I reviewed the rough week and a half since Arnold had returned to Hillwood. A lot of it had been taken up with prep for the play, but I was fairly sure I had made time for Brainy, right? I'd called him right after arranging the double date with Arnold and Shaia… and then…

…well, I had definitely called him after… no….

…oh, wait I'm pretty sure I'd texted him on… wait, I don't think I did…

Well, we met for lunch on… no, I was busy that day…

…well, shit.

"Oh, my god, you're right. I'm sorry, I've just been so busy with the play," I protested, knowing full well it was no excuse. The play was over days ago and I still hadn't made time for him.

He chuckled ruefully. "Y'know, I kinda knew, deep down, this was how it was going to go. No matter how close the two of us got, I knew the second he got back it was going to be over."

"I swear to god, it wasn't on purpose-"

"I know. You couldn't help it. Remember, I've been there the whole time. I know that you can't give up Arnold, any more than you could give up breathing."

"So this is it, then. You're dumping me."

"It's more like… letting you go. You'll never be able to feel as deeply for me as I do for you, so it's pointless to hold you to it."

"…you're dumping me."

"…yeah." He took my hand. "But we'll always have Captain Zap-a-Tron's Lazer Tag Alley."

"…ah well. I guess that's it then. I'm doomed to forever be obsessed with Arnold."

He shook his head. "I think you've got it wrong. You're not obsessed with Arnold. He's been away for half a year, and it's not like you've just withered away without him. You've been exploring new creative outlets, you've been fighting crime… you even gave me a real chance, and maybe it didn't go where I wanted it to, but that's a lot more than I was expecting."

"So, if I'm not obsessed, then what am I?"

"Isn't it obvious? You're in love. And there's absolutely nothing wrong with that."

"Still… I'm really sorry. You really do deserve better than me."

"Well, I can't say I'm not disappointed… but honestly? Up until Arnold came back you were a pretty great girlfriend, all things considered. I just wasn't the right guy for you."

"Then why do I feel so bad about this? If we weren't right for each other, shouldn't this feel like a relief? All I can think about right now is how I hurt you."

"I'll be fine," he said. "I'll move on, and you'll eventually be back with the one you belong with, and everything'll be the way it should be."

"There's kind of one big royal thing standing in the way of that, isn't there?"

"If I know Arnold, he won't be able to resist his feelings for you for long. Of course, you could always try one of those patented schemes of yours to hep things along."

"You know those never work! Besides… I'm done wrecking any relationships except for my own."

"See? You have gotten better," He turned to go. "Well, I guess I'd better get going. The bus only comes about once an hour this late, and the next one's-"

I spun him for one last kiss. "For being the best rebound boyfriend ever."

"Well, now I'm starting to regret-"

"Too late! Go! Catch your bus." I ushered him away. "We're still cool, right? As friends? You're not gonna transfer schools again just to get away from me, are you?"

"Are you kidding? That's way too much paperwork," he said, exiting.

Well, that was it. I was single once again. The great Get Over Arnold experiment had failed.

And, really, should I feel bad about it? Well, yeah, I should, because I really did like-like Brainy. But… I was never going to love him. And maybe there really was nothing wrong with that.

"Well, it's official. I will never eat another dessert that hasn't been set on fire."

"Told you. The Crepes Suzette here is to die for." Rhonda flagged down the waiter for the check. "So, should we do this again sometime? With our better halves?"

"I dunno… do we have to wear the wigs and fake mustaches?"

"It's half the fun. Though Phoebe might look a bit weird with a mustache…"

"You know what I mean."

"*chuckle* So you don't think she could pull off cross-dressing?"

"I'm just scared that she'd expect me to. That one costume party was enough, man."

"I thought you made a pretty good Janet Jackson."

Gerald went red. "Never again. Never ever again."

Once the bill was paid, Rhonda asked "Need a lift home?"

"Oh I dunno, I've mooched off of you enough to- are you crazy? Hell yeah I want a ride in a limo!"

"Cool, I'll just dial Carson and-" she glanced over at Arnold's table, suddenly remembering why she was there in the first place. "Huh. Brainy's gone."

"Probably went to the bathroom."

"Yeah, you're probably right. It's really none of our business anyway."

"Guess not."

-ARNOLD-

It had been several minutes since Brainy and Helga had left the table. Shaia, as always, had about a million questions about everything, but it was hard to focus, since it was pretty obvious that something was going on between the two. I could help but feel the tiniest shameful bit of pleasure at seeing them at odds – I really, really don't like to think of myself as that kind of person, but I couldn't help but feel a little bit possessive over Helga, and seeing her with someone else did hurt. I wasn't proud of it, but it was there.

So when she came back, alone, that shameful little part of me was doing a shameful little dance. Something hip-hop, probably, a Cabbage Patch or a Pop-n'-Lock or something like that.

"Helga, you all right?" I asked.

"Hmm?" she said, looking distracted. "Yeah. Yeah, everything's fine. Brainy and I are gonna be taking a break for a while. Or maybe more than a while. It is what it is. Hey, who wants dessert? I could really go for a slice of the gateau de mousse chocolat… " Well, that answered that question.

"Hey," I said. "I'm really sorry it didn't work out."

"Thanks, Arnold. You know… I was dreading tonight because I thought it would be sooooo awkward between us. But that wasn't the problem at all. We were fine. A bit… too fine. We got all caught up with each other and we just ignored the people we should have been paying attention to."

"Um… wow, I guess we have been." I turned to Shaia. "I'm really sorry about that. It's just-"

"Oh, do not apologize, Arnold. I do not feel ignored at all," Shaia cut me off.

"You don't?"

"No. Actually I have really enjoyed listening to all your stories. It feels as though I am getting to know you both better. Besides… you two were together for years, and friends for a long time before that. It would be foolish of me to get in the way of the two of you catching up."

"Um… wow. Thanks." I was so used to jealousy from Helga that having Shaia be this understanding was weird. Not that Helga's jealousy really bothered me… that was just how she was. She was a very intense person with very intense emotions, and that was part of what drew me to her in the first place, for both the good and bad aspects of that. Maybe it wasn't that Helga was too jealous but that Shaia wasn't jealous enough.

But no, that was stupid. Shaia was just a trusting person, and really, there was nothing wrong with that. Judging her for not being Helga was unfair to her.

Ah, well, sure, Helga was having a bad night, but she would be okay in the long run… and for now, I didn't see any further complications during my visit…

[Hey Arnold Theme Ringtone]

Huh, who could this be? I wasn't really expecting anything.

"Hello?"

"Hey," a dull voice answered.

"Oh… hey, Arnie." What could this be about? Arnie never called me. I didn't think he even knew my number.

"I'm just calling to let you know that I'm coming to visit for Christmas. Also, to steal Helga away from you. *snort* But mostly. To steal Helga away from you." *chirp*

Helga raised an eyebrow. "So… what'd Bizarro #1 want."

Should I warn Helga? No, the last thing she needed now was something else to annoy her. "Oh, he's just coming for a visit."

"Thanks. Let me know when he gets here so I can be literally anywhere else."

"Who is Bizarro Number One?" asked Shaia.

"Oh, we're just talking about my cousin Arnie. He's, uh… well, you'll see when he gets here."

"Well, if he's anything like you, I'm sure we will get along perfectly fine."

Helga smirked. "Oh yeah. They're practically twins."

Inwardly, I groaned. Sure, technically Helga and I weren't together, but the last thing I wanted to happen to her was to see her deal with Arnie's unwelcome advances. Christmas… was going to be trying.

A.N.: Well, one relationship is over, but is another one just beginning? Will Helga and Arnie fall madly in love?

It could happen!

Rosali: Lo siento, no va a ser tan fácil. Especialmente con Arnie en camino.

Jose: Oh, we haven't heard the last of Mickey.

Veganmama: Well, it wasn't the Princess who wound up being the third wheel, but someone did.

Next: Weird Cousin III: The Revenge