The next day, business went on as usual at the Brandenham (well, about as usual without Bitsy there anyway). And as usual, Helen was struggling with her pregnancy. At least she was almost at the finish line... wherever it may be. The sooner she had the baby, the better; but not too soon. If she could hang on for a few more weeks, she'd be in the clear. For now, she'd just have to be patient. As long as there were no serious complications, everything would be okay.

In the meantime, she was waiting for Bitsy to come home from rehab. From what Bitsy had told her over the phone, everything seemed to be going well. Helen hoped this meant that Bitsy was taking this seriously, but she knew better than to expect anything more from her boss. After all, for all she knew, Bitsy could've been lying. She'd probably do anything to weasel her way out of another week in rehab. Until Bitsy came home, though, all Helen could do was wait.

To take her mind off things, Helen decided that another visit to the Met was in order. The last time she'd paid the museum a visit was ten weeks prior. It was hard to believe how much had changed during that time. As if Ambrose's death hadn't been hard enough on her, Bitsy's suicide attempt affected her much more. She'd felt overwhelmed by everything she'd been through at that point, and for a moment, she contemplated wanting to give up as well. It didn't last long, but for a moment, she wondered if it would be easier to let go and embrace the void. She broke out of it when she remembered that she had a baby who would be needing her soon, and she was motivated to keep living.

As she browsed through the exhibits, Helen was able to find some semblance of peace among them. There was something about them that brought her comfort as she browsed. It made her want to stay here and do this for a while. The longer she did, however, the more her thoughts would drift over to the Brandenham ancestors. She tried to imagine how Bitsy and Ambrose's mother must have felt when she was pregnant with them. How did she react when she felt them move for the first time? Did she feel any sort of joy about bringing new lives in the world that Helen was feeling right now? Had she forged any sort of connection with them before they were born? Helen wanted to believe that she did, that she found some solace in at least that after the horrific way they were conceived.

Soon, Helen found herself staring up at "Madonna and Child", the same painting she'd been looking at when she felt that first kick. She'd already decided that naming her child "Madonna" was out of the question, not least because that would just set her up for a lifetime of teasing and ridicule; a miserable experience that Helen just wasn't willing to inflict on her. Strangely enough, that painting was reminding her of Claudia this time around. Funny how, of all the Brandenham ancestors Helen was familiar with, Claudia was the only one who actually stuck out to her. She almost wished she could talk to her right now. Even if the opera singer was mainly remembered for inflicting emotional and physical abuse onto her children, there was just something about Claudia that fascinated the expectant mother. She just didn't know what it was. Before she could think any further on this, a small series of kicks broke her train of thought.

Helen exhaled softly and placed her hand over her stomach, feeling the little movements beneath her fingertips. "I know. I get it."

Before she could focus her attention right back on "Madonna and Child", Helen suddenly heard someone calling out her name. She turned around to see Paige standing right there, notepad in hand.

"Helen, what are you doing here?" Paige asked curiously. "I never took you for a museum lover."

"Well, that's because I don't usually come here," Helen replied. "I just figured I'd stop by and look at the exhibits when I got the chance."

"Ah, okay. So... I heard a rumor that Bitsy's currently in rehab in Massachusetts. You mind telling me if it's true or not?"

"I can neither confirm nor deny that."

"Can't say anything, huh?"

"Not a word. What Bitsy does behind closed doors is her business."

"I understand."

"Where's your family? I don't see them with you."

"Oh, well, Owen's busy training some new park rangers, Cole's hanging out with Enrique at his house, and Molly's out on a date with Brendan. Enough about me, though. What about you? How have you been lately?"

"Fine, just tired." Helen let out a sigh. "I've been aching everywhere for the last several weeks, and the baby just won't stop kicking. Also, I just started nesting."

"Oh man, been there, done that," Paige replied. "Still, I'm sure it'll all have been worth it in the end."

"Yeah, true."

The conversation petered out from there, and they just stood there staring at each other and contemplating how the rest of the day might go.

Finally, Paige broke the silence. "Well, I should probably get going. It was nice talking to you, Helen."

Helen nodded slowly. "Yeah, you too."

They then proceeded to part ways. Helen was starting to feel the urge to get home anyway. She couldn't stay here much longer. Her attention was needed in the here and now. Dakota was probably wondering where Helen was and what was taking her so long. She wanted to just head back to the Brandenham and make sure that she was alright.

Soon enough, while still deep in thought, Helen had made it home; and not a moment too soon. Despite having convinced herself otherwise, she was actually pretty tired. With a weary but contented sigh, she entered the hotel lobby.

"Hey, Helen!" the hotel clerk called out to her from behind the counter.

Helen turned her attention towards the hotel clerk. "Yeah, Chris? What is it?"

"How'd you like the Met?"

"Pretty good. Just what I needed."

"You get everything out of your system?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Good. I'm glad to hear that." Pause. "So... you got anything else planned for tonight?"

Helen shook her head. "No, not really. I think I'll just retreat and go to bed after that."

"Sounds like a good plan to me. Night, Helen."

"Night, Chris."

Dakota arrived in the master bedroom and set the laundry down right beside the bed. She took a few steps back and admired her handiwork. She felt proud of herself for getting it done so quickly. Now she could relax and have a peaceful night's sleep... or at least she could have done so if she hadn't suddenly noticed Helen lying right there on the bed, seemingly seconds away from drifting off.

"Hey, Helen!" Dakota called out to her.

That was enough to startle the sleeping woman awake.

"Dakota, what are you doing?" Helen asked.

"Just trying to do laundry," Dakota replied. "Can you get up for a second? I need to lay some clothes down here."

"Okay, but if I do that, you'll have to help me get up."

"Alright, fine." Dakota held out her hand. "Grab on."

Helen took her hand. Despite that she tried to hide it, Dakota wasn't all that great at hiding things, least of all from her. She grimaced just slightly and wobbled as she pulled her up off the bed.

Helen's face dropped a little. "Oh God, I saw that face. I bet you're thinking you'll need to get a dolly to lift me up."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, I am not! Besides, I didn't even feel anything. I'm strong like crazy."

"Uh-huh, I can see that."

"I'm serious." Dakota gave her a mischievous smirk. "I'm like a human Hercules."

By now, Helen had grown accustomed to Dakota's constant bragging and bravado. There was always an edge of seeking reassurance under all that bluster, something that Helen was certain Ambrose had found to be attractive in and of itself.

Helen cleared her throat. "Well, uh, thanks for lifting me up. I... really appreciate it."

"No problem, Helen," Dakota replied. "Also, I can't believe you'll be having your baby soon. Ain't that something?"

Helen gave an uneasy smile. "It sure is."

In turn, Dakota gave an awkward laugh. "Yeah, I guess you'll be needing all the support you can get. I'm here for you, if you need it."

"Thanks, Dakota."

"No problem. That's why I'm here."