Author's Note: "I do hope to have the fourth chapter out much sooner than I did this one, especially since it's going to be a good amount shorter than this one." Hahahaha. Well, at least I am getting it out sooner, even if it's not that much shorter than chapter three.

Several things before we get to chapter four. First, I want to thank everyone who's left a review on the previous chapters. Please, if you feel you have something to say, go ahead and leave a review. I especially love to hear where you think the story might be going. Even if you have some criticism, I would love to hear it (unless you decide to be a jerk about it). In fact, as of this chapter, I plan on responding to reviews of the preceding chapter, unless there's nothing of substance for me to respond to:

The J.A.M. a.k.a. Numbuh i: Between coming up with the premise and starting to write, I did find those two fics, in the hope of avoiding unintentionally retreading something that has already been written. If we are talking about the same two fics, I'm pretty sure I succeeded.

HumanDictionary: Uh, glad you enjoyed it (I think)... Olga was trying to make her parents happy as Emily guessed in her review, but as you'll see, it's a little more complex than a vain attempt to save their marriage.

Emily: A very special thanks for the really in-depth review. While I did use the "Helga living in the boarding house" premise to mask the true core of the story, it will still play a big part in future chapters, especially a really embarrassing incident I have planned (mwahahahahaha). You're on point about Olga's behavior in the second flashback. You'll also see you might have been wrong about how much Helga is willing to trust Arnold in matters unrelating to her love for him. She may want someone she trusts that isn't part of this mess to confide in.

Previously: Due to Bob asking her to, Helga takes a look around the Pataki's attic. A photo album she finds reveals the truth to her: Olga is her mother, not her sister. Confronting Olga with the information, she yells at her mother until Olga is reduced to a sobbing mess. Afterwards, in Helga's new room at the boarding house, Miriam talks to her granddaughter in an attempt to get Helga to give Olga another chance. Helga is left wondering whehter she should do so, even if it would open her up to more pain and disappointment.

Previous Married... with Children Reference: Bob's girlie mags that Helga finds hidden in the attic is titled Big 'Uns. This fictional magazine was Al Bundy's favorite nudie magazine in the later half of the show's run, probably because they could show him reading it without having to pay royalties, unlike when issues of Playboy popped up in earlier seasons.


Chapter Four: Another Chance

Monday, August 18, 1997

One Week Before the Start of Fifth Grade

Six o'clock had come, and with it came the sound of a triangle, which was Gertrude Shortman's eccentric way of telling the various occupants of the boarding house that it was time to eat. Tonight, she had served up a scrumptious meal of fried chicken, mashed taters, and green beans.

As her family and the boarders gathered in the dining room, she counted six heads: her husband, grandson, Ernie Potts, Mr. Hyunh, Oskar Kokoshka, and herself. She had expected eight, so she asked her grandson what was going on. "Hey, Tex, where's the new ranch hand and her older sister?"

As Arnold and the others sat down, he answered, his voice betraying his unhappiness. "I don't know Grandma. They had a big argument earlier. Helga seemed really angry."

"That's too bad. Maybe you and the old prospector here can take a couple plates o' grub to them after dinner." She gestured to her husband as she said this.

"Okay, Grandma." After that they ate in awkward silence.

Eventually, Phil tried to break the silence. "Did anyone else see in the news about the murders of some tourists in some small Florida town called Dumpwater? Apparently it happens there every five years..." He trailed off when he noticed the look his wife was shooting him. "Sorry, Pookie. Poor choice of topic."

The silence lasted until Ernie spoke up. "So, Arnold, your little girlfriend seems kinda loud and angry. Hope we won't have to put up with that every day."

Mr. Hyunh added his two cents. "Yes, she seemed very rude."

Arnold's cheeks heated up at Ernie's choice of words. "She, uh, she isn't my girlfriend." Arnold was silent a moment until he realized he should probably address the rest of what was said. "A-and she hasn't been that angry in a while. I know she doesn't get along with Olga, but I didn't think she'd have a blowout with her so soon."

Suddenly, Oskar looked up from his meal, which he had mostly been stabbing at with his fork rather than actually eating. "I say you should toss the brat out. Her yelling will probably get the cops called. And you should kick out her older sister too. She doesn't deserve that room." Ernie and Mr. Hyunh shared a look at Oskar's declaration and started to whisper among themselves.

Meanwhile, Phil jumped to their defense like his grandson had just done. "What are you talking about Kokoshka? You and Suzie yelled at each other all the time! And just because you can't afford that room anymore doesn't mean no one else should be in it! Me and Gertie have bills to pay, you know."

"DON'T TALK ABOUT MY SUZIE! We loved each other! I'm sure she had a very good reason that she left, and she'll be back any day now!"

"She left because you're a lazy BUM! You'll always be a bum! And she ain't coming back!"

Phil and Oskar continued to argue for several minutes until Ernie cleared his throat, gaining the attention of everyone at the table.

Sneering at Oskar, Ernie spoke. "Phil, I think I speak for both Hyunh and myself when I say that Olga and her sister should be welcome as long as they are able to pay rent like the rest of us."

Mr. Hyunh once again added to what Ernie said. "Yes, we insist they stay."

Phil patted a seething Oskar on the back. "Well, I think that clears that up. They'll be staying until they're ready to leave... or until they can't pay... speaking of which, you still owe me rent for last month, Kokoshka. You could at least try to pay on time, considering I'm generously giving you a special discount so your lazy butt can stay in this building."

"Room four is a wreck! Fix it and I'll pay on time." That started another argument between the two that ended with Phil threatening to toss Kokoshka out on his rear.

They finished eating, and after Arnold's grandma prepared plates for Olga and Helga, Arnold and Phil picked them up and headed upstairs.

Heading up the stairs, his grandpa spoke. "Shortman, you should take that plate to Helga. You know her better than I do. I'll handle her sister."

As they reached the door marked six, Arnold stopped. Phil continued a few steps down the hall to door seven. As his grandpa knocked on that door, Arnold turned towards the one behind which was the girl that had been confusing him quite a bit recently.

He knew she was a better person than she had let on for years, and she had been showing it so often over the last few months. What could have made her yell like that. I know you dislike your sister, Helga, but what did she do to earn such anger?

Letting out the breath he didn't realize he had been holding, he raised his free hand up, and knocked on the door.


Olga was curled up in bed, tears still flowing down her face. She had grabbed one of the two picture frames that were on the nightstand and was looking at it. The photo was of an earlier, easier time, before she had to constantly lie to the most important person in her life. Her fifteen-year-old self was smiling as she held a squirming blonde-haired baby in a pink onesie, a pink bow that she still wore to this day in her then-short hair. Her mom was standing next to her, both of them grinning at the camera held by her father.

It was taken on her little girl's first birthday.

She laid there, staring at the photo and reminiscing. The first year after Helga had been born was wonderful, especially after her nightmarish pregnancy. After they found out she was expecting, Bob had been so worried about not only her future prospects but the Pataki family reputation, he arranged for her to be homeschooled for her whole eighth grade year. God forbid that people would know that his daughter had had a baby at only fourteen, and with some "French nerd" to boot. Until Helga had been born, she spent her time sequestered at home, under the guise of helping her mother with her non-existent pregnancy.

After eight hellish months of hiding at home, she had had her little angel. The following year-and-a-half had been some of the best of Olga's life, even dealing with the late-night crying and dirty diapers.

But the good times had come to an end when Helga had started to talk. Couldn't have the girl spouting out about how her mommy was in high school. So, the lying had started, and she took on the role of older sister instead of mother. Not that she had done a good job of that. She was too busy with extra-curricular activities and competitions. I should have focused on her more, and less on-

She heard a knock. It wasn't coming from the bedroom door, but rather the door leading out into the hallway. Putting the picture back on the nightstand and wiping the tears away, she went into the kitchen/living room. Almost running to the door, she had smile on her face, hoping it was her little girl, here to give her another chance.

Her smile deflated when she opened the door to reveal Mr. Shortman standing there, holding a plate of food. "Hello there Olga. I thought I'd check on you. Sounds like you and your sister had a little disagreement today." He noticed her briefly gaze towards the food. "Oh yeah, Pookie thought you might be hungry."

Olga replied in a voice that was barely above a whisper. "Yes. I am. Thank you."

Both walked over to the table and took seats. Phil set the plate in front of Olga, and despite what she had just said, she proceeded to pick at the food with her fork, somewhat like how Oskar had been doing earlier, just with less anger.

After Phil watched her (not) eat for a few minutes, he spoke up. "So, uh, we heard your sister get angry at you a while ago. Everything alright?"

Olga mumbled something.

Phil couldn't believe what he'd just heard. "I'm sorry Olga, these old ears can't quite hear like they used to. What'd ya say?"

Olga stopped playing with her food. "She, she's not my sister. She's my daughter."

Phil was flabbergasted. "What! Your daughter! But that would mean you would have to have been-"

Olga nodded. "I was very young. My parents decided to raise her as their own. She didn't know."

Phil frowned. "She found out didn't she?" Olga nodded. "She didn't take it well, did she?"

Olga put her head in her hands and started sobbing. "She said she hates me! And I deserve it! I was a horrible mother, and a horrible sister."

Phil got up and placed a comforting hand on Olga's shoulder. "Now, I'm sure that isn't true. You're a very sweet and kind young woman. I bet it was hard not being able to tell her the truth. And excuse me for saying it, but having met your father, I can't believe he made things any easier." He shuddered as he recalled his fender bender with Big Bob, among the other unfortunate times they had crossed paths.

"What, what should I do? Have I ruined the chance for her to be in my life?"

Phil mulled her question over for a moment. He had only recently reconciled with both his sister Mitzi and best friend Jimmy Kafka after being estranged from them for almost seventy years. He wasn't exactly the best at rebuilding burned bridges. I'm so bad at this I should probably just tell her the opposite of what I would have done when I was young.

"Don't hold a grudge against her for yelli-"

"I, I don't."

"Good. Let her know that even if she is angry at you, you are here for her, and she can come to you anytime."

Olga had stopped sobbing but was still visibly upset. "What if she doesn't? What if I never have a good relationship with her?"

"I'm sure you will." Phil said with a smile and certainty in his voice. "Arnold's talking with your little girl right now, and if anyone can work a miracle, it's him. I haven't seen him fail yet." Besides saving the Kokoshkas' marriage. There was no helping that dumpster fire. He wisely kept that last part to himself.

Olga smiled. She had interacted with Arnold quite a bit while she was a student teacher. She had seen him work his magic. If anyone could get through to her daughter, it would be him, especially with how Helga must feel about the football-headed boy. Olga hadn't read any of Helga's poetry, like Miriam had guessed, but she had caught the looks her little girl had been shooting at her classmate when she thought no one was looking. She had seen the same look on herself in photos of her with Cecil.

Seeing the look on Olga's face, Phil chuckled. "There's the Olga whose been staying here the last few weeks! Now eat up. I won't hear the end of it if I bring Pookie back a full plate."

And with the hope in her chest that maybe, just maybe everything would be all right, Olga started eating dinner.


Helga was staring at the ceiling, the photo album sitting next to her. She didn't know how long she had been lying there, but she just didn't feel like doing anything. When the dinner bell rang, she could have gotten food to fill her empty stomach, or she could have started to unpack the various boxes scattered around the room. Instead, she did nothing.

Then, after a while, she could hear muffled voices from out in the hall, and then after a moment there was a knock at the door. Still lying in bed, Helga called out. "Go away."

"Helga it's me." The voice of Arnold – her love, her muse, her light in the darkness – came from just behind the bedroom's door. "I just want to talk with you."

If this was just something normal that was bugging her, like when Bob did something stupid, she would have opened the door. These past few months he had become one of her most trusted confidants alongside Phoebe, Miriam, and Dr. Bliss. But with this, she was unsure. Do I let him in on this? I know he wouldn't use the truth about Olga against me.

Her uncertainty was set aside when Arnold spoke again. "I also have a plate of food in case your hungry." As her growling stomach made the decision for her, she sighed, got up, and went to the door.

Opening it, she saw her beloved standing there. As Arnold looked at her, he noticed the redness in her eyes. Has she been crying? He had never seen Helga cry. Even with all the stuff that had happened as a result of Bob partnering with Scheck, he had only seen her annoyed and angry about it, never upset to the point of crying.

He snapped out of his thoughts when she spoke. "Well, are you coming in, Football Head, or are you just going to look at me?" She sounded tired.

As he walked in, he glanced around the room. There wasn't really anyplace Helga could sit and eat. "Uhhh..."

"Give it here." She had taken a seat on the bed and was reaching out for the plate. He handed it to her. "Thanks." She proceeded to dig in. Even as she took large bites, she was careful not to spill any on herself or the bed sheets. He took a seat next to her as she ate.

After eating a good amount, she carefully set the plate behind her on the bed, then looked over to her beloved. "You wanted to talk, didn't you?"

"You were really upset earlier. I know you don't get along with your sister, but you've never gotten this angry. Didn't you say you were getting along with her better?" She looked at him and saw the concerned look in his eyes and the frown on his face. She saw the same football-headed angel she had seen that rainy morning on her first day of preschool. He may make mistakes here and there, but he would never intentionally hurt someone (besides maybe jerks like Wolfgang or criminals like Scheck.) She could trust him.

She reached over to the photo album lying near the plate. "Bob wanted me to look through the attic before Miriam and I came back here. I found this." She started to hand it over to him but retracted it before it reached his hands. "Promise me you won't share what you learn from this with anyone unless I say it's alright."

"I promise."

"You swear? I don't want to bring Old Betsy and the Five Avengers out of retirement, but I will if I have to."

He held up one hand and put the other over his heart. "I promise I won't share it with anyone, Helga."

She relinquished the photo album. He opened it up and started looking through it. Well, it can't have anything to do with these pictures of Olga with this boy. She must have dated him before Helga was born. Flipping ahead, he came to the sets of poems. He couldn't read them, although he could pick out words here and there from when he had a French pen pal in the third grade. He even has a similar name to her. Cecil and Cecile. Strange coincidence.

Then he got to the same black and grey photo that had temporarily perplexed Helga just hours ago, although to her it seemed like it had been days since then. "What is this?" He looked up at Helga, confused. She wasn't looking at him at first, just gazing down at where the wall met the floor, but when she caught his questioning gaze in her eye's peripheral, she took a quick glance to see if he was done before her gaze returned to the wooden floor. Even though she knew better, part of her was still worried he'd think less of her once he knew she was the result of a teenager's dumb mistake.

Since he wasn't done, she simply said, "Keep going."

He flipped the pages and watched as the little figure grew into a full-term baby. Is... is this Helga? Is this what a baby looks like before it's born? As he reached the last page, his confusion reached its apex. The photo and birth certificate told a story he couldn't understand.

"Olga's... Olga's your mother?! But how!? She's only like... what... Thirteen or fourteen years older than you?"

Helga looked at him. What exactly was he asking? "What do you mean 'how'?"

"How could she have had a baby? She's so young here! I thought only adults had babies once they were married."

She gawped at him. Is he serious?! "What are you talking about, Football Head?!"

"Why would she decide to have a baby at such a young age?"

He might as well have grown two heads for how Helga stared at him. "Arnold, she didn't decide to get-" A realization struck her. "Have you not had the talk yet!?"

Arnold just looked back at her, dumbfounded. "What talk?"

She wasn't really given the talk either, but Bob and Miriam hadn't exactly been attentive when it came to what she watched on TV or read in books and magazines. She exhaled. She was not explaining sex and pregnancy to him. For one thing, it wasn't her place to do so. For another, telling the boy you'd been in love with for years about that would probably win the gold medal in the awkward conversations category.

She just shook her head, and despite everything, she had a small grin. Leave it to Arnold's ignorant innocence to lift a weight off her shoulders. She wouldn't have to worry about him judging her for being born to a teen mom.

"Never mind, Arnold. The point is, she didn't mean to have me." The grin disappeared. "She made a dumb mistake and then she dumped me on Bob and Miriam, who proceeded to ignore me and get drunk for the next ten years, respectively."

"And you blame Olga?"

"I guess I can't for that... she couldn't have raised me on her own at that point. Bob and Miriam even forced her to pretend to be my older sister." She frowned. "But you know how she was as a 'sister'. She was lousy, plain and simple. Always more concerned about pleasing Bob and Miriam than trying to spend time with me. Plus, she lied to me! Even if I couldn't let anyone know I knew, she could have told me I had a mom who actually cared about me more than a stupid alcoholic fruit drink." Helga laid back on her bed (avoiding the plate of food) and stared up at the ceiling.

"Helga, don't you think you should give her a shot at being your mom? You mentioned that she did try to spend more time with you while she was a student teacher last semester."

"I know I should give her another chance. Miriam told me how much Olga cares about me. And I've forgiven Miriam for all the crap she's pulled over the years..."

"You're afraid, aren't you?" Arnold stated.

Helga continued staring at the ceiling. Half a year ago, if anyone said something about her being afraid she would have angrily denied it, no matter how true it was. But now, she just admitted the truth. "Yeah... it's just... I finally have a good relationship with Miriam; even with work and putting up with Bob's crap, she was finally spending time with me and listening to me. It took so long to get that bond, and I was so afraid at first she'd slip back into being the smoothie-slurper she had been. Now I have to forge a new one with someone I barely get along with."

Arnold wasn't sure how to answer at first. He had been raised by his grandparents too, but he had known they weren't his parents, and despite having their eccentricities (especially his grandmother), he had had a good relationship with them all his life. He would give anything to have his parents back, though. "At least you have the chance to know your mom." He mumbled.

Helga sat up and looked at him. "You're right. I do."

"Huh?"

"I can get to know my mom. I should give her that chance." Arnold scratched the back of his head. He wasn't aware he had mumbled that out loud, let alone loud enough for her to hear.

An awkward silence fell on them. Eventually, Arnold spoke up. "Do you know where your father is? This Cecil guy?"

"I don't know... probably back in France eating scrambled eggs and cow brains." She stuck her tongue out in disgust. "Bob wouldn't let Olga stay in touch with him, so he doesn't know I exist, and I'll probably never get to meet him..." She frowned.

"That's horrible." Even as Arnold spoke, something Helga had said tugged at a memory in his brain. Scrambled eggs and cow brains? Why does that sound familiar? "So, are you going to talk with Olga?"

"I'm going give her a chance... in a little bit. Let me finish eating first." Helga then reached behind herself, grabbed the plate, and resumed her meal.

As she ate Arnold looked around the room. Seeing all the unopened boxes, he got up. "Would you like me to help you unpack?"

Helga nodded. However, her eyes widened as he started towards a box marked with a big "A" – the box in which she had put all her books of poetry and her locket. "Leave that one alone!" At her outburst, Arnold looked at her with a wide-eyed, questioning gaze. Quick, Helga old girl, come up with a good excuse. "Uh, that one has all my underwear in it." Arnold jumped back from the box like it had shocked him. Smooth, Helga. Real smooth.

"How about unpacking some of the ones over there." She pointed to a couple of boxes she knew had neither secrets nor undergarments. He went over and started opening them up.

She finished eating as he took various clothes out of the boxes and set them into stacks for Helga to put in the dresser and wardrobe later. One shirt caught his attention: pink with red horizontal stripes. For some reason, it also gave him a sense of déjà vu like the comment about eggs and brains. Dismissing the feeling, he noticed that Helga was done eating and was now standing, empty plate in hand.

"Uh, thanks Arnold. For the food... and the talk. And for helping me with some of these boxes." She handed him the plate. "I'll do some more unpacking... and then go and talk with Olga..."

As Arnold took the plate and went to the door, he turned towards Helga. "Just remember, Olga's probably nervous too. Bye, Helga." And he went through the door.

Helga got up and headed for the box with her locket. Opening the box, she retrieved the golden heart. As she looked at Arnold's picture behind the glass, she had a dreamy smile on her face. Even if I must talk to Olga alone, you will be with me in spirit, my football-headed ang-

The door suddenly opened, and Helga quickly hid the locket behind her back. Arnold stuck his head into her room. "Oh, by the way. The bathroom is the door marked 'W.C.' Just thought you might want to know."

Hiding her shock from the fact that he had nearly caught her with her locket (which he would no doubt have recognized due to one of her prior escapades in the boarding house), Helga put on a scowl, which she was using less and less frequently these days. "What are you doing Football Head!? What if I was changing into my pajamas or something!? Get out!"

His cheeks reddened. "Uh, sorry Helga." And with that the door was shut again. Helga started unpacking her books of poetry, as she got ready for what was to come.


As Helga stood outside door seven, she wondered if she should knock or just go in. She could hear muffled voices inside. She tried the doorknob, and finding it unlocked she went in.

Olga and Phil were sitting there, both facing away from the door. She was listening to the old man as he told some story. "...And since we had nothing to eat all day except beans, the tents stank to high heaven. It was awful, but we kept holding out because we thought the kids were enjoying it. Turns out they hated it just as much as we did, but they were afraid of disappointing us." Olga let a little giggle. "Luckily there was this nice campground nearby, so things ended on a good note. They even got to listen to some singer. Davy something or other..."

"Davy Jones? From The Monkees?" Olga guessed.

"Thats the one. Couldn't say I personally cared for his music, but it wasn't bad like some of that crud they play nowadays, like that-"

Phil's complaining about the artistic merits (or lack thereof) of modern music would have to wait for another day, as Helga decided to make her presence known with a loud "Um..."

Both adults turned around, Olga showing a mix of surprise, fear, and even hope. "Helga!?"

Phil didn't look surprised in the slightest. "I'll be getting out of your hair now." He got up, and picking up the now-empty plate that was lying in front of Olga, started to head for the door. "Excuse me little lady." Helga stepped in and to the side, allowing Phil to exit. "See you two in the morning." And with that, he closed the door with his free hand.

Mother and daughter stood there looking at each other. After a minute, Helga walked to the table and took a seat. Olga started to say something, but Helga held up a finger, silencing her mom. The girl then started to talk herself. "First, I need to apologize. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. I... I don't hate you. Second, I want... I want to give you- us another chance. Being sisters obviously didn't work, but... but maybe you could be my mom."

Olga was so happy and relieved to hear this from Helga, she got up and started to move towards her daughter, intending to pull her into a hug, when Helga spoke again, stopping her in her tracks. "But you need to tell me why. Why were you so concerned with being 'little miss overachiever'? You told me just about a year and a half ago that you hated being that person, yet you continued to show off for Bob and Miriam. All I ever heard from Bob when I was growing up was how I should be more like you. " Helga was staring down at the table.

Olga sighed and took her seat again. "You know, you're not the only one going to see a psychologist." Helga looked up at her, surprised. "When I was little, your grandma and grandpa used to argue. A lot. I know you've heard Bob and Miriam argue, but it used to be much, much worse. Their arguments could last for hours. I even remember the cops coming by once or twice due to noise complaints." She looked out the window as she spoke, thinking back to those painful days. "I would always try to distract myself by watching TV or playing with my toys, but one day the usual distractions just weren't working..."


1978

Five-year-old Olga Pataki was sitting in the family room, watching Sesame Street. Big Bird was visiting Mr. Hooper and was getting his usual birdseed milkshake. She always enjoyed it when the big puppet visited the old curmudgeon. He reminded her of Mommy's daddy, her Peepaw.

Suddenly, she heard her Daddy's loud voice from upstairs. "What are these papers, Miriam?!"

Her Mommy's voice joined her father's "I'm signing up to go back to college, B."

"You don't need to go back to college!"

"I want to finish college and get a job, Bob! It gets boring being around here all day!"

Olga scooted closer to the television.

"If you're busy, who's going to do all the chores around here! I don't have time to do stuff like clean the house or go shopping!"

"We can split the chores, Bob!"

"I've got too much to worry about to do some dumb chores, woman! I just got a promotion at work and I'm busier than ever! Plus, what about the girl, she needs her mother here at home!"

"She's at kindergarten for six hours a day, Bob! And we can pay to send her to an afterschool program for a few hours!"

"I'm trying to save money to start my own business, Miriam! I don't need to waste money on some dumb after school program or for you to go back to college!"

Olga covered her ears with her hands.

"YOU'RE A DAMN CHEAPSKATE, BOB! What about all that money you spent on your new Lincoln Continental!?"

"DON'T YOU TALK TO ME LIKE THAT, WOMAN! I'M TRYING TO SECURE US A FUTURE HERE!"

"THAT'S A FUTURE FOR YOU BOB! WHAT ABOUT ME!? I HATE BEING STUCK IN THIS HOUSE MOST OF THE DAY!"

Olga couldn't take it anymore. Abandoning the television, she ran into the living room, looking for anything to distract her from her yelling parents. Seeing the piano, she went over to it and sat down on the bench.

She remembered her Mommy playing it. She didn't play often, but it was fun to listen to on the rare occasions she sat down and performed. Olga started to push the various keys, listening to the various notes that came out. The yells of her parents, while still present, seemed to fade into the background. Eventually, she tried to play something simple.

She started plinking out the notes to "Mary Had a Little Lamb." She hit a wrong note here and there at first, but as she played it again and again it became easier to play the right notes. After getting it perfect, she remembered a song her mother would often play. She called it "The Entertainer." Being a much, much more complex piece, it took her a while, but she slowly started to figure out the tune from memory.

So involved was she in her task that she didn't even notice her parents had stopped yelling at each other. It wasn't until she finished that she realized that the only sound was the sound of the television in the other room. Turning around, she saw both her mom and dad staring at her, wide-eyed.

Miriam spoke as her little girl got up. "H-how did you play that Olga? It took me a lot of practice to be able to play songs like that." While she played it a lot slower than it was meant to be performed, she had played almost the whole song from memory, missing relatively few notes here and there.

Olga was nervous, worried her mom might be upset. "I, I remembered when you played it. I tried to make it sound like that."

Bob stepped forward and pulled his little girl into a tight hug. "You hear that Miriam? She played it from memory! We got a friggin' genius on our hands! A modern-day Liberace!"

Miriam spoke again. "We're proud of you sweetie. We'd get you lessons if someone wasn't such a tightwad." She shot her husband an angry look.

Bob ignored the venom behind Miriam's statement. "Of course, we'll get you lessons! This could really help your future, not to mention shine a light on the Pataki name."

Olga was so happy, for on this day she had learned how to turn angry yells into warm hugs...


August 1997

"...I guess at that age I thought I could make things better by doing things like playing the piano or winning a competition. When I got older I realized that it wouldn't really improve things, but I was worried that stopping would make things worse. I couldn't fix their marriage, but I thought I could accidentally break it by not continuing on the path I was on.

"The last time I had 'disrupted' this path was when I got pregnant with you. I wouldn't change that for the world, but it... it did make things worse with my parents... that's when Mom started to drink... anyway, after you were born, I just kept performing and competing, even as I grew to hate the piano, and spelling bees, and all the other stuff I did. When I heard you were seeing Dr. Bliss, I realized I needed to talk with someone too. I should have done so sooner. I should have realized how much I was hurting you. I'm so, so sorry Helga."

Helga had sat there, listening to her mother relate all this. She had put up with Bob's shouting all her life. While Miriam was once again shouting back, it was easy to take her side. Since Bob had proven himself time and time again to be an idiot, it didn't bother her all that much when Miriam put him in his place. What Olga had just told her about, though, sounded awful. Look what their neglect did to me... turned me into a bully who was afraid to express any weakness to those around me. It's probably a miracle Olga didn't end up in a mental hospital.

Helga looked into Olga's eyes. "I forgive you." She quickly found herself wrapped in a hug. They just stayed like that for a minute, as Olga hummed some song, probably a long-forgotten lullaby. After Olga let her go, they both stood there.

"I'm sure you want to hear about your father now. Where should I start?" Olga asked, more to herself than to her little girl.

Helga suddenly realized just how tired she was. "I... I really do, Olga, but could it wait until tomorrow? It's been a long day..."

"Sure, honey. Would it be alright if we just sat and watched a movie with each other instead?"

Helga thought for a moment. That actually sounded kind of nice... but she had to make one thing clear. "Okay. But I don't want 90 minutes of cutesy crud. I want a real movie."

"Okay. Go sit on the couch, I think I have an idea of what we can watch." Helga did so, as Olga went into the bedroom to grab a VHS tape from her collection. Helga watched her go, and even from her spot on the couch she could see that there were quite a few bookcases in the bedroom. Olga came back and presented the movie she wanted to watch. Helga looked at it and frowned. It had a white unicorn and a wizard standing in a green field, with an old man reaching ominously towards them from a castle. "What about this, Helga?"

Helga furrowed her eyebrow as she looked down at the movie. "The Last Unicorn? Really, Olga? A cartoon movie about a unicorn? This is exactly the type of crap I didn't want to watch."

"Helga, I promise it actually gets rather dark and has a lot of depth to it." Olga pleaded.

Too tired to argue with her mother, Helga simply said "Fine."

Putting the tape in, Olga went and switched off the lights as the previews began. Taking a seat next to her baby girl, they watched the movie begin.

Ten minutes in, Helga had to admit it wasn't half bad.

Half an hour in, she was really enjoying it.

Forty-five minutes in, despite her enjoyment, her eyelids were starting to droop.

An hour in, she was leaning against her mother.

By the time the credits rolled, she was fast asleep.


For anyone worrying that I had Helga forgive Olga too quickly, don't worry. They aren't going to be best friends right out of the gate, and there will be things in the future that throw a wrench into their relationship.

Also, The Last Unicorn is not owned by me. The same goes for any other work of fiction that I reference throughout this story, as this is the first story I've written that I've kicked out into this big, scary world. Just thought I should mention it.

Thanks for reading!