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Helga G. Pataki had seen her share of disasters, but nothing compared to the chaos of her own home. Living above Big Bob’s Beeper Emporium wasn’t just embarrassing—it was suffocating. The constant hum of neon lights, the dust coating every surface, and the stink of failure that seemed to cling to the walls all painted the picture of a family on the brink.
“Helga! Where’s my coffee?!” Bob bellowed from the back office.
Helga rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath, “Why don’t you ask your favorite daughter, Olga?” She slammed the mug down on the counter. “Here, Dad, one extra-large helping of disappointment.”
Bob didn’t even notice the sarcasm. He was too busy staring at the latest stack of overdue bills.
“Can you believe these clowns?” he grumbled, shoving a paper in Helga’s face. “Trying to get me to upgrade to selling cell phones! Bah! Beepers are classics. These kids don’t know quality if it hits ‘em in the face!”
Helga bit her tongue. She had a lot to say about “quality” and “getting hit in the face,” but what was the point? Bob never listened. Instead, she grabbed her backpack and headed for the door.
“I’m going to Arnold’s!” she called out, not waiting for an answer.
Arnold. He was the one bright spot in her otherwise dismal life. Ever since their adventure in San Lorenzo, things had changed between them. He knew her secrets now—all of them—and somehow, he still cared.
When she got to his house, Arnold greeted her with that signature warm smile. “Hey, Helga. How’s it going?”
She flopped onto his couch, groaning dramatically. “Oh, you know, just another day in paradise. Bob’s still clinging to his precious beepers, Miriam’s asleep in the La-Z-Boy with a margarita in hand, and Olga’s...well, Olga.”
Arnold sat beside her, offering a supportive nod. “That sounds rough. Is there anything I can do?”
“Unless you’ve got a time machine to stop my dad from running our lives into the ground? Nope.”
Arnold placed a hand on hers. “You’ve been through a lot, Helga. But you’re strong. Stronger than anyone I know.”
For a moment, her tough exterior cracked, and she let herself lean into his words. “Thanks, Football Head. You’re not so bad yourself.”
The moment didn’t last long, though. Just as she was starting to feel the tiniest bit of peace, her phone buzzed.
“Great,” she muttered, checking the screen. It was Bob, of course. “Get home now,” the message read.
When Helga returned to the store, she walked into chaos. The display cases were smashed, merchandise scattered everywhere. And there, in the middle of it all, was a man who looked like he hadn’t showered in weeks.
“HEY! This ain’t a free-for-all!” Bob shouted, waving his fists in the air. The intruder didn’t even flinch. He grabbed the last box of beepers and staggered out the door, leaving the store looking like a warzone.
For a second, Helga thought Bob might finally explode. Instead, he just stood there, staring at the empty shelves in stunned silence.
“Well, that’s it,” he finally muttered. “I’m ruined.”
But for once, Helga saw an opportunity in the mess. “You’re not ruined, Dad. You’re just...finally out of excuses.”
Bob turned to her, confused.
“Face it,” she continued. “Beepers are dead. If you want to keep this family afloat, you’ve gotta move on. Start selling cell phones. People actually want those.”
Bob grumbled under his breath, but for once, he didn’t argue.
A few months later, things were different. Big Bob’s Beeper Emporium had been replaced by “Big Bob’s Mobile Magic.” It wasn’t glamorous, but it was successful. The bills were paid, Miriam seemed a little less miserable, and Olga had gone back to her fancy college.
Most importantly, they’d moved out of the store and back into their old house.
Helga stood in her room, taking it all in. It still smelled faintly of Olga’s perfume, but it was hers again. She flopped onto her bed with a satisfied sigh.
“Hey, Helga,” Arnold’s voice came from the window. He was perched on the fire escape, as he often was these days. “You okay?”
Helga smirked. “Better than okay, Football Head. For once, things might actually be looking up.”
Arnold smiled, and for the first time in a long time, Helga felt something she hadn’t felt in years: hope.