Work Text:
Thanksgiving was always a wild time for them. On the one hand, the Pataki household was never what you would call warm and loving, even when Olga visited (which was slowly becoming more of a rarity) there was always an air of fakeness in the smiles, and the declarations of what one would be thankful for were already hollow, but had become increasingly more so as time went on. It was normal for Helga, just grin and bear it for a while, then ditch. Arnold was a bit less used to it, but it wasn’t too much. In fact, a moment of quiet before the chaos that was the Shortman family thanksgiving was welcome, even if it was awkward as all hell. Conversely, the Shortman’s thanksgiving was far more warm, with friends exchanging hugs and smiles and actually wanting to be around each other, but it was also exhausting. The time at Sunset Arms was always full of loud, raucous laughter or arguments, and plenty of food. But after so many years, dealing with Grandma Gertie’s insistence on celebrating the 4th of July with burgers and fireworks had lost its novelty over time. There were only so many times Arnold could dress up as Ben Franklin before the wool coat started to itch before he’d even put it on. But still, the couple enjoyed their time together at the boarding house far more than whatever passed for thanksgiving dinner at the Pataki’s.
Still, when the weight of the holidays became too much, there was one place Helga and Arnold could always go. The streets seemed to shine with the near-freezing rain, reflecting the gold of the streetlights as the sun slowly began to set, streets slowly being replaced with wooden planks as they crossed into the city docks. Ever since that Thanksgiving so many years ago, Helga and Arnold came here together, usually just for an hour, after the holidays to talk. At this time of night, the streets had gone a bit quieter, although not silent, as the couple could still hear the faint sound of Gertie’s firework’s stash going off, and the sound of a car horn loudly blaring from the sound of it echoing in their ears. Arnold strode down the docks, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his coat, his head ducked low as the wind whipping in from the docks was even colder than normal, making him shiver. Walking right next to him, shoulders bumping every few steps, was Helga, wearing her favorite coat lined with fur (a gift from Rhonda), tossing a rock up and down in her palm before tossing it in the water like she did every time they came out here.
“Well.” Arnold began with a smile. “That was surely a Thanksgiving to remember.”
Helga scoffed, in her usual way. “Yeah, sure. Your grandpa tried to deepfry a turkey on the roof. We’re lucky your mom was such a trooper about it and fixed the lowering mechanism doohickey he invented before he set the entire boarding house on fire. I swear it’s like ever since your grandparents hit ninety-two they’ve been convinced they’re immortal.”
Arnold sighed, running a hand through his slightly soaked hair. “Tell me about it.”
“Oskar practically fell into the mashed potatoes, Mr. Hyuhn refused to help cook, your dad’s amaranth bread was practically a culinary crime against humanity, and Gertie and Phil insisted on the fireworks despite the fact that they’re pushing 100. Never thought I’d see a nonagenarian run as fast as when the box nearly tipped over RIGHT before they went off.” Helga counted off the day’s disasters on her fingers before throwing her hands up in the air.
Arnold laughed, throwing his head back, and catching when Helga’s eyes locked onto him, as if wanting to capture that moment in her memory forever. “I think Grandma’s got even more into the 4th of July spirit since last year.”
“I really regret showing her Hamilton.” Helga pouted, crossing her arms. “That’s one old lady who should have never been allowed access to the internet.” She took a deep sigh, looking at him in that way she did when Arnold knew she was hurting. “Still beats my house.”
The air between them became a bit heavier, the sound of the city filling the air between them. It wasn’t awkward, things rarely were with them after so long. Arnold sighed, rubbing the back of his head. “At least Bob seemed pretty calm this year.”
Helga scoffed. “Yeah, because Olga was there.” Arnold nodded in agreement as Helga shoved her hands in her pockets. “Once she gets a man, I guarantee she’ll stop coming altogether, and from there, Bob will spend the entire holiday sitting on the recliner yelling at the TV.”
Arnold froze, looking at her with a frown. “You really think she’ll stop coming completely?”
Helga shrugged, a little too fast to be considered casual. “She’s tired.” Arnold looked at her, and she just kept marching toward their usual spot. “She’s been performing for them for as long as she can remember. She was sick of it before I was ten. She loves them, but she’s been weaning herself off of needing them for years.”
Arnold let the subject drop from there, not that it mattered as their objective was in sight. The small dock they sat in every year, warped slightly with age, the beams covered in barnacles, making Arnold crack a smile as they walked towards it. He firmly planted himself on the edge of the dock, his legs dangling mere feet away from icy cold water.
Helga sat beside him, leaning on him casually as she kicked her legs languidly. “Great idea, Arnold. Let’s kick back, sit down on some soggy old wood that’ll probably break under our weight and possibly fall into freezing cold water. Great idea.”
“Oh c’mon, Helga.” Arnold answered, wrapping his arms around her waist and gently pulling her closer, which Helga didn’t fight. “This place is special to us. It’s the first place I can ever remember us just…existing. Y’know, without anyone else. Just you and me.”
“Criminy Arnold, don’t get all mushy on me.” She pouted, making him chuckle as her leg hooked around his. “Seriously, why did you want to come out here? It’s freezing cold.”
Arnold shrugged with a smile. “I dunno…” He knew he’d need a better answer than that, but for a moment, Helga was content with watching a ferry boat sail by them. “If we didn’t go now, it’d be too cold to go at all, and it’d be a shame to waste that tradition, right?”
Helga sighed, before smiling at him. She could see the wind whipping through his hair, and for a second she didn’t see her boyfriend of a decade, instead remembering the little football headed boy who yearned for something traditional and normal, before slowly growing to embrace the chaos that was his family. “Right.”
For a while, they didn’t speak, simply watching the waves in silence. Behind them, the city continued to move to its own rhythm, and the cold began to settle in, biting at their noses and fingertips, but neither made a move to get up and leave. Helga leaned back, resting her hands on the wet wood, and then immediately regretting it, shivering visibly. “You know, it’s a bit weird to think that we’re old now.”
Arnold made a sound halfway between a chuckle and a scoff. “We’re not old.”
“We pay taxes, Arnoldo. You made stuffing from scratch this year. Only old people do that.” Helga sneered.
“You helped.”
“Yeah, I did, that’s the entire point I’m making. I know it’s hard, but try to keep up for once, Football Head.” Helga sneered, gently wriggling to better position herself near his chest. “Still, it’s weird. Back when we were kids, twenty-somethings were ancient, and geezers like your grandparents were fossils, and we all figured they had all the answers. Instead, we spent half the night cleaning cranberry sauce off the ceiling fan.”
Arnold laughed again. “I mean, that was unavoidable.”
“Yeah right, and your grandma is a sane individual.” Helga barked out a laugh herself. They lapsed once more into companionable silence, and Arnold turned to look at her, a soft smile on his face that made Helga’s face flush when she noticed, because of course she noticed. “What are you looking at, football face?” She asked with a scowl.
“You.” He replied simply, leaning down and pecking her forehead, which made Helga smile wide and let loose a lovesick sigh, before she reached up and smacked herself.
“Creep.” She barked, but Arnold simply let out a loud guffaw and squeezed her closer. They talked from there, about college, about projects, about roommates and awful retail jobs. “You know,” Helga spoke up after a while, “It’s weird, this place still smells exactly the same.”
Arnold nodded. “Like saltwater and wood.”
“And probably tetanus from these rusty nails.” Helga snorted. “I kinda figured we’d stop coming here eventually. A lot of people just…stop doing stuff when they get older.”
“Yeah, a lot of people do.” Arnold answered. “But not us.” Slowly, he reached into his pocket, and Helga froze as he pulled out a small golden band that shined gently in the rising moonlight. “Should I get down on one knee?”
“Arnold, you’re sitting on the edge of a soaking wet dock with me right next to you. You’d probably fall in and lose the stupid ring if you moved, you’re such a klutz.”
Her boyfriend laughed and held the ring between his index finger and thumb, holding it out to her. “Do you still want to?”
Helga’s breath caught, and in the tiniest voice she could muster, said, “Yeah. I do.” Arnold gave her an ear-to-ear grin as he lifted her hand and slid the ring onto her finger. It wasn’t huge or extravagant like her fantasies, but it was soft, it was personal, it was Arnold. Her eyes burned as she suddenly surged up and kissed him, their lips gently pressing together, followed by their foreheads when the kiss ended. “God, I love you, Arnold.”
“I love you too, Helga.” He answered simply, leaning on her as they held hands, another precious memory added to their spot, simply spending a bit more time watching the waves roll by, accented by the city lights.