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Arnold knew something was wrong the second he woke up. Usually, Helga would be next to him, either softly snoring away or on her phone, waiting for him to wake up before gently rolling out of bed. Seeing his wife’s gentle smile when he opened his eyes was always the highlight of his day, ever since she’d first moved in with him when they were barely 18. But now, there wasn’t a single sound in their bedroom. He slowly rolled out of bed, staying in the oversized t-shirt he used as pajamas, he checked the usual areas first. The bathroom wasn’t occupied, the roof and his old room were empty. He slowly descended the stairs, noting the gentle sound of rain pattering against the windows, when he finally entered the kitchen.
His beloved wife was sitting at the kitchen table, one hand curled around a mug of coffee that had long since gone cold, and the other curled protectively around her very rounded stomach. She was wearing one of his old overshirts, one of the few things that still fit her at the moment, and a pair of his boxers. Her hair was a mess, completely unbrushed, and even her bow, that quintessential part of her that she treasured more than anything, was missing. She met his eyes, and then kept looking into her mug as if the brown liquid held the secrets of the universe. Arnold had only seen his wife like this a handful of times in the two decades he’d known her. Slowly, he approached, sitting next to her and gently taking her hand.
“Helga? Are you okay?” He asked quietly, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. Helga didn’t respond at first, still staring into her coffee, but slowly she began to speak.
“It’s funny…I grew up thinking I’d never be able to have this.” She began. At Arnold’s questioning look, she waved her hand around to indicate the boarding house, the kitchen, and him. “This. This…sappy little domestic bliss thing. I dreamed about it, oh how I dreamed about it, I wanted it like most people want oxygen. But I never thought I’d ever have it.”
Arnold’s face went thoughtful as he scooted closer. “Helga, where exactly is this coming from?”
Helga finally barked out a dry laugh and fixed him with a look. “Seriously football head, do you ever think about exactly how fucking insane this entire thing is?”
“What, you mean getting married?”
“You marrying me specifically, yes, you nimrod!” She snapped back, baring her teeth in a deep scowl, stopping Arnold in his tracks for a moment…but only a moment.
Slowly, Arnold hummed in thought and scooted closer, his eyes soft. “You’ve been thinking for a while. How about you start from the beginning?”
Helga sighed deeply, rubbing her hand over her face. “I know you’re familiar with karma, hair boy, so I’ll try and keep this simple for you. I don’t deserve all of this. I don’t deserve to wake up every day and see your stupidly handsome face. I don’t deserve to wear this ring, and I certainly don’t deserve to carry something as precious and wonderful as your children.”
Arnold blinked in shock. He could see the moisture gathering in her eyes and moved gently to force her to look him in the eye. “Helga, what do you–?”
The dam broke the instant their eyes met, and Helga began to cry. “I’m a terrible person, Arnoldo! I’ve always been an awful, horrible little gremlin who’s treated everyone around her like garbage ever since I was little! I’m a mean, cruel, selfish woman who has never thought about anyone but myself from the moment I could walk! You should know this better than anyone!” Arnold opened his mouth to retort but Helga snapped back, steamrolling right over him. “No, don’t do that thing where you try and excuse my bullshit. I treated you the worst of all. I stalked you, I stole from you, I insulted you and everyone else. I was pissed at the world and I made it everyone else’s problem.” Arnold watched her quietly as she took one more deep, shuddering breath. “And somehow, impossibly, you looked at the total mess that was Helga G. Pataki and went ‘yeah, I gotta get attached to this crazy bitch.’ You really are completely fucking bonkers for doing so, football head.” Despite himself, Arnold snorted in amusement, a playful smile on his face. Helga glared at him like he’d just called her a bitch to her face. “Don’t laugh! You were already insane for kissing me in San Lorenzo, but dating me afterward? Absolutely unhinged. Giving me a ring? Disastrously crazy. Doing me without a condom? Criminy, Arnold, have your brains leaked out of your ears? You’re trusting me with kids.” Her anger slowly cooled, and years of spending every waking moment with her let him see the fear simmering beneath. “Your kids. You’re trusting me with your kids.”
Arnold leaned in, gently placing a hand over hers on her stomach. Her eyes shot up to meet his. “Our kids, Helga. They’re ours.” Her face turned red and she looked away. Arnold however, only leaned further in. “Helga, do you seriously think so little of yourself?”
Helga prevented herself from looking at him, her face wobbling, trying not to just swoon and accept his love right there. “It’s the truth, Arnold. I’m nuts, crazy, wacko, destined for the looney bin.”
Arnold rolled his eyes. “No, it’s not Helga. You know that, I think.”
“Don’t even start, football head. Don’t try to cover up my crimes.” She snarled. “You always do this, making excuses and making me out to be better than I am.”
“Or maybe,” Arnold replied, gently rubbing his hand in circles around hers. “Maybe you’re just thinking I’m excusing when really I’m just…understanding you.” Helga pouted, frowning, but Arnold just kept going. “Yeah, you hurt others. You were a bully, but it’s not like you were Ludwig or Wolfgang. You played a lot of pranks, but you never went too far with it. Your shrines and your poetry are adorable, not creepy. But you were angry at the world and lonely, so you protected yourself by hitting first.”
Helga bristled. “I was not–”
“Your words on our honeymoon say otherwise, my love.” Arnold retorted smoothly, and Helga went red and turned her head away. “But a bully was never all you were. You were also a kind, sweet person who was always willing to help when it mattered, and you’ve shown me that time and again all throughout the time we’ve been together.”
Helga stiffened, glaring at her husband. “That is unequivocally untrue, you–!”
“When Harold was about to flunk senior year, you helped him study for a month.” Arnold retorted.
“He just looked so pathetic, and Mr. Green wouldn’t let him apprentice at the butcher shop full-time unless he graduated!” Helga threw up her hands. “He just looked so damn pathetic, it’s not like I actually cared about him.”
“Is that why you cried when he and Patty named you the godmother of little Patrick?” Arnold smirked. Before Helga could dispute him, he continued. “When Phoebe got the flu in college, you stayed with her for a week, homemaking her my mom’s chicken stew and doing her homework for her.”
His beloved wife looked away. “That’s different, it was midterms, and Phoebe was losing it over not being able to do it herself. Besides, she’s my best friend. She deserves to be pampered for putting up with my bullshit.”
“When Stinky’s uncle had a heart attack, you stayed with him. You don’t even like Stinky that much.” Helga didn’t have a retort to that, just looking down at her stomach. Arnold leaned in. “When your parents disowned Olga after she dropped out of college, you helped her get back on her feet. You let her live in the boarding house for a year despite the fact that you still found her irritating as all hell and you wanted to keep me here all to yourself. When Grandma had her stroke, you held her hand the entire time.”
“She…I…” Helga almost whimpered, her voice soft.
“There’s proof everywhere that you’re not just an inconsiderate monster. I’ve known for years that you aren’t as cold and uncaring as you say you are.” He smiles, moving to run her hand through her blonde locks.
“You make it sound noble. Like I’m…actually a good person.” Helga muttered.
“Funny how that works when I show you the good things you’ve done.” Arnold replied. “You’re a real, genuine, kind person.”
“I’m an asshole.” Helga bitterly replies.
“You’re abrasive, but kind.” Arnold shrugged. “I’ll never say you’re an angel, Helga. But you’re not a monster. You’re a person, with your good and bad points. That’s not weakness, that’s human.”
Helga shook her head. “You don’t get it. People like me…don’t deserve to be happy.”
Arnold smiled. “Everyone deserves to be happy, Helga. The question is…are you going to let yourself be happy?” Arnold could see it, all the years of self-loathing and deep-seated shame crashed against the steady rock that was her Arnold. He smiled and knelt beside her, not talking to her, but to the three tiny lives growing inside her. “Hey kiddos. It’s me, your dad. Your mom thinks she doesn’t deserve to be happy, but I know her better than anyone else. If anyone deserves to be happy after the life she’s had, it’s her. And I know that you three will be the best thing that ever happened to her. She’s gonna spoil you rotten because she loves you more than anything else.” He pressed his cheek to her stomach, his smile growing as he felt a little kick. “See? They agree. Not even born yet and they already think their mama’s the best.”
Helga shook like a leaf, and Arnold quickly stood up and wrapped his arms around her as his beloved wife finally let the dam break. He gently ran his hands over her hair as she sobbed quietly against his shirt, darkening it with her tears.
“Hey…” he tried to reassure, but she weakly beat her hands against his chest and stomach in protest, and Arnold obeyed, remaining quiet as she let out all of her worries and pain against him.
“You stupid…you idiotic…you, you…football head!” She whimpered, clutching his shirt tightly as Arnold gently hugged her to him, just encouraging her to let it out. “I can’t believe you, you…football head!”
Arnold chuckled gently, planting a kiss right up against his beloved’s golden locks. “C’mere sweet pea. It’s okay.” He whispered, the pet name just making her cry harder.
Outside, the rain continued to assault the old boarding house. On the inside, Helga had finally let herself reap what she’d sown.