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Perhaps she was selfish, but Myka Bering had asked, and Helena had come. She hadn’t seen HG in several weeks. Both busy in their lives. Trying to live them, but there is still something between them that neither can let go.
The last time they met it was a café in Naples. This time they meet at children's store in Colorado Springs. They are still only friends. Now, not for the first time, Myka was wondering if it might have been a bad idea, to invite Helena back here to meet the little child who has bestowed the title of “Aunt” upon Myka. Worried it might expose to the surface wounds that might never heal, or bring up subjects that they have been dancing around for what seems like forever.
“You are going to spoil the baby.” Helena says looking bemusedly at the pile of toys and clothes Myka has in her arms. Myka can barely see over the top before she places them on the counter.
“That the Aunt’s job,” she says.
Looking around the store, Helena finds a tiny toy bear, and her expression darkens.
Not knowing if she should ask this, but the words are out of her mouth before she can process them. “Have you ever thought about getting married or something, having more children? You are a free woman with a whole new life with endless possibilities, choices.” She tries to ask this lightly. She isn’t quite sure that she succeeds. They are close friends: She can ask this. She has heard of Helena’s exploits in her new, mostly non-Warehouse life. She is slightly envious, but mostly happy for the woman who has seemed to have turned her life around…and Myka’s, always upside down. Myka wonders now what place she has in Helena’s life anymore. Friend? Something more? Does she even still have a place?
“I rather think not. I’m far too old for such endeavors if not in body, in spirit. This world is still a place fraught with terror. No one can replace my Christina, and in our line of work, being alone may be the safer course of action for all parties involved." Helena huffs, "Plus, it seems, my unique and sparkling personality tends to overwhelm all of my recent romantic prospects. You would think in this modern age; I wouldn’t have to keep up both sides of the conversation. It is a challenge."
“God…you are so much like Artie,” Myka exclaims causing Helena to do a double take with a look that can only be qualified as abject disgust.
Just like Artie, pushing away people that love you, that could share your life, like Dr. Vanessa and …people." Myka still can’t voice what is in her heart. Is she even needed in H.G.’s life anymore?
“Well, I for one, would never push away Dr. Vanessa. She is quite the charming and beautiful woman, and now that she is free perhaps I should give her a call…” Helena teases, trying to change the subject.
In no mood for jokes, Myka tries not to be distracted by the way Helena’s mouth curves around the words. She is angry: With herself, with Helena, with Artie, with the Warehouse. She is letting thing slip through her fingers once more. “You are too late again, Bunny.” She can hear Sam’s voice in her head chastising her.
“Were you aware that Vanessa has bought a house in Univille”? Helena asks, far more serious than she was a moment ago. Myka shakes her head. How the hell would HG know that?
“Artie’s is very fortunate to have a woman who will not give up on him. Who believes in him. For an old fool, he has excellent taste.” And suddenly Myka knows that they are not talking about Artie and Vanessa anymore.
She looks down. A second ago, Myka was worried about missed chances slipping through her fingers, now she looks at Helena’s hand that has slipped into her’s, and Helena is looking at her in that way that makes her heart skip and her stomach flop.
“Well, they do make a good team. “ Myka muses pointedly. She squeezes Helena’s hand, and Helena returns the gesture. Helena places the little bear that she had been holding with her other hand on the counter. “From Aunt Helena” and with those words, hope once again blossoms in her heart.
The hell with being angry and giving up. Myka Bering has never let anything worthwhile go without a fight.