At Last

by Aliyat Lecky

  By the time he presented himself to Helen a little later, he had an arsenal of information about her. Her likes, dislikes, family history, and other pertinent information he was able use to his advantage in order to secure a date with the cautious beauty before the evening’s end.

  For her own part, Helen recognized very early the qualities in Richard she admired, which had remained with him throughout their courtship, and into their marriage. Often women find that later in life they become disappointed in their husbands because they grow into different men as they age. This was not the case with her husband. Richard was just as focused and lovingly attentive after over twenty-five years of marriage as he was the evening they met at Jack Stark’s graduation party.

  After they started dating seriously, Richard, seven years her senior, taught Helen about life in the real world. He helped Helen shake what was left of the fairytale life her artistic parents had created for her. He pushed her to see that life was more than art and art references. There was nothing wrong with the discovery of beauty, but there had to be more purpose to life.

  Richard helped Helen to find a sense of purpose, and to redefine life on her own terms away from her sheltering parents. They had afforded her the best education in private schools, and taught her all she needed to know about the artful aspect, the color, and texture of life. That was what was relevant to them. They raised her in a way that left her a butterfly with no real aspirations other than to flit from blossom to bloom, using her senses, and enjoying the scent and touch of each flower with which she came into contact. Her parents raised her to believe that life was a sensuous exploration, and should be enjoyed as such without compromise. Richard supported Helen in her search to find her own focus. He encouraged her to think about life in a more realistic way, to consider her options so that she thought more about life further along down the road, and to discover her own talents and invest in the future. Through him, Helen realized that she was a young woman, floundering and wasting her talent and time being a social princess of the Washington art community. Purpose.

  When Richard asked Helen to marry him, Helen did not have to consider the question. Her father approved. Her mother adored him. What was left but to say yes? She considered that she was lucky to have him. He promised her parents he would take good care of her. No one doubted his word. In addition to taking care of Helen, he shared with her his aspirations and values. He kept her safe. He took care of her needs. He encouraged her dreams. He paid the bills. He flourished and worked tirelessly to keep her in a lifestyle to which her parents had provided. He kept his promise. He bestowed purpose upon her. Richard was reliable. Richard was constant.

  ***

  Angie found the birthday girl sitting in the dark garden, perched half-hidden in the moonlight, with her back to the festivities.

  “What are you doing out here?”

  Helen turned in her seat. “Just thinking about Jack.”

  “Jack?”

  “He introduced me to Richard. Or at least his sister did.”

  “You’re missing your party, and Richard is looking for you”

  “Oh, I’ll be in, in a minute. I needed some air. It’s stuffy in there. Crowded.”

  “Yes.” Angie sighed. She searched the dark plum sky for stars. Finding none to capture her attention, she ventured on. “Everyone seems to be having a good time, but the party girl is out here in the dark cold.” She shivered for emphasis. “What’s out here?”

  “Fresh air. Quiet.” She looked sideways at her companion. “And I can think.”

  “Think? About…”

  “I don’t know.” Helen considered her own answer. She had been sitting there in solitude for a while, long enough to know she had no idea what she was doing there alone.

  “Maybe you should—”

  “Look,” Helen cut her off. “I’m not in the mood to go back in. I will when I feel like it.”

  Angie pushed back further on the bench they shared. “That is the second time you have been short with me tonight.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t mean it.” Her remorse was real. It was her turn to examine the night sky for clues.

  “I know.” The two sat in silence for a while before Angie continued. “Are you going to tell me what is going on, or not?”

  “Where’s Orlando?” she asked, trying to ignore the question she was unable to answer.

  “Orlando?”

  “Your husband.”

  “I know who he is. I even know where he is.” She pointed over her back toward the tent. “When I left, he was chasing Cyn and David around.”

  Helen smiled, thinking about the two running from Orlando, and trying to avoid having their drinks seized from their underage hands.

  “But that has nothing to do with the question I asked.”

  “What question?”

  “Helen.” Angie wasn’t quite exasperated, but she wanted a straight answer. She also wanted to get back to the party.

  “What’s going on inside?”

  “A party. For you, but I’m sure you knew that. Answer my question.”

  “Angie, you didn’t answer mine.”

  “That is an infantile evasion, Helen Dahl, and you know it.” She scooted closer on the bench so that their shoulders connected. “Talk to me.”

  In the dark, Helen’s tears glistened as they pooled in her lashes. She wiped them away before they twinkled down her face as she stared into the starless sky. Angie discarded all impatience and wrapped her arm around her closest friend. She realized that this was more than the tantrum of a wife who was a little put off by her husband.

  Helen looked around in the dark at her blossoming garden. Even in the night, her garden was a lush paradise. Angie’s encouragement offered little comfort in relieving her feeling of guilt about not appreciating all the effort made on her behalf. In fact, her support only made it worse. She really did have everything. A devoted, successful husband. Two beautiful children. A successful career and friends. All of whom supported her. Why would she have any reason to feel unhappy? There were plenty of others who enjoyed only a fraction of what she did, yet they found happiness. Did they not? Was that it? Helen considered her wandering thoughts for a moment. She was not happy.

  “Am I happy?” Helen raised the question with such conviction that the words escaped without her meaning them to. She grabbed Angie’s hand to pull her closer.

  They sat in a mutually beneficial silence. Angie, who did not know what to say that might prove helpful, offered quiet support. Helen remained silent, afraid to offer the truth. To answer her own question would only begin a deluge of emotion connected to a complex reality with which she was not prepared to deal. Yet, what else was Helen supposed to do? Whom else could she confide in if not Angie?

  “I just,” Helen began tentatively, unsure of the coming response, “I just feel like it’s all wrong.” She met Angie’s shock with concern. She knew Angie would include herself in the all.

  “What?” Angie turned and stared, not knowing what else to ask. “What are you saying?”

  “I feel…” Here, Helen chose her words carefully. The fact that she had been contemplating what she was about to divulge for weeks did not lessen the complexity of the realization, nor made it any easier to finally give voice to her truth. “It, my life, feels wrong. Lacking.” She shrugged. “Mostly inadequate. There is nothing that makes me feel good. My life is incomplete, and I don’t know why.” Helen exhaled deeply for what felt like the first time in a long while. Ironically, an author, whose stock in trade was the words of emotions, could not find the words to express herself. “It isn’t Richard. I know it.” The last comment she added, a response to Angie’s expression. “It’s me. I realize that.”

  “What are you talking about?” Angie did not attempt to hide the incredulous expression or its reflection in the tone in her voice. She received no answer. The person she questioned was otherwise occupied with her past. Helen hoped to find an answer there.

  *** />
  “JACK, HELEN, MY good friend. Helen, my big brother, Jack Starks.” Penny beamed as she introduced the two. The expression was not lost on Helen, who had a feeling something was in the making when, on their way to the party, Penny talked nonstop, extolling the virtues and financial potential of her only brother.

  “Nice to meet you, Helen.” He took her hand politely, but Helen sensed that he could not be less interested. His unresponsiveness to her had something to do with the buxom blonde standing in the corner that had her eyes on him and kept her chest pointed in his direction.

  “Thanks. Congratulations. Law school, that’s hard work. Penny’s told me so much about you. She’s really proud of your accomplishments.” The last words were spoken directly to Penny, as Helen noted Jack’s attention was quite elsewhere. Specifically about ten yards behind her to the left.

  “Yeah, I guess so. Please excuse me.” He scurried toward the corner without a second look at Helen or his sister.

  “Jacky!” Penny yelled at her brother’s back. He didn’t even respond to the hated childhood nickname. “Helen, I’m so sorry. I’m mortified, really.”

  “Hey, no problem.” She glanced over her shoulder at the couple in the corner. Jack was leaning in so close that he was in danger of falling. “I don’t think I stood a chance against those.” She cupped her hands a few inches in front of her chest. Together, they broke into a fit of laughter.

  “Come on, let’s get a drink.” Part of the way to the bar, they found two empty seats.

  “You stake out these seats, Helen, and I’ll get our drinks. You’re usual?”

  Penny took much longer than necessary. When she finally reappeared, she was not alone. Besides that, to Helen’s dismay, she returned without Helen’s drink.

  “Helen, Richard Muir. Richard, my closet friend, Helen Dahl.” Penny smiled slyly at her good friend, ignoring completely the easily read expression on Helen’s face. “Richard is a close friend of my brother’s. He lives in Minnesota, where Jack just finished school.”

  “It’s really nice of you to come all the way to Seattle to support your friend.” This impressed Helen a little, but she was too annoyed with Penny, whose matchmaking tendency she had completely underestimated. “Do you come here often?” She winced. What a cliché. “I mean is this a rare visit to Washington?” she corrected. That sounded much better. Less like a pick-up line.

  Richard grinned, catching the slip and quick cover. “I get out here once every six weeks or so. Oh, here’s your drink.”

  “Thanks.” Helen noticed for the first time he held a drink in each hand.

  The evening ended much too soon. Before she realized it, she and Richard were exchanging telephone numbers as they stood on the porch of her parent’s home on Mercer Island. He promised to stay in touch. She promised to make herself available when he returned. That evening, as she finally laid her head on her pillow, she had forgiven Penny for setting her up yet again. She would also have to apologize when she saw Penny next. She and Richard had walked away from the party shortly after the introduction without a second thought to Penny. Helen, the designated driver for herself, Penny, and a few other friends, had left the party without any thought as to how any of them would get home. Still, if Penny was cross over her oversight, and that damaged their friendship, it was worth it. She smiled so much during the following weeks, that her parents hummed love songs.

  Richard returned much later than either wanted him to, arriving two full months after the party. Except for a few hours each day devoted to business meetings, Richard spent the majority of his time in Washington with Helen. They spent hours together getting to know each other. In the course of a year of visits, which became more frequent as the relationship progressed, he told her that she inspired him in ways he hadn’t considered. He shared with her his dreams as a man will only share with someone he plans to make his wife. She allowed him entry into her very private world, populated only by herself, her parents, and a few friends. She shared with him her own aspirations, which, before she met him, were vague at best. He helped her shine light on indistinct shadows of her own life goals so that she was able to give shape to and voice clearly her desires and ambition.

  Eight months into their courtship, Helen stunned her parents by informing them that she had decided to return to school to earn her masters degree. Much to her father’s chagrin, she was planning to attend the University of Minnesota a half a continent away. Her mother, who wasn’t the most maternal of mothers, made no comment about the distance, but took great exception to her intended course of study. “Creative Writing? But what about your painting? Don’t you want to paint? To be a true artist?”

  When Helen returned home to Washington for a holiday three years later with Richard in tow, her parents guessed that something was going on. In the few years Helen had been with Richard, he hadn’t once accompanied their daughter home after she had remained in Minnesota when she earned her graduate degree. Her father assumed his absence was no doubt due to guilt at pulling a daughter so far from loving parents. The truth was, he was quite busy fashioning a life for her of which her parents would approve.

  The evening began well. When the two arrived, Helen’s parents and Ben, her father’s personal assistant, all stood waiting near the door. Richard waited until after dinner while Helen and her mother cleared the table before quietly requesting an audience with her father. Helen didn’t think anything of the fact that Richard, Ben, and her dad went outside without them. It was normal for her father and Ben to take leave and sit by the pool after dinner. That Richard would join them was a natural course of action. Helen did consider the men’s reaction a bit odd as they rejoined them for cocktails. Richard, who was standing in the shadows of the garden, refused to look at her when she reached to kiss his cheek. Her father looked oddly guilty, as if he had given away the better part of a precious story that did not belong to him. Nevertheless, Helen was so happy to be at home with all of her favorite people, she chose to ignore the uncomfortable undercurrents. Her mother, Helena, who entered from the house mere seconds after Helen, was so completely entranced by her own moonlit silhouette, that she missed it all.

  Two weeks later, Richard proposed. The question took her completely by surprise. She hadn’t imagined he was prepared to ask for her hand in marriage. She hadn’t considered marriage herself. She had been satisfied with the way things were going, however, when he asked her to share the rest of her life with him, her answer was an immediate yes. She didn’t think to ask for more time to consider the proposal as would have been the prudent thing to do.

  ***

  LOUD LAUGHTER PULLED Helen out of her musings, back to the present. The night she had been thinking about occurred decades prior on a similarly starless evening, yet only now did she wonder why she did not think her life through before answering.

  “I just don’t know. It is not enough any longer.” Helen spoke in response to the expectant look on Angie’s face.

  “Helen,” Angie began cautiously. “Have you considered that, as a romance writer, you give Richard a lot to live up to?”

  “What do you mean?” The idea intrigued her.

  “Maybe your problem is you’ve created an unreal reality, and standards that no one can meet. You write romance. Romance where the hero is perfect. Life is not perfect. Well, no one can meet your expectations if they have to compete with your imagination, not even Richard, and I bet he gets pretty damn close. You know what I mean?”

  “You’re saying you think my problem is that because of what I do, I make it impossible for my husband to make me happy?”

  “Yeah. Maybe he can’t compete.”

  “No.” Helen shook her head slowly. “Richard’s fine. It’s me, Angie.”

  “Hmm, maybe you’re having a midlife crisis.” She stood up and grinned. “Be a ‘man’ about it. Buy a car, or a boat.” She pulled Helen to her feet. “But don’t perseverate.” She pulled her into an encouraging hug and kissed her friend’s cheek gent
ly. “In the meantime, you have a party going on, and I need a drink. Let’s go back in for now. We’ll figure you out later, huh?”

  “You’re right. You know, maybe it’s nothing. Maybe I am more affected by this birthday than I thought.” They began to stroll slowly back toward the pavilion.

  “Well, get over it. Shit, you look good, damn good. You age like a woman who’s sold her soul. Hell, you look almost as good as I do. Now, let’s get some champagne. Or, you can get Richard to give you your gift.”

  “Any clues?” Helen was feeling less and less like rejoining the festivities.

  “Nope, no clues.” Angie winked. “But you are going to love it.”

  “Have you seen said gift?” Her curiosity was aroused enough to distract her, after all, Richard did give excellent presents. His penchant for throwing a great party was overshadowed only by his knack for gift giving.

  “No, I haven’t actually seen the final one.”

  “Final one? That’s a clue.”

  “Never mind, girl. Let’s get a drink, find our husbands, and make them dance with us. You’ll see.”

  “Right, and let’s see if we can wind this puppy down early. I don’t want to be at this all night.”

  “Yes, then you can take your man to bed and thank him properly with a birthday surprise of your own. A little Helen on a silver platter.” Angie added a wink in case the birthday girl missed the idea.

  Both women laughed heartily, yet inwardly, Helen cringed at the suggestion. More like a birthday obligation, she felt. At some point in the evening, she had become quite turned off by the prospect of sex with her husband. She was careful not to let Angie in on her private thoughts. She wanted the party to end, but she wasn’t ready to think about what would transpire after everyone left, and she was alone with Richard.