-Five years -

"Thank you," she whispered with a smile as she handed a stack of books wrapped in brown paper to the last customer of the day. She watched as the woman left, hand-in-hand with her daughter, excited to start a new series together. It was nice to see, and yet…

Helga went to the door and closed it against the darkness. She turned the lock and stared out into the snow, the coldness fighting its way in through the drafty windows. She pulled the sleeves of her sweater down around her hands, folded her arms around her, and flipped the opened sign over. She pulled the blinds down. She slowly made her way around the small book shop, checking that everything was in its place for tomorrow. She could do it in the morning, but why wait?

She flipped the lights off and headed upstairs. After the incident, she had to leave. There was nothing left- only nightmares. She sold Pataki's pages, a painful move, but it had to be done. She left everything behind in there. Everything except Arnold's sculpture.

Jason had been arrested. Robby pulled through, and like the great brother-in-law he was, Helga had a top notch lawyer on her side. Arnold's photos were brought to court and the divorce was settled. Jason went to jail where he was serving many, many years. She had a life-long restraining order against him, and was promised multiple times by multiple people that he would never hurt her again. It was over.

Phoebe had the baby. A girl, and she was the most beautiful thing. Helga remembered holding her for the first time and crying, unable to contain her joy for her friend. They named her Paige Louise Johansson. Phoebe had gotten a great job offer- double what she was previously making and much better benefits- but the family had to move out west to Wyoming. Gerald happily agreed, knowing how much it meant to her. When they told Helga, the decision was practically made for her.

"I think it's time for a move," Helga had said one night after watching Paige for them.

"What do you mean?" Phoebe asked, taking the baby from her best friend.

"Wyoming seems like a perfect place to be right about now."

"You can't be serious," Gerald said with a laugh. "What about your business? You're really going to follow us?"

She really was. She opened a new shop and called it "Paige's". She was kind of going for that double meaning thing. The money she received from the divorce helped pay for a beautiful piece of property at the edge of the town Paige would grow up in. It was beautiful with a huge swatch of land, exactly what she needed. When she wanted to write, she could go out into the woods to collect her thoughts. What was better than that?

As Paige grew, she would spend more and more time at the book shop. Helga had offered her service as a babysitter while Phoebe and Gerald were working- who wants to pay for childcare anyway? Paige would play in the shop, they would read books together, and she charmed all the customers who came. Really, she was getting the better end of the deal here, everyone wanted to meet little Paige, the inspiration for their favorite book shop. The older she got, the more she wanted to help out. It was hard to believe she would be starting kindergarten in the fall.

Life was good. It was hard, at times, but it was good.

She made a fire the instant she arrived upstairs, pulling blankets off her bed and throwing them on the couch. She curled up in front of the warm glow, pulling her book out from between the seat cushions, ready to dive in for a quiet night of reading.

Before she indulged herself in the pages, she stared at her make-shift book mark. The photo, worn at the edges and a little faded, was of her and Arnold. It was back when they were in high school. They were on the baseball field together, arms on the low fence of the outfield, laughing. She stared for a long, long time.

She heard the door open and slow footsteps trudging up the steps. The door in the kitchen open and she heard her new husband setting down his stuff, pulling his shoes off his feet. She heard him sigh heavily, happy to be in the warm house.

"Hey," he said, coming into the living room.

She tore her eyes away from the picture and smiled softly at him. "Hi."

"What are you up to this evening?" He asked, hanging up his coat in the closet. He looked back at her and she shrugged.

"Oh, just reading," She tucked the picture into the back of her book and looked back at the page, but she was distracted. He came over and sat on the couch, throwing an arm around her shoulders. "I suppose I'm really just thinking."

"Oh?" He said, sensing her slightly off mood. "Thinking about what?"

She didn't answer, but instead pulled the photo from the back of the book. She handed it to him and he sighed. "Ah, I see."

Helga closed the book, sighing as well. "Yeah."

They stared together at the young faces peering out at them. After a long moment, he turned to her and smiled an understanding smile. "You know, this is one of my favorite pictures of you."

"Really?" Helga asked, looking at him with appreciation. "This one?"

"Yeah really," He said with a slight laugh. "You look so happy here, it's just nice."

"I was really young," She said, taking the picture from his hand. "You know, it's one of my favorites too. I probably shouldn't use it as a bookmark, it's going to be torn to shreds one day."

"Well you can always frame it," He said, tapping her knee with his strong hand. She smiled at him, before looking back down at the picture.

"Man, that was a great game," She said, playing with the frayed edge. She flicked the picture, right where Arnold's face was. "If you didn't ruin it in the last inning, you loser."

"I didn't ruing anything," Arnold said, yanking the picture out of her hand. "Sacrifice bunt, Helga! Sometimes you have to do it!"

"Yeah, not that time you didn't," she said, reaching for the picture. Arnold held it out of reach, eyeing her playfully. She reached again, and again, until she was on top of him, wrestling him for the photo. He laughed and gave up, and she snatched the photo from him with a laugh. He wrapped his arms around her and she kissed him on the lips. "You're still my favorite football head, you know that right?"

"Yeah yeah," he said, pushing her off his lap. She landed on the couch with a laugh. Arnold went back to the kitchen and grabbed his bag from off the floor. He cut through the living room to the bedroom and she noticed the bag covered with plaster dust.

"Working on something big, are we?" She yelled to him in the next room.

"It's a surprise," He said from the doorway. He looked past her and out the window. "Ah shit, I left a light on."

"Electricity waster," she said, standing up and looking out the window, and indeed he was right. The huge warehouse-style garage was dark, but above it there was one light shining from Arnold's private studio. "How was class today by the way?"

"Oh good," he said as he went back into the kitchen, stopping briefly to grab his coat from the closet. again. "It's piñata day for the fifth graders, so there's glue and paper everywhere, but other than that it's not bad."

With the school so close, it was all too easy to convert the space into a classroom-studio combo, and in no time, Arnold's classes were filled to the brim with eager students.

"Sure you don't want to come with me?" Arnold called from the Kitchen.

"You already know the answer to that," Helga called back. "Besides, wouldn't that ruin the surprise art project?"

"Ah, good point," Arnold said, hesitating at the open door. "It's so cold thoooough."

"I know, that's why you're going alone!" Helga said with a laugh. "But if you hurry, when you get back I'll warm you up."

"Oh hell yes," Arnold said, which made her laugh even more. "Be right back!"

The door shut with a snap and Helga watched him running back to the art studio. He moved slowly, limping. The bullet had shattered his hip, and it had taken a long time to recover. But he healed. It took a lot of time and physical therapy, but he was strong and healthy. She smiled, watching the snow fall onto his blond locks. He turned in the drive way and looked up at the house, and seeing her in the window, smiled. She saw the words I love you form on his lips.

"I love you too," she whispered, waving at him. He smiled and took off again, eager to get back inside to his wife.

And life was good.