During the drive to Helena’s house, the two women remained silent, just listening to the radio.  Helena was experiencing mixed emotions.  On the one hand, she was pleased and relieved to finally be able to open up to someone.  But now she felt a bit chagrined about all she had revealed.  As if reading her thoughts, Carmen spoke up.

“Helena, I’m really glad that you invited me out and trusted me enough to share your story with me.  I hope you’ll feel free to call me anytime if you ever want to talk about anything that’s bothering you.”

Helena was touched.  It had been so long since anyone had reached out to her like this.  Looking back, Helena realized that it was she who always extended herself to others, not expecting or receiving anything in return.  She began to tear up, but for the first time in weeks, they were tears of joy.  Perhaps she had finally found a friend.  She breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank you Carmen.  You don’t know what it means to hear someone say that.  I just hope I didn’t bore you.  I don’t usually divulge so much information about myself.  I suppose it’s the Brit in me, but my mother always taught me that in order to maintain a sense of decorum, I should not blubber on about feelings.”

“Yes, you’re mother seems to have a lot of strange lessons to teach,” Carmen mumbled under her breath. 

Soon they reached Helena’s beach house.  It was 7 o’clock and neither woman had eaten at the lounge so Helena invited Carmen in.  “I can throw together a quick dinner if you’re hungry?” she offered.

Carmen hesitated.  She had told her sister she’d be home for dinner.  But she could call and cancel.  She loved her family, but she could use a break from the chaos.  And besides, she was thoroughly enjoying Helena’s company, regardless of the somber subject of conversation.

“I’d love that Helena.  But don’t go to too much trouble,” she smiled.

They made their way into the house and Helena immediately set to work in the kitchen.  She always felt a sense of calm when she cooked.  And it was the one creative endeavor in which she excelled.  She loved all factions of the arts, but was never an artist in her own right until she discovered the culinary arts.  Her mother had discouraged her from following a career as a chef claiming that Peabody’s did not cook for other people:  Other people cooked for them.  She rolled her eyes at the memory of Peggy spouting her philosophies.  She had raised her daughter to be an elitist, expecting others to bow to her because of her name and status.  And when Helena had tried to do something worthy with the money, she was admonished for it.  And now she was disinherited because of it.  She could never win when it came to Peggy.