Helena breathed a deep sigh.  After a few seconds, she answered.  “Ok.  It’s a deal.  When can we move in?”  Carmen squealed and jumped up and down.  She threw her arms around Helena and they held each other tight. 

“Ahem, I hate to interrupt,” the agent spoke.  “The space will be available Friday.  You can move your things in then.

The ladies signed all the necessary papers and made their way out to the street.  “Let’s celebrate.  I’m taking you out to lunch,” Carmen demanded enthusiastically.  Helena couldn’t help but laugh at her friend’s giddiness.  She was seeing a new side to the spicy little Latina.  Here, she appeared like an innocent child excited at Christmas.  Helena couldn’t resist the offer and gave in.

“Ok,” she agreed laughing again.  “Where would you like to go?”

“There’s a great Mexican place just up the pier.  It looks out over the water.  Just a few minute’s walk.”  As they strolled along the pier, Carmen slung her arm through Helena’s.  “I can’t tell you how happy I am that you agreed to this, Helena.”

“Me, too, “she replied, tightening her one armed embrace on Carmen.

At El Torito, the women chatted about their plans for the apartment.  They also set some ground rules.  Carmen had already established her rule about the dishes and didn’t have much to add besides the fact that she had to watch her telenovella every day at 2:00 p.m.  Helena consented and requested that Carmen not make too much noise before 9:00 a.m., as she preferred to sleep in until then. 

“Helena, are you fucking kidding me?  I’m a dj, usually out until 2:30 in the morning.  I barely rise before noon most days!” 

They shared a laugh and soon the conversation veered toward their everyday lives and work.  Helena expressed her newfound frustrations with the studio.  “I don’t know what I’m going to do.  I just don’t have it in me to stay in the movie business, but I don’t know what else to do.  I don’t have much work experience,” she explained shamefully.

“You are a strong, smart woman, Helena.  I’m sure there’s a million things you’re good at, “ Carmen reassured her.

“I don’t know about that.  I thought about going back to culinary school, but I can’t afford it and I need to work.    Or something where I’m working with people…social work, that kind of thing.  I have a little experience in that field, with all the charities The Peabody Foundation funded.”

“See?  You’d be great at a lot of things.  And you’re name alone is sure to get you a foot in the door.”

“We’ll see,” Helena trailed off.   She hated to admit it, even to herself, but for the first time in her life, she was scared.  She was born with a silver spoon in her mouth and never had to truly work for anything she wanted.  The security blanket which was her wealth was gone and with it any self confidence she’d had.  It had all been a false front anyway.  Helena knew that people saw her the way Carmen was describing—a strong, smart woman—but now she felt weak and a fool.  Did she really have the strength to begin anew?  Reinvent herself?  She knew that if she was even to attempt such a feat, she would need as much moral support as possible. 

As if sensing her thoughts, Carmen spoke up.  “Helena, you are not your bank account.  There is so much more to you than money.  I hope you know that,” she stated resolutely.

Helena bit her lip.  She couldn’t meet Carmen’s eyes.  “Yeah,” she conceded, barely above a whisper.

“Hey, look at me,” Carmen said, reaching out to nudge Helena’s chin up.  “I’ll help you in any way I can.  I mean that.”

Helena smiled, her green eyes finally locking with Carmen’s deep brown pools.   She saw a sincerity there she hadn’t seen from anyone in a long time.   Her heart swelled with emotion.  Once again, Carmen had managed to lightened her spirits and she was thankful they had found each other.

When they finished lunch, Carmen mentioned that she had a gig that night and invited Helena to accompany her to which Helena agreed.  They parted and each made her way home to rest up and get ready for the evening.