Edgar and Helen in Pieces

At 4:30 prompt, the doors to the dining room opened, and a couple of tired-looking employees adjusted the doorstops. Dressed in khakis and matching red polos, they smiled weakly at the diners as they filed into the room and took seats at their assigned tables. Flora had since changed again, into black trousers and a deep blue kaftan-style blouse. She smiled at everyone, yet kept casting glances beyond them. A few of the residents even commented on how nice she looked. "Probably going for Edie's man, is my guess." Whispered one lady to another. The other lady smiled dumbly, nodding, "Oh, that's nice!" And, as if on cue, a very determined Helen thump-thumped into the dining room. She narrowed her eyes, slowly scanning all the faces of the women present. Flora smoothly turned the other way, just barely missing Helen's scrutinization, and took her seat at her table, starting pleasant chat with her companions.

Helen took her seat at her own table, making comments on how the chairs didn't pull back well, and how this was probably going to be another fat-ladened meal that was causing her to gain weight. Her table companions simply nodded their heads, their lips sealed in tight smiles. Dorothy, a gentle lady with doe eyes and curled chestnut hair, raised her hand towards the empty seat by Helen.

"Oh, I don't know where Edgar is," blurted Helen, cutting off Dorothy, then downing a ginger ale.

"Ah," Dorothy managed to squeeze out, and retracted her hand before it got bitten. By lovely coincidence, Edgar appeared. Helen pretended not to notice him. Flora noticed him immediately. Her heart skipped a beat, and then she felt the pang of disappointment as he took his required seat next to Helen. Edgar looked so tired, so sad. Why couldn't he sit with her? Oh, she very well knew why. Helen continued to ignore him even as the other ladies at the table politely, curtly, greeted him. Flora knew something was wrong, but then, Helen always had some bug up her ass. She stared down at her salad and stabbed the olive with her fork, pretending it was Helen's eye.

The dining room filled with people, conversation, and the scent of damp carpet, buttered noodles, and beef stroganoff. Some tables hosted friendly chatter, some calm quiet; Helen's table--frozen. No one dared to speak when Helen turned one of her moods, or at least until she finished her second ginger ale. She kept stealing glances at Edgar as he ate. He seemed to have his teeth! Son of a bitch! Helen kept her steaming head screwed on tightly. She'd tongue lash him later. No reason to abrade him publicly, because she didn't want to share that pleasure with others. How dare he go in the kitchen without permission, and how did he know to look in the freezer? Helen wished he had gout in both feet so she could stomp them both, but good.

Edgar gloated. Granted, he had to eat slowly and carefully because these old teeth didn't fit as well as the newer ones, and he hadn't glued them in. He could tell Helen steamed. He nearly smiled, but he knew better than that.

After the main course, everyone enjoyed a dish of chocolate or rice pudding. Helen bullied the server for an extra pudding.

"You're only allowed one, you know that! Besides, that's your third ginger ale, too," snapped the server with the long, dull blond ponytail, Eau de Cigarette wafting as she moved.

"Well, dinner wasn't very filling!" crabbed Helen. She got her pudding. Luckily for the server, someone else at dinner didn't want dessert, so there was an extra.

Edgar finished his last sip of coffee. "You coming?" he asked Helen, which meant to the lounge to watch Jeopardy. Helen always said no.

"Yes!" Helen pounded her fist.

Helen's reversal caused talk in the room. Usually she returned immediately to the apartment after dinner, complaining that she needed to rest in her easy chair because the dining chairs hurt her back. Edgar would return a few hours later to find her asleep with the TV blasting and empty candy wrappers stuck in the cushions.

Edgar's face fell. Over the course of dinner, he made secretive eye contact with Flora that meant;

"Jeopardy?"

"You betcha'!"

Now this plus-sized monkey wrench was thrown into their plan. Grudgingly, he helped Helen with her walker, trailing behind her meekly as the rest of her table made a beeline in the opposite direction. Flora waited until Helen and Edgar left the room. Heavy-hearted, she felt her key in her pocket and considered returning to her room. Then she thought, no, she was tired of Helen pushing everyone around, especially Edgar. She would go and watch Jeopardy. She would sit in the TV lounge and enjoy the evening, just like everyone else.

Word of Helen's royal visit to the TV lounge spread through the dining room. Curious spectators as well as the usual Jeopardy crew filtered in, nestling into side seats and tables or taking places on the couches by the TV.

"Helen, sit here...," Edgar offered her the end of the main couch.

"Oh no, I don't think so!" Helen headed toward the brand-new plush burnt orange chair that matched the fancy burnt orange drapes and valences. She fell back heavily and sighed. Rubbing her hands back and forth on the soft arms, she exclaimed, "I could sit here all night!"

Edgar mumbled under his breath, his teeth rattling around his mouth. Flora quietly entered the room, and took a seat within sight of Edgar, but behind Helen so they could exchange glances at each other despite Helen's presence.

Jeopardy. Alex Trabec introduced the contestants. They buzzed, laughed, humiliated, and triumphed through the first round. Edgar, stuck between a rock and a hard place, kept his mouth shut. He wanted to impress and delight Flora without inviting derision from Helen. It was hard for him to keep quiet during Jeopardy, while other residents occasionally ventured an answer or discussed a contestant's comment. Flora sat demurely smiling at the chatter in the room, while Helen insulted everything.

Towards the end of the show, the contestants came down to the final Daily Double in a particularly difficult category. The statement posed, the contestants stumped, Edgar nearly jumped out of his shirt stays--he knew the answer! And he knew it was right! A tingle, a surge of power ran up his back and down through his arms. He knew! And he wasn't going to let this pass him by. Edgar stood up half way to shout out the answer, projecting his voice with abandon,

"What is the_____!"

As the answer shot forth from his mouth, so too did his teeth. Arcing through the air, they rolled over and over, descended, bounced along the carpet, and settled at Helen's feet.

Silence.

Everyone in the room had seen it. Some gasped, some giggled. Some simply stared. Jeopardy broke for a commercial. Flora hid her eyes with her hand as Edgar, mortified, picked up his teeth. Helen chuckled, then bellowed Haw haw haw! Haw haw haw! Several employees came to the door to see what was going on. Gripping the arms of the brand new velvet burnt orange-upholstered chair, Helen laughed harder than she had in years.

And wet herself in the process.

And she was not wearing her Depends.