Helen's POV Part 2


‘Quick, lets talk in my car.’ Dex hurriedly swiped away his tears.
He seemed really embarrassed that I caught him crying.
‘I don’t want anyone to see me like this.’
I went around to the passenger side of the car and got in.
Dex removed a handkerchief from his breast pocket to finish wiping his eyes.
He blew his nose and took a deep breath to compose himself. He couldn’t seem to look at me.
‘I apologise for that girly fit of tears.’ his voice was stiff. ‘I feel so ashamed.’
‘Don’t be.’ I reached out to grip his hand. ‘It’s not girly to hurt. Crying is a release everyone is entitled to once in awhile.’
I know I certainly had reason to cry these days.
It was time to confront Reg about the lipstick stains on his collar.


‘I loved Mary so much. If only I could have seen what the future held, I’d been a much better person.’
Dex angrily pounded the steering wheel.
‘Damn that inn keeper for letting her die!’
It wasn’t really fair to blame Lanie’s father. Witnesses later told Remington that Harold tried to evade the collision, but the semi truck kept barreling at them. Their small car was no match.
I didn’t know what to say. All I could do was to listen and give his hand a quick squeeze to show I cared.
‘It’s too cruel of Remy to keep me out of Lanie’s life. I have changed. I don’t know what it will take for Remy to ever forgive me!’
(I tried not to imagine some very colorful suggestions Remington might have come up with if actually asked.)
‘If only Remy would allow me to make up for the past. I want him to consider me family again. Lanie could use another Uncle. There is so much I can do for them both.’
More tears ran down Dex’s cheeks. His pain made me want to cry too.
‘My God, did you see how Remy looked? The man should be in the hospital! He’ll probably die before he ever lets me tell him that I love him. It frustrates me to no end how he has to start a fight every time I attempt to make peace!’
I blinked back tears of my own.
Remington’s appearance had frightened me too.


Once again Dex attempted to compose himself.
I found a tissue and with the dim light of a near-by street lamp, swabbed the mascara steaks from my cheeks.
I’d known Remington since I was ten years old. I was inadvertently responsible for Remington and Trent finding their way back together.
Remington was the costume designer for ‘Annie the Orphan Girl’, a Broadway show that Trent had gotten me the lead in. Since Trent was my agent, he and Remington had to cross paths on the occasion.
If they couldn't totally avoid each other, Remington would be very antagonistic toward Trent.
I can still remember how they'd end up glowering at each other after those bitter run ins.
With a little help from Pop and Mama, they at least started speaking again, the rest is history.


‘Let’s get out of here.’ Dex pleaded. ‘I can have someone pick up your car. I really don’t want to be alone tonight.’
He flashed me a wry grin.
‘Since I’ve cried on your shoulder, you can cry on mine. I don’t know what’s going on between you and Reg, but he hasn’t been himself lately. I’m Reg’s closest friend, if I can’t help, no one else can.’
That made sense; however Remington’s suggestion that I talk to Reg was also good advice.
Reg and I haven’t talked one on one for a long time. Perhaps a lot of the fault for our problems was mine.
‘Come on Helen.’ Dex coaxed. ‘Let me make you one of my Irish coffees. We’ll wait up for Reg at my place.
We’ll tag team him.’


Dex looked crestfallen when I reached for the door handle to let myself out.
‘Nobody touches The Bug.’ I quickly explained. ‘Pop’s the only other human being that I’ve allowed to drive her. I’ll follow you home.’
Dex laughed ruefully.
‘I don’t know what I’m going to do with you and Reg. You both need to let go of those old clunkers you drive.’
I didn’t care how rich and famous I would ever be. I’d drive The Bug until she fell apart around me.
I knew Reg felt the same about his Lucille.


‘Helen?’
There was a intensely wistful look in Dex’s eyes.
Dex Newman was definitely a very handsome man. He could also be extremely charming.
No wonder so many women had fallen for him. It was hard to believe now that I ever thought he was creepy.
‘After Helena of Troy wraps I wonder if you can do me a favor?’
He gently reached out to touch a strand of my hair.
‘What’s that?’ I asked with a sudden unexplainable nervousness.
‘Dye your hair back to your natural brunette color. I much prefer the true Helen Harper.’


Coming next: Remington's POV.