"Ada, hurry up!" Helga called up the stairs. "We have to get going now!"

Her nine year old daughter stormed down the stairs, dragging her suitcase behind her. She looked so much like her father, it sometimes hurt to look at her.

"Mum, why are we going to Nana and Grandad?" she whined.

"Because Grandad is sick and can't travel," Helga told her daughter. She grabbed Ada's suitcase. "Jesus, what do you have in here?"

"Stuff," Ada replied. She ran back upstairs and into her room, coming back a few moments later with a backpack.

"More?"

Ada rolled her eyes and walked past her mum.

"Mum, hurry up! We have to get going now!" Ada yelled back at her, skipping out to the taxi.

Helga shook her head. She may have looked more like her father, but she was her mother all over.

Helga worried about her daughter. It was a long flight from New Zealand - where she had fled too - to the U.S, and she was hoping her daughter could take the flight. After they settled into the taxi she took a peek in her daughters bags. Dolls and books.

"I have something else for you, too," Helga said pulling a small little box out of her back pocket.

"What?" Ada asked excitedly. She loved getting presents.

Helga handed the gift to her and Ada ripped it open.

"An ipod!" she squealed.

"For the flight. Don't break it, don't lose it," Helga told her sternly. "I loaded some music on there already, but when we get to nana and grandad's you can put some of your own on there."

…...

Arnold hated airports. He was hungry and tired, after a long flight. This travelling from one side of the country to the other nearly twice a week was getting tiring. He hadn't seen his fiancée for two weeks. He was working in his dream job, but sometimes . . .

Heading towards the food court, eyeing up the McDonalds sign. He couldn't wait to be home to get some home cooked meals in him. But first, a snack stop. Waiting in line he looked around at the people who were milling about. There were people all bundled up warm against the winter cold. Except for a blonde woman and her daughter who looked dressed for summer. The woman turned around, making sure her suitcase was behind her, and Arnolds heart stopped.

"Helga!" he called out randomly. The woman looked around, seeing who called her name. so it was Helga. And the little girl . . . He stepped out of line and started in their direction. Helga was now bending down to talk to the girl. He called her name again, and again Helga looked around.

But this time, the little girl did too.

It was like the world slowed to a top. Everyone around him had disappeared. All he could focus on the girl. Her mothers eyes and nose, blonde hair in pigtails, and a slightly football shaped head.

…...

Helga saw him the second time, standing there all grown up and manly. Wearing a business suit. Her heart stopped, then started racing. Part of her wanted to run. Jump back on the plane with her daughter and fly back to New Zealand, where no one knew her past, or had grown up with her.

Where no one could find her.

Another childish part wanted to walk up to him, snap her fingers in his face and say "Ha! I wasn't lying! I really was pregnant, and you just missed the first eight years of your child's life because you followed your dick instead of the truth!".

Instead, she bent down and asked Ada if she had packed any winter clothes.

"Why would I pack winter clothes?" she asked. "Did you?"

Helga looked at the windows. She had, but looking outside, she realised that she probably didn't have thick enough winter clothes.

"We'll need to stop at the shops then," she said, sighing. "Come on."

She took Ada's hand and grabbed the suitcase and started away. A few seconds later his voice called her name again. She sighed.

"Mum I think that man is calling out to you," Ada said, looking back at him.

"I know," she said, and stopped. She didn't turn around, knowing he was going to catch up. When h did she looked up, turned around and smiled.

"Hey football head, how's it going?" she asked.

Arnold just stood there, mouth slightly ajar, staring at Ada.

"Is she?" he asked, slowly looking to Helga in shock.

"Yeah," she said, smiling down at Ada and ruffling her hair. Ada smiled at her then showed her a CD she had picked up.

"Mum can I have this?" she asked.

"No, you can buy it," Helga said.

"Can I have some money?"

"Where's yours?" Helga asked frowning. Ada looked at the ground, then back at her smiled, shrugging her shoulders.

"Have you spent it all?"

Ada nodded.

"Ada, that was ten dollars!" Helga cried out in dismay. "What did you spend ten dollars on?"

"Lollies and those games," she told her, pointing towards a couple of crane games.

"Oh, Ada," Helga said. "Well, you can't get it then, can you?"

"Why?" Ada whined.

Arnold watched the exchange with fascination. He and Rhonda had decided against children. Well, his fiancée had decided against children. Arnold wasn't to fussed either way, though admitted feeling a bit of jealousy every time he saw Gerald with his new baby son.

But right here in front of him, smiling, whining, breathing, talking, real, was his daughter.

The one he accused Helga of lying about being pregnant with nine years ago.

The one he had said he wouldn't want anyway if it meant having to put up with her.

Oh God, he'd written those very words down on paper and signed it, along with that legal document Helga had handed him all those years ago.

"Well, we better get going," Helga finally said. "Goodbye Arnold."

Arnold was snapped out of his reverie and looked at her.

"Where are you going?" he asked, still shocked.

"My parents," she said, taking Ada's hand and starting to walk away.

"Wait!" he called out, reaching out and grabbing her arm. "What-"

"You made your bed, Arnold. Lie in it," Helga told him, pulling away and leaving. Ada turned to look at him once, asked her mum something, then looked forward and left him standing in the middle of the airport watching his daughter walk away from him.

…...

"Was that my daddy?" Ada asked, awe in her voice.

"That was your father, yes," Helga told her.

Ada just nodded, then looked back at him once. He was still standing there watching them. He looked like he was going to cry.

"Will we see him again?" she asked.

"I don't doubt it."

…...

Arnold had gotten the taxi to the park and had gone for a walk. He had to clear his head. He couldn't stop thinking of Helga and Ada. His daughter! He had a daughter? Holy hell! He had a daughter! She was eight. He couldn't believe it! He was feeling all sorts of emotions. He was happy of course, but shocked, disappointed and guilt ridden.

Did she know who he was? Had Helga told her about him? What had she told her?

He had so many questions to ask, but how did he ask them? What was he going to tell his fiancée? "Hey, remember Helga Pataki? You know, the chick who pretended to be pregnant to me, but I told you she was lying and the whole school was cruel to her for it? Yeah, so I saw her and met my daughter. The baby that didn't exist? Yeah, cute kid" . . .

He finally just dropped down onto the grass. He had this urge, this need, to see her again. She was his daughter! How could he not?

But at the same time he was worried. What would this do to his relationship?

…...

(Going through a major scandalous stories phase atm. Sorry. Using Rhonda because I can't be bothered thinking up an original character.)