June, 2002
Cleveland, OH
As a person with very little emotional maturity, Arthur was a terrible candidate for a baby. Yet, at twenty, he was a single father.
Amelia Fiona Kirkland was born on July fourth, 2001.
The irony of his daughter being born on American independence day, when he himself had moved from England with her mother only about a year prior, was not lost on him. Often, he blamed her rebellious nature and bad behavior on her birthday and him being English. Though in reality it was more her being more spoiled than his income allowed.
Amelia's mother left the picture entirely when the infant was six months old. And Arthur, never one to take responsibility, blamed her being a bad mother rather than his mistreatment of his girlfriend while she battled post partum depression. Rather than helping, he instead pushed her further and further into herself until she walked away from the situation entirely.
So, here he was, at seven in the morning on a city bus on the way to his daughter's daycare. Initially, he was against the prospect of putting her in the care of somebody he didn't know, but now there was no other choice.
He tried his damndest to keep the baby on his lap quiet as the bus made another obnoxiously noisy stop, sighing defeatedly when she rejected her pacifier again, and fussed loudly instead. Wasn't the entire point of the pacifier to keep this from happening?
"Meli, there's other people here, be quiet."
She animatedly babbled some nonsense in response to hearing his voice, getting a chuckle from an older woman in a fast food uniform that was sitting across from them.
"How old is she now? She's gotten real big since you started coming on here."
The unwanted attention turned his cheeks a bright pink, and he turned the baby more to face her.
"A year next week."
She waved at the woman, making her smile widely.
"Seeing her every day makes me miss my grand babies."
Arthur, still not entirely used to (or comfortable with) this style of small talk that he was surrounded by in the Midwest, absently nodded. He had found that nodding along and occasionally half smiling got him through most of these situations with no issues.
Thankfully, his stop was next.
The unreasonably hot and dry summer air hit the two of them the instant they got off the air conditioned bus. A few meters away sat the shaded bus stop itself, where he set Amelia down on the concrete with the dredges of her leftover bottle from breakfast.
"Da da."
He looked up from where he was in the middle of unfolding her contraption of a second hand travel stroller.
"Yeah?"
She waved at her dad, her toddler sized baseball cap nearly covering her face entirely. Unlike him, she had deep tan skin, which made Arthur look almost sickly pale in comparison.
"Well hi there, Princess! Are you ready for nursery?" Arthur said in his baby voice, as enthusiastically as he could manage this early in the morning. It wasn't exactly convincing for either of them, but here he was.
Amelia, displeased, wrinkled up her nose.
"Right, well." He said with a sigh. "It's time anyway, so we're going in the pram now."
"No!" Amelia cried, and kicked her stubby legs, nearly sending her sandals flying across the pavement.
As one of the few words she could say, 'no' coincidentally became one of her dad's least favorite words to hear. While he loved hearing her find her voice as she grew up, that word was the exception.
Regardless of her protest, she ended up buckled in the stroller, and down the poorly maintained sidewalk leading to her daycare they went.
A bell rang lightly as Arthur struggled to wedge his body and the stroller through the front door of the daycare center, almost mockingly, it seemed.
"Hey there Arthur! How we doing this morning?" Came sweetly from the front desk, far too saccharine for how fucking early she was here. Was he the only person around here who didn't actively enjoy being up so early? Jesus Christ.
He tried to imitate the midwestern half smile, and waved to the best of his ability.
"We're fine, thank you."
Finally, with a concerning pop, the stroller came free, and he could push his way inside the comfortably air conditioned building.
"So, her teacher is running a little late today, so I can just keep her here in the office with me." The middle aged woman said with a smile, aimed at Amelia alone. "You wanna come with me honey? You wanna sit with your Miss Carla? Say 'bye bye' to Dadda so he can go to work!"
The infant waved as the daycare's director took her out of the stroller, and set her on her lap.
Once Amelia was settled in at daycare, he went right back to the bus stop. Just without the stroller, diaper bag, or infant in tow. Traveling light, comparatively, especially for him. How many hours did he spend waiting at bus stops a week? It would be a ridiculous amount of time if added up, he was sure of it.
"It's too fucking early." Arthur mumbled as he lit a cigarette, his hair displacing itself against the hot plexiglass as he leaned against the back of the shelter.
After a full shift of loading and unloading trucks at a warehouse for a grocery store, Arthur was finally back in his barely standing apartment building.
Did he hate every brick of this hellhole? Yes. Could he afford better? No.
He sighed as he shut the notoriously creaky door gently behind him so as to not wake the infant in his arms. After scanning and loading all day, he could hardly put a coherent thought together.
A message waiting patiently for him on his answering machine was only about to make his night worse.
"Hi Arthur! This is a friendly reminder that unless you pay tuition in full next week along with what you already owe, Amelia will not be able to attend. Have a good night!"
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck." He mumbled to himself quietly as his world seemed to spin, and turned toward the bedroom, then the door. "Right, so I'll put you in your cot first, then, then, well…"
"You're so expensive." Arthur said only half jokingly as he set his daughter down on her stomach in her crib, still in her clothes from daycare. "I love you, Meli."
More for his own amusement than hers, he gave the sea creature mobile above the crib a spin, before turning their taped together box fan on its highest setting.
He took his sweat soaked uniform polo and khakis off, and sprawled out face down on his bed with a deep sigh.
At least I'm third shift tomorrow.
While Amelia was down for her morning nap the following day, Arthur knew he needed to make some calls about this, well, tuition bullshit. And fast.
As someone who, at best, skirted immigration law daily, Arthur needed somebody with a bank account to write checks for him. This is where the Kellys came in.
Him and Amelia's mom moved initially to this city because she had family here who could sponsor her citizenship, and in turn get Arthur a marriage visa in the future. Obviously, that did not happen as planned.
The Kellys were friends of the stateside family, a very sweet couple who had left Ireland in the 1960s. They had taken pity on Arthur, which he didn't necessarily like, but considered it a damned if you do, damned if you don't situation.
Pity was never his style, and hopefully never would be. He could pave his own way! He just needed somebody to write checks for him, and take Amelia to the GP, and sometimes babysit on weekends, and, okay maybe he did need them around.
"Good morning Hugh, do you mind if Meli and I stop by? It's about her nursery tab."
His hands shook as he set the landline phone back on the receiver.
While he knew Hugh and his wife Ann were retired, thus home all day, Arthur still tried his best to be polite and give them some warning before showing up on their doorstep.
A return call came half an hour later.
"Sorry for the late call. You can come over, I'll have Ann put the kettle on."
The homeliness of it all put an authentic smile on Arthur's face, reminding him of his own grandparents back home.
Arthur walked to the bus stop with Amelia in tow after her nap, uneasy about the nearly three hundred dollars in cash he had stashed in the bottom of his daughter's diaper bag, folded up in an old cigarette carton.
It didn't look suspicious, did it? Imagine robbing somebody carrying a pastel pink diaper bag, just to find all that cash underneath the diapers and extra clothes thrown in there haphazardly.
Not that he wasn't used to rougher areas from spending his formative years on an estate or anything like that. But the prevalence of guns unnerved him more than the threat of knives ever did at home. Or maybe he was just dumber and believed himself invincible in his teenage years, before Amelia was even a thought in his mind.
"What do you think your Nan is making for lunch?" He asked to the air as he pushed the stroller, more to alleviate some of his own anxiety than anything else.
Babbling came as his response, per expected.
"Really? I've never thought of that." Arthur said dryly in response, wiping his forehead with the back of one hand. "It's so fucking hot today, mate. You're lucky to have the shade on the pram."
Maybe if he hadn't grown out his bangs to hide his eyebrow piercing in an attempt to look more professional, this wouldn't be as bad. But who knows!
"Arthur! Come in, come in, you look like you're going to melt."
Well, he didn't think he looked that sweaty, but fine.
"Yeah, I guess it's hot today." He said unsurely, not fully knowing how to respond to that. "Meli got excited when we got to your street."
Ann smiled, and picked her up out of the stroller.
"You wanted to see me! Or did you just want scones?"
Arthur stood in the doorway awkwardly with the stroller, as he fiddled with the seam on one of the patches on his jeans.
"Well come in, don't stand out there all day."
He took his docs off at the door, and lined them up against the floral wallpapered foyer.
"So, I have the money with me, but she'll need a nappy first." Arthur said matter-of-factly, holding his arms out for Ann to hand him Amelia. "I'll be back."
He climbed the stairs to their guest bathroom with the infant on his hip, and set his daughter down on the tiled floor.
"You just had to shit yourself on the way here, didn't you?"
She smiled widely, her eyes closing to slits from her chubby cheeks.
"You're lucky you're cute!" Arthur said in his baby talking voice as he grabbed wipes and a diaper from her diaper bag. "Come now, let's lay you down."
A few minutes later, they were back in the foyer, and he set Amelia down so she could crawl down the hallway to the kitchen.
"We're back! Now your house won't stink like shi-"
"Don't finish that word. Remember where you are, Arthur."
He flushed red at hearing Hugh's voice.
"Sorry."
"I just don't understand why they won't accept cash, altogether. Everyone accepts cash."
Arthur shrugged, half empty mug of heavily sugared tea in hand, as Hugh wrote out a check to the daycare.
"They don't want the risk of counterfeit cash, I've already asked."
"Either way. You need a bank account, boy, you'll only be needing to write more checks." The gruff older man said in a lecturing tone as he handed the check off, and accepted the folded up wad of cash.
"Thank you, again."
Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur kept an intense watch on his daughter, who had just pulled herself up on the corner of the other couch.
"Hugh, mate." He said quietly, to not break the infant's concentration. "Look."
The room went completely silent as they stared at Amelia.
At first unsure, she held onto the cushions for dear life. But as her confidence grew, so did her speed, her chubby fingers barely floating above the floral upholstery by the time she reached the end of the L shaped sectional.
"Me-"
A shushing sound followed, before Arthur could get her name out.
"Just trust her."
She did another agonizingly slow lap around, before falling softly on her diapered butt upon running out of couch to hold onto.
"Meli!"
Amelia gave him a look of complete shock, before bursting into tears.
"Come here." Arthur said softly as he pulled her onto his lap, his crooked yellow teeth and gum piercing on full display as he smiled widely. "Look at you! You're so big!"
"Aye, she'll be your size soon." Hugh said with a laugh, and made a hand gesture around the two of them.
God, what a terrifying thought.
"You have your own food, you know." Arthur said crossly at dinner that night as his daughter eyed his plate from her high chair at the unsteady card table. "It's the same thing, fuck sake."
She pouted intensely, and threw her sippy cup of cola to the floor.
The sound echoed through the apartment as he stared at her.
"I'm not picking that up."
An eardrum shattering scream followed, and Arthur sighed as he continued to eat his corner store fried chicken, completely unbothered.
"I were going to give you some of my chips as well, shame."
He licked his fingers, and did a double take upon noticing the time.
"Shit." Arthur looked at his infant, strapped into her high chair. "I'll be right back, okay?"
She should be fine, right? It's not like she was about to go anywhere while strapped in.
Arthur knocked at his upstairs neighbor's door.
"The fuck do you want?" Came in the form of an annoyed shout, until Javon's roommate opened the door.
His relationship with Javon, his upstairs neighbor, was strange, at best. Kind of like friends with benefits, but with babysitting thrown in for good measure. Not that he was complaining! He was decently happy with both of those things.
"It's me. Are you lot still watching Amelia tonight? I've got third shift."
Recognizing him by the accent, the sound of different locks being undone inside followed.
The door opened to reveal Andre, who scratched the back of his neck as he thought, parting his shoulder length dreads to one side.
"I'll ask Von, but I think he's good. As long as he doesn't smoke first."
"If he's not completely fucked, it's fine." Arthur said dismissively, inwardly wishing he could afford weed regularly like the good old days. Pre-parenthood was a simpler time.
True to his word, Von knocked on Arthur's door not long after.
"You didn't have to come so early, I know you just got home."
Javon answered him with a kiss to the forehead, his usual sparkly eyeshadow catching the dim fluorescent light from the hallway.
"You know I wanna see you, honey. Did y'all get chicken tonight? Whole place smells like it."
Arthur nodded, and used his head to gesture deeper in his apartment.
"I were getting ready to change her once she's done eating, all I need to do is-"
"Get her a bottle and settle her down for bed, right? I've been here at bedtime a million times." He said jokingly, and put an arm around Arthur. "How's my little diva doing?"
"Walking."
Javon's eyes opened wide.
"She's walking? Holy shit, I gotta see this! How are you not excited, dude?"
"I am excited! I just don't show it like you." Arthur said defensively, his arms crossed.
"Yeah, you're too punk and badass to be excited for your daughter, whatever." Came as a dismissively sarcastic reply, accompanied by a shit eating grin.
Arthur rolled his eyes, and sank into his couch.
"Only use two scoops of formula, it's fucking expensive." Arthur said over his shoulder from the living room as he changed Amelia's post dinner diaper on a raggedy bath towel laying on the floor.
"Then what's the point of buying formula if you're not using enough?" Javon mumbled as he leveled out the scoop with a butter knife, dumping it into a clean bottle.
"She can be off of it once she turns one, I can't wait." Arthur walked into the kitchen, and put the used diaper in the kitchen trash. "Milk is loads cheaper."
"Don't she drink Pepsi? I don't think milk is the issue here." Javon said only half jokingly as he shook the bottle up.
Never one for criticism, Arthur set his jaw, and furrowed his brow.
"Are you the one with a baby? I know what I'm doing."
What happened to the Javon that just liked having a baby around him? When did he start nagging so much? So obnoxious. Arthur left for work early that night, wholly irritated that he would try to tell him how to raise his child.
Thankfully, tonight he was on shift with one of his only coworkers he liked at either job. The thought of seeing Gilbert made him smile to himself, alone in his row on the bus. Coincidentally, the store manager avoided putting them on shift together unless he had no other choice.
"I feel fucking pathetic, I have to pay Amelia's babysitter in donuts 'cos I can't actually pay him." Arthur said only half jokingly as he shoved donuts he knew Javon liked into a grocery store plastic bag, his back turned to the security cameras. "Glamorous, isn't it?"
"Very." Gilbert said with a laugh as he sipped on his fourth shift coffee of the night, though they were only allowed one. "You're kickass birth control, not gonna lie to you."
Arthur squatted down and gave him the finger between his legs. "You're not getting any fags off me next shift."
His coworker gasped dramatically, and set his coffee on the counter.
"Say it isn't so, I have to actually buy my own cigs now?"
"I'll give you what I have on me if you drive me home, there's a crackhead that sleeps at the bus stop by my flat, I don't feel like dealing with him tonight."
Gilbert shook his head, and gestured to the carton shaped bulge in Arthur's apron.
"Depends on what you got on you. If it's less than, like, eight, you gotta get me a bag of chips too."
"Deal. I think I have like, ten? I'll check."
Arthur turned away from the security camera, and took it out of his apron. He flipped the carton open, and sighed in relief.
"I'm not buying you shit tonight, mate!"
Arthur took a sip from his iced coffee as he walked down the barely lit sidewalk by his apartment building, nearly falling on his face when his docs hit an uneven piece of pavement.
"Just a little longer." He mumbled to himself as he walked up the apartment building's cracked stairs with the grocery bag of bagels and random donuts in hand, mentally trying to hype himself through the last hour until he could drop Amelia at daycare, and finally get some sleep.
As soon as he unlocked his door, something felt wrong. Whether it be exhaustion or intuition, Arthur didn't know for sure. But gut feelings hardly lie, especially in times like this.
"Von? I'm back." He said unsurely as he entered and set the grocery bag down on the kitchen counter, not even bothering to kick off his shoes like he normally would.
"Hey man, come in here."
A response at all startled him, used to overnight babysitters still being dead asleep by the time he got home.
"Is Meli alright?"
The faint glow of the sunrise coming through the blinds lit his neighbor's silhouette from behind, holding Amelia to his chest.
"She started fussing like an hour ago, and woke up real hot." Javon stood up slowly from the bed, careful to not jostle the sleeping infant too much. "I just got her back to sleep, but, yeah. Feeling hot."
"Right." Arthur yawned, and cautiously picked his daughter up. "Thank you. When I get paid-"
"Don't worry about it. I hope she feels better." Javon whispered, and kissed Arthur on the forehead. "Y'all take care now."
On his way out of the apartment, he took a jelly filled donut from the bag, and shut the door with a quiet click.
They sat in silence for a few minutes after Javon left, as the situation as it was fully hit Arthur.
A whimper took him out of his thoughts.
"Oh, come here." He said softly as Amelia started to cry, running his hand in a circular motion on her back, her skin hot to the touch. "Let's get you out of these clothes, and have some water, yeah? You'll feel better."
Arthur laid his daughter down on his bed, and unzipped her pink striped romper, making her shiver.
"I know, I'm sorry, babes."
He set Amelia on his left hip, and reached for his well worn infant care book with his free hand. The section on fevers was at the ready from last time he needed it, a liquor store receipt shoved haphazardly inside as a bookmark.
"No clothes, water, wait on medicine. No clothes, water, wait on medicine. No clothes, water…" Arthur chanted to himself as he shut the book, and tossed it in the general direction of the nightstand.
The kitchen was dim as he fumbled around for a sippy cup, gently making a shushing noise as he filled it with cold water at the sink.
"I know you're ill, but you need to drink." Arthur mumbled to himself when Amelia refused her cup again, turning her head to the side as he held it up to her mouth. "Please, even a little bit."
After another unsuccessful attempt, he set the cup down entirely, and sighed before getting up from the couch.
Truth be told, she looked ragged. Propped up on the couch in just her diaper, her curly blonde hair plastered to her forehead from sweat and small red sores dotting the area around her mouth.
"Do you wanna watch some telly, Meli?" He asked, more rhetorically than anything as he grabbed the remote from the floor.
Sleepy babbling came as his response from the couch.
"I think Sesame Street should be on, too."
Considering that Amelia was undeniably awake for the day, there didn't seem to be any point in keeping them in the dark.
"Ugh, fuck." Arthur said bitterly, squinting when he opened the blinds in his living room, now fully illuminated by the morning sun.
It's not that he was upset at his daughter for getting sick. He truly felt awful for her, sitting there feeling miserable and no way to say what was bothering her.
Something about being so damn close to finally getting some needed rest, just for that all to be put on hold with no warning.
If he were the crying type, this would be enough to bring him to tears.
The two of them had both fallen asleep on the couch by mid morning, as the local PBS station droned in the background.
A knock at the door woke Arthur with a start, and he grumbled to himself as he got up, and dragged his feet the few steps to the door.
Still half asleep, he fumbled with both sets of locks on the door until he could finally see who dared to wake him up.
"Andre? What the hell?"
Andre grunted a greeting of sorts, and all but shoved a plastic bag at Arthur.
"Heard Meli was sick."
Not really having a choice, he accepted the bag, and peered inside. By the looks of it, Andre had seen anything at the pharmacy labeled 'baby' and bought all of it, indiscriminately.
"Wow, erm." Arthur shifted the bag from one hand to the other. "I don't know what to say. Thank you."
"Welcome." He said with a closed lipped smile, and waved before walking away.
Well that was fucking weird. Arthur thought to himself after shutting the door, and set the bag down on top of the donut bag. At least I won't need to buy medicine any time soon.