Chapter 16 Amelia
Amelia
Taking my dad’s advice, I’m shopping for the baby’s nursery. Walking around the baby store, there’s so much to choose from. Between my dad and the internet, I’ve written a long list of everything I’ll need and before my dad left for the office this morning, he left me his credit card.
I’ve already chosen a cream-colored baby wardrobe and a chest of drawers.
I’m stood between two cots and failing to see what’s so different between the two apart from the price.
One’s drastically more expensive than the other and the only reason I can see as to why is one has a little carving of a teddy bear at the head.
I want the best for my little one, but it does seem such a waste of money that could be put to better use.
The bell over the door distracts me and I can’t believe who’s walking in. How does Darius know I’m here?
Noticing my face, he smirks and says, “I’ll always know where you are.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m going to need the same shit as you for when the kid stays with me. A home away from home so to speak.”
“My child is not staying in a house where there are drive-by shootings, Darius.”
It’s completely out of the question. How can he even think that would be a possibility?
Ignoring me, he runs his finger along the foot of the cot I was looking at.
“You like this one?” he asks.
“Can I help you today?” a bright, chirpy assistant asks from behind us.
“Yeah, we’ll take two of this one. Two of everything she picks out.”
The woman’s face lights up with the commission she’s about to make but all I can do is glare at the father of my child.
I want to ask him where he thinks he’ll set it all up in his house. I’ve been there numerous times, he doesn’t have a spare room. But I don’t want to be rude. Someone like Darius makes things happen.
I move along to look at the changing tables and he asks, “When’s your next doctor’s appointment?”
There’s no point in lying. “Next Tuesday.”
A week away and I dread what he’s going to come back with.
“At Angel East, I take it?” I nod. “I’ll be there and every single one after too.”
I stay quiet. I’m not going to argue with him in the middle of the store.
Everything I choose, he adds another and where I pay with my father’s card, he pays in cash. He rattles off his address after I’ve given mine and I go to leave when he subtly takes my hand and forces me to his side. He only releases me when he’s ready to leave the store.
With nothing else to be said, I head for my car, noting his is parked behind mine and Jermaine is sat in the driver’s seat.
Unlocking my car, I slide in behind the wheel and dump my purse on the passenger seat, just for it to be thrown onto the tiny backseat when Darius sits next to me and makes himself comfortable.
“What are you doing now?” I ask, losing my patience.
“I need to speak to your dad. Let’s go.”
“He won’t be home for hours and I have an appointment I can’t rearrange, so if you could go get in your own car and we go our separate ways, that would be nice.”
I can’t stop the bitter sarcasm oozing from me.
“Oh yeah, what appointment and with who?”
Since there’s no point in keeping things from him, I say, “With an interior designer for my baby’s nursery.”
His hand clenches into a fist. “Did you climb on yourself and get yourself pregnant?” he grates out.
“Huh? No.”
“Then you need to quit referring to our child as yours alone. You feel me?”
The last time I said I feel him, I ended up inviting him around to fuck me. I keep my mouth shut and bring the car to life.
He doesn’t speak a word as I drive across the city until I hit the street I live on.
“This car isn’t exactly safe for you to drive in your condition.”
“My dad has a more suitable car on order, it should arrive in the next few weeks.”
“Good.”
We revert back to silence as he follows me into the house and hovers in the doorway to the kitchen as Catherine tells me lunch is ready.
Eyeing him warily, she silently asks me if I’m okay. When I nod, she leaves to carry on with rearranging the flowers in the foyer.
“At least I don’t have to worry about you not eating well.”
He walks farther into the room and picks at the small buffet Catherine has laid out. He shoves a tiny sandwich in his mouth as I say, “You don’t have to worry about me. Actually, I’m surprised you do at all.”
His eyes find mine and I step back when they darken. “I’m not completely heartless, Amelia. For my baby to be strong, I need you to be strong.”
Of course it’s all about the baby. I don’t know why I keep having these fleeting moments where I believe he’s thinking of me and me alone.
He kicks out a chair, barking, “Sit.”
“You got away with talking to me like shit in your part of the city, but this is my house, and you’ll show me more respect.”
He holds my gaze and shrugs. “What time is your decorator due?”
Glancing at my watch, I murmur, “Half an hour.”
He loads me a plate of sandwiches and pours me a glass of lemon and lime water from the pitcher. Setting them in front of me, I take a bite out of the ham and cress sandwich and watch his every move as he inspects the kitchen and then hovers by the doors to the back garden.
“The kid is going to have a lot of room to play in a yard this big.”
Chewing, I nod.
“Have you lived here all your life?”
“Since I was three, so pretty much yeah.”
“And you feel safe and happy here?”
What kind of question is that? Of course I feel happy and safe here, it’s my home. It’s where I come home, knowing I’m loved and wanted.
“Yes,” is all I say.
He joins me at the table and snags a sandwich from my plate. His jaw works overtime as he chews, and I dart my eyes away when he catches me watching.
“Have you told your mom and grandmother about the baby?”
“Yes, my mom isn’t too happy, but my grandmother is looking forward to meeting her great grandchild.”
I smile. Throughout all the confusion and uncertainty around Darius, I like knowing my child has a family spanning three generations.
Both sets of grandparents on my side have passed on and it’s not like my mother is going to make up for it by being a doting grandparent.
It’ll only be me and my dad from my side of the family.
“Do you keep in contact with your dad?” I ask.
“I told you, he’s in prison.”
“Yeah, I remember, but I asked if you keep in contact. They have phones and you can write letters.”
“Do I look like I write letters?” He snorts.
“I don’t know, I thought I was getting to know you, but I was obviously wrong.”
He has nothing to say in return and I concentrate on the food in front of me while he seems happy to continue looking around.
“My father knocked my mom up when she had barely turned sixteen. He promised her he’d look after her, gave her a story about a future girls in our neighbourhoods only dream of.
Of course she believed him, she had to, she had no parents who cared or people who looked out for her.
That rosy bright future shattered before I was even born.
He cheated on her, beat on her, stole the little she managed to get.
He once made her sleep out in the yard in the winter because I wouldn’t stop crying.
I was eight months old. One night he tried robbing a gas station and shot two people.
One of them was an off-duty police officer.
He got life without parole. He robbed them because he wanted a fix, not to feed me or my mom, but to feed his addiction.
So no, I don’t write to him or visit him.
He’s never tried calling and if he did, I wouldn’t give him the breath needed to speak to him. ”
I couldn’t imagine my dad treating me in such a horrid way.
“Why did you share that with me?”
“Because I guess I want you to know that I’m not my father, everything I do is to make my family’s lives better.”
The doorbell rings and I’m grateful for the interruption and the fact we’ll no longer be alone. I don’t hang around to see if he follows and go to answer the door.
Gloria Becket smiles brightly, clutching a heaving folder and fabric booklets.
“Hi, I’m Gloria.”
“Hey, I’m Amelia. Please, come in.”
I step to the side and her heels click on the marble floor. They stop and I find it’s because she’s staring at Darius.
“This is my… friend. Darius. He won’t bother us.”
He steps forward and holds his hand out. “I’m the father of the baby,” he informs her as she shakes his hand.
“It’s nice to meet you. Is there somewhere I can unload this lot,” she asks, jerking her chin at the haul in her arms.
I point to the dining room and sit while she sets everything out. Darius lingers in the doorway, again, his eyes everywhere.
“I’ve already picked out the furniture. I took pictures so you’d know what to match.”
“Do you have a colour scheme in mind?”
“I’ve chosen cream furniture, but I’d like soft colors on the walls and loads of different textures. I read that’s important for baby development.”
She smiles warmly and nods.
“First, I’d like to see the room you’ve chosen so I know what space we’re working with.”
“Sure.”
The next two hours are filled with talk of colors and ideas for murals, which I vetoed. I do not wish to walk in during the middle of the night and see animals on the walls all staring at me.
“I’ll draw up a few ideas and be in touch.”
I see her out and bump into Darius when I turn around after closing the door.
“I’m sorry.”
Startled, I mutter, “Huh? What for?”
“I should’ve heard you out the night you came to tell me you were pregnant.”
Shrugging, I say, “It is what it is. There’s no point living in the past.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, the conversation dies between us.
“So, I’ll text you the time for my doctor’s appointment next week.”
Opening the door, I expect him to leave now that Gloria is gone but he walks into the living room and drops down onto the couch.
“I told you, I need to talk with your dad. I’m not leaving yet.”
“Seriously? He won’t be home till this evening.”
“Then I’ll wait.”