Thomas Julian Kemp (asterismos) wrote in nevermore_past, @ 2013-04-03 20:25:00 |
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Entry tags: | jameson kemp, thomas kemp |
WHO: Thomas and baby Jamie
WHAT: Just money trouble and a Spaghetti Os calamity
WHEN: 17ish years ago
WHERE: Their shitty studio apartment
The responsibility of keeping both his baby son and himself fed, clothed and with a roof over their heads was not an easy burden for Thomas to shoulder. It hadn't taken much time at all for things to go from good to bad. When Thomas had moved in he had had three months' rent paid in advance. He and Jamie had been living in the tiny studio apartment for five months now, and paying the rent each week was definitely a struggle.
He worked two minimum-wage jobs and received benefits and food stamps, but money was still rather tight. New York was not a cheap city, even in the kind of neighbourhood Thomas and Jamie now called home. Thomas had rather a lot of sleepless nights worrying about money and what to do to get more if he needed more.
He was stretched out on a blanket on the floor, watching Jamie attempt to shove a circle-shaped block into a square hole. "That's the wrong block, you silly boy," Thomas said, his voice fond as ever. "Try this one." Retrieving the square block, he held it out to his son who gave him a dubious look and continued on with the circle. "Fair enough then," Thomas said with a shrug. Jamie was almost 18 months old and Thomas couldn't quite believe how fast he was growing.
"Saus!" Jamie shouted, and he threw the circle in Thomas' direction, though it landed well short of him. He hadn't really done it to hit Thomas anyway, Thomas was fairly sure it had been done in enthusiasm for his favourite food and it was little wonder. A quick check of his watch told Thomas it was about 45 minutes later than they usually had dinner. He hadn't been paying attention.
"Applesauce? We don't have any applesauce, Jamie. We have Spaghetti-Os! You want some Os?"
"SAUS!" Jamie cried happily, though Thomas just chuckled. He stood and scooped Jamie up into his arms and he was heading into the corner of the apartment where the kitchenette was located when there was a knock at the door.
"Shivers," Thomas hissed, instead of swearing in front of his son. A habit he would eventually abandon. "Okay, into your playpen just for a moment. Daddy has to get the door. Yay, playpen!" He figured if he sounded excited, Jamie was less likely to fuss. Once Jamie was safely inside, Thomas went to answer the door though he had a sickly feeling in his belly that he knew who it was.
Upon opening the door, he was proven right. His landlord was facing him and Thomas had to focus on not panicking as a fake smile spread on his face. "Mr Latimer, hello!"
"Rent's late, Kemp," Mr Latimer said without greeting. Mr Latimer was not an unkind man, he was just unappreciative of having to badger people just to get paid.
Thomas chewed on his lip and then he leaned against the door frame. "I know, but I get paid on Wednesday and I can get it to you then. I promise. My son needed some antibiotics and I had to pay for those this week. I'm sorry-"
"I like you, kid, and I know it's not easy, but you have to pay your rent on time."
"I will! After this week I'll really try!" Thomas promised, and he hoped he could follow through.
"They got shelters you can live in for free," Mr Latimer continued. "They feed you and everything."
Thomas made a face at the idea. He was young and he still considered himself too good for that kind of thing. "But you live with so many other people. What if they steal my stuff or hurt my son? And there's such long waiting lists anyway. I'll do better, okay? Look!" Thomas darted into the apartment and he grabbed his wallet. Upon returning, he handed his landlord his last twenty dollars. "I can give you this now and I'll get the rest to you on Wednesday, okay?"
From the look on Mr Latimer's face, Thomas could tell he was going to allow it. He really was incredibly kind even if seeing him always meant Thomas had to fork money over. He was fairly sure he would have been kicked out by now if the apartment had any other landlord. "Fine, but this can't keep happening."
"Okay. I know. I promise," Thomas nodded again. Mr Latimer gave him a sympathetic look and then he left Thomas alone.
The moment the door was closed, Thomas leaned against it and he ran his hands over his face. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck," he hissed under his breath.
"Dada! Saus!"
Pulling his hands away from his face, Thomas found Jamie standing up in his playpen, clinging to the edge with one hand, the other outstretched. His hand clenched and unclenched, which was usually Jamie sign-language for 'gimme'. Despite being stressed and tired, Thomas never took it out on his son. He made sure to smile again, and he went to retrieve Jamie from the pen. "Okay okay, trash compactor. Dinner time."
Upon opening the cupboards, Thomas located a can of Spaghetti Os and he eyed his supplies critically. They were very low and he had already used up his food stamps. "We might have to go to the food bank," he murmured even though Jamie had no way of understanding. He was allowed to go pick out up to ten items a month which did help, though he usually used it to grab some baby food which was ridiculously expensive otherwise. "We can share this, right?" he asked, shaking the can around. He'd just given his last twenty dollars to the landlord so he couldn't shop until after Wednesday which was still half a week away. "Share?"
"No!" Jamie shouted though it was highly unlikely he knew what he was saying no to. He just tended to love using the word.
"Greedy!" Thomas chuckled and he placed Jamie on the floor so he could warm the food over the stove. As he cooked, Jamie stood and clung to Thomas' jeans.
When the food was ready and Jamie was safely in his high chair, Thomas sat opposite him so he could spoon food into Jamie's mouth. "Yum yum, Spaghetti Os!" Thomas said cheerfully, trying to ensure Jamie didn't get fussy that he wasn't eating applesauce like he had been demanding, though chances were he wouldn't even remember. Jamie flapped his arms happily as Thomas fed him, banging away on the high chair tray in between bites. "Hungry boy today, look how much you're eating! Daddy needs a bite too." He ate a bite of the food dramatically and with a funny noise which made Jamie laugh uproariously.
"Oh you like that, do you?" Thomas took another few bites before he resumed feeding Jamie until the little boy turned his head and refused more. "All full?" Thomas asked, eating the spoonful himself. "I think you ate nearly half of the can. You're an endless pit!" Thomas joked, his eyes going wide for dramatic effect. He spooned more of the Os into his mouth until Jamie started flapping his arms around again.
The little boy pointed at Thomas and made a noise similar to the one Thomas had made while stealing sneaky bites. "Bite! Dada bite!"
"Demanding," Thomas said with a laugh, but he repeated the action, dramatic spooning, sound effect and all. Jamie laughed so hard his little hands went into the air and when he brought them down again, one caught the bowl and sent it flipping to the ground where the Spaghetti Os scattered in incredible fashion.
There was still silence for several moments while Thomas tried to work through what had just happened. Before Jamie had come along, Thomas' temper had been quite legendary. And while he had absolutely never taken it out on his baby son, and the urge to scream and yell and punch things was lessening over time, he still struggled with it on occasion. Not two years ago he would have kicked and screamed for a lot less than someone scattering what was left of his already small dinner all over the floor. The look on Jamie's face snapped Thomas out of it almost immediately and he didn't even need to count to ten. Jamie was aware he had done something wrong and he was clearly on the verge of tears. His tiny lip was wibbling and Thomas was powerless against it.
"It's okay, baby!" Thomas stood and he released Jamie from the chair, scooping him up into his arms. "It's okay, I'm not mad. Look see!" He held Jamie back and grinned widely at the boy before planting kisses all over his face and it wasn't long before Jamie giggled again. "That's better, kiddo," Thomas cooed to him. "Come on, I'll clean up the floor later. I should clean you up first, you smell. Yuck. So dirty." Jamie didn't, but Thomas felt whimsy was best in the wake of the dinner incident. Baths meant Jamie could splash and play with his rubber ducky anyway, which always cheered the boy up.
When Jamie had been fed and bathed, Thomas could tell his son was sleepy. He stepped over to the rocking chair and took a seat with Jamie in his arms. Once settled, he sang a few lullabies and watched as Jamie's eyes fluttered closed. "Your hands are so small," Thomas informed his sleeping son. "And you don't worry about anything. I'll try to keep it that way." He leaned down to kiss Jamie's forehead and then he sat there, rocking his sleeping son for so long that he fell asleep himself, Jamie wrapped safely in his arms.