Amelia fumbled with the Business section of the morning newspaper as she took a seat in the corner of a local cafe hangout near coast area of Santa Monica. She liked this cafe; it was older, more rustic, personable, less crowded and nosy. It was the perfect place for struggling writers to complete their novels, not that Amelia was a novelist, she dabbled in illustrations often though, but she didn't think she was good enough to take it further.

Sighing within herself she focused on the back part of the paper, circling and giving a "maybe check" to a few job opportunities. It had been 4 weeks since she was fired for being incompetent in Brian Turner's eyes and she tried to not let it get to her. She needed money and it was hard for her to start over. Anya was doing her best to help her in any way but Amelia knew this was something she had to do on her own. All her life people were helping her out and she never knew the fine line between her responsibility and being co-dependent on other people's generosity. She tried to look on the bright side of things, focusing on the silver lining than on the detriments. It was easier said than done.

She randomly took out her sketch pad, knowing she was already distracted but couldn't help herself. There were more drawings in the book than options she had for employment. If her dad could see her now he would wag his finger at her life choices, possibly mock them and give a look of shame for them being related to each other. It was a real tragedy that her father had changed into a person she barely recognized the more she grew to know him. He was part of the crowd and she was someone who didn't fit in anywhere. Even if she tried she couldn't ease into his world.

There was just so much she didn't do and she felt like there was no way to balance any of it. She told herself to take deep calming breaths while closing her eyes. She tried that once again now. It seemed to work somewhat until she heard a loud crash coming from the worker's kitchen. Sounded like they were seldom, it was the kind of cafe where you barely heard even the old cash register make a noise aside from the till opening and the sound of coffee brewed as if it were a lullaby.

Amelia jumped as a high pitched voice of a little girl's timbre suddenly filled the room. Amelia had the urge to look on but she kept her eyes on her job search. She was too curious for her own good; not to mention the child's voice was very loud and persistent. Amelia had lost her place for a moment before going back to the list she kept underneath the newspaper sections, trying not to let the ruckus get to her.

Her eyes flickered to the noise then did a double take again to make sure she saw correctly. A young man, probably no older than she, was attempting to calm little girl with the big voice. She thought she'd seen him before; he looked really familiar. That was until she saw his face; she blinked for a few seconds until rummaging to pull out her sketch pad. She flipped to the page of the young man and his daughter and her mouth hung open. It was virtually the same image, only they were dressed in different clothes.

Amelia thought she might hide for a second, inside she stuck the notepad back into her purse. This was embarrassing for her, she was near the cash register where people ordered drinks and she didn't want to get more distracted at the coincidence playing in front of her. It wasn't that children never came inside the cafe, they had. Tourists had heard of it from friends, it was a sanctuary for people that just wanted to have peace. Children were rare unless they were from a manners school. It wasn't a place for them to make so many racquets.

She felt sorry as she watched the young man—she assumed was the little girl's older brother—tend to the child, almost like he was taking full responsibility on his own. Amelia didn't know their story and it was rude to speculate. He looked as if he had a lot on his plate. The opposite of the time she saw them on the beach that day.

Screaming was heard as a large latte cup had dropped on the floor, splashing its contents over the man. The little girl had gone emotional at the scene as the barista from behind the counter immediately went to the mess apologizing profusely. Most of the patrons that were still inside looked on as the young man went to go clean himself off, bringing along the little girl with him. He made apologizes, possibly out of embarrassment as he looked into the direction of where Amelia was sitting.

She instantly averted her eyes and stared down at the newspaper that was nearly about to fall from the table. She scooped it up and forced herself to concentrate. She watched as the man closed the door and sighed to herself. She wasn't going to get anything done like this.

She was about to get up when that man emerged from the bathroom and for a second she also made eye contact but caught herself. The barista had since put a slippery when wet sign near the spill but the spill itself wasn't cleaned. Amelia wondered if the worker had just gone to get a mop instead of leaving it like it is. She tensed her brows and thought about it for a minute. There was no way she was going to get back to what she was doing. The man was about to walk back to where the napkins were but she stood up just in time.

"Wait, don't do that."

"What?" His eyes narrowing out of worry as the little girl from before came near him.

The corners of Amelia's mouth creased as she gestured to the spill. "They didn't pick it up yet. You were about to slip on the mess from before."

He looked to where she pointed and he backed away, his shoe touched the loop of liquid as he caught it trying not to look embarrassed.

"Uh, wow, I thought they were prompt about this stuff." He made eye contact with Amelia, nodding at her. "Thanks, I appreciate it."

Amelia smiled as the little girl hid behind the man's lanky body. She had wide blue green eyes, big features; she was looking at Amelia with a shy but curious expression.

The man turned around and crouched down to her level, moving her away from the mess.

"Just keep over here OK, honey? Here sit down." He ushered her away, sitting away from the register. "I'll ask someone to clean it now. Don't step anywhere OK Jess?"

Amelia awkwardly stared on as this man came to approach her, stepping around the mess and signaling to the barista speed walking to wipe the mess.

He moved to the table closest to Amelia on the far left, looking down at his trousers and shook his head, giving up silently.

"That's what I get for ordering a latte filled to the brim around my daughter." He said, Amelia sat back down with a curious look on her face.

"Daughter?"

The man looked at her as if he'd been asked that question before, slightly annoyed. Maybe she thought I was too young also, figures. "Yeah, she's mine, she's my girl. My Jessie."

Amelia sensed maybe she was prying into his business. "I'm sorry; it's really none of my business. I didn't mean to—"

"It's OK. You aren't the first, certainly not the last person to ask me that. Sorta used to it now." The man looked off with a solemn expression.

Amelia said nothing, she was afraid to. This man was probably dealing with things that she couldn't understand, so she stayed out of it, going back to her research.

The man looked her way; Amelia felt eyes on her but didn't dare look up from the listings she bookmarked.

"Look, I'm sorry I said that. We don't know each other. I'm used to working in the business world. My life is mostly about Jessie. I don't have much of a personal life anyway. I sometimes forget how to talk to people." He said, Amelia listened but didn't reply.

She folded the newspaper page to begin at the top of the column. She could feel him staring at her still, assuming he'd get a reaction, she sighed. Unsure of how to respond to what he said. He sounded sincere for what it's worth.

"It's OK I guess. I'm sorry I asked, like I said, it's not really my business." Amelia said as she took her eyes slowly off the page, tracing them until they reached the man's eyes.

"Sorry I distracted you." He whispered as his daughter came on his lap.

Jessie looked at Amelia then at her father, not understanding what was going on.

"It's alright...to be honest I was already distracted, although I probably should go back to it, since I actually do need to lock something down."

He licked his lips about to ask another question.

"I like your hair it's pretty," Jessie said suddenly.

Amelia blushed and the man almost rolled his eyes as he kissed the top of his daughter's head. Amelia didn't think much of it, yes she made the daily routines a habit but she never went out of her way to style her hair or apply makeup. She wasn't at work, her eyes were mostly hidden behind sunglasses but since she was reading she took them off. She probably looked tired and haggard since the last few nights held anxiety on her situation.

"Sorry if we're distracting you."

Amelia shook her head slightly. "I've been actually distracted before you came by. I should probably have my nose to the grind."

The man looked at her, slightly smiling, observing her newspaper clipping, "Classifieds? Been a while since I've looked into those. Do they still work?"

Amelia smiled and looked down shyly, "That's what I'm trying to figure out."

"Well maybe if you considered—"

"Daddy, can we go see Grandma now?" Jessie's voice sprung out, startling him and Amelia.

The man looked at his daughter, standing up reluctantly. If he said what he wanted to say then Jessie was going to blow her fuse again. He could tell she was desperate to leave, but they just got here. He looked at Amelia, an understanding smile plastered over her face. He stared at Jessie's face with a bright smile.

"Yes we can." He said, taking his daughter's hand firmly in his. He turned back to Amelia, "Sorry again if we were bothering you."

Amelia waved him off, he was slowly turning into someone who apologizes more than she did. "Don't apologize. She's beautiful." Amelia looked at Jessie, smiling sweetly.

He almost blushed. It was a while since he'd heard those words coming from someone under the age of sixty.

"And she knows it." He shared a small look with Amelia, hesitating to mobilize once again before Jessie tugged at his arm for the umpteenth time that day.

"Well, thank you. Take care. I hope those work out for you." He gestured to the clipping she almost hard gripped.

Amelia blushed, looking down as she caught herself nearly balling up the paper. "Yeah...me too, thank you. Take care too. Bye." She waved mostly to Jessie who was barely paying attention to her small gesture.

He raised his eyebrows as he was practically dragged out the front entrance.

Amelia watched as he bent down to his daughter's level giving her a big kiss and hug as he picked her up strongly and held her securely in his arms disappearing on the right side of the street. Amelia wanted to ask his name but shook her head of that request. Even though she didn't know him he seemed to have a lot going on and Amelia didn't want to upset his impatient daughter. One thing was for sure he didn't strike her as a married man not only because he didn't wear a wedding band but his eyes held something else. She sensed there was something more than just what just happened a few seconds ago.

She caught herself again, realizing she was stuck examining a man she never met before and probably would never encounter again. The clear modesty shown in his green eyes weren't anything else but a random comeuppance. She accepted not knowing his name and pushed her attention back on securing a job.

When she realized she was on the last column she checked through the listings and stood up to throw away her trash. She kept the folded clipping under her arm as a massive swirl of questions began stewing around her mind. She was worried she wasn't going to land anything on her own. Not that she thought calling her father was an option. He'd sooner reprimand her if not scold and berate her so her confidence would scarred even if she landed the first interview.

There was a reason why she was dreading the day she would be fired. Brian didn't care about her. Not even her parents vowed to support her pathway, she was more or less alone in every decision she made. Anya was a secondary form of guidance. It was better than nothing, but she didn't want to bother the poor woman every time she needed her reassurance. Though, perhaps if she brought over sweet pastries of Anya's liking Amelia would have a reason to be there.

All she knew was the future was going to be predicable, except why did she feel deep down her world wasn't going to be the same after today? She brushed the notion aside and picked out an assortment of sweet goodies, hoping Anya would be home by the time she arrived there.

Notes

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