Chapter 2 Alone Since The Beginning
EILEEN POV:
“What does having experience in accounting really mean? Does my accounts class count towards it?” I thought out loud as I looked at a job opening on a website.
My sister snorted. “I wish. It means you have to work a job in accounting before applying. Something you haven’t done.”
I pouted as I protested. “I have managed accounts before. Remember how I helped Mrs. Smith out with her shop when I was in school?”
“Yeah, I’m sure that is what they mean. Looking at books in between folding clothes at a thrift store,” she replied sarcastically.
She was right.
Lucy, my younger sister, was nineteen and believed she knew best. I was the same at her age. But she was doing a lot better than I had at her age, so I didn’t get to judge her.
She was attending college, pursuing a degree in animation, so that we could work in movie productions. It was a technical course that not a lot of people joined, but she had a scholarship and worked part-time to cover her full tuition.
As her older sister, I could only do little to help her. She had applied to a college near where I lived and moved in with me. The two of us tried to keep up with rent on your shitty apartment.
Honestly, I was jealous of her life.
A year ago, I was in school, too. I had wanted to go into finance since high school, but during Junior year of college, my dreams took a backseat when I found out I was pregnant. I had been with my ex-boyfriend Arthur at the time. His passion for art and his view of the world had opened my eyes to an existence far more beautiful than I had noticed before.
He chased me for months before I reluctantly decided to go out on a date with him. He was charming and thoughtful, a combination most boys in school or college had failed to exhibit. The next few months were a whirlwind. I knew that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. I weaved dreams of our future together. A successful couple with a quaint home and a happy family. But it couldn’t have been farther from the truth.
I was an idiot. When we finally slept together, he convinced me that the best form of protection was the rhythm method. That condoms were uncomfortable and expensive to use all the time. I knew now that condoms were free at clinics if anyone needed them. And for whom the rhythm method worked I have no idea, but my overly fertile self fell pregnant within two months.
Arthur was on cloud nine when I told him. He planned on getting us an apartment together and raising the baby while we finished college. I wasn’t thrilled that I had to juggle both together, but I convinced myself that it would be okay with Arthur’s support.
God, I was naïve. I was young, and the world looked better through the rose-tinted glass.
I made it through spring semester with little help from Arthur. He was never at the apartment. Instead, he stayed at the frat house because it was ‘easier’. That should have sent a siren blaring through my head. Who joined a frat while his girlfriend was pregnant? I couldn’t think of a worse sign.
I chose to ignore it. Once the baby was born, he could come around. Everything would fall into place like they had discussed.
At the end of the semester, I expected Arthur to come around. But the opposite happened. I was finally done. I stormed to the frat house to confront him.
What had I expected to find when I got there? I don’t quite know. But it certainly wasn't him in bed with two other women, one blowing him while the other rode his face.
He stood in the hallway, a sheet wrapped around his waist, while he shrugged and told me he wasn’t the monogamous kind of way.
It would have saved me a lot of grief had he figured that before impregnating me!
I didn’t waste my breath arguing with him. What was the point of fighting? I had been in this alone since the beginning. All his charm and plans were trivial in comparison to the loneliness I had felt during the first few months of my pregnancy.
I spent the semester break working as much as I could before it became difficult for me to move around. I was due in September, but I planned on continuing classes.
But things didn’t work according to my plan. My beautiful daughter Bethany was born. While the labor and birth were uneventful, the timing of it ensured I couldn’t take any classes.
I had planned on going back in spring of next year, but between rent, diapers, and saving for tuition, I had no choice but to take the year off and save. I planned on working all summer like I had done while pregnant, but with a newborn on my hip and no money for a babysitter, I couldn’t keep myself above water.
Everyone told me to claim child support from Arthur. But he didn’t have a job yet and went to graduate school right after. There were no wages to be garnished. The best I could do was get back payments for when he did graduate and got a job.
But those delayed payments were no good when I was struggling to keep a roof over our heads. I needed the money. I stopped going to school and now… now I needed to repay my student loans too.
Lucy was my gift from the gods. She decided to move in, pay rent, and watch over Bethany while I worked. My parents were divorced, and while they had been supportive, they didn’t have money to pay for school, either. Dad advised me to return home with the baby to live with him, but I wanted to survive on my own. I was ashamed for amounting to nothing… to break his heart and his hopes for me.
If I moved back home, I would never go back to college again.
So, here I sat, looking for jobs with Lucy. The fall semester started soon, and Bethany was going to turn one. I prayed that I had saved up enough money to take at least one class, but things weren’t looking optimistic.
“Maybe you can ask for extra shifts at the restaurant?” Lucy wondered out loud as she browsed through the listings from beside me.
“I already tried that, but I have as many hours as they can give me legally.” I sighed. “I need to find a better-paying job.”
We sat silently in the kitchen, looking at random listings, hoping something would stick. Suddenly, Lucy laughed. “Oh, you’re going to love this one,” she started. Jokingly, she continued, “It solves two problems at once.”
I knew from her tone that she didn’t actually consider the job. But I was in dire need of comedic relief, so I humored her. “Go on. What job would solve all my problems?”
“The pay is ‘negotiable,’” she put the last word in quotation marks. “The job? Wet nurse.”