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Dennis was really proud of everything he'd built by the young age of thirty. He was in his second year as a certified pediatrician, he had a nice apartment in a good neighborhood, and he had an amazing daughter.
His life with Amelia followed a routine that never changed. They woke up early, ate breakfast together without rushing, then each headed off to work and school. In the evening, while Amelia did her homework, Dennis folded the laundry fresh out of the dryer or made something for dinner. They'd eat something light, take a hot shower, and by seven-thirty, Amelia was already fast asleep.
Of course Dennis was methodical and organized. If he weren't, there was probably no way he could keep everything running. He'd learned to plan every minute of his day, because when you're a single dad with a demanding career, chaos just isn't an option.
Though, to be fair, Amelia Whitaker made everything a lot easier. She was a calm, sweet, affectionate kid. She was used to the routine and rarely gave him any trouble. She loved reading, drawing, and spending hours with her books, and that was something Dennis loved about her.
Then again, maybe her love of reading also had something to do with a pretty strict rule: on weekdays, Amelia got one hour of screen time. On weekends, that stretched to three.
Dennis always insisted it wasn't a ban, just balance. Amelia needed imagination. She needed to be a little bored sometimes. She needed to learn how to entertain herself.
And so far, it seemed to be working. Which is exactly why, whenever something disrupted his perfectly organized little world, Dennis tended to tense up more than he'd like to admit.
Like what happened when the new neighbors moved in.
He first heard about them during a building meeting. They'd finally sold apartment 4AB.
That cursed apartment had caused everyone a lot of headaches, especially Dennis, who lived in 4C. The previous owner had gotten a permit from the city to merge 4A with 4B, and the renovation had dragged on forever, loud and exhausting.
Of course, it had affected Amelia too. For months she couldn't fully focus on her homework while five guys hammered away enthusiastically in the apartments across the hall.
The result, though, had turned out beautiful. No one could deny that. The problem was that it now cost a fortune, and nobody seemed too interested in buying it. Until, after six months, shouting and loud noises ruined Dennis and Amelia's breakfast.
At first they tried to ignore it. It was normal. A family had just moved in across the hall. They needed to move furniture and get settled, and maybe they hadn't noticed the walls weren't exactly thick.
For three full days, Dennis didn't get the chance to meet his new neighbors. He and Amelia left early every morning, and he was stuck pulling twenty-four-hour shifts at the hospital. It was Paula, the babysitter, who filled him in on the first details.
It was a family of five, and there was a boy named Oliver who was the same age as Amelia. His daughter brought him up one night at dinner.
"Oliver's really nice," she'd said. "He likes doing experiments too."
That caught Dennis's attention. Amelia was a pretty reserved kid and didn't have many friends, so it was nice to hear her talk about a neighbor so positively. Plus, it sounded like they had some things in common.
As a chance to meet the parents of this Oliver kid, on the fourth day Dennis decided to put together a small fruit basket as a welcome gift.
He waited until Amelia finished dinner, and before she started her nighttime routine, he grabbed the basket and walked over to apartment 4AB. He rang the doorbell expecting a calm response. He didn't get one.
From the other side of the door came shouting, the blaring sound of a TV, and a man's voice that seemed to be trying to be heard over everything else.
"Someone's at the door, for God's sake!"
"I got it!" a child's voice answered.
Dennis glanced at Amelia, who was standing next to him with a smile on her face, completely oblivious to whatever chaos seemed to be happening behind that door.
Then it opened. A small girl with brown hair and brown eyes looked at them, her head tilted slightly to one side. She couldn't have been more than six. She was wearing a baseball shirt way too big for her, with two black stripes painted on her cheeks.
Next to her appeared an even smaller boy. It took Dennis a few seconds to process that he was completely covered in pillows, taped to his body with industrial-strength tape.
"Hi," the girl said shyly. "I'm Hazel. Who are you?"
Dennis opened his mouth, but nothing came out right away. He didn't know whether to focus on the kids' outfits, the sound of the TV playing what looked like a videogame, the mountain of clothes piled on the dining table, or the fact that the little pillow-boy had already wandered off with zero supervision.
He watched the boy climb up onto the couch with some difficulty. And before anyone could stop him, he threw himself onto the floor, on purpose.
Dennis felt the air catch in his chest. It was a reflex. The reaction of a dad and a pediatrician at the same time. He waited for someone to run over, for some adult voice to show up right away, for someone to check if the kid was okay. Nobody did.
"Didn't hurt!" the pillow-boy announced, struggling back to his feet.
"Cool. Now from higher up."
Another kid's voice, though clearly older, came from somewhere else in the apartment.
The boy obeyed. He climbed back onto the couch, this time up onto the armrest. He stood there, wobbling a bit thanks to his makeshift armor, paused for a second like he was calculating the jump, and threw himself off again.
This time he did let out a little groan, though the pillows muffled it.
"Leo! You okay?" That voice finally had a face to go with it. A boy around Amelia's age walked over to the smaller kid. It had to be Oliver.
Leo was still on the floor, but he got back up quickly and gave a thumbs-up with his little hand.
By this point, neither Dennis nor Amelia had said a word. Everything had happened so fast, like nobody had time to react.
"Hazel, sweetie, who's..." Finally, an adult. A very tall man with dark hair and a short, thick beard appeared, drying his hands on a kitchen towel as he walked over. Then his eyes landed on his other two kids. "Did you break anything?" Leo shook his head. "Good. Now take that thing off, we're about to eat."
Then he spotted the pile of clothes and let out a shout. "Florence, come on, I told you half an hour ago to come get your clothes!"
Oliver finally noticed the open door. His face lit up when he saw who it was.
"Mellie! Hi! What are you doing here?" The boy was wearing a Minecraft shirt. Judging by the graphics, Dennis figured it matched whatever was playing on the TV. "Dad, this is Amelia, from the apartment across the hall."
The man turned to them with a big smile too.
"Hey! We finally meet. I thought no one lived there, it's always so quiet." He tossed the kitchen towel over his shoulder and held out a hand to Dennis. "I'm Michael Robinavitch. But call me Robby, it's easier."
Dennis took a moment before shaking his hand too, offering a brief, polite handshake.
"I'm Dennis Whitaker, and this is my daughter Amelia." When she heard her name, the girl gave such a big smile that her cheeks pushed her glasses slightly up her nose.
"I told Dad I'm friends with Oliver now." She pointed at the boy, who at that moment was struggling to peel the tape off his little brother's body.
"That's awesome! Guess we've got an excuse to see each other more, huh?" Robby said it with total conviction.
Dennis gave a small smile. The kind of automatic gesture doctors learn to make even when they'd rather be anywhere else.
Suddenly a shout came from somewhere deeper in the apartment. Definitely a woman's voice.
"Who let the little critter into my room?!"
Hazel's eyes went wide. "Pickles!"
She took off running after a small white ferret slipping between the legs of the dining table. After a couple tries, she managed to catch it and hugged it tight while it squirmed in clear protest.
From where he stood, Dennis saw a tall teenage girl with her bangs clipped up and wearing an oversized hoodie, walking over with an unimpressed look on her face.
Robby held up a finger toward his guests, asking for a second.
"There you are… I told you a while ago to come get your clothes and you never showed up."
"The ferret was on my bed, Dad," the girl shot back, clearly annoyed. Dennis guessed Florence was already fifteen, a tricky age.
"Well, what can I say, sweetheart. With the mess you've got going on, anyone would think it's a den."
For a moment, Dennis felt like everyone had forgotten he and Amelia were still standing in the doorway.
Florence was gathering her clothes off the table with obvious reluctance; Oliver kept helping Leon peel off the tape; and Hazel, kneeling in front of a huge multi-level cage, was trying to coax Pickles inside while whispering sweet nothings to him.
"So, we just wanted to bring you this, as a welcome gift." He held out his arms and handed Robby the fruit basket.
"What a nice thing to do! Thank you so much." He lifted the basket to get a better look. "Look, guys. We've got fruit now. So nobody can say I never buy anything healthy. At the very least, you have to stay for dinner. I made mac and cheese."
Dennis opened his mouth to turn down the invitation, but Amelia spoke first.
"Thank you so much, but we already ate."
Robby nodded, though he clearly wasn't ready to let the conversation end that fast. "Okay, then how about a soda?"
Amelia looked up at her dad, waiting for him to decide for both of them. Dennis took the opening; if he was being honest with himself, he'd spent the last few minutes looking for a polite way to escape back to the quiet of his own apartment.
"We're actually about to start our nighttime routine."
Robby blinked. "Nighttime routine?"
"Yeah. Amelia usually starts getting ready for bed early."
For a few seconds nobody said anything. Robby glanced at the kitchen clock, as if expecting to find out something had gone wrong with the time.
"It's only six."
Dennis didn't know how to explain that, for him, six in the evening wasn't early. It was exactly the moment his day started winding down: dinner already done, homework finished, laundry folded, and Amelia heading toward a calm, quiet night.
He also wasn't sure how to explain his whole schedule to a man who had a ferret running loose through his apartment and a kid wearing pillows as armor. So he just smiled.
"Some other time."
Robby seemed to finally accept he wasn't going to win this one.
"All right, fair enough. But the invitation stands. Come by whenever you want."
"We'll keep that in mind." Dennis gave a polite nod and smile. "Good night, Robby."
Amelia said a shy goodbye to Oliver, and he promised to show her his new Minecraft world the next day. Hazel waved from the floor while Pickles settled into his cage, and Florence kept gathering her clothes, looking thoroughly unimpressed with life.
"Good night, Dennis. See you around."
When the door of 4C finally closed behind them, Dennis let out a sigh. Amelia gave her dad a huge smile, clearly hoping he felt the same way she did.
"I like them," the girl admitted sweetly, kicking off her shoes and setting them on the shelf by the entrance.
"They're... interesting." Honestly, he had no idea how to put it into words without sounding like he was judging the wonderfully chaotic family. "Bath time, sweetheart."
Amelia didn't even argue. She skipped off to the bathroom, ready to keep following the schedule already wired into her brain.
That night, Dennis Whitaker closed his apartment door, completely convinced his new neighbors were going to be a headache.
Two years later, he'd be building a family with Michael Robinavitch.