Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

To say Eret was broke was an understatement.

She was so deep in debt that her bank had sent her three warnings about her overdraft, which had hit its limit two months ago. If she could muster up the will to look at her account through her online app, all she’d see would be red numbers but she couldn't afford a phone bill and there wasn't any wifi in the park so she usually didn't glance near it.

Essentially, Eret was penniless. They couldn't take money out of their maxxed account and they couldn't apply for any credit because their score was in the dirt and they had no home address. That was broke on an entirely different level. She couldn’t even afford dollar ramen – mostly because the park bench she'd claimed didn’t have any cheap convenience stores around for miles. (The closest one had a prissy manager who'd banned them after thinking Eret had stolen some gum. They had, yeah, but it was only a pack of gum so they didn’t understand all the fuss.)

These days, no one threw cents at that one weird person sitting on the benches.

“So, Miss… Alastair?” The interviewer’s voice had already wavered and her face had scrunched. Eret was already writing this agency off as a lost cause.

She’d thought America was the land of the free, but the second her name came up, everyone started shooting her weird looks. It was in times like these where Eret truly cursed her father for being unable to think of a non-gendered name when she’d been dumped in his lap. Even if he’d been crying over his freshly dead girlfriend, couldn’t he have exercised a small portion of his brain and named her something nice and cute? Allie was a girly name, and sure, Alastair could be shortened to that, but when a lanky, tall, androgynous person was called Alastair, they obviously had to be a guy. That didn't go very well for them when they were feeling feminine. Recently, Eret's identity had somewhat settled into a fem-leaning plateau.

Currently, Eret was trying to get a job. Unfortunately, like most things in her life, getting a job wasn't as easy as it sounded. This was her ninth agency this week. Most of the others hadn’t even let her sit through an interview, having turned her away before she realised that perhaps the public bathroom soap didn’t smell as nice as she thought it did.

After cleaning up her act a bit (see: furiously sampling the perfume products in the local corporate store) and having bought a nice, clean shirt from the dollarstore with what few cents she’d scraped up off the sidewalks, she was back at it. However, trying to get a job when one was both banking red and sunburnt red because they couldn’t afford sunscreen was both hellish and nigh impossible.

“It says here that you have some experience in the…” the lady hesitated, leaving Eret to stew over what past job was trashy enough for this lady to call it quits. Maybe it would be the week or two of her being a line cook? Or, perhaps her short three-week stint as a McDonalds cashier three years ago was causing issues. It wasn’t like the takeout had burnt down like the line restaurant had; the dump of a city it was in just hadn’t had enough McDonalds lovers. That, and the building it had been in had been crumbling around them, but that was just semantics.  “Hm, observing industry.”

Running on half an hour of sleep and feeling sort of like a pickle at how much sweat was rolling down her back, Eret quite literally could not tell which job the interviewer was talking about. Eret had a tendency to go through jobs quicker than a hungry swarm of seagulls could go through a handful of fries.

What had possessed her to come out to America for school was a mystery.

She hated herself for doing this. Of course, she’d flunked out of university on the fifth week – that had probably sealed her fate with whatever education gods that had it against her.

Rather optimistically, Eret liked to think that she’d been fucked from the beginning.

Her mother had died giving birth to her and her father had never really known how to raise a child and grieve at the same time. He couldn’t even name a kid, nevermind cut its hair and send it to school. When she was ten, she’d been put in the custody of her maternal grandparents after her father gave up on her and on life in their small London apartment. Her mother’s parents had never been in her life before that, and the visceral hatred they harboured for her had made it very clear why they’d never showed up at Christmas time.

But, past trauma aside, Eret had dutifully slogged through high school and had picked up a passion for maths somewhere along the way. Her grandparents had probably agreed to her delusions so that this would happen – having helped ship her off to America so that she could die cold and alone on the streets after having realised that she really didn’t like maths. Astrophysics was the type of thing a genius or a rich daddy’s boy went into; it was not barrel-scraping English kid territory.

Things had spiralled so horrifically at one point that she’d ended up in Cali, writhing amongst the rest of the dirt. Whichever job agency she went to, usually pleading but sometimes delusionally overconfident, turned her away at the door.

This one was actually the first to have let her in in a few weeks. It was a chipper but small agency, located around fifty minutes from the park where she was staying. She hadn’t read the name of the place, because she’d been too nervous and everything had been a bit squiggly even when she squinted, but the receptionist had actually smiled at Eret, so the place couldn’t have been that bad.

The interviewer, something-ver… Danver? Salsver?, had seemed quite nice as well. She’d nodded at Eret in a way that wasn’t too dismissive and had waved her into her office. Then Eret had pushed over her CV (pitifully scribbled out on some paper she’d slipped from the library nine blocks over) and the lady had read her name. It was probably going to go downhill from there, she reckoned.

Someone cleared their throat. Eret blinked up from the glass of water she’d stuck her chin into and found the woman tapping a navy pen against her keyboard, thankfully not looking at her as she squinted through Eret’s resume. The pen’s colour reminded her of the crappy playstation controller she had sitting in a storage bin somewhere near her old university. It had a perfectly good, albeit scratched up, ps3 to go with the knock-off controller. Huh. That bin would probably be sold off soon if she didn’t get a payment in on it, or at least retrieve her stuff.

“Your graveyard shift was the longest job you’ve held?”

Oh. Oh, Eret did not like that tone. That tone meant she was about to get kicked out and told to never come back, and she really, really needed a job. Any job would do. Anything.

“Everything else was wrong time, wrong place,” she tried to salvage the situation. “My food industry placements were cut short by me moving. I have their contacts – they could provide a reference.”

Eret wasn’t sure what was worse; telling the woman she was half to blame for her other jobs falling through or telling her to call up one of the bosses of a restaurant she’d nearly put into bankruptcy after having accidentally started a small fire that consumed one very large, very expensive grill that apparently the place couldn’t function without. The place had closed down a few days later and she hadn’t been paid for her long week of grueling overtime. If she had the energy, she would’ve been angry about it, but looking back, she was just thankful her boss hadn’t sent her to jail over the head of it all.

“Yes, you’re quite well travelled, aren’t you?” The interviewer brushed over the topic with an air of naivety that had Eret struggling not to choke on her free water. How the hell had she pulled that one off? “Born in the UK and lived in Dubai for a few years before coming here. I’m sure you have a lot of stories to share.”

She’d only been to Dubai because her grandparents lived there. They had money. Eret had briefly gotten a job as an assistant in a daycare there, before the daycare had closed down. Something about a rat infestation.

“Yeah,” she laughed, pinching herself. Either this woman was glossing over everything she’d ever done wrong in her life or this was a dream. Her sleep paralysis hallucinations had never been this vivid before…

“I have a client looking for a part-time chef,” the interviewer noted. Her easy tone had Eret’s heart jackrabbiting in her chest. Was this woman actually giving her a chance? “Although, there’s a lot more to the job and it’s quite full-on.”

Part-time chef? Full-on? They were in California. Any chef was sure to be paid well. Oh, Eret could see the dollar signs sparkling in front of her already.

“I wouldn’t mind something intense,” she piped up, hoping that the woman would say more without further prompting. Eret never knew what to say when it came down to the wire. She’d lost a telecoms job over the head of her going nonverbal half-way through a phone call with some secret inspector. It had been rather unfair – the man had been nearly shouting down the phone at her, and she sure hadn’t been trained for that.

“Oh?” The interviewer looked up at her and blinked, as though she’d forgotten Eret was there. Her heart stalled out at the look. No… No, she’d been so close— “Sure, let me get the details up.”

Eret wasn’t sure she could breathe. She did her best not to vibrate in the seat as the lady pulled up a word document on her very clean monitor. It was a small fact file with a few colour-coded boxes. That was nice. Eret liked colour coding.

“Right,” the lady started. “The client’s looking for someone to be a live-in house manager. Kind of like a nanny for their two sons, as they have a busy job that keeps them out and about. They’re wanting someone who can cook proficiently for a group, clean to an expected standard and take their dogs on walks whilst looking after the kids.”

The world was spinning. Eret clutched the arms of her chair and tried to breathe through it. Oh, this was great. A house, easy money and something to feed that bit of her brain that itched to sniff some bleach.

“You’re not allergic to children, are you?” The interviewer giggled. Her voice suggested she meant well. Eret found herself quite liking this woman.

“No, no, of course not,” she said, then felt that sounded very weird. “My family had me babysitting constantly. I used to look after our neighbours’ kids when they went on dates and never got any complaints. They loved me.”

This was, of course, all lies. Eret had never looked after a young child. Everywhere she had ever lived was either too shabby or too uppity for couples with young kids. To top that off, she was the sole child in her family and she would likely be the last. Her grandparents had hinged everything on their mother and when she had died… well, they hadn’t shifted their hopes onto Eret. It was kinda crazy to think how she’d be the last in a bloodline, sometimes, but then she remembered that it was probably a good thing that she was the last of the Brines.

“Oh, brilliant!” The lady was beaming at her. “The pay’s a little low for the hours, but it does include room, which is quite rare for where the client lives. It’s a nice neighbourhood. Shall I put you down for an interview? Fair warning, the client is quite busy, so you might be waiting a while. And, if you were to get it, you’d have to start immediately. Is that alright?”

How many people these days would willingly take on a job where they were doing the job of three people? Eret was getting this job. She had to.

She literally had no other options.

“That’s no problem. Please, sign me up,” she said. The interviewer nodded along, very happily, and went through a few other jobs while they waited. Apparently, the client only took calls at certain times? What kind of rich snob had posted this job? Eret was sure it was someone with unreasonable expectations, for them to be asking one person to do three full jobs, but then, if they were really mean, Eret could always just take over one of their rooms and call Squatter’s Law, like she’d seen that one old lady on the news do. If she hunkered down well enough, they’d need a court notice to evict her.

Not that Eret’s immediate plan was to squat and do no work. That was the last resort, if she didn’t have enough money saved to move out and the boss was an absolute jerk. Broke or not, Eret had to uphold some sort of standard for herself.

It wasn’t like anyone else would.

After a few more job options (none as favourable as the instant roof over her head but still some decent options), the interviewer ushered her into the small waiting room to call her client. Eret stood ominously in the empty room for a solid minute before shambling herself over to the bathroom, where she caught sight of her simultaneously sunburnt and pallid face and the inch-deep eyebags that were threatening to swallow up her eyes. She was a wreck. Although, in her defense, the red-tiled bathroom wasn’t doing her any favours.

Her insomnia was bad, these days. Mostly because she could never be sure if it was safe to sleep. Her body being in constant fight-or-flight meant that when she did find a good spot to nap in, she was often too keyed up to even close her eyes. When she did manage to fall asleep, her sleep paralysis made her feel like she was either being touched or suffocated, or both, and usually had her waking up in a right state. She’d sweated her way through more t-shirts than she could count that way.

Splashing her face in the too-low sink, she lost her focus in the swirl of the tapwater going down the drain. She only snapped back to reality when bits of her sunburn started flaking away. When she looked back up at herself, fearing the worst, Eret was relieved to find that she actually just looked pale now, with most of her reddened, burnt skin having been old enough that her momentary scrubbing had eviscerated it.

The bathroom had free pads and mints sitting in an open box. She slipped a few of the blue plastic baggies were the size of her thumb and labelled ‘mints’ into the inner pocket of her shorts that housed her phone. Though Eret didn’t really believe that they were mints until she decided to risk popping one onto her tongue. The taste of peppermint flooded her mouth and promptly wiped away any doubts. Oh, yeah, that was a lot.

Casual lingering done, she made sure to pat her face dry with the paper towels before re-entering the tiny waiting room. When she emerged from the bathroom, the receptionist – who had a perfect seat between the door and the waiting room – looked over and gestured to the singular office where the lady was. Eret took that as a sign and floated over, suddenly very scared.

“Come in, Alastair,” the lady was standing at her desk, phone clutched in her hand. “Very good news. My client is willing to interview you today, if you’re available?”

Eret practically leapt into her office. “Yes, well… er, I don’t have a car.”

The lady was beaming, she brought the phone up to her face and excitedly started telling the person on the other end that they’d be up soon. When she hung up after a seemingly pleasant conversation, she hurried over to Eret and grabbed her coat from the stand in the corner of the room. “I’ll drive you up, it’s the least I could do. This client has been waiting for someone for a long time – I’m so glad you’re willing to take the job on.”

Ah. Eret had the feeling this job was going to be terrible if the agency boss herself was throwing herself at their feet to get them there. That, or this lady was just disproportionately happy at someone trying for a job through them… which, kind of made sense. Especially considering how small the agency seemed, it didn’t look like this place seen much foot-traffic.

“Oh, uh, thank you.”

One hour and thirty minutes later found Eret standing outside the nicest house she’d ever seen. The front was purely made up of sleek glass windows, three floors of pure glass and black concrete and a spiralling staircase that she could see all the way from the start of the long driveway. The place had a garage and a nice lawn and similarly neat and tidy neighbouring houses.

Instantly, Eret knew she was out of her paygrade.

“This is the house,” the interviewer lady said, she’d chattered the whole drive over and hadn’t stopped smiling, even when Eret had cut her beeline to her car in half to say that she needed the toilet.

Thankfully, the receptionist hadn’t ratted her out for going into the little room twice in ten minutes, and no one seemed any wiser when Eret returned from having the fastest scrub down in her life. She’d covered all the important parts in the coconut-scented handsoap and had felt particularly thankful that her new white shirt wasn’t stained at the pits.

Her black shorts even fit the ensemble quite nicely – it was just starting into the warm months, so hopefully a prospective employee showing up in shorts and tattered trainers wasn’t too unappealing. “Would you like some perfume before you go in?”

Blanching but not about to turn down a hopeful boost to her reputation, Eret agreed. The lady pulled a bodyspray out of her pink handbag and spritzed it just about everywhere. Eret thanked her and got out, watching her ride scoot out of the long driveway and disappear down the road. It smelled like cotton candy.

Popping another bathroom mint into her mouth, Eret grabbed her wits from the ground and yanked them tight around her skull. She needed this job so badly that she couldn’t afford to be caught looking stupid. Sauntering over to the door with a hopefully more confident look than she was currently feeling, she knocked on the door.

A woman in her mid-forties, maybe early-fifties, opened it. She had long, curly hair that was mostly brown but had a few strands of grey throughout it. Slim and dressed in a neat suit (it was the whole shebang: a tight blazer and a firm skirt) that showed off her good figure. Eret felt very meek in front of her. She was the picture of intimidation. The only thing that broke that mirage were the fluffy sheep slippers on her feet.

Eret felt ill. She was so fucked. This woman probably made more money a month than she had ever seen in her life.

“Hi, uhm, hello,” she managed.

The woman smiled at her. “You must be Alastair Brine,” and then, the lady was opening the door wide for her. “Please, come in.”

How she’d gotten past the initial test of front door inspection, Eret didn’t know. Quite frankly, she was too scared to stand about too long in case the lady took one look at her and deemed her too dirty before booting her out.

She stepped into the house. The hallway was very long and the floor was made up of shiny white tiles that seemed like marble. It was probably marble. There was a spiky rug by the door that she cleaned her feet on, despite knowing she wasn’t particularly muddy or anything. It had been dry for the past few days.

Thankfully, despite the shoe rack tucked into the corner, the lady did not ask them to take off their shoes. That was good, because Eret didn’t have any socks and she was not walking about barefoot in this place. She was far too sweaty for that and the last thing she wanted to do was leave footprints all over this nice floor.

The house smelt like lavender. There was a diffuser sitting atop the rectangular wooden shoe rack. It was slowly puffing out little clouds of incense.

“I’m Puffy Captain,” the woman introduced herself. She held out her hand for a shake and Eret put all her muscles into a good, firm one. At least the woman seemed half-impressed. “This is my house – I posted the job. I take it you read the details before coming over?”

“Yes,” Eret nodded. “A live-in nanny that covers all the housework and cooking.”

“I suppose those are the basics, yes. Don't forget to walk the dogs, if you have time,” Puffy added, smiling gently. She seemed nice enough, but then, all Eret knew about her was her name. It was too soon to judge.

“Of course,” she agreed. The woman asked for her resume and Eret handed off the paper, biting her cheek as the lady pulled out her glasses to read it. From the gold rim of her specs, this lady definitely had money. As if the sheer size of her house hadn’t been suggestive enough.

What was she, Eret wondered – lady CEOs were popular, these days.

Puffy took a few moments to read her three pages of just about everything Eret could fit into the space. As she read, she gestured for Eret to follow and led them further into the house, skipping past a few doors and going right to where the long hallway opened up into a humongous kitchen. It was all light marble, with an island in the center bigger than the interview lady’s car. Posh black barstools sat around the island, which proudly showed off a platter of cheese and chopped vegetables, alongside a large fruitbowl that was filled with apples and bananas. Along the far left wall was a never-ending counter that finished to the left in a giant black, double-doored fridge. It had an ice-dispenser in the front and was covered with drawn pictures, some better than others, which were pinned up with childish magnets of looney tunes characters and a few cartoony fruits.

On the right side of the room, a flight of stairs vanished upwards, the glass railing shimmering in the beaming sunlight that gleamed through the all-glass wall. The spiral staircase they'd seen from the front of the house must’ve been for the second to third floors. Meanwhile, the glass wall had a few beams of black metal through it that supported a double doored enteance out into the garden. It was positioned a little bit off center from where the hallway door opened up into the room.

In all, the kitchen looked like a million dollars had been spent on it. The cooker gleamed, the fridge was wider than they were tall and everything seemed to sparkle.

Puffy directed them to a barstool, where they nervously sat and tried not to stare as the woman finished reading her resume. When her head lifted and she pocketed her glasses in the top pocket of her very clean, very expensive looking suit blazer, Eret felt a little faint.

“Well, you certainly have quite a bit of experience for being so young. Would you like the house tour or a run-down of your responsibilities first?”

Blanking out, Eret gaped at the woman. “I- Sorry, does this mean I’ve got the job?”

“Yes,” Puffy gave an easy nod. She was smiling again, and it seemed quite soft. “You’ve been the only one to apply in the six months I’ve had it up. Plus, I can tell what people are like from a glance. You’ll be perfect here.”

Quite taken aback, both by the abrupt admission that Eret had somehow impossibly been the only person to apply and that this lady saw herself as a perfect judge of character, Eret wasted a few moments trying to process.

“Oh,” she said. Then, it hit her.

After months of searching, months of living in parks and in alleys and struggling to get by, Eret had a job.

Eret had a job.

“Oh my gosh,” she unintentionally slipped from the barstool but played it off as her standing to give a very formal but odd bow. “Thank you so much, this really means a lot to me. Thank you, Mrs Captain.”

“Ah, just call me Puffy, and you’re very welcome, Alastair,” the older woman smiled. She had an odd twinkle in her brown eyes that didn’t even waver when Eret accidentally happy stimmed right in front of her, hands flapping in her uncontrolled excitement. The moment Eret realised what she’d done, she clutched her hands tightly in front of her and cleared her throat, dragging in a deep breath to calm herself down. Once, she’d stimmed in front of an ex-boss and he’d fired her for being ‘too sketchy’. That had been a hard day.

However, Puffy didn’t seem to mind. She was smiling serenely at her, completely unbothered.

Getting a grip of herself, Eret got her bearings. “Um, just Eret, please. If that’s no trouble?”

“Eret?” Puffy repeated, then nodded. “Of course, dear. Is there anything else I should know that wasn’t on your CV? Pronouns, gender, disabilities? I won’t fire you for anything like that, but I do want to know if you’ll be living under my roof.”

Having grown pensive at the woman’s question, Eret shook her head. “No, that’s all.” Her new boss didn’t need to know about her insomnia and paralysis – both of which would hopefully lessen now that Eret would actually get to sleep indoors, in a locked place at night.

“Right,” Puffy moved on. “I’ll give you the run-down first.”

Eret perked her ears and listened well.

“You’ll be the house manager, while working here,” Puffy started. “That means, you’ll do the grocery shop and buy anything that’s needed, whilst keeping within the budget set. We have a shopping list that the last maid left. It outlines everything you’ll need.”

Grabbing a few papers from the kitchen island, Puffy handed her a long list. It was written in blue pen and highlighted with three different colours, with a key for the highlighting along the side. Along the top, it said: Shopping List. Very succinct, Eret thought.

“This is the full shop. I suggest you go shopping once a week for groceries, with the blue highlights being things you’ll need to buy each week. The yellow is bi-weekly and pink is every three weeks or more.” Puffy pointed to the key as though Eret hadn’t seen it, which admittedly helped her track the woman’s words. “There’s a specific bank card for the groceries, which covers the food and any extras that might be needed for house upkeep, like new towels or washing liquids and things like that. I put an extra few hundred in it each week, but the bill should usually come out around the same. We’re fussy in this house about brands, so if you can’t get something, see the alternatives listed, or get it the next week. Is that alright so far?”

Eret nodded. “Yes. I can stick to the budget, Mrs Puffy.”

“Just Puffy,” the woman smiled. “I have two sons, Foolish—”

Oh god, Eret hoped that was a nickname. If not, it seemed her father was tied for worst namer to ever name their child.

“And Dream.”

Eret really hoped those were nicknames.

Still, she nodded along. Puffy must’ve had big lungs, because it felt like she barely paused to breathe.

“Foolish isn’t too fussy, but Dream has ARFID and has a list of safe foods that he can eat. You need to stick to those foods, or else he won’t eat anything.”

“ARFID?” Eret echoed, “Like, Avoidant Restrictive Food…”

“Intake Disorder, yes,” Puffy nodded. She handed Eret another list. This one was titled; Dream’s safe foods. There was a long list, though most of them seemed to be random things, like tapioca. Thankfully, he liked pasta, but only the green type. Wait… if she was feeding two young kids, she would have to come up with things other than pasta. Stir-fries used to be her second go-to, but did kids even eat stuff like that? Soy sauce wasn’t even on Dream’s safe list, though, there was a Dream’s NOT safe foods on the back of the page, and it didn’t list soy sauce.

As if a mind reader, Puffy added, “If there’s something not on either list, I’d suggest asking him about it directly. He usually brings friends over too, but he knows to let you know in advance. I’ll need your phone number and the kids will too, in case they need to call you.”

“Right,” Eret nodded. Rich kids got phones when they were young, it seemed.

“Dream’s still at school,” Puffy added. “He’ll be back around four, getting off the bus. He usually brings home someone to hang out with. My other son, Foolish, is upstairs now. His days aren’t as long and he’ll be home more often, but he’ll probably stay out of your way. They’re both good kids.”

Humming in agreement, Eret tried to digest everything that was being thrown at her. Dream was older, it seemed, whilst Foolish was younger and probably got out of school sooner. So, Foolish was possibly around pre-school age, with Dream in kindergarten or higher? Oh, Eret hoped they were as good as their mother claimed.

“My job keeps me away for three to four days a week,” Puffy continued, “So you won’t have to worry about me on those days, but you’ll be cooking for the boys and yourself, then. You only have to cook dinner, since you’ve got so much else to do. Cereal’s big in this house and the boys usually have sandwiches at school for lunch, or here. Foolish is usually home by then, but he can make his own sandwiches. Don’t let him guilt you.”

Her new boss expected her to let a child make himself lunch? Eret could already taste the nightmares that would happen if the kid cut himself with a knife, or something. She could make him sandwiches.

“Dream makes his own packed lunches for school,” Puffy noted. “Though, he usually buys the canteen stuff. They do sandwiches in their deli.”

“Uh-huh,” Eret felt almost like a nodding parrot as she followed Puffy around the kitchen. The woman handed her a detailed layout of the fridge that the former maid had made, and opened the huge thing to show off rows of glass containers and plastic racks. Everything was neatly sorted and had its own space.

She was in heaven.

“I don’t expect you to keep the exact layout,” Puffy was saying, “But I’d appreciate it if you tried to keep most of it. We’re a bit resistant to change when it comes to our food.”

Oh. Great.

“Is there a meal plan left from the previous maid?” Eret asked in a lull between Puffy showing her how the dishwasher and ovens worked. Apparently, the past maid had fried the dishwasher the first time she’d used it.

“No,” Puffy said, hallway through leading her to a door at the end of the kitchen counters. It opened into a large cupboard room, which housed a washing machine and a tumble dryer, alongside a few shelves of dog food and other bits and bobs, like a very furry brush that was probably for the dogs she hadn’t yet seen. “The past maid never cooked. It’s always been me but with my job pulling me away more often, we tend to eat more takeout than we should. Anything’s up for grabs, Eret. Just try to stay healthy, most of the time. Takeout once a week is good, but unless something happens, try to keep it to a minimum. You can add whatever you need to the grocery list for the extra meals. Keep all the grocery receipts and tell me if the budget is iffy. Also, don’t be afraid to feed yourself – the fridge is big, we can spare a few eggs for you to have a nice breakfast. You’re the one who’ll be doing most of the work in the house anyways, so don’t skirt meals, okay?”

Entirely unprepared for the motherly lecture she’d just received, Eret spluttered. “I- uh, sure. Yeah, I won’t. Thank you, Puffy.”

Seeming pleased at her response, Puffy went on to talk about the dogs – “Bentley needs brushed a few times a day, preferably twice in the morning and twice at night to keep his shedding to a minimum. He’s good for baths, but Athena gets a bit rowdy. Here’s a schedule for keeping them right. If they go and roll in mud or need a trim, just take them down to the dog grooming place listed on it.” – and then her cleaning duties, which were just as to be expected. There was three floors of rooms, though technically the cellar made a fourth but it had nothing but wine and could get a little dusty (Puffy’s words, not hers). Three rooms were bedrooms, with a fourth soon to be Eret’s, with two reserved for guests or Dream’s friends who sometimes stayed overnight, and each boy had a gaming room whilst Puffy had a study. There was also a library, she was told, in the attic, which wasn’t counted amongst the floors, so there was technically five different levels to the very big house.

“You’ll do fine,” Puffy said, having looked down at her watch and declared that she needed to go. Eret hadn’t gotten that house tour yet, but she was sure she could navigate her way around the place. There was even a floor plan amongst all the pages Puffy had given her, alongside directions to her room. “Dream should be back soon, but you can text me if anything goes wrong. One of the boys can drive you to the store for groceries. Actually, make Foolish take you. Dream's a learner, he shouldn't be out without his instructor. He can give you a house tour, too. Have a nice day, Eret.”

“You too, Puffy,” she waved the woman away and only after her car had pulled out of the driveway did Eret wonder how a child would be driving her to the shops. Maybe she'd imagined the woman saying that?

She slid back into the kitchen after having closed the door for Puffy and startled. There was a tall, muscular man rifling through the fridge. His back muscles stood firm against his slim black shirt. When he turned around, he brought a handsomely chiselled face with him.

“Oh, you must be the new maid,” he grinned. Eret felt her heart yammer at the sight. “Nice to meet you. I’m Foolish.”

This was meant to be the preschooler? Screw that, he could definitely make his own sandwiches.

“Hi,” she said, realising very abruptly that she hadn’t asked Puffy about the ages of her sons. “I’m Eret.”

Chapter Text

Foolish was actually really nice. He puttered about the kitchen like he owned it (because he did) and made himself a behemoth of a sandwich that was packed with so many things Eret didn’t think he could eat it whole. Other than that, he hadn’t spoken to her in the last five minutes, which made him nice because Eret’s head was two seconds away from fizzling to dust. The smell of lavender was stuck in her nose from her short walk through the hall and the house seemed simultaneously too hot yet too cold.

She was on the verge of climbing that mountain called overstimulated, she knew. So, Eret tried to stick her head into the instruction pages she’d been left, looking over the very long shopping list. There was a lot of things to get. Puffy had offhandedly mentioned that the nearest store was a thirty minute drive from the house, which meant it was like a fifty minute walk or more. She really needed a lift down if she wanted to get everything in one trip.

“Dad’s goin’ on a three-day business trip,” the fully grown man said, having pulled himself up to sit on the counter. His words jolted her back to life, though it was a few seconds before she understood what he was saying. Eret had sort of collapsed into her barstool from before as she flicked through all her pages. “I dunno if she told you.”

Two sentences in from the guy and she blue-screened. Puffy had never mentioned a father, but of course it made sense. Eret would just have to remember to meal plan for a family of four... That wasn’t too bad. If the father was away, then that left three.

Foolish was looking at her. She blinked and tried to stir some life into her face. “So, just you guys and your mom for dinner?”

He snickered and licked up a glob of ranch from where it had dripped onto his fingers. Despite the size of his sandwich rivalling that of a brick, he was halfway through it already. “Puffy is dad. It’s just us three.”

“Oh,” Eret felt her cheeks heat up. Oh, that was awkward. So, three would be the most people she’d be cooking for. Well, she supposed she did have to feed herself too. Four people, then. Puffy had seemed very adamant that she not skip meals. Eret did not intend to, but it was a nice thing to say. “Ah, okay.”

Foolish’s gaze felt very heavy as he watched her. Eret was so concentrated on him watching her that her vision tipped out of focus and the words in front of her turned into blobs.

Suddenly, the sink’s tap roared to life. Flinching, she looked up to see Foolish washing his hands. He dried them on a towel that hung on the cooker’s handle. He wasn’t looking at her, so he thankfully hadn’t seen her nearly fall out of the stool.

When he did look up and seen her staring, he offered a wide grin. “You need a house tour?”

“Um, yeah,” she pushed all her pages into a neat stack and hoped that they wouldn’t all vanish if she left them on the island.

“I can give you a lift down to the shops, too,” he said. “I heard dad talking about it. Can you not drive?”

“Uh, thanks.” She fidgeted as he showed her the drawer where they kept the house keys, feeling a little overwhelmed as he handed her a keyring with all the essential ones. One for the front door, one for the back, one for the gate at the side of the house and two for the garage. She shoved them into her pocket, beside another mint she’d taken for keepsies. “Yeah, I don’t have a license.”

Eret doubted she was fit to drive. She got very nervous in any moving vehicle. On the few long flights she’d been on in her life, the one to America had been the most hellish. At one point, she was sure the flight attendants had thought she was having a panic attack, because they’d offered her a paper bag to breathe into and complementary snacks. The whole trip had been made worse by the storm they’d flown through. She supposed there’d been a lot of people panicking on that flight.

“Dream’s waiting to get his license. It’s easier if you’re over eighteen, but for a while I was sure he’d do the whole test anyways.” Foolish chuckled, talking absently about his brother as he showed her through the rooms on the first floor. There was an indoors cinema that was a good size and had a couple couches and beanbags inside, a small but functional gym and a room solely for the dogs to sleep and play in. Judging from the very large bed, they had a very big dog.

“Bentley’s a saint bernard,” Foolish said when he caught her frowning at the bed. Oh, St Bernard’s grew big, didn’t they? She hoped the dog liked her. “And Athena’s a husky.”

Two very demanding dog breeds.

Foolish grinned at her like he knew what she was thinking. “They’re being walked by the dog walker now. He takes them out three times a week because even with us taking them out, they’re still a bit energetic.”

Oh, well, at least Eret didn’t always have to worry about the dogs. Small mercies. She was sure she could just let them outside for most of the day and they’d be fine. Right?

“Um,” she murmured as Foolish had finished showing her the living room (three words: eighty inch TV) and the dining room (it could sit twenty people) and was in the process of leading the charge up the stairs. She was too hesitant to touch the glass rail.

He hadn’t shown her the garage, instead just having opened a door along the hallway and telling her that the garage was on the other side of that mini-hallway. An odd design, Eret thought but didn’t mention it.

“How old are you and your brother?”

“I’m twenty-four and Dream’s seventeen. He’s in high school while I’m doing an engineering course at the local college.”

Eret gawked at the man’s back. He was a year older than her and was doing an engineering course? His brother, who she’d initially thought to be older, was the youngest. Okay… Okay, at least they weren’t toddlers. She didn’t want to change any diapers. And it was looking like she would never have to.

This was good. Them being older than anticipated meant she could feed them the weird food she’d picked up between her cooking jobs and they wouldn’t have a tantrum. All she had to do was make sure Dream could eat the things.

Puffy hadn’t told her how many hours she was expected to work, but the job listing had made it out to be a very full-time job. She should probably get the groceries whilst Foolish was being nice and then come back and make a cleaning plan. From what she’d seen of the house so far, it was clean enough that it wouldn’t need hoovered or dusted today. Maybe she should start in the kitchen and move outwards?

They stepped up onto the second floor, noting how the landing seemed to be quite large. The floor was a chilled wood, dark and bold. There was a room directly beside the stairs, before the landing stretched on and the rest of the rooms flanked the hall, breaking in the middle to have a small sitting area around the showy spiral staircase.

“There’s three guest beds,” Foolish explained, opening the first door to the room beside the stairs. “You can pick what one you want, dad probably put you in this room but if you don’t like it, feel free to switch. Everyone sleeps on this floor – it’s just bedrooms. Upstairs has the study and game rooms.”

“There’s an ensuite,” she blinked, peering into the room to see the door to the bathroom ajar. This room beside the stairs was bigger than any other bedroom Eret had ever slept in, with a nice double bed pushed up against the wall and a big desk with plenty of room for a monitor on it. There was plenty of space, and room for a large circular rug that was a dull yellow but sat nicely with the grey painted walls. One wall entirely was glass, though there were long blinds that could slip over it for privacy. The nearest neighbours were the span of a few houses away, with a thick brush of trees providing a barrier alongside the fencing. It was a small but spaced out neighbourhood.

“Yeah, every room has one,” Foolish said. She stepped into the room and checked out the bathroom. White tiles surrounded the room, with it being built over a bit where the wall was not glass. There was a nice toilet, a high sink that she didn’t need to stoop to reach, and a glimmering shower in the corner. It was bigger than what she’d expected. When comparing this room to what she knew, it was bigger than every single one. The apartment she’d left in London when she was ten, her grandparent’s house (where she’d been shoved into the smallest room regardless), her university dorm before they’d told her to leave. All of those were dwarfed by this room. There was a mirror over the sink that leered down at her.

What are you doing here? It asked.

Eret stared back and shrugged. She didn’t know.

Turning to leave, she found Foolish leaning in the room’s doorway, watching her. He was smiling. Eret liked Foolish – he wasn’t too loud and he walked with an excited jump in his step. He hadn’t tried to touch her like most other guys, albeit those encounters had been on the streets. That put him high up on the list of men she knew. Which was very few. But, still.

“There’s still two others to see, y’know,” he smirked. Eret felt quite at ease in this room, but followed him out nonetheless.

There was another guest room right beside the first, which was the beginning of the hallway. The walls were blue and the bed had pink sheets. A stark contrast from the white sheets in the prior room.

“Technoblade stays here when he comes over,” Foolish said, which instantly ruled out that room as a plausible guest room for her. She didn’t want to steal some kid’s room. He’d even tacked up a few posters on the walls. It was hardly a guest bedroom, at that point.

Next, was Dream’s room. Foolish gave her a warning and she didn’t heed it. Inside was a tall bunk bed with a desk underneath instead of a second mattress. The room was painted in a stark, leafy shade of green, with his closet spilling out into the room and mixing with stuffed toys, the abandoned remains of a game of monopoly and a lot more clothes, with sweetie wrappers and empty bottles littered all over the room. The only neat thing in the room were his shelves, which seemed quite dusty but proudly displayed various figurines from all sorts of games.

It looked like a bomb had went off, it was called; teenage boy.

Yeah, this was top priority. The kid was sooner going to fall over his clothes and break his neck than get over to his bed.

“To be fair, him and Techno usually stay up in the games room.”

“I can see why,” she said, slightly despairing. Then, she realised what she’d said and covered her mouth, looking over to the man with wide eyes.

Foolish laughed at her. “Don’t look so worried. You can speak your mind, Eret. So long as you don’t go around calling us names, I don’t care what you say.”

Relieved at his carefree nature, Eret tried to muster up the words to apologise and found her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Oh, oh no, no, no, no, this was not the time for that – she was not going nonverbal during a house tour. It had been a small scare, that was all, she wasn’t in danger, she was fine, it was fine…

Thankfully, Foolish didn’t seem to notice her internal battle. He sauntered away from his brother’s room and showed her another guest bedroom. This one had cream walls and a white and red bedspread. It had nothing on the walls, but seemed to her to be far too used to be a simple guest room. She didn’t linger long and Foolish was more than happy to show her his room, opening the door to show off a room with navy blue walls and a very tidy disposition. His closet was actually closed, and his floor was clear to show off a One Piece themed rug. His double bed had dark covers, and the blinds were partially pulled.

Moving on, Puffy’s room was the largest of all. It was obviously the master bedroom, with a wall-to-wall closet that was all mirror. It smelt like cinnamon and her white bedspread was rimmed with golden thread. Her ensuite was the largest.

At the end of the hall was a bathroom for everyone, despite there being an ensuite in every room. It had a sunken hot-tub bath that looked very interesting. Foolish must’ve seen her looking at it, because he indulgently turned on the lights along the side of it. It flashed in a myriad of colours. She was slowly unsticking her tongue, but her throat felt a bit tight, so she was thankful Foolish had started talking more to himself than to her. He wasn’t expecting a response.

There was another room. The layout of this floor felt rather disjointed, almost smaller than the downstairs, but then Eret recalled the slightly odd shapes of the houses and figured that maybe the ground floor was larger on purpose. In the extra room was a sauna. She took one look at it and blanked out. Who the hell had a sauna in their house? Wasn’t that a basement thing?

Foolish didn’t talk too much about it. They went upstairs and they followed the stairwell all the way up into the attic, where he gave her a quick tour of the very big library (which apparently she could read any book in!). The library took up the entire attic, with countless shelves and quite a few sitting areas. It all looked very homey and warm.

With that done, they went back down the stairs to the third floor. Here, Foolish toured her around the two game rooms, which were very different between the brothers. Even if they hadn’t been separated by their name plaques on the doors, Eret would’ve known whose was whose immediately. Dream’s looked like an elephant had crawled in from the balcony and ransacked the room for a peanut. Foolish’s was brighter than his bedroom, though he had quite a few posters up on the walls. Both brothers had a new, sparkly (in Eret’s eyes) pc and wide monitors. Both had comfortable gaming chairs and large desks. Dream had a youtube award sitting on his desk. Allegedly, he had over one hundred-thousand subscribers.

Despite these things, Foolish skirted over most details. He seemed a bit bored and was just throwing open the doors and listing off a few facts, like how often the last maid had cleaned the rooms and whatnot. Most of that was on a schedule in Eret’s many new papers, but it was good to hear Foolish saying what he felt needed cleaned more often and what could be left a few days longer.

There were a few empty rooms which Foolish didn’t show her. He said they were for storage and weren’t ever used for anything else. That was fine.

Puffy’s office was very neat and smelt like leather. Eret was scared to walk in with her ratty trainers on, seeing a fluffy white rug in the center of the room. Foolish didn’t comment on her hesitance, instead talking about how often his father was away. Seemed Puffy owned a big business that was currently in the stages of expanding its branches through America and Canada. Because of this, she was travelling more and more often, and sometimes even when she was in the state, she was away at dinners and client’s parties. Puffy circulated in the big field, Eret could tell. At least, the woman wouldn’t be back much to compare Eret’s cooking to that of LA’s finest.

“Dad’s mostly back on the weekends,” Foolish finished off, letting her retreat fully before he closed the door. The handle was gold, but aside from that, the door was no different than any other. “Uh, I think that’s it. Have you been outside yet?”

She shook her head in the negative. The tall man seemed to zone in on her, eyes suddenly sharp.

“I’m kinda thirsty,” he said abruptly. Eret eyed him but he was already shambling towards the stairs. “There should be juice in the fridge.”

Flabbergasted, Eret scurried after him, following him down the glass spiral and then down the much firmer feeling wooden stairs. The kitchen was a welcome reprieve from the daunting rooms and Eret sank into a barstool to idle as Foolish rifled through the fridge. From her vantage, she could see it was mostly empty. They definitely needed to go on a grocery haul today.

“You want anything?” He glanced back at her. She shook her head. He closed the fridge.

Foolish sat down on the barstool beside her, quietly sipping at his capri-sun as she skimmed the work schedule the maid had left behind. She honestly didn’t know what day it was, but Monday, Wednesday and Friday were mop, hoover and dust days. Wednesday was washing day, where all the clothes were washed and the bedclothes were done bi-weekly. Apparently, the dogs also went to the groomer every Wednesday, every three to four weeks. Fridays were reserved for cleaning all the bathrooms and deep cleaning the kitchen. Tuesday was when the game rooms were specifically focused on, alongside the dining and living room. Sunday was a day for the dog room, bi-weekly. Eret thought st bernards shed so much that there would be more cleaning necessary. Foolish had also requested she hoover his bedroom more often than the previous maid, though Eret had taken hoover day as ‘hoover everything day’, instead of the allotted Thursday for the bedrooms to be cleaned.

There were certainly some things to organise better. She was sure she could get the bedrooms and bathrooms done together, alongside the hoovering of the entire house. Dream’s room would be a small short-term obstacle before she cleaned it up and it hopefully remained in some semblance of tidy. The lesser used rooms wouldn’t need mopped as regularly, so long as they were hoovered well. Obviously, she’d need to hoover and mop the kitchen and the main hallway a lot, much like the wooden hallway along the bedrooms. Those glass stairs would be a pain to keep clean and spotless, but Eret was sure it could be achieved with a good cloth and some nice polish spray for glass. She needed to do an inventory before they went shopping, so that she could get a list of any cleaning supplies that would be needed. The old maid had left a pretty comprehensive list, but there were a few things missing, like bleach and dish soap.

A loud slurp pulled her attention away from the lists. Eret set everything down as Foolish tossed his capri-sun in the trash and stretched languidly. The motion pulled his shirt up to reveal his lean stomach. He obviously made good use of that gym. That meant Eret would have to clean it very regularly.

“You good to go see the back yard?” Foolish asked her, voice almost tender. Eret nodded along and slipped from her barstool to follow him. “You don’t have to worry much about out here unless you really want to. I cut the grass every so often and, because the dogs are Dream’s by blackmail, he has to go out and pick up their shit.”

Deciding not to get into that, Eret stepped out the back and was amazed by the refreshing breeze. The back garden stretched on for about a football pitch’s length, with a proper, tidy fence curling around the border. There was a tiled patio area exactly off the house, where a large table sat for meals outside, with a hot tub opposite it. There was a tarp over the tub. Eret supposed it wasn’t the weather for skinny dipping just yet.

A bit further out, the garden was a grass field. It wasn’t in need of a trim yet, but it seemed a bit misshapen, with the air of a garden that was owned by people who didn’t know what to do with it. There was a large pool close to the patio, but beyond that, it was free space. Eret was sure the dogs enjoyed running about out here. The only thing that broke the green was a grey garden swing a bit away from the house. Maybe, if the budget allowed and the dogs were the type to enjoy it, she could set up an obstacle course of some sort to keep them entertained. The garden shed at the end of the garden seemed so far away that Eret wasn’t sure it was still in the garden.

“The area’s good,” Foolish said, gesturing her around the side of the house. The patio flooring followed all the way around to the gate. On it, was a padlock. “But we keep the gate locked. This is what your key’s for. The actual gate doesn’t need a key, despite the keyhole in its handle. You probably won’t need to open this much, but you gotta remember to lock it up again unless you want the hot tub stolen.”

The hot tub was literally buried into the patio. Eret doubted it would vanish in a blink, but she nodded along anyways. She would double check all the doors were locked at night.

“I think that’s everything,” Foolish grinned. He stood in the sunlight, looking quite radiant. “Do you wanna go down to the shops now or wait? I can entertain myself if you’re not in a hurry.”

She was relieved to find her tongue unstuck. “Um,” she cleared her throat. “I need to do an inventory before we go.”

“Sure,” Foolish nodded and plopped himself down on the patio’s edge, legs hanging over the small ledge. He pulled out his phone and peered at it. “Oh, dad sent me a text. You didn’t get the contract, did you?”

“Contract?” Eret echoed.

“Right,” he hauled himself up and meandered into the kitchen before disappearing with a quick, “Be back soon.”

Eret let him leave, deciding to get into the inventory whilst her ride was busy. She didn’t want to make Foolish wait too long. The fridge was mostly empty; a lot of things needed to be bought. The freezer, which the plan claimed was mostly stocked up on ice cream and frozen fruit, was practically bare. Eret ran her eyes over the list and noticed that everything on it was needed. There were a few eggs left in the little egg rack, but only a few. The shopping list said they needed at least twenty. Eret wasn’t sure who the egg maniac was, but she shrugged. If they ate them, they ate them. Who was she to judge.

When her assessment of the fridge was done, nicely rounded off with a mental note that everything on the shopping list needed to be bought, she checked the cabinets. Seeing what was there was a good thing, because she immediately noticed how low on cleaning supplies the house was. A new scrubbing brush needed to be bought for any dishes done in the sink. More soap for the tap dispenser, more cleaning sanitiser sprays for the sink and counters…

Humming to herself at the state of this all – the old maid must’ve left a while ago, or she just didn’t bother with replacing most of the things she used – Eret toddled into the adjoining room and checked out the gear. The washing things were in here, washing soap pods held in a nice glass jar on a shelf above the mayhem of the machines. Everything was empty, so she pulled a pen out of her shorts (the interview lady had given it to her for some reason) and found a blank page where she noted down all the things necessary. Whilst in there, she checked out the cordless hoover and the odd mop machine – it looked like it cleaned the floor and then dried it too, which would be handy. It was nearly out of soap, a container for which she found nearby. That was added to the shopping list.

The dog treats were running low. She didn’t know why they weren’t kept in the dog room, but then she figured the dogs probably would’ve eaten them. With that in mind, she went over to the dog room and checked it out, checking to see if there was anything that needed replaced or if there was anything broken. Eret didn’t make out much – she’d probably notice more when she did a proper clean and lifted up things. She wasn’t too worried. She peeped into the cinema room and noted the popcorn machine was empty. Okay, they needed kernels. The beanbags were covered in fur. A roller would be good, then.

Stepping back into the hallway, she caught a whiff of the recently closed door to the dog room. No wonder the essence machine was on in the hall. Eret stepped back in and popped open a few windows, making a note to find some dog-friendly air scents. She should probably get a few different ones to test them out. Febreze had never let her down before.

Eret trailed her way back out to the kitchen and found Foolish standing by the island. He was holding a sheaf of papers that he set down beside her pile.

“Dad forgot to give you the official job,” Foolish chuckled. He set a pen down beside it. “This details your time off, hours, stuff like that. You don’t have to sign it yet, but dad needs it by the end of the week so you can get paid.”

“The pay is weekly?” She blinked.

“Yeah,” Foolish nodded. “You’ve got a starting bonus that dad’s put on the grocery card. With that, you can buy whatever you need before you get your first paycheck.”

That wasn’t a very normal thing. Was it because she looked as homeless as she had been not an hour prior? Well, Eret wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth, even if she heard giggles from inside it.

She read the contract and was immediately convinced that she was dreaming. Twenty days off unpaid, ten off paid, bank holidays paid at double the rate, as well as special events like thanksgiving and Christmas. Her ‘starting bonus’ that Foolish had mentioned was a sweet two double o dollars (two-hundred) and Puffy had outlined that she would be paid a certain amount per day, since she was living in the house. The wages were far above the minimum wage, if she took it to be a nine-to-five. Not to mention, she got a weekend bonus for every Saturday and Sunday she worked. Seeing how she would be living at her job, Eret figured it wouldn’t hurt to get ahead of the curve and put in an extra few hours.

There were some pretty serious rules laid down. Stealing was an immediate termination, and her room was connected to her job. It was down in some finickity legal terms that if Eret got fired, she was out on her ass. No Squatter’s Law here. It did say she would be paid for any work she had done before termination, which was good.

Not to mention, the fact that the end-of-year total was a lot bigger than the one advertised was a very nice treat. When she asked Foolish about it, he said that total was what she could get if she did her job well. The advertised one was the basic wage, and what she’d be making for the first year. Apparently, they’d had maids in the past who took their long shifts for granted and had slacked off. Eret vowed not to do that.

Another fact he dropped was that she would be the first live-in maid. It was uncharted territory for all of them. Hopefully, no one was too upset about her (a literal stranger who their father had spent less than half-an-hour with) living with them.

She needed to keep this job. If that meant dealing with a kid who didn’t know what a bin was and a stunningly handsome hunk who seemed to smile lots and definitely hung out in the gym too much, then yeah, she could manage.

It all seemed too good to be true. Eret bit the bullet and signed the contract. She carefully wrote out her bank details, and her phone number, and Foolish snapped a pic to send to his father, saying she could get the physical copy back once he scanned over a digital copy to Puffy later. He skittered off with the documents and Eret stood around for a few minutes.

When he returned, it was with a shiny bank card clutched in his hand. “This is the grocery card,” he grinned, brandishing it. “You ready to go?”

Chapter Text

“Will Dream get in alright?” Eret asked as they buckled up. Foolish’s car was a chunky jeep of a thing. Actually, it was more accurate to call it a truck. They felt very small inside it. There was a jellybean air scenter hanging around the rearview mirror.

“Yeah, he’s got keys,” Foolish nodded. He’d locked up the house as Eret floated around. Then, he’d unlocked the garage door and used the remote to open up the shutter door on it. She tried not to grind her teeth too much as he put the truck into reverse and paused to tap the button for the garage door to go down. “Even if he didn’t, an hour or two sitting outside wouldn’t kill him.”

Once the truck started moving, Eret was certainly not worried about some kid she’d never met. Her spine had straightened out like a hot poker, muscles tense. At every stop sign, she felt herself vibrate. On every light, she pinched feeling into her legs. Foolish seemed to notice something was wrong and chattered about his engineering course, telling her all about it. That, or he didn’t notice at all and was just a chatter box.

He'd told her she had control over the radio, but she’d been too scared of picking a channel that he wouldn’t like. So, Eret had not so subtly urged him to choose instead. He’d put on a country western audio play that was both loud enough but also quiet enough that it just about registered to them as an irritation.

He asked her if she had much stuff to move in with and she croaked out something about her storage locker, Foolish seemed to brighten with an idea. Eret eyed his expression and internally debated if it meant good things for her or not. “Oh, dad has some stuff down there that she’s been meaning to grab. We could go down there after the groceries, if you want. It would be good to get it out of the way. Heh, we’re all big on procrastinating.”

It was an unlikely story that she took for face value.

If Foolish really wanted to drive her an hour in the other direction of his house, then she wouldn’t complain. She couldn’t afford to hire out a crew to drive her stuff down in a van, and she was too hesitant to give away the grocery card details, even if Puffy had put extra money on it for her. Eret had snapped a few photos of the contract, stating she wanted to remember the holidays and such, but she’d actually made sure to get in the important things – like the bonus money. She didn’t want to be back charged, or not paid, or something like that. It was good to have photos of the contract she’d signed, as it was, rather than the version Foolish would give back to her.

On the bright side, the fact that she could live freely in her boss’s house meant that she wouldn’t have to spend much money outside of this initial outing. If she was careful, she’d be out of her overdraft debt in less than a month. She intended to get the most out of the two-hundred dollars she’d been given, especially because it was hers but on a card that decidedly wasn’t hers.

Her storage unit had a retrieval fee, if she remembered correctly. Something close to forty dollars? That meant she should probably keep fifty of the two-hundred, just in case. It would be very difficult to spend that much money in the first place. She could buy clothes, soaps and face masks in the dollarstore.

Oh. She hadn’t checked to see if the boys needed shampoo or anything. The thought had her turning to Foolish, who was easily driving this mammoth truck down the road.

“Do you or your brother need soap or anything?” She asked. The shopping list had toilet roll on it, though she hadn’t seen bodywash or anything. That reminded her, she should probably buy some nice smelling perfume for herself. A little treat. “Any toiletries?”

“Huh?” Foolish glanced at her. At the prospect of him not watching the road, she held her breath, though he looked back a second later. “I dunno, I guess I could get some shampoo. I’ll text Dream when we park.”

Satisfied, Eret mulled over what things she could buy and unintentionally forgot about the fact she was in a moving vehicle.

“Text sent,” Foolish’s voice broke into her consciousness. Eret wavered, head turning towards the noise. Foolish was sitting with his seatbelt off, phone in his hand. The truck had stopped. Shooting a quick glance around the place, Eret found they’d parked in the parking lot of the grocery store. It was very big and the carpark was equally as huge.

Feeling a tad silly, wondering when she’d spaced out, Eret unbuckled herself and patted down her pockets to check she had everything. The shopping list was secure. Good – she’d never be able to remember everything they needed. It was wrapped around the shiny bankcard. Her most important quarry. Her phone was still in her inner pocket. She still had a bathroom mint left. It was the sole survivor.

“We good to go?” Foolish asked, voice gentle. He reminded her of Puffy in that moment, with the businesswoman smiling up at them. Eret stared at Foolish’s kind smile, noting the way his cheek had the slightest dimple.

“Um, if you are,” she said, words tumbling out of her. Everything was a bit distant.

Foolish was gone with a chirp. “Okay!”

The truck door slammed. Eret got her own door opened and wobbled out, jaw aching just as much as her legs were numb. The supermarket was huge, even from the ten parking rows they were away.

“Place is busy today,” Foolish nattered, waiting at the bonnet for her to walk around. When she joined him, he locked the truck and shoved his keys in his pocket before shoving both hands into his pockets too. He walked like she expected a man to; with the confidence that he could get whatever he wanted in life.

Eret kept pace with him, trying to stand tall, be firm, tower over everyone else. The carpark was busier than she would’ve liked it to be, which boded ill for the supermarket itself. It would probably be packed with shoppers. Whenever she went shopping, she always got glared at for being too dirty, looking too dangerous. Eret didn’t think she was dangerous – she couldn’t do anything but scream when she seen a spider.

Long story short, with a heaping of social anxiety as the cherry on top, Eret did not like shopping in crowded areas. She hadn’t liked the hostels or shelters because of all the people there. They were dirty and there were too many unknowns sleeping in the beds around her. Don’t get her wrong – the shelters were good for keeping the cold out and maybe for getting a meal, but they had not been to Eret’s taste.

Foolish was entirely unbothered by everything. He grabbed a large trolley from one of the trolley shelters and pushed it along. Eret was overly anxious as they walked through the carpark, weary of people in their fancy cars suddenly pulling out or others trying to speed in the restricted space. Thankfully, they made it to the doors of the supermarket without getting run over.

Cool air flushed over them as they entered. It sent a chill down Eret’s spine that she ignored by digging out the shopping list. There was so much to get that it was daunting.

“Let’s start from one end and work our way around,” Foolish suggested. Eret agreed and they turned to the far left of the store.

It was the fresh produce aisle. Seeing how Foolish was more than happy to stand by the trolley, Eret skittered off to check over everything. She was already brainstorming meals up in her head and being here to see the vegetables and fruit available to her was good.

Eret hadn’t brought Dream’s lists with her, but his safe foods had been so random that she remembered, and a few of his disliked ones had personally offended her. Safe to say, Eret remembered most of the list. Anything that she planned for that he didn’t like, she could just use substitute items.

She grabbed sweet baby tomatoes, celery, onions, mushrooms, broccoli, normal tomatoes and a litany of other things. Foolish watched quietly as she covered up the bottom of the trolley with the fresh produce alone. When it came to fruits, she grabbed everything on the list, checking for the best dates and the least bruised fruit, and asked Foolish if there was anything he wanted to add. Eret had grabbed bananas, grapes, strawberries and blueberries, alongside a few pouches of pineapple and apple slices that she assumed were good for packed lunches. She spied a bag of full apples and added that. Foolish hummed a bit and added raspberries to the mix. Eret watched this and added in a little note to the shopping list.

Eret had never been one for shopping, but as they teetered around the aisles, getting what was needed, she started to feel comfortable. Foolish was whistling idly as he steered the trolley along after them. Eret went around the aisles, picking up meal ideas as she got an understanding of the capacity of the store. The place was huge and it showed that in how much stuff it had. Americans were always so over the top but this time, it had come in handy. They probably wouldn’t have to go to another shop to pick up extras.

Beside the fresh produce were the cool aisles. They picked up a lot of milk cartons, quite a few different packets of yogurts and different juices. Eret grabbed a few types of cheeses, thinking back to the board on the table. Foolish threw in a few bottles of milkshake, which she jotted down as extra options. There was a lot in the cart already – how much did this family eat in just one week?

Well… Eret watched as Foolish debated over another pack of yogurts. He was very muscley. Muscle-ish. Muscular. He probably ate a lot to keep that bulk. Hm. Maybe he was the egg maniac.

When they came to the eggs, at the end of the aisle, Foolish laughed at the multiple packets she grabbed after checking them.

“You probably think we’re weird,” he said, “Two dozen eggs for a week.”

“Uh,” she blinked, not having been fully conscious of herself setting them into the trolley. Looking to Foolish as he spoke, she found him watching her. He was all eyes, this guy. “Well, omelettes?”

He grinned wider. “Not quite. I eat a few for breakfast and stuff, but Bentley gets most of them.”

Oh. This was new territory. “The St Bernard?”

“Yup,” Foolish nodded. “We went on holiday one year and the dogsitter fed him good. Too good, actually. We can’t get him to eat kibble anymore.”

No one said she’d have to cook for the dog too.

“A couple chicken breasts, some turkey, a lot of steak; that stuff’s for him. He’ll eat carrots and all the usual veggies, but he goes crazy for some meat. Likes his steak.”

Peering down at the list, Eret recalled the mass amounts of meat it called for. They hadn’t hit the meats aisle yet, but she was sure they could buy out a butchery with how much they needed. “Right.”

“Athena’s not so bad,” the man was saying. Eret felt kind of stuck in place as he started pushing the trolley. When he was a few steps away, she snapped to life and took a few longer strides to catch up. He was still talking about his dogs: “She takes wet canned stuff, but she’ll fight for a steak sometimes.”

Steak for a dog. They probably bought the cheap ones… no way anyone would be buying the top-range stuff for a pet, right? Although, Eret reconsidered as she watched Foolish make an unsanctioned pitstop for a coffee cup sitting in a side-display. They’re loaded.

Foolish had probably grown up with more money than Eret had ever seen.

He added the cup to the trolley with a grin. Eret didn’t feel like she could tell him to put it back, because he was the boss’s son. The budget would be a bit over the usual, she knew. Hell, it probably already was, even though she hadn’t added too many new things. Puffy had allowed her a bit of leeway, though she hadn’t specified how much. But, she knew Eret needed to buy more stuff, so hopefully this wouldn’t be too much of an issue.

Oh. She hoped the card had enough on it.

“This is a lot of stuff,” she started nervously. The trolley was huge and it was already a quarter filled, if not more. “Will there be enough on the card?”

Foolish peered at her. “Sure there will.”

“Really?” She pried, because getting to the counter and not having enough money was the worst thing she’d ever experienced in her life. “I know Puffy said she put extra money on, but there’s quite a few extras going in.”

He looked bashful, likely thinking back to everything he’d thrown in. “Really, Eret. Don’t worry about it. Dad puts on a lot more than she says. Too much to run out of money because there’s an extra hundred dollars of stuff in the trolley.”

Seeing how insistent he was, Eret decided to drop the issue. She felt rather meek after his words. Like she’d been told off. “Okay.”

Completely unbothered, Foolish sailed around the shop. In the sweets aisle, he told her to get some of what she liked, though for the entire time Eret had been in America, she’d been too broke to sample a wide range of sweets. Foolish let her fidget nervously for a bit before throwing in all sorts of candies, chocolates, and cookies. Getting ahold of herself, Eret added in what was on the list (just twinkies) and then moved on to the crisps and popcorn section. There were popcorn kernels for the popcorn machine.

The next aisle was the cleaning aisle. Eret was a bit thrown off by the arrangement of the shop but didn’t mention it as she flitted about, comparing what cleaners there were to the ones she remembered seeing in the cupboards. Foolish cleared a space in the trolley to try and separate the chemicals from the food, though she added so many things that there was a mini mountain. She got the washing machine things, like the soap and scented balls, the tablets for the dish washer, the dryer sheets, and the soap for the mop machine. It was going great. Eret was very pleased.

When they tottered further down the aisle, she came upon the scented things and used Foolish as a tester for what would be good for the dog room. Foolish liked a blueberry scented incense bottle so much that he added it for his own room. She got a spray disinfectant and scented spray for the furniture. And a few lint rollers.

“Geez,” Foolish huffed once they were out of the aisle. “The house’ll be sparkling with all these things.”

“There’s not that much,” she said, then turned and wilted because there was quite a lot. “Um, well, there’s specific things. Like for the bathroom and the kitchen. This bottle is for the oven but it can only be used for the oven, so there’s another cleaner for the counters and a spray for the fridge…”

She trailed off as Foolish waved her down. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry for upsetting you.”

Eret eyed him. “What?”

He blinked back. “I’m sorry?”

“Why?” She asked. He’d started a conversation, right? He’d targeted the cleaning topic and… oh. Eret had went off on a tangent. She’d annoyed him by speaking too much. A sickly feeling settled in her stomach. “Oh—”

“I’m not much of a cleaner,” Foolish laughed, rubbing at his neck. “I didn’t mean to undermine you.”

What?

Eret was more confused than she should’ve been. “You didn’t,” she reassured, even though his initial comment had started her off on a justifying rant for why she needed so many things. “I, uh… I didn’t mean to go on so much.”

He had that odd look in his eyes again. The one that reminded her of Puffy, despite her only just having met her boss less than an hour ago. “Don’t worry about things like that.”

Easier said than done. Eret wasn’t sure how to respond, so she gave an awkward smile. She’d feel bad if she didn’t make some sign of acknowledgement. Stuff like that made her feel ignored, so she tried not to do it when she was speaking with people.

“Let’s get the meat,” Foolish pushed onwards. Eret kept up with him and gawked at the rows of produce. Foolish paused in the middle of the not very busy aisle (actually, the shop wasn’t as busy as she’d expected it to be) and pulled out his phone. That was fine. He hadn’t grabbed much along the way unless he wanted it himself.

Left on her own, Eret skipped about. Chicken, turkey, ham. She grabbed what was needed, then added a few bits more in. There wasn’t any steak.

“Dream needs shampoo and deodorant,” Foolish piped up. Right. They still had so much to get, even with the goods in the trolley steadily climbing up its metal walls.

“Alright. That’s most of it, but,” she walked over to dump the last of the things in her hands into the trolley. “There’s no steak here.”

“Oh,” Foolish blinked. “I think there’s a butcher counter in a corner somewhere.”

That made sense. Fresher meat, she supposed. It was probably very expensive.

After making sure she had everything on the list, they went into the next aisle. Spices, herbs. She grabbed a few things, having skimmed over the house’s spice collection and instantly having known the name of everything. Eret pranced about, grabbing a few extras she’d never seen before. Her dinner plans were vast, and she was even starting to think up mini meals for snacks and stuff. If Dream brought friends over regularly, they’d probably be hungry. It would be cool if she could make him the cool kid by always having fancy snacks.

“Where’s the flour,” she murmured to herself, eyes scanning the aisle. It felt like she was shopping for an entire country. She got self-rising yeast, a lot of different flours, different oils. Foolish threw in edible sparkles, obviously having figured out that she had plans to make a few nice things. She blinked at them, rhythm disrupted. He smiled at her.

“You guys like icing?” She asked. She didn’t recall this being on any of Dream’s lists. Thinking of that brought her a lot of stress. What if the things she thought of weren’t to his liking, beyond that of substitutes?

“Yeah,” Foolish grinned. “One of the things Dream’ll eat no matter what mood he’s in.”

Okay. That was… All Eret had to do was make cake and Dream would eat the icing happily.

“You have any favourite treats that you can both eat?” She asked, and wrote down everything that he said. Dream wasn’t big on lemon but apparently he ate lemon drizzle cake like it would kill him if he didn’t. Foolish said he wasn’t picky, then gave her a list of about fifteen cakes and buns that he knew Dream liked but that he didn’t. She wrote down everything on the back of the shopping list, writing going tinier and tinier when Foolish started talking about what they both could snack on, and then what he liked alone. It was a very diverse selection.

Dream apparently loved ranch. Eret didn’t question it. When they found the condiments section, she grabbed a few big bottles of it. Foolish grabbed a lot of ketchup. While they were there, Eret grabbed mustard, mayonnaise, salad cream, and a few other things like soy sauce. When she asked Foolish if Dream was good for soy, he wasn’t sure. Their dinners had mainly consisted of take-out for the past few years. At least, Eret knew he liked Chinese and Indian curries. She wanted to say that he’d definitely encountered soy sauce at some point in his life, but wasn’t sure.

They moved on. The meat counter was directly in front of the next aisle. Having a butcher counter beside the frozen aisle was a bit odd, she thought.

Foolish seemed happy enough to pile up the ice cream in the trolley. He picked out the branded tubs that were more expensive than the non-branded stuff. Eret followed the list and grabbed a few tubs. Foolish grabbed a bag of potato waffles and threw them in with a wink.

“We’ll need these,” he snickered.

Eret wasn’t sure they would. She intended to create a very organic plan. Sushi, hot curries, fresh pasta. Frozen waffles hadn’t been on her agenda. She smiled along anyways.

When they got through the ice cream cone section and managed to exit the aisle, the smell of meat was evident. Eret wasn’t that sensitive to smells, unless they were specific – if she ever smelt that air freshener that her grandparents used, she was sure she’d stop functioning – but the meat counter had a smell that she didn’t like right from the start.

There was a lot of meat under the glass window. From lamb to pork, with all sorts of cuts. A little ways down the shop floor, there was a fish stall. She could smell that too, but she’d have to take it in stride because she planned to get some fish.

“What steak does Bentley eat?” She asked Foolish.

“Ribeye steak,” he said. “We need about, eh, twenty servings.”

The man behind the counter was not phased. Eret spent a moment gawking. Ribeye was… one of the more expensive ones here. Nearly forty dollars per pound. Oh, the grocery bill was going to be insane.

“You’re that family,” the man in his white apron and pointed hat said. “What happened to the previous maid? Haven’t seen her in a while. She get fired?”

“She retired,” Foolish smiled. Eret wasn’t sure, so she stood beside him, eyeing up what was left to get on the list. They’d been here for what felt like ages and were thankfully mostly done. They needed fish, breads, their personal hygiene items and a few baking utensils. Then, Eret was free to find herself some clothes to spend her bonus on. Hopefully Foolish wouldn’t get too mad with her if she took ten or so minutes to pick some stuff out for herself.

“Ah,” the counter man nodded. “Was wonderin’ why I hadn’t seen her in a while. I’ll get your ribeye out, though it might take a minute. You guys are our best buyer for that.”

“I’m sure,” Foolish laughed. “Our dog loves it.”

“Spoiled rotten, I see,” the man chuckled. The atmosphere was genial and light. Eret eyed them as they chatted before slipping away to the fish stand.

There was a woman standing by it. She gave her a fierce glare and said, “I don’t serve ones like you.”

Heat spilled across Eret’s cheeks. She’d gotten so used to Foolish treating her like a human that she’d forgotten she had the appearance of a wet dog.

“I need some salmon,” she said, flicking through the shopping list for any fish requirements. There was nothing. Eret looked back up to the woman throwing a dull fish into an ice box. She pushed it towards her.

“Your salmon,” the old lady snarled.

Eret opened the cool box and lifted the fish up, shoving the shopping list into her pocket. It was quite small and its body was flabby in her hands. The gills were brown and faded and its eyes were blotched with red.

She dropped the fish back into the ice.

“No,” she disagreed. “I want a fresh salmon. I need four ones bigger than this.”

“That’s all we got,” the lady huffed. Eret gave her a blank stare and cocked her head to look at the salmon sitting on display in the glass window. Those ones were fresher looking. The counter lady huffed and puffed before she took back the salmon and changed it. The replacement had blurred eyes and a broken fin.

“I’m not trying to be rude,” Eret started. The old lady lifted a scraggly brow. “But I need good fish.”

Eret knew a lot about fish. Her father had been a pescatarian and had only eaten fish for years. Sometimes, she’d been so sick of fish that she’d cried. But, he’d taught her how to buy a good fish at the markets. He’d been a frequent shopper in the Billingsgate Fish Market in London and knew what to look out for.

The old lady glowered at her. Foolish rolled up with the trolley and enough meat to feed a mammoth. That was, if mammoths had been carnivores.

“Everything alright?” He asked. The look he gave the old lady was one that had Eret very thankful he hadn’t directed it at her.

“This lady’s just taking her fish,” the counter lady said. She turned towards Foolish like he was a new customer. “What can I do for you, sir?”

“I’m with her,” he said, frowning.

Eret pushed back the ice box. “I want fresh fish.”

The old lady scowled. “That is fresh, dear.”

“Its eyes are decomposing,” she rebutted.

Foolish cleared his throat. “It’s fine, Eret, we can go somewhere else.”

At the prospect of losing what few customers she had, the lady gave a great, audible scowl, and dragged the ice box back behind the counter. “Fine! Fine, just wait.”

She pushed the ice box back out with four salmon in it. Eret checked each one, finding good gills, slimy bodies and clear eyes. They smelt like the sea. Fresh.

“Thank you,” she said, and closed the ice box. It was set gently into the trolley. The old lady glared them away.

“She rude to you?” Foolish asked as they walked away.

Eret recalled the woman’s harsh words and shrugged. “Just a grumpy old lady.”

“That wasn’t a no,” Foolish said. He sounded weird. When Eret turned to look at him, she saw him frowning. Why was he upset?

“I’m not bothered,” she lied. Her heart had shaken in its place when the lady had insulted her and she certainly would remember the vitriol in her eyes, but nothing was physically damaged. In terms of the encounters Eret was used to seeing and sometimes being in on the streets, having an old lady shoot insults at her wasn’t that bad. It hurt her feelings, yeah, but it hadn’t broken skin. So, she was fine. And, she repeated this, “I’m fine.”

It sounded good.

Foolish was still frowning. Eret offered him a smile. He looked away.

Oh. She’d overstepped. Did he not want her smiling at him when he was frowning? Was that a social thing? Her father had always tried to smile back when she smiled at him. He’d frowned a lot.

Turning away, Eret swayed the trolley into the bread aisle. There was a lot to get here, like a loaf for all the sandwiches everyone seemed to eat. Bagels, pancakes, croissants. Foolish threw in some bagged donuts and pan au chocolats.

There was a small selection of spreads and jams at the end of the aisle. Eret peered at them and added in quite a few. Foolish, almost expectedly, added chocolate spread to the trolley.

They moved on. Eret got a few baking tins and pastry brushes, as well as a few stands for cakes and cupcake moulds. The knives were along that aisle, for some reason, so she browsed those and picked out a good one she could use specially for fish. Her grandparents had been big on the whole ‘one knife for this, another for this’ and before, she’d been too broke for that. Now that she was cooking for a kid who probably didn’t want to be tasting anything he didn’t like in his dinner, she got a few extra cutting knives.

Standing by the trolley, Foolish let her put in whatever she wanted. Next was the personal hygiene aisle, where Eret made sure Dream got his soap and deodorant before starting to get what she needed for herself.

There was a lot to get: deodorant, a toothbrush and toothpaste, a hairbrush, hair bobbles, shampoo and conditioner and bodywash. Those were only a few things. She got a few face masks and some patches for her eyebags, as well as a few cleansing facial washes.

Foolish watched her make her own little pile of stuff without making any comments. Mouthwash that she’d used before and knew wasn’t too minty made the cut. On her second sweep, she added things to shave with and floss.

There was a small section for perfumes that she lingered at for a moment before crouching down to sniff at the testers. Surprisingly, Foolish joined her.

“There’s stuff for men down there,” she gestured, honestly not believing that Foolish would be the type to spray floral perfume over himself.

“I know,” he hummed, hand out for the scent testers after she sniffed them. They went along the available rows in a methodical pattern, with Eret getting a nice noseful before passing off the tester to Foolish, who either nodded or made a disagreeing noise at the smell.

Eret found one that she quite liked, but when she looked at its price it was a bit too much. Biting her lip, she gave up on it but mentally mused that she could maybe buy it once she was out of debt. She handed off the tester to Foolish and he made a nice sound.

“That one’s nice,” he said. “It would suit you.”

“It’s too dear,” she said without thinking. Eret had already grabbed up the next tester to sniff.

“Huh?” Foolish peered at the perfume bottle. “It’s only eighty dollars.”

Oh. Eret knew where the line was drawn.

“I don’t have eighty dollars.” She said, then amended, “To spend on perfume.”

The man beside her shrugged. He put the tester back and she figured that was that. When she made to pass him the next one, he took it easily and made a disgruntled noise. She agreed with that assessment – it smelt like sour, moldy peaches.

Eventually, she came across one that smelled like the cotton candy bodyspray the interview lady had spritzed on her. It was three dollars, so she grabbed a few of it and stood up to move on. Foolish lingered for a bit.

“It’s dad’s birthday soon,” he commented when he knew she was watching. “I don’t know what to get her.”

Eret peered at the perfumes – all mid-range, nothing really expensive like she thought Puffy would have easily at hand – and hummed. “I don’t know what she likes,” she stalled. “If not perfume, maybe you could get her spa tickets or something?”

Foolish set down the last tester and stood, stretching his arms over his head again. “I dunno. She’s not really the spa type.”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something,” Eret offered, then started tugging the trolley away. Foolish chuffed a laugh at her, because she didn’t get very far with the weight of it, and gestured for her to lead the way as he took up his place at the handlebar.

Chapter Text

Having mentally tallied everything up, Eret knew how much money she still had to use. Foolish probably knew too, because she was murmuring everything aloud to keep track of it.

Beyond the actual aisles of food and products, there was an endless expanse of clothing rails. This store had just about everything in it – with tents and inflatable pool floats hanging from the ceiling a bit away from them. There was a large children’s section that they had to wade through to get to the older area, but once she did, Eret was pleased to see the clothing wasn’t too expensive.

They stumbled upon the pajamas first and she grabbed a nice set with pink shorts and a thin button-up shirt. It was very cute, so she decided to get it. She didn’t have any pajamas. When she’d grown older, she’d kind of aged out of them, but with her living in a house and working for the people in the house, she didn’t want to be caught out if they suddenly needed her for something.

There was nothing worse than traumatizing one of your boss’s kids by giving them a fright when they came to ask for hot chocolate or something during the night. Seeing how Dream’s room was, Eret anticipated for him to be a somewhat difficult kid, even if he was an older teenager.

Foolish didn’t say anything when she set the pj set over the trolley’s rail. She didn’t want to throw her clothes all atop the food and stuff, so she just set it up to hang. With a neat system, she could easily tally up the prices.

She got a bit nervous when they came up to the lingerie section. She’d guessed her size for the pjs, because she hadn’t really bought much for herself in a while. The shirt she’d bought for her interview had turned out a bit too big, even though it had been the size she’d been in uni. Sizing down for clothing was easy. Sizing for bras in general was not.

“Um,” she said, feeling her face heat up. “I… don’t stare, okay?”

“Sure,” Foolish said, and turned around to lean on the trolley’s handle with his back to her. His head dipped as he scrolled through his phone.

With her… accomplice dealt with, Eret skittered over to the first nude bra she seen and searched for the size she used to be. Living in parks and on corner streets had taken the fat off her bones and although she could guess her way around t-shirts, a bra was not as easy. She hadn’t had one in ages.

Thankfully, there was no one in the aisle. If there had been, she would never have been able to buy one.

Eret grabbed one she thought would fit and tied it around her chest, over her shirt. It was too big. She scaled down. Too tiny. She switched to a different brand. The size that had been too tiny in the prior brand was too big in this one.

After a few minutes of picking and choosing, Eret got something that felt right. She only grabbed one real bra, because she was kind of scared that her chest wouldn’t like it after so long of nothing, so she picked up a few sports bras as well. She could get more later, if need be.

Feeling a bit embarrassed, she put the bras under the pj set. With Foolish not paying attention, she guestimated her underwear size and picked a few nice packets. Trainer socks were the cheapest so she picked those up for her sock selection.

“Okay,” she cleared her throat, looking over to Foolish, who perked up at her voice. “I just need a few shirts, now.”

Foolish peered at the stuff in the trolley. “You can afford a lot more than a few shirts,” he noted. Eret did the mental calculation and figured that even leaving out fifty dollars, she could probably get more than a few shirts.

Agreeing with a shrug, she wandered off to the top aisle. Seeing as it was going to get warmer very soon, she grabbed a few tank tops and a few graphic t-shirts.

Halfway through putting them into the trolley, she spied a few formal looking shirts.

“Oh. Is there a certain way you want me to dress when I’m working?”

Foolish lifted both eyebrows. “What? Of course not. You can wear what you want, so long as you’re not... I don’t know, naked?”

She giggled a little. Eret would never have thought of wearing too revealing outfits. It wasn’t her home and she understood that.

“Gotcha,” she hummed. If they didn’t need her to dress up all formal, it was better that she bought a few more t-shirts and blouses rather than formal wear. When she had a nice selection going, they moved on to the trouser aisle.

She got a few pairs of jeans, one denim blue and the other black, and a few pairs of shorts. She tallied everything up and decided to get a skirt with her last ten dollars.

“That it?” Foolish blinked. “I doubt you spent ninety dollars on bras.”

Blinking, she said. “No, that’s it.”

“Really?” He didn’t seem convinced.

“Oh,” Eret smiled. “I’m saving fifty dollars for the storage place. They have a retrieval fee.”

“What?” Foolish echoed. “That’s stupid. I’ll put that on dad’s bill. Just spend the rest of your money here.”

Eret didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t just say no to the boss’s son but she also couldn’t have her boss pay for her storage fees.

“No, no,” she spluttered. “It’s okay, I’ll cover that.”

Foolish strolled off with the trolley, heading further into the clothes area. “I don’t care. Buy shoes, or something.”

Flushed, knowing that she should probably buy shoes instead of wandering about their house in socks, she lost her fight. She felt bad for making her boss pay for her storage, but Foolish was insisting... Eret didn’t want to make him angry.

Her shoe quest was fruitful. She ended up with a pair of black pumps and a new pair of comfy trainers. Foolish had seen them and pointed them out; with memory foam and a soft lilac colour. They looked very nice and the soles squished easily under her prodding fingers.

Her shoes were added to the trolley. With that, Foolish backed up the huge thing and pushed it towards the tills.

The shop was huge and it demonstrated this another way by having fifteen long lines of tills. There were more people here than she’d seen throughout the store, with the unending beeping of the tills reverberating without the aisles to rebuff the sound. Eret was a bit mystified by the sight and how busy it all was, but Foolish seemed undaunted, and easily pushed the trolley over to a till.

There was a bagger waiting to bag their things, stood at the end of the conveyor belt.

Foolish started piling things up onto the belt, and Eret rushed to help. There was a lot. So much so that the trolley was barely half-emptied when the conveyor belt was filled to the brim. The cashier was going at a mile a minute to scan everything, and the frantic rustling of bags suggested the bagger was doing the same.

It took a good five minutes before the trolley was empty. By the time they had pushed it around the other side of the till to start loading up the bags, the stream of goods going through the scanner was nonstop. The beep beep beep was relentless.

Finally, everything was scanned. The cashier gave the total.

Mind boggled, Eret stood in a state of shock for a moment. She fished the card out of her pocket and Foolish had to remind her of the pin.

That... That had been a very expensive grocery haul.

Very. Expensive.

“Huh, thought it would be more than that,” Foolish chuckled on the way out. Eret was too frazzled to respond, eyeing the receipt like it had lied to her.

The only good thing to come of it had been the many points they got on the store’s reward card, which was sitting primly in Eret’s pocket beside the grocery card. The cashier had all but jumped at the chance to get them onto the rewards program. They were a few points off from getting a few coupons for money off their next shop.

“We should probably leave these off at home before heading to the storage place,” Foolish said as they got the groceries loaded into the truck’s huge boot. Eret nodded along, offering to push the trolley back and instead being left to sit in the passenger seat when Foolish zoomed off with it himself.

She picked the music station to avoid that western play and tried to mentally prepare herself for the ride back.

A teeth-grindingly long drive back to the house had Eret relieved to be able to stand on non-moving ground. Foolish went to open the door first, so she grabbed as many bags as she could and started lifting them in. On her way through the hallway, she noticed the living room door was wide open, with the tv on. She caught a glimpse of pink and green sitting on the couch.

There were a lot of bags to bring in. The pink blur materialised as a young man, who pulled his shoes off the shoe rack to help them bring in stuff. Eret thanked him as she let him take whatever bags he wanted, quietly noticing how he took the fuller, heavier ones. After a trip of the pink-haired guy, another boy appeared, this one with sandy hair and a green hoodie on. He seemed to take the bags in begrudgingly.

When they got all the bags into the house, Eret slipped a few of the cheese slices on the board into her mouth and savoured them as she worked on putting everything into its place. Foolish helped by opening and ripping up cardboard boxes of the products, with him seeming particularly eager to get into the capri-sun packaging. The two boys lingered around only long enough to drop off the last of their bags.

Eret caught them both before they could disappear into the hallway. The boy in the green hoodie looked worried he’d be asked to do more.

“Thanks for helping,” she said to them both. “I’m Eret, the new maid.”

“Cool,” the pink haired boy said. He looked around seventeen, with his long hair pulled back in intricate braids that made her kind of jealous. Eret had cut her hair to above shoulder-height a few weeks ago because it was easier to wash her hair in a sink when it was shorter. “Technoblade.”

The boy wearing the green hoodie didn’t speak. Technoblade gave him the driest stare Eret had ever seen and piped up, “And this is Dream.”

Dream looked every bit the difficult child Eret had imagined him to be. Even now, standing in his own kitchen, he was standoffish and side-eying her.

“It’s nice to meet the two of you,” she smiled, fidgeting nervously the longer Dream scowled. Deciding she could work on it later, Eret looked to Technoblade, finding him staring at her impassively. “Will you be staying for dinner, Technoblade?”

“Nah,” he grunted. “Dad’s making curry tonight.”

“Sounds nice,” she nodded. “When you do stay over, make sure to pop in to mention any allergies you have.”

“Sure,” Technoblade agreed easily. Eret slipped away from them to organise the ice creams before they all melted and pretended to not see Technoblade dragging Dream away by his hood.

Foolish took a place up on a seat by the island. He pulled out his phone and started chewing at some of the cucumber left on the platter. There wasn’t much left – when they’d left the house, there had been a lot more on it. Eret assumed Technoblade and Dream had been snacking. That was good; she was pleased there had been something for them to eat in the nearly empty house.

Eret used the diagram layout of the fridge for reference, but she slotted things into place rather neatly on her own. When she picked up the yogurts, she just seemed to know by their size where they went. The various milk and juice bottles went along the doors, with the fruit getting ripped out of their packages and quickly rinsed in the sink – with the retractable tap; how fancy – before being sealed up in glass tubs. A few of those tubs went into the freezer, probably for smoothies and whatnot, whilst a majority of the fruit was left in the fridge.

She had everything packed away before she knew it. Foolish had taken away all the cardboard boxes to dump them in the bins at the side of the house, and likely to hide how many capri-suns he’d drank whilst waiting for her.

With nothing to do, she took a great breath and relaxed minimally. It was then, Eret noticed the bags waiting for her. Her clothes were folded up neatly inside. Flushed with a sense of fullness, one that was both overjoyed and eager, Eret grabbed them and took them up to her room. Foolish had nagged her to throw in a few blankets for herself, as well as a pair of full pillows. They were very soft and nice. When she set them on the bed, she arranged them in no manner at all, instead looking over the things that were hers.

It had been a while since she’d had anything that was truly hers. Looking over to the desk, she thought of the console in storage and couldn’t help but grin. She was actually excited for once.

When she returned to the kitchen, having dropped off all her new things and reapplied some deodorant and having washed her face in the fancy ensuite, Eret found Foolish.

“We ready to go?”

“Now?” She asked. It was close to five o’clock. “When’s dinner usually? I don’t want to upset anyone by putting it back.”

“We usually eat around seven,” Foolish grinned. “It helps us snack.”

Smiling along, Eret mused to herself that the late dinner was likely the sole thing that helped the family eat so much fruit in a week.

Suddenly, a chime rang out. It seemed to echo in the room; a loud, ethereal hum.

“Oop, dogs are back,” Foolish said, and sauntered off to get the door. Eret was half-sure that was her job, to be seeing anyone at the front door, but the mention of dogs tamed her. She didn’t want to be first out in case something… happened.

In the past, not all dogs had been her friends.

Standing halfway down the hall, Eret watched Foolish get the door. A scruffy man with a big grin unleashed a pink blur and another one that was further to the side of the house. The pink dog skittered into the house, obviously a husky from a glance, even if it was an odd colour. Eret was almost afraid Athena would come to her, but the husky took a sharp turn and raced into the living room. The boys inside chattered excitedly to her.

The husky was energetic. Okay. She could deal with that.

Eret tried to soothe herself by wringing her hands. It wasn’t doing much good.

When she looked up and saw the saint bernard, she almost dropped where she stood. Her hands were shaking. Eret gave up trying to wring them. Squeezing them into a clutch, she barely felt her fingers go numb from lack of blood.

Foolish had talked genially about Bentley in the truck. He’d said how gentle and kind he was.

In the present, Eret stared at the huge dog that stepped into the house without a care. Foolish was taller than her and yet the dog easily came up past his hips. She had no doubt, if the dog were to stand on two legs, it would be taller than her.

The dog swayed into the house, his long sandy coat shimmering with every step. His head was huge, lips drooping with his open-mouthed pant. Those dark eyes settled on her and she took a stuttering step back.

“Eret, this is Bentley,” Foolish chirped, voice happy, entirely unaware of the panic that was sloshing through her veins. She could hear her heart’s lub-dub clearly in her ears. “His heart is bigger than he is, I promise. Though, last time we got him measured, he was around thirty-seven inches tall. Heh, that’s a pretty big heart if you think about it!”

Thirty-seven? That was about three foot!

The dog was the size of a large child.

Eret felt her throat start to quiver. She couldn’t have screamed even if she wanted to.

When Foolish looked up, his easy-going smile disappeared. He stepped over and grabbed Bentley by the collar. The dog stopped obediently, tail wagging slowly. It was staring at her.

“Hey, I know he’s big,” Foolish’s voice was soft; a murmur against the loud voices in the living room. “But he won’t hurt you. C’mere, come touch him. He doesn’t bite.”

She couldn’t move. Foolish’s eyes were soft. Her lungs felt too small. The dog was watching her.

“He’s real nice, aren’t you, Bentley?” Foolish diverted his gaze to the dog, whose tongue lolled out at the sound of his name. Eret watched, room spinning around her. She couldn’t… She couldn’t do this. The dog was huge. It probably weighed three times what she did. Twice what Foolish did! Yes, she’d known saint bernards grew big, but thirty-seven inches was a lot bigger than what she’d imagined. “Heart of gold, you have. Too slobbery and smiley to be scary. Heh, only person you’ve ever scared was the old dog walker.”

Dread flooded her. She understood what that meant. The dog walker hadn’t been able to cope, like her right now, and they’d gotten another one. That was what old meant. It meant replaced.

Her panic changed. She couldn’t lose this job. She couldn’t. She’d die.

Eret stepped forwards, and when the dog didn’t do anything but stare and Foolish didn’t even look up, she took another step closer. And, another. Then, another. She stopped right before the dog and finally, Foolish looked up.

He gawked. “Eret, hey, you don’t have to—”

She put her hand on the dog’s head. He was warm and soft and most importantly of all, he did not bite her. He didn’t bite her.

“Hi, Bentley,” she said, voice a little strained as she pushed it out of her. She had no time to go non-verbal, so it was best she made herself speak now than go mute and potentially lose her job. “You’re a real big guy.”

Foolish laughed with relief. “Yeah, he is. Aren’t you, Bentley? Such a big guy!”

Watching Foolish shake and ruffle the dog’s fur, Eret detached from the situation. She’d done it. She’d managed to keep her job. The day was saved and she only felt half like she was going to faint.

She came back to the dog licking her hand. He was watching her with big dark eyes that made her feel seen. This dog was watching her and he knew what was happening. Eret gaped down at him, like a fish out of water. She only settled back down, firmly in her own shoes, when the dog licked her again, his rugged tongue spreading warm saliva over her palm. His tongue was the width of her forearm.

Foolish appeared from the living room, corralling the pink dog into the hall. She hadn’t even noticed he was gone.

“This is Athena!” He introduced, pushing the pink husky towards her. He grinned, big and wide. “She’s pink after the two rascals in there had a prank war.”

Eret knelt to rub the husky’s head. Sure enough, past the dull pink fur, the dog’s roots were a mellow white. She was a very pretty dog, even dyed pink.

“Hi, Athena,” she mumbled, still feeling a little hazy. Bentley licked her hand again, and when she made to pull away from him, he stepped into her space and forced her onto her ass. Foolish gave a soft laugh, but was watching with hawk eyes as Bentley slobbered all over her. The saint bernard was huge, but soft.

The boys appeared in the doorway in the absence of their dog. Dream frowned at her. Technoblade was standing with a blank expression, looking carefully neutral.

“Hey!” Dream called, sounding a bit insecure. “Bentley’s my dog.”

“Oh,” she breathed, a bit overwhelmed by the onslaught of slobber and licking from the big guy but somehow very pleased at it all. She tried to nudge him back but he sat down heavily beside her and wouldn’t budge. “Sorry.”

Foolish waved at his brother. “Go back to your games, Dream. It’s not every day Bentley meets someone new.”

“He’s not meant to lick anyone else,” Dream huffed. He disregarded his brother’s words and stormed over, sitting down beside the dog, and awkwardly close to Eret herself. She blinked at him, wondering if he was jealous of the dog’s attention on her, and tried to back up to give him some room. Eret did not want to start a fight with her boss’s kid on the first day.

Surprisingly, when she shifted back, Bentley followed her. He stuck his big, wet nose in her face and rubbed her cheek insistently. She flailed, laughing softly as she tried to get away, and spied Technoblade leaning against the door. He looked a little pensive.

Uh oh. She took that to mean Dream wasn’t dealing with this too well, but when she glanced over to him, above Bentley’s floppy ears, she instead glimpsed him looking deep in thought.

When Bentley tried to clamber atop her, something which would almost certainly crush her like a grape under a boot, Foolish grabbed the dog’s collar and pulled him back. The man managed to hold the dog off her for long enough that Eret was able to get back onto her feet. Bentley stared after her with a forlorn look, which she could only chuckle at.

“We can’t do cuddles, big guy,” she said. “You’d squish me.”

Foolish rubbed the dog’s head and directed him towards Dream. He snorted a breath and padded over to lick at the boy’s hand, who seemed mildly upset now.

Brushing her clothes down, finding herself absolutely covered in the saint’s long hairs, Eret held her wet hand away from herself. The dog sure could drool.

“I’ll, uh, wash up,” she said to Foolish. “Then, we can go.”

The thought of being in a car spiked her anxiety again. Bentley turned to her and almost looked like he was about to walk over, before Dream started off towards the living room and called him to follow. Technoblade closed the door behind them, after Athena pranced in too.

“Sure,” Foolish smiled. “I’m glad he likes you.”

There was something odd in his voice that she glossed over. She didn’t want to push the topic and possibly invite him to ask why she’d been so scared of the big guy. She assumed he was speaking about the dog, because it sure didn’t look like Dream liked her.

And well, if Foolish thought that was his brother ‘liking’ her, she wouldn’t bring it up. She wasn’t in a position to disagree with her boss’s kids.

“I’ll, um, be back in a minute,” she said, and scrambled to go wash off the dog slobber.

Chapter Text

Foolish came back from college no earlier than usual. To his surprise, his dad was still in the kitchen, talking on the phone. She was usually gone by the time he made it home. From the sounds of it, her phone call was of medium importance; something she was entertaining because she had nothing pressing on her schedule. That meant it wasn’t an investor calling to pester her into attending a party or anything. In fact, Puffy was smiling.

She smiled a lot, his dad, but Foolish recognised that smile.

So, with her on the phone, he lingered in the kitchen and started cutting up some cheese and vegetables. Dream would probably bring Technoblade back and if there wasn’t something set out for them, they’d raid the cupboards and find them astonishingly empty. He needed to go shopping – something he’d found himself doing recently, with no maid to do it. The previous lady had been fired after he caught her pocketing money Puffy had left out for Dream’s lunch. The older woman who’d replaced her had retired almost a week into the job. That had been three months ago and Foolish had only managed to blackmail Dream into vacuuming once. Otherwise, it was all up to him.

When he turned around from lathering the food on a platter to set it on the island counter, Puffy hung up. She was still smiling.

“Alright,” he said. “Who are you adopting now? You do realise Phil’s already taken Techno.”

His dad grinned wider.

“Someone new, then,” he sighed. Puffy was somewhat of a serial adopter. She had the tendency to adopt those she hired. Dream had been lured in with cutting the grass and Foolish had been an apprentice plumber sent out to jobs on his own before she’d gotten her talons into him.

Obviously, Foolish loved Puffy. She cared in a way he’d never had any adult care for him.

When he’d been repeatedly called out to her house (she’d been breaking things on purpose), he’d thought she was some weird, eccentric millionaire who had nothing better to do than harass him (she always asked him questions when he worked). At some point, he’d grown comfortable with her, likely around a year in and the fifteenth visit, and when he’d lost his apartment, he’d felt safe enough to confide in her when he hadn’t told anyone else. She’d offered him a room in her huge house and three months later, she’d approached him with talk of adopting him. That had been four years ago.

Dream, on the other hand, had lived in the foster home a few blocks over. He’d been trying to save money for when he aged out of the system. His little brother had been going around and asking to cut people’s grass. Puffy had laid eyes on him and gotten the exact same smile Foolish hadn’t stopped seeing from her when she’d been trying to warm him up to her.

Puffy had the indiscernible eye for kids that needed a parent. He wasn’t quite sure what it was that she saw in them, but she hadn’t been wrong yet.

Foolish had mostly expected Dream to become part of the family. He’d been a bit unsure about it, but when the kid started coming over more often and actually showed he could be nice, Foolish hadn’t minded too much. Dream had a lot of issues, and they weren’t being taken care of in the foster home. Puffy had seen that. Fuck, Foolish had seen that and he usually looked the other way when the kid came in to sneak food out of the fridge.

Actually, Dream’s adoptiversary (adoption anniversary) was coming up soon. He’d been here for nearly two years. Foolish was brainstorming what to get him for it, since they usually gave gifts on most anniversaries. Puffy’s birthday was sooner, though, and he was trying to prioritise a gift for her so that he could switch his attention and start worrying about a gift for his little brother. Gifts were difficult.

“Someone’s taken the maid job,” Puffy said, practically bursting at the seams.

Foolish blinked. “What? Really? Even though you made it seem like you’re a slavedriver?”

Puffy tutted at his language but Foolish shrugged and started munching on some celery he’d cut. When she’d put up the job listing, he’d told her only crazy people would apply for it. Who in their right mind would want to cook, clean and adult-sit for a trashy salary, not to mention, actually have to live with them? Anyone applying would only do so to get into Puffy’s sights, he’d said.

Well, she’d turned away the three professional cooks who had applied, and disregarded a few cleaning companies who had offered to send over their best cleaners. Everyone wanted into Puffy’s home. The den of the lion was where they could get seen. It was a common tactic – get an easy job, excel in it and try to move up the company ranks. Never mind the fact that Puffy had listed the job as a private venture, based in her own house and not with one of her companies.

“They’re around your age,” which was crazy. Who was wanting to be a maid at twenty-four? All the ones they’d had prior had been old and wrinkled. Although, it explained why Puffy had that smile. No one would be applying for a job like this unless they were desperate, because the salary she’d listed for it was horrible. “And, from what Suzie says, they’re probably homeless.”

That made him pause. Foolish was well aware of the homelessness in Cali – he’d nearly succumbed to it, and Dream’s best friend, Technoblade, had been on the streets for a short while before he’d been relocated to his current home. Philza was currently in the process of adopting Techno, and using his money to try and speed it up. That sort of thing took ages in the current system. Puffy had helped him out with the judge who’d fast tracked her past applications, but it was slow going.

“What if they’re an addict?” He asked. The last thing they needed was someone stealing the cabinet pills. And for someone to have taken the job, they had to be on something. No one was that crazy when sober.

“Suzie wouldn’t have called if she didn’t know they were a good fit,” Puffy said. Suzie had been her personal secretary up until three years ago, where the woman had left to start her own business. She knew Puffy well.

“Alright,” Foolish sighed. “When are they coming?”

“In an hour or two,” his dad smiled. “I’ll try to give them a tour before I have to go, but you might have to pick up my slack.”

“Sure,” he said, hand reaching out to find no celery. He looked down and found he’d eaten it all. Whoops. Dream and Techno would just have to deal with the cucumber and cheese. Hopefully, Puffy didn’t eat everything on the board.

Luckily for his dad, Foolish had time to tour the maid around. He’d finished college for the summer, with the exception for a re-do exam he had to take in a month. The initial one had been in January, but he’d been forced to take it off due to sickness. Not his own sickness; his little brother’s. Dream’s anxiety was an on-and-off issue and sometimes, if all the factors aligned, he could be house-bound and almost crippled by his abandonment issues and how overwhelming everything was. He didn’t mind staying home for his baby brother.

They’d gotten Bentley around the time Dream had become a commodity around the house, with the large saint bernard a trained anxiety service dog – he was trained to ‘alert’ his owner when they were feeling too anxious, and he usually did this by licking. Bentley was quite the licker around Dream, though Foolish had received a few from the big guy. The saint’s usual greeting was a big head nuzzle. The licking was solely reserved for anxious people.

In January, Bentley hadn’t stopped licking Dream. He’d barked too – a sign it was really bad. The amount of times Foolish had seen Bentley trip Dream and force him to sit down couldn’t be counted on one or two or three hands, but he’d seen it the most during that bad period.

Speaking of bad, Eret didn’t seem too bad.

They were a bit scruffy, but Foolish had seen worse (the dogwalker wasn’t exactly a looker), and it was evident they were trying. He stepped in and gave them a tour when Puffy had to dip, though he’d stood at the top of the stairs and listened to most of their conversation. Okay, yeah, he’d listened to it all.

Reserved, shy and jumpy; she’d skirted around his introductory questions with long hums and soft nods. When he’d reached forward to open a door for her from behind, she’d flinched and stepped to the side in such a rush that Foolish had thought she’d fallen over.

At some point, she stopped speaking all together and he had to start watching her for reactions. He’d kinda felt like he was talking to a wall, but his past experience with his little brother had made him aware of situations like these — when Dream got too nervous, he stopped speaking because he stuttered, and he found that embarrassing. Maybe, Eret was the same and didn’t want to appear nervous on her first day. Or, she could be like Techno, who seemed to have an allotted daily word count that he clammed up after hitting.

It was fine. Foolish wasn’t too worried. He didn’t know Eret and Eret didn’t know him. First day worries could get the best of even him. With this in mind, he noted but didn’t mention any of Eret’s oddities. He wouldn’t have mentioned them anyways (except to Puffy, who was getting a long summary text of all the things that had happened after she’d left). Foolish was good like that.

He drove them to the shop and let them flutter about, piling the cart with everything that had been put on that shopping list. Foolish threw in extras where he saw fit, noticing how Eret watched but didn’t complain. She seemed awkward – there had been a few times during the house tour and during the ride over where she’d looked like she wanted to speak but hadn’t. Even at the start, where she’d been more talkative.

That old lady at the fish stand had made her stand a little smaller. Whatever she’d said, Eret hadn’t appreciated. Foolish had been annoyed too, because he’d just gotten them speaking again after they’d apologised for rambling (which they hadn’t been, Foolish was a rambler and never in a million years would he have given that title to quiet Eret). They’d even shot him an odd look when he asked about the fish lady.

Whatever. Eret was an adult. She could do adult things without Foolish’s input. Just because Puffy wanted to adopt her already didn’t mean he had to act all protective over her like he did for Dream. Though... he kinda wanted to. She had that little lamb energy around her that made him want to make her smile.

They’d come out of their shell soon enough. Puffy would see to that – when that old woman put her mind to something, no one could stop her. If she wanted to adopt Eret, she’d be in the family register by Thanksgiving.

After having watched them buzz about all day like a nervous fly, Foolish hadn’t been too surprised when Eret looked ready to collapse at seeing Bentley. He’d been worried, yeah, but usually people reacted with surprise when they met Bentley for the first time. He was a big dog. Most people didn’t believe the pictures and had quite the shock when the big guy rolled up, at the height where a head-butt could significantly reduce someone’s hopes for having kids.

Bentley liked Eret, because the big guy liked everyone. What Foolish hadn’t been prepared for, was how many times Bentley alerted when he finally got over to her. He’d put her on the ground in the insistent way Foolish had only ever seen the dog act like with Dream when he was having a bad anxiety attack. That had worried him.

The big guy’s alert system had four levels; a lick meant they were anxious, a nose-smush meant (with Dream) that it was time for everyone else in the room to worry, being pushed onto the ground usually indicated it was sit down or faint time and him putting his head in someone’s lap meant it was nap time (because sleeping sometimes helped Dream manage his anxiety). Bentley had done the first three with someone he’d just met. Foolish understood the first day jitters thing, but for Bentley to have alerted so much, it meant Eret likely had underlying issues.

Puffy always had an eye.

Eret was none the wiser. Technoblade had wisely been quiet, knowing what everything meant because he was Dream’s best friend. His younger brother had looked only a little betrayed that his dog was more interested in alerting for someone else.

But, y’know what, it was fine. Eret was strolling about with worrisome levels of anxiety and had a tendency to look like a kicked puppy if Foolish spoke too loud. But. She was walking and talking and not asking to sit down, not telling him to shut up, not curling up into a ball and crying when the static on the radio made her jump and a truck in front blared the horn at another vehicle. It wasn’t Foolish’s business if she didn’t ask for help. Yet. It wasn’t his business yet.

(The part of him that was a caring older brother thought that possibly, he could make it his business now.)

He was surprised at himself. He hadn’t gotten so attached to Dream as early as this. Maybe because the brat had been all growls and harsh words whereas Eret was like a mouse hiding under a bit of cheese? That was a cute image... Eret really was like a mouse: nervous and squeaky and unable to sit still.

Hmmm. Whatever it was, mouse or not, something in the way Eret acted and spoke and breathed made Foolish want to set a hand on her head and tell her to sleep.

Life shouldn’t be this bothersome, he wanted to tell her. Take a nap, kiddo.

She was only a year younger than him. Was it weird if he called her that? Kiddo. Would they mind? Dream hadn’t been big on pet names at the start and it was still a chore to introduce new ones. Foolish hoped she liked cute names, because his brain was going like a blur as it thought up a ton of ones to describe her.

Seeing Bentley try to smother her just had his brotherly instincts flaring up. He couldn’t be so attached to someone he’d only met less than two hours ago... it was probably because of how Bentley was acting so familiar with her. It must’ve been making him think of Dream. And he was associating those brotherly feelings with Eret. Yeah.

Yeah. That was it. Definitely.

Yeah...

Getting things moving again hadn’t taken too long. Before he knew it, Foolish was pulling Bentley away and Eret was slinking off to wash away the copious amounts of dog slobber.

As he waited for her, he got a text. It was from Puffy.

Anything interesting? She’d sent.

Chewing on the inside of his cheek, he listened to the running water in the kitchen and the low chatter of the boys in the living room. He could hear Techno’s low rumble, likely consoling a slightly upset Dream. The soft humming coming from the kitchen contrasted the low noise greatly. At least, someone was happy.

Yup, he typed back. Will give update latr. She’s met Dee an Tech plus dogs. Bent likes her.

The three dots at the bottom of the screen were instant the moment he’d sent that message.

Puffy responded: Knew he would.

Of course, he thought. Of course, she would.

His dad had an uncanny eye for these things.

A few moments later, Eret appeared beside him. She was significantly less covered in dog hair and had rubbed her hands red.

He grinned at her and found her smiling back. Seeing Bentley had cheered her up, after she’d gotten over the initial scare. She’d looked seconds away from fainting when he’d first introduced the saint to her.

The expression had scared him. How many others had seen her look so fearful? If she’d been on the streets for a while, he shuddered to think of what she’d seen. Foolish knew Techno had a few horror stories and he hadn’t been out for a long time at all.

He thought back to that expression in his truck as they rolled up outside the storage facility. Eret was practically vibrating beside him, breathing a little wobbly. Either she was nervous about getting her stuff, or there was a significant effect that being in a truck had on her. Recalling how she’d been on the way to and back from the store, Foolish was inclined to think there was a bit of driving anxiety, even when she wasn’t driving.... Passenger anxiety?

Anyways, Foolish hadn’t been lying when he said Puffy had stuff to pick up – this was just another one of her companies. She owned a lot of small things throughout the country, though she tended to put more work into her bigger businesses. This storage company was just another bullet point on the income list.

Eret was still nervous when they got out. Foolish could tell, having quickly noticed the way they held themself. He had a feeling Bentley would be attached to her side when they got home. She looked like she was trying to self-soothe by jiggling her feet, but her tight expression suggested it wasn’t working.

After having watched and assessed the situation, Foolish decided to strike up a conversation with the hopes it would distract her. That, and he also had legitimate questions. He’d been chattering nonstop in the truck, but after a long silence at a few questions, he’d assumed she’d zoned out and had continued rambling. His ability to talk to himself so well was what made his streams so lively — a hobby he’d get to indulge in more often with no classes to attend.

“Do you have a lot of stuff to grab?”

They flinched at his voice. Foolish hadn’t thought he’d spoken that loud – he sometimes had a bit of an issue with regulating his voice. He mentally replayed himself and was pretty sure this was just their nerves manifesting.

“Oh,” Eret seemed to breathe a little deeper when she seen him. That had him paying attention. Had he caught her zoning out again? Was there a healthy amount for someone to zone out? How many times was too many, because he was sure that was twice in the last few minutes... assuming she’d snapped out of the one she’d been in for the journey over.

However, she looked far too stressed to be lost in thought.

A thought struck him. Was Eret prone to dissociating? Dream sometimes did, and usually Foolish could coax him back. Most of the time, it was Bentley sitting with his younger brother that helped. Bentley always tried to be close to Dream when that happened.

Earlier, at the house, Bentley had tried to sit on Eret. Not thinking much of it, he’d dragged him away from her before the big guy could scare away the only person to have honestly applied for the job in months. Had Foolish misinterpreted that and the dog had actually been trying to alert for an episode?

“Uh,” Eret was speaking, so he refocused on them. She popped her knuckles one by one and then grimaced. “Not too much. It could fit in the backseats, to be honest. What do you need?”

“Ah, a few things from the office,” he said. Foolish shrugged, because it wasn’t a big deal. Eret gave him a confused look, but he wasn’t entirely sure if he should tell her that she’d likely paid half her wages to the family that were now paying her those wages back. That sounded a bit awkward. He’d let her figure it out. “Just paperwork stuff.”

“I have to get my keys from the office,” Eret piped up. “I left them here for safekeeping last time.”

“Okay. To the office, we go,” he nodded, already leading the way. The storage facility was surrounded by tall metal fencing that opened at a large gateway for moving vehicles and a smaller civilian gate that was closer in size to a normal doorway.

On their side of the civilian gate, there was a security guard. He wore the usual black shirt with security printed over the front. His sunglasses made him look very professional in the warm Cali sun.

When they approached the mini-gate, the guard had them stop. He stepped over and performed a brief pat down. He wasn’t very thorough, but then, they didn’t expect mass violence in storage bins. Foolish knew security was ramped up when there were auctions held on the weekends. Also, the guy literally went to school with him, so Foolish felt like he was given the light pat down because of that. Why would the boss’s son try to steal from the place?

“Good to go, sir,” the guard said, making him stand away from Eret as he turned to her. The man gave Eret the same pat down he’d given Foolish, though he was obviously a bit more sensitive around her chest and lower areas. Lawsuits could be nasty and a guy didn’t need a harassment suit over the head of being a simple guard.

Still, Eret was stiff. Foolish wanted to tell her to relax, that her standing with that expression made her look suspicious.

He didn’t though. Eret almost looked a moment away from crying. He didn’t want the new maid crying on her first day. She’d already passed the introduction to Dream test (an obvious pass because Dream hadn’t thrown any insults her way) and it was difficult to get people that his younger brother was okay with from the start.

Plus, he was almost afraid that if he mentioned it, she would cry. Foolish didn’t want Eret to cry, not when that could spiral off into something worse. Her anxiety was playing up and Foolish knew what could go wrong when a breaking point came.

“Continue on,” the guard stepped away from her. Eret slipped in through the gate without a word.

Foolish set the pace when she stood at his side. He wasn’t sure if she wanted to talk, but he struck up a random conversation about the on-coming heatwave. The pool was a pain in the ass to clean and he told her that, knowing everyone would be using it regularly soon enough.

Dream and Technoblade would be out on school break in a few weeks. Though he mentioned this too, Foolish kept to himself his hopes for them to keep out of her hair. It was her first day – they didn’t need to be warned about how much his brother could be a pain in the ass if he wanted to be. He’d do his bit and tell the kids not to start any prank wars with Eret being so new. Dream would understand since it had taken so long to get a maid again after the last. Or, he hoped his brother would.

Foolish knew Dream wouldn’t be the one vacuuming if Eret quit. Dream knew it, too.

The office was at the head of the building. Foolish led the way, knocking on the door before stepping in. It was a small but spacious room, with a half-wall dividing the office workers from anyone waiting to speak with them. There was a small red couch sat in the corner, with a low table heaped with magazines in front of it. The tv hung on the wall was playing the news.

“Hi, Foolish,” the woman at the chair closest to the divider said. “What brings you here?”

Usually, his dad’s employees didn’t all know him by face, but a lot of these people had been his high school classmates. He’d suggested to those he’d been good friends with to apply over here, when it had come under his dad’s management. They’d all been struggling for jobs and though they’d drifted apart over the years, Foolish felt comfortable with the familiar faces.

“Hey, Peggy,” he smiled. Eret shuffled into the office with him and all the women’s eyes zipped straight to her. Suzie had given Puffy a rundown on Eret, which his dad had given him; Eret was fem-presenting, and her pronouns were listed as she/they, but aside from that, the rest of her private life was undisclosed. What these office workers seen was a brunette with choppy hair and who was very obviously fem-presenting. Some of them had a tendency to flirt with Foolish, so he wasn’t too sure how they’d react with Eret.

“I’m here for some documents but I can wait,” he turned to Eret and grinned. She was fidgeting worse than ever under the stares of the six workers but the lighting in here made her seem almost tan. It was good to see her with some life in her skin. Under the LED lights of home, she looked like a piece of paper. She was certainly thin enough to be one. “You need your key, Eret?”

“Um,” she perked up at the prospect of having something to do. “Yeah,” then, directed at Peggy, “I’ve got a small bin – Alastair Brine.”

Peggy nodded along and typed into her computer. It was obvious she didn’t think Eret owned it – one time he’d been down, he’d witnessed someone trying to get into their father’s bin and being kicked out because they didn’t have ID.

Foolish blinked. Shit, he hadn’t asked if Eret had ID.

The typing stopped. Foolish was sure Peggy was going to turn Eret away and that would just be awkward.

“What number?” He asked.

Eret spoke the same time that Peggy read the screen. “One-twelve.”

Peggy blinked. Foolish caught her eye.

“Yeah,” the woman said, offering Eret a smile. “We’ve got your key in the back. Do you need me to grab anything for you, Foolish?”

“Nah, it’s fine,” he waved her off. Trixie, another worker who’d been sitting at a desk further away, straightened up a large lump of paper and stood, bringing it with her.

Peggy gestured for Eret to come around the divider. “You need to sign a few things, Alastair.”

As Peggy disappeared into the side room to get Eret’s keys, with Eret in tow, Trixie pushed the five-inch thick stack his way. The three rubber bands around it all looked ready to snap. “These are the seasonal projection documents,” she sighed. “Sorry Brian didn’t have them ready when that guy came down last week.”

“It’s fine,” he smiled. “Just try to be on time next collection.”

Usually, Puffy had people go around her businesses and compile their projected incomes, losses, expenditures and stuff like that. It usually all went to her accounting team, who dealt with any oddities or brought forward issues in the writeups to her. Foolish hadn’t intended to involve himself, but he could dump the stuff on his dad’s desk and call her to arrange someone to come and pick it up. Eret needing to come here had just reminded him of the issue – Puffy had been annoyed three of her places hadn’t coughed up the documents at the bi-annual deadline, because that usually meant her accountants had to nag her to send out more people and everything was slowed down.

Foolish didn’t really understand why his dad couldn’t put someone else in charge of making sure the reports were collected, or maybe for pushing the collections to an online platform (though, that would require a better, hack-proof system) but he didn’t bother pushing it. For all she tried to be perfect, his dad’s hands-on-nature sometimes impeded things. She liked to be in the thick of it, kept up to date on what was happening.

“Are there any fees on Eret’s bin?” He asked.

Trixie peered at the computer screen. “Uh, yeah. If they cancel it now, there’ll be cancellation fees.”

“Charge them to me,” he said and brandished his card. Trixie seemed quite shocked for a moment before doing just that.

A few minutes later, with Foolish’s card safely in his wallet again, Eret and Peggy emerged from the back. Eret had a small red key in her hands and looked a little harrowed. He smiled at her and grabbed his papers.

“We good to go?” He asked, eager to get things moving. Foolish was starting to get hungry.

Nodding along, Eret stared at the stack of paper like it had grown a head. Her eyes flicked from him, to the paper, to Trixie as she went back to her seat, then came back to alternate between Foolish and his surprisingly heavy cargo. The lightbulb was slowly flicking on.

Before she could ask him, Peggy chirped a loud farewell. Foolish turned and headed for the exit, which Eret scurried ahead to hold open for him.

“I’ll go dump these in the truck,” he said, not wanting to cart it all about. It was also a small diversion – Eret’s bin was likely a state if she’d had it for as long as her overdue fees had suggested. “And, I think I’ll drive it up to the loading bays.”

“I don’t have that much,” Eret repeated. Foolish shrugged and told her to go on, which she did with a bit of hesitance.

The guard, Marco, opened the gate for him to get through, and then opened the bigger gate to let Foolish in with his truck. He should’ve pulled the truck into the place the first time, but he’d been angsty to get out after driving for close to an hour.

The open-air design of the storage bin place let him drive up to Eret’s bin without issue. It was one of the smaller ones, and as he drove up, he saw she’d opened the shutter to reveal a very meagre haul.

Hopping out, Foolish opened the trunk and strode over to help. Eret had picked up a book from an open box and was flicking through it.

“Anything fragile in here?” He asked.

His words made Eret look at him, though she seemed a little distant and took a moment to respond, “I don’t think so.”

“’Kay,” he shrugged. “I’ll help you load up.”

“Thank you.” The book was set back into the box. As she unfolded the lid, Foolish took a glance around. Eret didn’t have much in the storage bin, although the small room had been packed to the half-way line. This was the smallest bin one could get, Foolish knew. It was kind of sad that all of Eret’s belongings could fit into fifteen cardboard boxes.

Turning to a stack of boxes, Foolish dipped to grab the bottom box and rose with all of them, lifting his surprisingly light haul over to the truck. With how little Eret had, the trunk seemed huge in comparison.

Eret brought over a plastic tub. “This one’s fragile,” she said.

“Okay,” Foolish peered at it. The plastic was see-through. Was that a playstation console? “If we put everything in the trunk, that could go in the backseat?”

Mumbling in agreement, Eret disappeared around the side of the truck, putting her game console on the floor behind her seat. Foolish continued to pack the storage space with the boxes, feeling a small sense of dismay at how light some of them were. There was no bed, no seats or a table; Eret had nothing but boxes that were likely filled with clothes, books and utensils.

Judging from the dust on the floor, these things had been in storage for a while. Foolish mulled over what to say, but eventually decided not to comment.

“I could’ve sworn there was a fee to break contract,” Eret mumbled as they grabbed the last box. Foolish made sure everything was secure in the trunk before closing it up.

“I dunno,” he shrugged. Puffy would deal with it and he’d have his money back in a few hours. She’d probably put it down as a house expenditure – he knew she’d move mountains to make sure Eret stayed with them. Once his dad got her eye on someone, she didn’t let them go. “If that’s us, I can leave your key into the office for you.”

“Oh,” Eret blinked at him. The sky was changing to a beautiful red and it made her eyes glow. “You don’t have to…”

“I want to. C’mon,” he slipped the key out of her shaking hand and told her to wait in the truck. Eret couldn’t protest, as he was already walking away.