When my brother asked me for a favor, I agreed because someone I loved was depending on me. But not long after I arrived at his house, I found something waiting in the kitchen that made me question exactly how much he thought my help was worth.
My brother called me on a Tuesday night and opened with, “So, how’s the apartment hunt going?”
My grip tightened around the phone.
Ryan already knew exactly how it was going, which immediately made me wonder what he wanted.
I’d moved out of my apartment in March and had been staying with a friend while searching for something permanent.
“Slowly. Why?”
“Because, listen, Steph and I are going to Portugal. Ten days. And I really don’t want to board the dogs. Bear’s too old for that now.”
***There it was.***
Ryan had mentioned my housing situation at nearly every family gathering since March, usually in front of everyone and always in that fake-concerned tone.
Now it sounded less like concern and more like groundwork.
“I’d have to check my shifts,” I said.
“It’s not exactly work, though, is it?” he replied. “You’d be staying in the house. Four bedrooms, the yard, the whole place to yourself.”
Then he added, “Honestly, you’d probably be doing yourself more of a favor than us.”
***I almost laughed.***
Ryan had two dogs.
Bear was a 12-year-old Rottweiler who needed medication twice a day. Nell was a spaniel terrified of the kitchen floor who needed encouragement every time she crossed it.
Between them, they needed four walks a day.
Ryan’s house was also 40 minutes from my workplace, in completely the wrong direction.
None of that sounded like a vacation.
***But then I thought about Bear.***
I’d known him since he was eight weeks old, and I knew he wouldn’t settle well with strangers.
So I agreed.
“Ah, you’re a lifesaver,” Ryan said. “Seriously, you’re saving us about $600.”
I should have remembered those exact words.
Instead, I told him I’d arrive after work on Friday.
***When I pulled up that evening, Ryan and Steph were already on their way to the airport.***
The dogs went wild the second I opened the door.
Bear lumbered toward me, his tail banging against the wall, while Nell skidded to a stop just before the kitchen tiles.
For about thirty seconds, everything felt completely normal.
Then I walked into the kitchen.
The spare key sat on the island beside a laminated sheet of paper.
***Ryan had actually laminated it.***
At first, I assumed it was the dogs’ feeding schedule.
Then I read it.
Coffee: $0.60 per cup.
Bread: $0.40 per slice.
Eggs: $0.50 each.
Laundry, including detergent and electricity: $2 per load.
***Then came my favorite.***
Showers longer than ten minutes: $1.50.
At the bottom, in Ryan’s handwriting, he’d added:
“Just keep a running total and we’ll settle up when we’re back!”
I stood there with my overnight bag still hanging from one shoulder until Bear nudged my hand.
“Apparently your dad thinks I’m running up a hotel bill,” I muttered.
***Then I called Ryan.***
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“Did you leave something on the kitchen island?”
“Oh, the list?” He laughed. “Yeah. You found it?”
“I found it.”
“Don’t make it weird. It’s just so nobody ends up out of pocket.”
***I stared at the laminated sheet.***
“I’m doing ten days of unpaid work in your house.”
“You’re staying rent-free in a four-bedroom house, Julia.”
I pulled the phone away from my ear for a second.
“I was asked to dog-sit, not rent a room.”
“And I’m not charging you rent, am I? Just for what you use. That’s fair.”
***Then I heard him turn away from the phone.***
His voice became muffled, but not muffled enough.
“She’s doing the thing. No. She’s doing the thing.”
I knew Steph was beside him.
“The thing?” I asked.
“What?”
“You just said I’m doing the thing.”
Ryan sighed. “Julia, we’re literally at the gate. Can we not turn this into some giant drama?”
“I’m not turning anything into anything.”
“Good. Then just keep track. It’s pennies, basically.”
“Right.”
“Bear’s medication is in the fridge.”
“I know.”
“And Nell sometimes won’t eat unless Bear starts first.”
“I know that too.”
“Great. Thanks again. You’re saving us a fortune.”
That sentence landed very differently the second time.
Before I could answer, he said they were boarding and hung up.
***For a few minutes, I seriously considered packing my bag and leaving.***
But Bear needed his medication that night, and whatever I thought about Ryan, the dogs hadn’t laminated anything.
So I stayed.
And I did the full ten days properly.
Every morning and evening, Bear got his medication hidden inside cheese because he’d spit the pill out otherwise.
I walked both dogs four times a day, rain or shine: before work, after work, before dinner, and once more before bed.
My commute became absurd.
I woke up earlier, drove forty minutes toward work, finished my shift, drove back, walked the dogs, fed them, cleaned up, then did it all again the next day.
> ***Nell refused to cross the kitchen floor at least twice a day, and Bear shed enough fur to build a second Bear.***
I vacuumed both couches twice during the week.
And every time I made coffee, I looked at Ryan’s laminated list.
So I kept a running total exactly as he’d requested.
One coffee: $0.60.
A splash of milk: $0.30.
Two slices of toast: $0.80.
***I even timed my showers.***
On Wednesday, I went eleven minutes.
So I wrote down $1.50.
By Friday night, the whole thing had started becoming funny.
Ryan kept sending pictures from Portugal: beaches, cocktails, Steph beside the pool.
Under one photo, he wrote, “Dogs behaving?”
I replied, “Perfectly.”
***He responded with a thumbs-up. No mention of the list. Barely even a thank-you.***
They were due home Sunday around 4:30 P.M.
For Complete Cooking STEPS Please Head On Over To Next Page Or Open button (>) and don’t forget to SHARE with your Facebook friends.
