“Those are good. Is this a shoes on or shoes off house? My studio is mostly shoes on. But I grew up in adon’t carehouse. With all the pretty stuff in here, I feel like maybe shoes off?” I suggested, writing all these down on my phone.
“Off. Hale’s already tracking in dirt with his boots. We can get the nice shoe racks to put by the door to organize it neatly,” she added, sipping her tea.
“That makes sense. We need a coat rack too. I can get one anddrill it into the garage, but maybe we want a pretty one for the foyer, or by the door.”
“I like that as well. Or perhaps hooks over the shoe rack. We’ll probably need chore rotations even if we hire someone. You don’t ask someone to do things you can do yourself,” she added, eating more soup.
“My moms say the same. Yeah, we need to figure out who takes out the trash, who cleans up, who cooks. Though I wouldn’t mind adding someone to the budget to scrub the toilets, mop the floors, and vacuum the fancy rug. Maybe do the laundry we don’t care if other people handle?” I replied.
“Dust the knick-knacks that are inevitably going to appear,” she laughed.
“It sounds like fun in here.” Carlos came in, bare-chested. “You made food?”
“I made my mate some soup, but you’re welcome to have some,” I replied.
“Oh, I want some soup. Please?” Fiona joined him, slipping her arm around his waist.
“Is someone roasting a chicken? What I wouldn’t do for a nice roasted chicken with that crispy golden skin.” Hale looked around.
“Chicken soup with rice. Everyone can have some.” I grabbed Saoirse’s bowl and got her another helping before they ate it all, glad I already put a small container of it in the fridge and labeled it with her name.
“What are you talking about?” Fiona sat down and eyed my fancy water.
“We're coming up with house rules, such as label your shit if it’s not for everybody,” Saoirse added. “Oh, regarding chores, we’ll need to come up with consequences.”
“Can we not spank or beat the shit out of people who break pack rules?” Hale grabbed a beer and plopped down.
“I don’t want to know.” Carlos shook his head.
Fiona looked at me. “It just seems weird to label things.”
“Well, then you can’t be upset if other people consume it,” Saoirse replied.
“You can always make yourself a special stash someplace. Like having a mini fridge in your room. That’s what I do at my place, so my housemates don’t eat my shit.” Hale shoveled soup in his mouth.
“Good idea.” Saoirse nodded.
“If we can afford a cleaner, even if it’s somebody that just comes once or twice a week, I would like that. I speak purely as a college student who lives with a whole bunch of alpha housemates who don’t know how to scrub toilets,” Hale added. “I do, but I don’t want to always be on toilet duty “
“That’s fair,” Carlos said. “I don’t mind taking out the trash, but I like that idea.”
“These are all great,” I replied.
“Honestly, I don’t know what I’m gonna be able to contribute. I’m just afraid there won’t be enough hours in the day to work and go to school and do my research. And I might not have the time to do a bulk of the cooking or laundry, or whatever it is I would do instead.” Hale frowned.
“It’s really good to talk about things like this,” I replied. “For now, don’t worry about it. Why don’t we see what happens with your PhD program, first?”
“We’re here for you. We’ll get everything and we’ll get it figured out,” Carlos added.
“Thanks.” Hale looked relieved.
“That’s what packs are for,” I added.
We had a pack. Wow.
Chapter Forty-Six
Fiona
