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.***