Chapter 137
Arlo’s snore sounded like a chainsaw. While he slept, Vivian continued to run her hand over his soft fur, enjoying the company that demanded nothing in return. She didn’t have to try and fit in, or be polite, or worry that the family would reject her by the end of the day.
For quite some time, she sat with the snoring dog. She could heard the distant sound of conversations and laughter through the open doors, but for the most part the room remained relatively quiet — if you ignored the chainsaw Arlo was using in his sleep.
After a while, Vivian phone began to buzz. Curious, she took it out and watched as her family group chat started blowing up.
Samuel: \[Vivian, where did you end up? I’ve been looking for you, but no one seems to have seen you in a while.\]
Laurent: \[I’m with the kids and she hasn’t been through. Maybe she found a quiet corner somewhere?\]
It amused her to find Laurent was still with the kids, and that he’d guessed correctly, though she’d stumbled upon the room by pure accident. The only reason she’d stayed was because of Arlo.
Sebastian: \[I’ll go check the garage where Gabriel is… He said she enjoyed hanging out and watching him work on his piece of crap car.\]
A few minutes later another message came in from the eldest brother.
Sebastian: \[Hasn’t seen her either, and wants me to make sure you all know I offended him with my piece of crap car comment.\]
Sebastian: \[Now he’s saying if we message the chat enough maybe she’ll get annoyed and check her phone faster.\]
Samuel: \[Sebastian.\]
Sebastian: \[I smacked him for the comment.\]
Samuel: \[Thank you.\]
Laurent: \[So what’s the plan? Wait til she responds or send out a search party?\]
The feeling of amusement from reading their conversation was beginning to die down, so Vivian did the first thing that came to mind.
Vivian: \[User sent an Audio File.\]
She waited, and waited some more until, finally, someone responded.
Laurent: \[… Vivian… are you using a chainsaw?\]
Sebastian: \[That’s not a chainsaw. Maybe a motor?\]
Samuel: \[I think it’s snoring?\]
Sebastian: \[Vivian, why are you sending us an audio file of someone snoring? Why are you with someone who’s snoring?\]
Sebastian: \[Gabriel needs to learn how use speech to text, but says, ‘WTF?’\]
Laurent: \[Hahahahaha. She found Arlo. Oscar recognized his snore.\]
Samuel: \[Where’s Arlo?\]
Laurent: \[I don’t know, and Oscar is adamant he doesn’t know, because his mom would go crazy if he did.\]
Samuel: \[Vivian?\]
Vivian: \[Lol. I don’t know what room this is, but it’s got an entire wall of windows. I’ve been here since Oscar ran off so his mom wouldn’t find him.\]
Laurent: \[Figures. Little liar. I’ll get him for that.\]
Now that they knew where she could be found, Vivian set down her phone and refocused her attention on the dog. Knowing her father, it wouldn’t be long before he appeared and, most likely, dragged her back to meet more people.
Her prediction turned out to be true, as Samuel appeared less than five minutes later. He stopped just in the door, and watched her for a moment before speaking. “I see you’ve made a friend.”
“No offence, but he’s the best family member I’ve met today,” she told her father with a sheepish look.
Samuel moved next to her, crouching down to give the dog a quick pat. “He’s spoiled rotten, but the sweetest dog I’ve ever met. I didn’t know you liked dogs.”
Vivian shrugged. “I’ve never really dealt with them before, but I like this one well enough. I won’t have to clean up his drool, right…?” The pool had only grown since she’d arrived, and the thought of being responsible for it was not a fun one.
“Don’t worry about that. Sunny has the full staff here today, what with all the people. They’ll take care of it.”
Full staff? Vivian knew the family was wealthy, but hiring staff on a holiday made it somehow feel even more real. Because this big ass house didn’t scream ‘I’m rich’, I needed to hear about the staff for it to sink in? Nice, Vivian. Nice.
“Come on. The meal is going to be served soon. I’ll show you where you’ll be eating.”
“…I won’t be eating with you?” She asked as Samuel offered his hand and helped her regain her feet.
“With the amount of people here, we don’t all fit in the same room, so it’s divided between adults and children. If you haven’t graduated high school you’re considered a child, and sit at the kids’ table. Some of the parents will sit with their children, though, so it’s not all kids…”
Vivian let out a small sigh of relief. None of the children she’d met that day seemed to care about getting to know her better, while the adults — though polite — always wanted to ask questions and hold a proper conversation. “The kids’ table is perfect. Laurent should be there, anyway, right?”
“He is the unofficial babysitter at these things, even when they specifically hire nannies to keep the kids entertained. He says the kids aren’t boring like the adults.”
“I can see that,” Vivian nodded, thinking back to stumbling across Oscar whispering ‘soft pets for soft dogs’. It was the one line she knew she’d remember for years to come. So sweet, so innocent… and then the fear in the boy’s eyes when his mother was about to catch him red handed? Laurent was definitely onto something by sticking with the children.
The kids’ table ended up looking like a lot more fun than the adults’. Lots of laughter, giggles, and loud, unintelligible chatter filled the air as Vivian sat next to Laurent, who’d saved her a seat. “Welcome to the messy table,” he told her, mouth in a hard line.
“Probably for the best,” she sighed, as she spotted the multiple forks, spoons and knives. “They won’t judge me for not knowing what thing is for what.”
Laurent followed her gaze and the corner of his mouth twitched. “It’s pretty simple. Work your way inward with each course.”
“Course? There’s going to be more than one?”
“Of course there is,” he chided his sister with a pointed look. “Did you not notice the type of house this is? Sunny does nothing halfway.”
“…what if I can’t finish everything on my plate?” Vivian asked in a low voice, now worried. In every home she’d lived, there had been one consistent rule, and that was to clean your plate before leaving the table.
“Then you don’t. No-one will care. If there’s something you don’t like, you can tell the staff, or just not eat it, too. Or feed it to Arlo when he makes his rounds; the kids stuff him full of everything they can sneak off their plates.”
Vivian looked around the room for a moment. Everyone there looked so happy, smiles on everyone’s faces as people found their seats. There were over thirty people sitting at the table, half of whom were under the age of ten while the rest were a mix of teens and a smattering of adults to accompany their child. She could pick out the four nannies that weren’t part of the family by what they wore — red shirts with the words ‘We Give Thanks to our Nannies’ scrawled across the back in bold lettering. “Sunny really goes all out…”