A Reluctant Family

Mark cleared his throat as he started fiddling with his plate. "So. Do you need anything?" he asked. He picked up half of his sandwich and dipped it in the soup. "Like clothes or hygiene stuff or... toys?" He took a bite as he waited for Gwen's answer, the warm cheese coming out in long, gooey strings despite his best efforts to be neat.
 
Gwen said after her chewing her food properly and swallow her first bite of her cheese sandwich dipped in the soup, "I would like a school to go to since I am about to start the 2nd grade really soon. I really enjoy it so much here already. Maybe a pet to call my very own to talk to when you are busy I can talk to the pet."
 
"You're already enrolled in the school here. That was part of the fostering agreement," Mark said, wondering what kid actually asked to go to school. "You'll be starting the day after tomorrow so you have time to get settled." He paused and dealt with some cheese strings. "We'll talk about the pet thing later. You can talk to Gruff and Glump for now, if you want. Anything else?"
 
Gwen smiles, "No sir. I don't. I appreciate all you have done for me so far. I must tell you that I am allergic to yams, cranberry sauce, and pies. They make me get a gag look on my face."
She continues to eat after saying what she is allergic to and doesn't throw a tantrum while having dinner.
 
Mark gave her a puzzled look. "Pies? You're going to have to be more specific than that. There are a lot of types of pies. Surely you cannot be allergic to all pies."
 
Gwen said after her swallowed some of her soup, "Mainly fruit pies. They make me more nervous than I am at a spelling bee."
 
Mark finished his sandwich and stared at Gwen quizzically. "Fruit pies make you nervous?" he repeated. "What does that mean, exactly?"
 
Gwen said after eating her sandwich, "When I had my last Thanksgiving with my former family someone snuck a fruit pie just to torment me."
 
"So you are not actually allergic to pies, you are just worried that there might be cranberries in them," Mark said to clarify what Gwen had said.
 
Gwen said, "I just worry about all fruit pies because of how they are made. In general, I like any other desserts however."
She continues to eat the soup and enjoys it all.
 
"Then it is a lie to say you are allergic to them," Mark said quietly but firmly. He didn't want to scare her, only to make her understand how serious he was. "Lying is not good in general, but lying about allergies is a dangerous thing. You can say you don't like something, and you don't have to have a reason to not like it, you can just not like things, but you mustn't lie and say you are allergic. Alright?"
 
Gwen said, "Sorry for lying sir. I promise not to lie again sir. I will tell the truth from now on sir."
 
Mark nodded. "Good. Thank you. And you don't have to eat pies if you don't trust them." He stood and started cleaning up the table.

Gruff came up closer to the table and sniffed warily at Gwen. He wasn't used to visitors, and certainly not such short visitors, and he wanted to get a good look at Gwen. He didn't want pets, not yet, but he was getting curious about this short little person.
 
Gwen said to Gruff, "Sorry for petting you without permission. I understand I have to be trusted first. It is nice to meet you anyway. I won't hurt you or anyone that is friendly."
 
The tiny stub that was Gruff's tail wiggled cautiously at Gwen's words, and his black nose wiggled curiously. He didn't go any closer to her, but he did seem to be relaxing a little.

The white dog, Glump, watched for a distance. After a bit, he turned and trotted off. He didn't trust little girls.

"Alright, Gwen," Mark said, returning to the table. "I think it's fair while you are living here, you should do some chores. So, what can you do? Can you... dust the stuff you can reach and sweep the floors, maybe?"
 
Gwen said, "I can straightened my room out very nice and neat, make up beds, help with the dishes, and different stuff like that. I am a hard worker that doesn't complain about any chore. I even can make the hard chores look easy. My favorite chore if I had to pick 1 would be folding clothes and towels. After I fold them I put them where they need to go."
 
Mark held up a hand. "Whoa, now, I didn't mean for you to turn into Cinderella. You just look after your own room and the laundry, then, if you really like doing that sort of thing. Keep the floors clean, and pick up any messes you make, and I'll clean up after myself. Sound fair?"
 
Gwen said, "Sounds like a fair deal to me. I didn't mean to mention all of those things. I was giving you ideas."
She needs to remember each of the house rules by memory.
 
"That's alright," Mark assured her. "I just don't want you to feel like you have to slave away here or something. You live here, so you should work to help keep the place tidy, but it's my job, too. We'll just... figure this out as we go."
 
Gwen said, "I am not mad about that at all. I don't feel like being a slave at all. I was trying to be the best daughter I can."
 
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