People You Can Trust
“Part of me wants that damn company to go under,” Greg said, chewing a sausage with a gloomy look before knocking back his beer. “But then I think about the people who still have to work there, and that doesn’t feel right either.”
“Man… You’re too soft for your own good.”
I went to the fridge, pulled out every can of beer I had, and dumped them into an ice bucket I’d gotten free as a promotional gift sometime back.
“Drink. Drink as much as you want and just crash here. Going home tonight would only make your family worry.”
“…My mom’s gonna lecture me to death.”
I thought it over for a second, then decided a well-intentioned lie was the way to go.
“Tell your mother I came down with something and asked you to help with the kids. Then stay the night.”
Greg glanced over his shoulder. The kids were playing with half-lidded eyes, still laughing as if nothing in the world could be more fun.
“…Our daughter’s about to be born. What am I supposed to do if her dad’s unemployed?”
“Ah, stop fretting over nothing and just send the text already.”
Greg nodded and hesitantly messaged his mother. Then he stepped out onto the terrace and called Rachel as well.
While he was gone, I put together a few more simple snacks. Chicken nuggets into the air fryer, a fresh batch of fries, and quesadillas stuffed with spicy seasoned meat, jalapeños, and cheese.
When Greg came back from his call and sat down at the table again, he blinked.
“Mom said it was fine. I told Rachel too… Dude, how did you make this much already?”
“A little farewell dinner for quitting. Eat, drink, and get it all off your chest.”
“…Yeah. Honestly, I’ve got no one but you.”
We clinked beer cans over the heavily seasoned snacks and talked through everything about the company. Officially, it was a farewell dinner to comfort Greg. But once I started unloading everything that had been going on with me, I felt lighter too.
Tomorrow we’d have to face reality again. Still, every so often you needed a night like this—eating, drinking, and forgetting the headaches for a while.
I’d always thought Greg held his liquor better than I did, but tonight he was the one who went down first.
I carried the kids, already breathing soft and even in their sleep, to bed, then hauled Greg over to the couch. Lately our couch seemed to be taking more of a beating than usual.
I rinsed the empty beer cans, dropped them into the recycling bin, and cleared the table. When I checked the time on my phone, a few unread notifications caught my eye.
“…Oh my God.”
Accumulation details:
◈ Water Drop Slime Plush — 100 points earned for production
◈ Orange Blossom Slime Plush — 100 points earned for production
◈ Honey Slime Plush — 100 points earned for production
(…)
I scrolled all the way down the long string of notifications. Seven plush names in total, adding up to seven hundred points.
Since not all ten of the plushies I’d made were listed, Cassandra must not have delivered the rest to the neighbors yet. It seemed the points came in as each doll was handed over and each child felt that little spark of happiness.
The remaining three hundred would probably arrive tomorrow, or sometime over the weekend.
“….”
Last week, the time I’d spent making those plushies had been barely an hour. Materials had cost almost nothing. Effectively, I’d earned a thousand dollars in an hour.
I stared at the near-free points on the screen, then looked over at Greg sprawled across the living room floor.
If I play this right…
The next morning.
“Daddy! Dada!”
“Daddyyy.”
“Dada!”
“Daddy?”
“…Huh? Huh?!”
I jolted awake to the kids’ double-act of calling for me. Luca was standing by the bed, gripping the guard cushion and looking down at me with a sly little grin.
“What. Why are you smiling like that, Luca?”
“Dada! Kyaaaah!”
“Aigoo, Daddy’s ears are going to fall off.”
I scooped up Luca, who was launching dolphin-squeals at full volume, and Reni hopped nimbly down from the bed.
“Daddy, it’s an emergency.”
“Hm? What’s going on?”
Reni darted into the living room and pointed from a safe distance at Greg, still sprawled asleep on the couch.
So the emergency was Greg?
“Daddy, why did Uncle Greg sleep at our house? Was Uncle really tired?”
“Yeah. Uncle said he was way too tired yesterday. Reni, can you wake Uncle Greg up so we can all have breakfast together?”
I still had to take Reni to the cathedral, and if Greg was going to play the pub gig that afternoon, he needed to stop by home first to wash up and change clothes.
Reni crept carefully toward Greg—then spun right back around, pinching his nose.
“But, but Uncle smells like alcohol!”
“Does he? Should we just tell him to go home, then?”
Reni’s vigorous nodding made me laugh out loud first thing in the morning. I opened the terrace door, and a fresh breeze rolled in.
I sat the kids at the table, brewed coffee, and went to wake Greg.
“Hey. Hey. Get up.”
“…Huh? Is it time for work?”
“No. You don’t go to work anymore. You quit, remember?”
The cold splash of reality made Greg’s eyes snap open as he sat up. I handed my still-dazed friend a shot of espresso.
“Drink this, wash your face, and come out. Breakfast.”
When Greg emerged from the bathroom, I set a plate of eggs, bacon, toast, jam, and butter in front of him. The ungrateful bastard covered his mouth slightly and asked,
“…You guys wouldn’t happen to have cup ramen, would you? Spicy, if possible.”
An Italian-American who knew to nurse a hangover with ramen—how?
Still, he looked so pitiful that I quickly boiled him a cup. Greg took it and escaped alone to the terrace to recover, carefully avoiding Luca, who kept raising one eyebrow and scowling at him every time he looked over.
I spooned Luca his morning baby food and said casually,
“Luca, if you keep staring at him like that, Uncle Greg’s going to feel sad.”
“Mama.”
“Yeah, that’s right. What you’re eating is mama. Mama.”
“Hee…”
Luca grinned and munched away. Watching him, I thought it was a blessing he still couldn’t talk properly. Unlike Reni, who was born gentle enough to feel genuine pity for Greg, Luca looked ready to say something like, How dare you sit at my table looking like that?
A little later, Greg came back in looking sheepish, empty cup ramen in hand.
“Feeling more human?”
“Yeah. Thanks. I’ll head out first, then. See you at the pub later.”
Greg left ahead of us, and I got the kids ready to go out.
“Reni, next time Daddy picks you up, we’ll be in the new vroom-vroom. Because of when the car arrives, Daddy might be a little late. Can you wait for me?”
“Okay!”
“That’s my good boy. Let’s go.”
As usual, Cassandra had come for pickup with Charlie, and we rode with them to drop Reni off at the cathedral. On the way to the pub right after, I brought up the idea I’d been turning over in my head since last night.
“Cassandra, did you deliver the plushies to the kids yesterday?”
“Oh, yes. They absolutely loved them. They’re all around Reni’s age—there must be something that only clicks for kids that age.”
“Right. The slime plush idea actually came from Reni in the first place… Later on, I was thinking we could try content that really brings kids’ imaginations to life.”
“For example?”
“Well. What if we regularly did activities that grow their creativity?”
You couldn’t just tell kids to use their imaginations and expect something to pop out on command. And the Manito App wasn’t exactly telling me to run children like a factory for money, either.
“So I was thinking we could start by filming something like playtime with the kids. We have the new studio now, so there’s plenty of space.”
“Hmm, that does sound promising. But playing with kids full-time isn’t easy. Jun, are you sure about your stamina?”
“No. Not me—what if we hired Greg? The kids already love him. Charlie does, Reni does…”
I couldn’t exactly claim Luca was a fan, but still.
“Greg? Someone who’s doing fine at his company, all of a sudden…?”
I explained the whole situation. She’d find out soon enough anyway, and I wanted to make Greg the offer today if I could, so he wouldn’t have to dig himself into a hole for long.
“What is wrong with that damn company?!”
Once she heard the story, Cassandra was furious.
In the end, we decided to hire Greg as a sub-editor, a babysitter who would play with and look after the kids, a sound tech, and—when needed—a road manager.
Greg showed up at the pub looking a little better than he had the day before.
“You doing okay?”
“Yeah. I still haven’t told my family I quit… I figure I’ll take whatever work I can get, make some money, and tell them later.”
Once he left the house in the morning, his family wouldn’t know where he was going anyway, so he planned to keep it secret for a while. I was just glad he’d pulled himself together so quickly.
After hearing him out to the end, Cassandra and I offered him the job—editor and all the rest of it.
“What do you think? If you’re good with it, I’d love you to start right away. Heads-up, though—you might have to work weekends.”
“…Jun. Are you serious?”
“Yeah. I told Rachel this too—I was already planning to hire a sitter for the kids if we needed one. And for editing, I was going to outsource at first and then bring someone on full-time. You edit your own YouTube videos, don’t you?”
“I do, but… it’s not really editing. I just use the basic program…”
Greg answered uncertainly, and Cassandra gave his shoulder a couple of firm pats.
“Basic is enough. You’ll learn the rest as you go. I started by teaching myself too.”
I nodded. From where I stood, Greg looked far more like the type to shine in editing than in spreadsheets.
Greg hesitated a moment, then asked,
“I’m grateful. Really. Getting to keep working in the same place as Rachel is great, and once the baby’s born, being able to stay close is great too… But are you sure you’re okay with me?”
“Yeah. I’m sure.”
When you hire someone new, figuring out whether you can trust them isn’t easy. That only comes with time. With a sitter you’d entrust the kids to, that trust mattered even more—and in that regard, Greg was…
“I can trust you.”
He’d recently been drilled by his family on how to look after kids, and he was the only person who would genuinely care for not just his own child but ours as well.
“Plus you compose a little, right? It’d be great if you handled the music for the channel too… Ah—don’t cry, for real.”
“If you can’t do the work, you’re fired, so give it everything! And do well starting with today’s show.”
Cassandra laughed and headed back toward the kids in the audience.
“I’m really going to work my ass off.”
“Yeah, but fair warning—the pay won’t be that great?”
Even after the warning, Greg grinned happily and picked up his guitar.