Annie in the foster system
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"No offense," Annie does add in Evelyn's general direction after a moment. "It's not you as a person. Honestly it's barely even foster care. It's childhood. I feel very done with it."

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Miss Enderbridge snickers. "Being a child is terrible," she says to Annie in a conspiratorial voice. "The only upside is having more time to read when you don't have a job, and being retired is much better. Nobody trying to get all up in your business. Except by bringing you casserole, apparently, and I don't mind that." 

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The oven is finally preheating! Wow, Miss Enderbridge's oven is terrible. Evelyn is definitely considering 'getting all up in her business' to have someone in to fix it, no wonder she doesn't cook much. 

 

The iced tea is easily findable in the fridge, along with...not very much else, there's a carton of eggs and a carton of milk that expired two days ago and some condiments (lemon juice, mustard, jam, butter and cream cheese) and an elderly bunch of celery, and that's about it. Evelyn pours a tall glass of iced tea and lemon-juices it, finds some ice cubes in a tray in the freezer to chill it even more, and brings it over to the table for Annie. She also fills the kettle and puts it on, since Miss Enderbridge is apparently too occupied in Kafka literary analysis to even remember to make tea. 

"Why don't I pick up some groceries for you as well, when I do errands later?" she suggests. "It's only fair, since you're looking after Annie so I can do my shopping." 

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"You really don't have to." 

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"I'd like to, though. Bread and bologna sausage and baby potatoes and frozen peas are the usuals, right? And how about mayo, you can't have a bologna sandwich without mayo." 

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"Yes, all right, if you insist." But Kafka though. 

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And eventually casserole! It comes out pretty good, even with the janky oven. 

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Miss Enderbridge goes back for seconds and thirds, eating just as politely and delicately as before and patting her mouth with a napkin between bites, a book open beside her. 

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Evelyn steps on a desire to helpfully do the dishes; there's no sign Miss Enderbridge even has trouble with dishes; her appliances may be questionable, and she doesn't even own a microwave, but her kitchen is spotless.

She does have a sneaky peek in the cupboards and recycling, looking for empty or nearly-empty food packaging. Miss Enderbridge seems to eat canned tuna and bran cereal and instant oatmeal and canned cream of celery and mushroom soups. Great, she'll stock up on those too. 

"Have a nice time," she tells Annie. "I'll be back in a few hours." 

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Does Annie want to browse, or be recommended more books? 

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Annie is going to browse. Picks up the Tale of Genji but puts it down after a few pages. Ooh, Gilgamesh.

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That one is very good! Miss Enderbridge isn't going to spoil it for her but will sneak looks of grinning anticipation at her while she rereads her own copy of Wuthering Heights. She kind of has a hankering to reread Tess of the d'Urbervilles but that one is, in fact, arguably naughty, or at least about the concept of naughtiness, so she doesn't. 

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"It must be so odd to be created specifically to be with someone else," muses Annie distantly after she's a ways into Gilgamesh.

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"Hmm? ...I suppose it really would be. Might be nice to have a soulmate, if they were actually lovely and right for you." Snort. "On the other hand, then you'd be stuck with them. No escaping it. I always liked being unattached." 

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"Well, obviously the worst thing would be having a soulmate and not having them around, wouldn't it?"

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Miss Enderbridge looks very thoughtful. "It doesn't seem like it would be very nice, no. Especially not if the character in the book lost them in a very tragic way. ...In some books about soulmates, the character knows they have a soulmate somewhere out there even before they've met them. That's what I think would be really odd, I can't imagine what it would be like. To know there's someone, but not who they are..." 

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Nod nod nod nod.

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Annie seems interested in this. "Did you read a good book about soulmates, dear?" 

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She shakes her head. "Um, my parents died when I was only a couple days old. And I grew up mostly in hospitals, they were trying to figure out what was wrong with me, and - I talked really really early, when I was only about four or five months old. And one of the first things I said was that I was missing somebody. They said probably my parents. I think it might have been more likely I got attached to somebody who was taking care of me for longer, after that point, a nurse or something? But either way I didn't actually know."

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"...You are a funny one, aren't you." Miss Enderbridge shakes her head. "I think sometimes our brains are very clever things, and they remember things we don't even realize we know. Maybe it was a nurse – or maybe you really do have a soulmate you haven't met yet! Wouldn't that be something." 

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"It really would. What are the books about soulmates? Do you have them?"

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"Proper soulmates, hmm - I'm not sure that book I'm thinking of is actually one of mine and not a library find, and it wasn't classic literature at all. I can rustle you up some for next time. If you just want love stories, about two characters who are just right for each other and eventually find each other - well, that I have plenty of right here."

Another conspiratorial look. "...Your dear foster mother might not approve of love stories for someone who looks as little as you, but I think you're only little on the outside. Still, maybe best to read them here before she gets back." 

Would Annie like to peruse the cover blurbs for Romeo and Juliet, Gone with the Wind, Jane Eyre, and several Austens (Persuasion, Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility)? 

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Ooh yes! She will set down Gilgamesh and pick up Romeo and Juliet. "- Oh, it's a play! Neat!"

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"It is! It's best read aloud, but that takes much longer. Do tell me if you need help with any of the words, it was written a whole four hundred years ago so it's English from another time and that one isn't an annotated copy." 

Miss Enderbridge has been reminded that Shakespeare exists and is going to read The Tempest

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