Allison smiled at Frank's appreciation for the meal. Cooking for herself alone these days, she didn't often go to this extent and effort. It wasn't about rationing, particularly with the fall harvest. There was plenty of food in the pantry and root cellar, as well as a lot of [i]meat on the hoof[/i] running about the property.

When she asked him about staying a while, Frank told Allison that he not only accepted but would earn his keep. She chuckled, telling him, "Well, there's plenty of work. Some of the crops have been rotting on the vine or limb. If you could help me with that, that would be wonderful."

The well-trained Australian Shepherds had been sitting in their pen watching the humans eat, the yearning to leave the enclosure evident in how their bodies were practically trembling. Allison stood, scraped the leftovers fairly evenly onto three plates, and set them out a couple feet from one another on the ground. Looking to the dogs, she said sharply, "[i]Eat![/i]"

In a flash, the dogs shot out of the pen, each of them to one of the plates. It only took seconds for them to devour what Allison and Frank had taken twenty minutes or so to enjoy. She told her new companion, "I have chores to do, but first we need to tend to your needs. Come with me."

Allison led Frank to the home's backdoor and Mud Room. She indicated a man's robe hanging on a wall peg, telling him, "You can wear this after you shower. Strip. Down to your birthday suit." 

She smiled at his reaction, then pushed a door open to reveal a small bathroom. "You can shower in here. Head to toe suds. I know you think you're immune, as am I, but that doesn't mean you're not carrying one of the variants that can live for weeks without a host. There's a garbage bag. Put your clothes in it and we'll burn them out in the yard."

She looked to Robert, who was grabbing at Frank's face and collar with nimble fingers. "I don't have clothes for the little one, but we'll figure something out. I'm sure there's something we can fashion to work."

Pushing open another door, this one showing the kitchen beyond, Allison said, "When you're done, come in here. I'm prepping vegies for canning. We'll find you something to wear. You look to be about Grampa's size. He passed away before the pandemic, so his clothes are still in his closet."

Allison felt a wave of emotion sweep over her suddenly. The cause was obvious. Losing Gramma had been hard on her. She had been a unique individual. One of her quirks had been her refusal to discard any of her long-deceased husband's possessions, even his clothes. The clothes that had belonged to family members who stayed her during the pandemic had been burned, of course, which left only Grampa's wardrobe to serve Frank.

"Okay, so..." she said, stepping backwards into the kitchen. "You're going to want to hurry. The hot water heater isn't that big. When you're done, if you want, there's a pack of disposal razors if you want to shave." She gave little Robert a last look and smile, then turned to leave Frank to take care of business."