Chapter 148: Her Husbands Needed Supervision

The pump caught on the second try, and Dove waited until water came out before allowing herself to breathe. A machine making noise was encouraging, but she had owned a washing machine that made plenty of noise while accomplishing absolutely nothing.

The worker watched the discharge hose, checked the pressure, and finally nodded to his supervisor. The man signed their recovery slip. Dove accepted it before he could discover anything else he wanted dragged out of a flooded building.

"That was lovely," she told her husbands. "Now we’re going home, and neither of you is allowed to notice anything heavy on the way."

Thorne took her hand while Edrik secured their empty carts in the pickup. Sprout confirmed the sixty normal coins from the completed recovery, bringing that balance to 1,077. Dove had 813 Favor, shoulders tired from carrying hoses, and no intention of cooking. She spent part of their ordinary trade payment on roast chicken, potatoes, vegetables, and enough bread that nobody had to pretend a dinner roll was a meal.

Their shop stood two streets inside Base B’s delivery gate, wedged between a restaurant and a repair business. The public counter faced the road. Behind it, a curtain separated their bedroom from the shelves, and a narrow washroom opened on the bedroom’s right. The rear door led into the shared service yard, with their pickup parked on the higher strip beside the fence.

It was small enough that Edrik had to turn sideways when Thorne passed him carrying plates. Dove liked that she could see the whole place from her chair. More importantly, she liked that she had chosen it.

Thorne reached for the recovered kitchen rack before sitting down, and she caught his wrist. "The rack isn’t hungry. You are, so let it enjoy being unemployed until tomorrow."

He kissed her fingers and sat. Edrik watched him with that slow smile which usually meant Dove was about to have a difficult time remembering her own point.

"What do I get for sitting without being told?" he asked.

"The thrilling chance to eat before I steal your potatoes."

He moved his plate closer to hers instead of away, and she loved him a little more for understanding the threat.

Over the next five days, the room started working the way she wanted. The kitchen rack cleared space beside the basin. A hook kept their towels off the bed, and a basket by the door stopped Edrik’s gloves appearing wherever she planned to sit. Thorne claimed he had never seen a woman argue so fiercely with a pair of gloves.

"Then you’ve lived a sheltered life," she told him, hanging them up again.

Sprout offered coffee filters the first morning, battery lanterns the next, and cargo shorts after that. Dove asked why it could not tell her tomorrow’s stock when people were already asking for more lanterns.

"Current stock is confirmed. Future rotation is not a promise."

"So I shouldn’t take orders for things you might decide are inflatable flamingos."

"You have not unlocked recreational inflatables."

She stopped folding a pair of shorts. "That wasn’t a request, but now I’m annoyed about it."

The goods sold, the daily targets paid, and her lessons continued in the rear yard. Edrik corrected her feet while Thorne kept a customer from wandering through the practice space. She still lost her balance when she hurried. Understanding what she wanted her body to do did not make her body cooperate, which felt deeply personal.

On lantern day, they searched a vacant repair shop with the owner’s permission. Dove spotted a sealed tool roll above a cabinet, looked at Edrik, and held up her arms.

"Lift first, smug comment afterward. I’m trying to be efficient."

He obeyed the useful half, holding her steady while she reached. Back on the floor, she kissed him before he could say anything. His surprise softened into a look that stayed with her for the rest of the afternoon.

The tool roll later earned the right adapter for their movie player. The little screen finally worked without a borrowed power pack balanced on a chair, and Dove checked every disc as though she were choosing a vacation.

Sprout’s fourth day brought family pizza boxes. She sold three and paid four Favor to keep the last, then added salad and extra meat from the restaurant. Thorne ate his share before settling with his head in her lap while she sat against the bed. Edrik remained beside the table, repairing a strap that had become noticeably less urgent.

"Come sit down," she said, reaching for him.

"I’m nearly finished."

"You don’t have to finish something to be allowed over here. Bring your handsome face and leave the strap."

His hand went still. She wished she had said it sooner, before she had spent half an evening waiting for him to put down a strap she didn’t give a damn about.

He joined them, warm along her side. When Thorne stole the last crust off her plate, she complained loudly enough that both men laughed, then leaned against Edrik and stayed there. Sprout kept its notices quiet until she checked them later.

By the fifth evening, the lunch bags had sold and the normal balance had reached 1,292. Five days of proper work and practice had paid for more than a growing number. She had clean clothes, comfortable meals, and two men arguing over which movie she would hate least.

Dove washed with her retrieved pond water in the little washroom, changed into a soft shirt, and returned to find Thorne holding her spot. Edrik had put the tools away without being asked.

She wanted this again tomorrow. That was the frightening part, how quickly a room could become something she would fight to keep.

Before the movie started, she asked Sprout whether saving for her training book would make the other offers disappear.

"The unlocked offers remain available. Buying comfort does not replace practice."

"Neither does buying a book, apparently. You’ve been very clear about ruining that fantasy."

Thorne drew her feet into his lap. Edrik offered her the last cold drink, already opened, and she accepted both without searching for a reason to deserve them.

Sprout showed her final Favor balance when she asked. Nine hundred and one. The manual cost nine hundred.

She had spent days wanting it to become affordable. Now the choice sat in front of her, and she no longer had the price to hide behind.