Chapter 181: Her Dream Had Water Damage

Dove brought the fault list to breakfast and pointed at the line about the bed. "If this means there’s something growing under my imaginary mattress, I would like to know before I name the vehicle."

"You were naming it?" Thorne asked.

"Not anymore. It has behaved badly."

Edrik read the note, then turned it over to check the back. "We’ll have him look underneath, too. I’d rather you were mad at the floor now than fell through it later."

Day Ninety-Four started with washing, a proper meal, and fifteen minutes of practice in the shaded yard. Dove got one escape right, one wrong, and the third right slowly enough to understand why. Edrik told her which step had worked, and she asked to repeat it before she forgot the feeling.

Dove chose household goods, and Sprout offered packs of light curtains, four sales for sixty normal coins. She asked whether the system had heard her wanting a house and decided to sell her the accessories first.

"Window coverage supports privacy and comfort," it replied.

"You could support my comfort by giving me a discount."

"Will these let air through, or am I buying prettier blankets?"

Sprout showed her the light fabric and dimensions. It couldn’t choose a fit for windows she hadn’t measured. Dove checked one pack before setting it aside for display. There was no point selling privacy if the buyer had to suffocate to enjoy it.

They took the charged equipment list, the cables, the mechanic’s payment, and one cart to A. Their pickup stayed in its paid yard space since the mechanic was driving them onward from A. Their small cooling chest stayed empty at the shop; carrying it around wouldn’t improve their battery supply. The larger office unit remained in place, unused during the street’s shutdown except when an approved source was available.

At the charging station, an attendant checked the devices and gave them a collection time. Dove kept the written acknowledgment. It was useful to know which pack was hers when half the room seemed to contain black boxes with handles.

Iris met them outside with the mechanic, an older goat beastman with gray hair and a canvas tool bag. He introduced himself as the man who would inspect the vehicle, then asked whether she wanted a purchase opinion or a list of repairs.

"Both, please. If it’s a terrible idea, don’t soften it because I look hopeful."

His expression improved. "That makes the job easier."

They traveled to the dealership in his service truck, with the dealer expecting them. Thorne sat beside Dove in the back seat, Edrik in front where his knees had more room. Their cart stayed at the charging station’s holding area by agreement. Dove had tied a strip of yellow cloth around its handle so the attendant could point it out easily when they returned.

The service truck smelled of oil and old upholstery. Past the abandoned fast-food place, a left turn brought them to the dealership’s gravel lot. Its sales office stood at the entrance, with the workshop behind the parked campers. Dove remembered the way herself this time and pointed out the pothole before the mechanic hit it. She wanted a bed, but she would settle for keeping her teeth together until they arrived.

Thorne shifted his knee so hers had more room. She rested her hand on his leg, and he covered it without looking away from the window. She liked going somewhere with him when nobody was chasing them. It was a low standard for a pleasant morning, but it was hers.

At the dealership, Dove went straight to the sales office. The badger-eared dealer greeted her, noticed her clean scent, and briefly forgot the inspection he’d arranged. Edrik cleared his throat. The dealer recovered and led them toward the motorhome.

Dove waited outside while the mechanic worked. Hovering wouldn’t make his answer kinder. She examined ordinary stock with Thorne, looking for things worth having whether the motorhome passed or failed.

They found sound cupboard bins, a used but clean folding table, and replacement clips for the awning. Dove didn’t buy all of them. She chose what they needed, then asked the price before imagining it already belonged to her.

The curtain packs attracted the dealer’s attention. Several occupied vehicles used blankets over their windows, which trapped heat and fell down at inconvenient moments. He called over the owners of two nearby sales-yard campers being used by workers. With permission, she opened beside the workshop on level concrete. Four packs dispensed for the approved trades while the mechanic worked. She packed the empty shop before going to hear his answer.

She liked that the trip could succeed in more than one way. It made waiting less painful.

Thorne noticed her watching the motorhome door. "You can be disappointed if he says no. You don’t have to make it a joke immediately."

"That sounds inconvenient," she said, watching the mechanic disappear through the motorhome door again. "I’d prefer to find the joke first."

"I’ll still be here if you don’t," Thorne said. She rested against his side and let him mean it.

His hand settled at her waist. Edrik brought them water, then stood on her other side while the dealer checked another customer’s order. Dove took a long drink and handed the bottle back. They were both staying until she had her answer, even if it was one she hated.

The mechanic eventually came out and asked her to see something before they discussed price. Dove followed him through the narrow kitchen toward the rear bed. Thorne waited by the doorway, and Edrik stayed outside so the little aisle wasn’t full of shoulders.

The bed base had been lifted for inspection. Beneath it, the floor near the wall had softened. The damage was wider than Dove had expected from one small line on a list.

"This is repairable by someone equipped to do it," the mechanic said. "That doesn’t mean it’s a sensible replacement for your pickup. It needs more than a seal and a fresh mattress."

Dove nodded. She understood, even if she hated the answer. The engine needed work, and two tires were unsafe for long trips. He wasn’t calling the whole vehicle worthless. He was telling her she would be buying a project before she bought a place to sleep.

She stepped back outside and stood in the shade of the workshop. Edrik took one look at her face and put the water bottle into her hand.

"What did he find?" Edrik asked. Dove turned the bottle in her hands before telling him about the floor, the engine, and the tires. Saying the list aloud made the bed behind that window feel farther away.

She had expected a laugh from herself after that. None came. Across the lot, a family-sized camper door opened, and someone shook crumbs from a tablecloth onto the gravel.

Dove wanted that ordinary life badly enough to start counting what else she could trade. Then she caught herself looking toward the truck keys on Edrik’s belt, and her stomach sank. Was she really considering giving up the vehicle that already kept them safe?