Chapter 182: She Could Want It and Still Say No

Dove drank some water before speaking to the dealer. It gave her a moment to stop looking at the motorhome as if it had personally lied to her.

"I’m not buying it," she said. "The repairs are more than I want to take on."

The dealer nodded without acting betrayed. He had disclosed the leak and expected an inspection to find more. He asked whether she wanted him to hold it while she considered the repairs. She declined, relieved when he accepted the answer and closed the folder.

Dove paid the mechanic with the goods she’d set aside. He had done exactly what she’d asked, including the part she hadn’t enjoyed. She thanked him before the disappointment could make her sound ungrateful for useful information.

Thorne carried the small trades they had made toward the service truck. Edrik walked beside her, letting her be quiet until she reached for his hand. He closed his fingers around hers without asking whether she was all right every ten steps.

"You can say it was a terrible idea," she told him.

"It was an idea we checked."

That answer made her look at him. He hadn’t even smiled. She had been ready to defend herself, and now he was standing there holding her hand like she hadn’t wasted his morning at all.

Thorne joined them after loading the goods. "You didn’t buy the wrong one. That’s useful."

"You’re both being very irritatingly kind."

"I can stop," Edrik offered.

"You absolutely cannot. I’ve gotten used to it."

His smile came slowly enough to make her feel what she’d admitted. She leaned against him for a moment, then let go so they could get into the truck.

The mechanic drove them back to A. Dove asked how to keep their pickup reliable and whether a camper would overload it. He answered plainly about weight, parts, and fuel. She wrote down what to inspect rather than turning one disappointing motorhome into another expensive guess.

They already owned a working pickup. She wanted a bed to travel with, and she wasn’t giving up every useful thing she’d saved to drag a rotten one behind them.

At the charging station, they collected their equipment after the attendant checked the labels with Dove. Their cart remained where it had been left. Edrik secured the charged pack in its padded place, and Thorne put the new awning clips with the tools instead of letting them disappear among snacks.

Iris found them there and offered lunch at the kitchen before they returned to B. Dove accepted and asked whether they could eat outside. She wanted shade, a full plate, and a conversation that didn’t involve repair bills.

They ate large bowls of rice, meat, and vegetables in the courtyard. Iris asked how the inspection had gone, listened to the answer, and said she had once bought kitchen equipment because she wanted the business it might let her run. "The damn thing never worked properly," Iris admitted, stabbing a carrot. "I kept thinking it would if I threw enough at it."

"I want a kitchen that follows me," Dove said after a while. "And a bed that doesn’t become somebody else’s decision when I leave for a few days."

Iris looked toward the shaded buildings around them. "Those are reasonable things to want. A bad vehicle isn’t the only way to get them."

Dove stole a piece of chicken from Thorne’s bowl while considering that. He moved the bowl closer rather than guarding it like a wounded animal. Edrik watched with a thoughtful expression, then asked Iris about recovery crews that rented space on their vehicles instead of selling the vehicles themselves.

That was something Iris actually knew. Traders sometimes booked a section of a truck for a fixed trip, carrying their own stock and paying a share of fuel or goods. Some crews permitted beast-form travel beside the load when the road allowed it. She could introduce them to someone when they had a destination worth the cost.

Iris went inside briefly and returned with a thin campground booklet from the office’s old travel shelf. It held photographs of cabins, picnic areas, and lakes that had once been advertised as easy weekend trips.

"The roads in this are old," she warned. "Don’t use it to choose a route. I thought you might like the pictures."

Dove took it more carefully than she had taken the inspection report. Nobody was promising the places still looked that way. She could enjoy seeing them anyway.

"Thank you," she said. "I would have pretended I was too busy to look for this myself."

Iris smiled. Thorne tucked the booklet into a dry part of their bag, and Dove watched him leave it near the top where she could reach it.

Dove asked how a shared truck differed from taking their pickup. A known driver might offer cargo space and current road information, Iris said, but the terms would depend on the trip. Dove kept the idea. She wasn’t spending their fuel or paying a fare until she knew where she wanted to go.

Back in B, the power remained off as planned. Their charged light made the rear room pleasant enough, and the battery fan moved air across the bed. Dove put away the items from the dealership and kept the inspection notes with the map.

Sprout closed the day’s tasks after the four curtain sales, her practice, and a stored surplus fitting the dealer had included in their trade. Seventeen new Favor from the day’s reactions and the single mate extra left her at sixty-seven. Her normal balance reached eleven hundred and sixty-one.

"Sprout, leave the two power books on my wish list," she said. "The motorhome can get off it."

"Would you like to replace the vehicle goal?"

"No. I’d like to be disappointed without shopping my way out of it."

She shut the menu and opened their snacks instead. Edrik let her have the first handful, then stole one from her palm with his teeth. She nearly dropped the bag.

"You’re being distracting on purpose."

"You noticed," he said, looking far too pleased.

Thorne sat beside her and asked whether she still wanted the afternoon in the yellow dress they’d promised. Dove looked at the warm room, the closed front door, and Edrik already making space on the bed.

"Tomorrow," she said. "No work before lunch."

A freight-office runner slid a folded note beneath the front door, then called that he would collect an answer on his way back along the street. A recovery crew had been given her name by Iris and wanted to hire the household for a trip to a former event-supply yard.

Dove read the proposed departure time, then looked at Thorne. For once, the hard part wasn’t whether she could do the job. It was whether she could let a job wait.