Marked in Flesh
Page 137
“I know this is an off-limits place,” Twyla began.
“For the children,” Meg said hurriedly.
“You got reasons for your rules, and those reasons should be respected.” Seeing Meg’s scars, Twyla’s dark eyes held neither pity nor discomfort. “But I believe in earning my keep. The folks running the Courtyard are looking at what skills are available to them, and they’ll sort out the work as soon as they can. In the meantime, I can help with the dusting and mopping if that would be of use to you. I noticed the back room could use a bit of shine. And there’s bound to be plenty of loose hairs coating the floor in that front room.” She winked at Meg.
Nathan growled and went back to his Wolf bed.
“Thank you,” Meg said. “I haven’t kept up with cleaning.”
“Mind if I ask what you’re doing?”
“This binder holds the names of companies owned or run by the Intuits. I’m supposed to order as much as I can from them from now on so that the people in Lakeside can’t complain that we’re taking rationed goods away from them. And I have lists of things people would like to buy in the Market Square grocery store. But some things . . . People have listed a dozen different kinds of cereal, and I don’t know how to choose.”
“How many kinds of cereal does that store have now?”
“I’m not sure. The Others eat a lot more meat than cereal.”
Moving slowly, Twyla eased around the table until she stood beside Meg and could look at the lists.
“Which of these do you think something like himself would eat?” Twyla tipped her head to indicate Nathan. “Or those Crows?”
“Sierra gave me this list of cereals the children would want. . . .”
Twyla shook her head. “Children will pester and pester for something until you buy it, and then they won’t want it anymore. Don’t you be thinking about that. You just think about what’s useful to the most residents.” She tapped a list. “Oatmeal is a winter cereal that can be fancied up with berries and nuts and a bit of sweetening. If you can get them, order a cereal made from corn and another made of oats—things you can eat by the handful if you need something quick. Those who want something different can buy it at another store or do without.”
“Tess said something like that.” Actually Tess had said if humans didn’t want to eat what was offered in the Courtyard they could feast on their stubbornness and starve.
Twyla gave Meg’s hand a little pat. “Don’t you let everybody else’s wants get you flustered. Whether it has two legs or four, just because a pup yaps at you doesn’t mean you have to pay it any mind. Now, I’ll let you get back to your work while I put a bit of shine to the back room.”
Listening to Twyla singing in the back room, Meg put aside the binder and the lists. Yes, she felt flustered, but it wasn’t really about the foods and merchandise people wanted. Worrying about things like cereal was a way to avoid the question that had been in her thoughts ever since she pulled that “romance” card from the drawer.
How much human did she want? In many ways, she counted on Simon not thinking like a human, not acting like a human. She trusted him because he wasn’t human. Could she count on him not slipping too far into being human if she wanted to explore just a little bit, just enough to see if romance might provide a different kind of euphoria?
She frittered away the afternoon, signing for a couple of deliveries, but mostly shuffling the lists without doing anything with them.
Just how human could Simon be without giving up what he was? Was there a way to find an answer without either of them getting hurt?
Nathan had left for the day, and she was closing up the office when Simon walked in, looking hot and ready to bite.
“I want to go swimming tonight,” Meg said, not sure if she was making a suggestion or issuing a challenge.
“With the female pack?”
Understandable assumption. The female pack would need permission to go to the swimming hole in the Corvine part of the Courtyard. “No, with you. Just us. Not even Sam.”
Simon cocked his head. “Not with Sam? Why?”
She swallowed hard. “I want to try skinny-dipping.”
He was so still, she wasn’t sure he was even breathing.
“That’s swimming without clothes,” he finally said.
“Yes.”
“Both of us swimming without clothes. In human form.”
“Yes. But . . . that’s as much as I want to try.”
“After dark?”
She couldn’t imagine doing it when she could be seen. “Yes.”
Simon scratched behind one ear. “All right. Are we going home now?”
He didn’t sound angry or upset that she didn’t want to do more. He sounded . . . baffled.
They finished closing up the office and loaded the BOW with her carry sack and whatever he was bringing back to the apartments. As they drove away, it occurred to her that she was just as relieved to leave the humans behind as he was.
• • •
“Meg wants to go skinny-dipping?”
That Vlad sounded as baffled as he felt made Simon feel better. At least he wasn’t the only one who was confused. “That’s what she said. With me. After dark. With both of us in human form.”
“None of us wear clothes when we play in the water unless we’re giving the clothes a quick rinse without removing them.”
“For the children,” Meg said hurriedly.
“You got reasons for your rules, and those reasons should be respected.” Seeing Meg’s scars, Twyla’s dark eyes held neither pity nor discomfort. “But I believe in earning my keep. The folks running the Courtyard are looking at what skills are available to them, and they’ll sort out the work as soon as they can. In the meantime, I can help with the dusting and mopping if that would be of use to you. I noticed the back room could use a bit of shine. And there’s bound to be plenty of loose hairs coating the floor in that front room.” She winked at Meg.
Nathan growled and went back to his Wolf bed.
“Thank you,” Meg said. “I haven’t kept up with cleaning.”
“Mind if I ask what you’re doing?”
“This binder holds the names of companies owned or run by the Intuits. I’m supposed to order as much as I can from them from now on so that the people in Lakeside can’t complain that we’re taking rationed goods away from them. And I have lists of things people would like to buy in the Market Square grocery store. But some things . . . People have listed a dozen different kinds of cereal, and I don’t know how to choose.”
“How many kinds of cereal does that store have now?”
“I’m not sure. The Others eat a lot more meat than cereal.”
Moving slowly, Twyla eased around the table until she stood beside Meg and could look at the lists.
“Which of these do you think something like himself would eat?” Twyla tipped her head to indicate Nathan. “Or those Crows?”
“Sierra gave me this list of cereals the children would want. . . .”
Twyla shook her head. “Children will pester and pester for something until you buy it, and then they won’t want it anymore. Don’t you be thinking about that. You just think about what’s useful to the most residents.” She tapped a list. “Oatmeal is a winter cereal that can be fancied up with berries and nuts and a bit of sweetening. If you can get them, order a cereal made from corn and another made of oats—things you can eat by the handful if you need something quick. Those who want something different can buy it at another store or do without.”
“Tess said something like that.” Actually Tess had said if humans didn’t want to eat what was offered in the Courtyard they could feast on their stubbornness and starve.
Twyla gave Meg’s hand a little pat. “Don’t you let everybody else’s wants get you flustered. Whether it has two legs or four, just because a pup yaps at you doesn’t mean you have to pay it any mind. Now, I’ll let you get back to your work while I put a bit of shine to the back room.”
Listening to Twyla singing in the back room, Meg put aside the binder and the lists. Yes, she felt flustered, but it wasn’t really about the foods and merchandise people wanted. Worrying about things like cereal was a way to avoid the question that had been in her thoughts ever since she pulled that “romance” card from the drawer.
How much human did she want? In many ways, she counted on Simon not thinking like a human, not acting like a human. She trusted him because he wasn’t human. Could she count on him not slipping too far into being human if she wanted to explore just a little bit, just enough to see if romance might provide a different kind of euphoria?
She frittered away the afternoon, signing for a couple of deliveries, but mostly shuffling the lists without doing anything with them.
Just how human could Simon be without giving up what he was? Was there a way to find an answer without either of them getting hurt?
Nathan had left for the day, and she was closing up the office when Simon walked in, looking hot and ready to bite.
“I want to go swimming tonight,” Meg said, not sure if she was making a suggestion or issuing a challenge.
“With the female pack?”
Understandable assumption. The female pack would need permission to go to the swimming hole in the Corvine part of the Courtyard. “No, with you. Just us. Not even Sam.”
Simon cocked his head. “Not with Sam? Why?”
She swallowed hard. “I want to try skinny-dipping.”
He was so still, she wasn’t sure he was even breathing.
“That’s swimming without clothes,” he finally said.
“Yes.”
“Both of us swimming without clothes. In human form.”
“Yes. But . . . that’s as much as I want to try.”
“After dark?”
She couldn’t imagine doing it when she could be seen. “Yes.”
Simon scratched behind one ear. “All right. Are we going home now?”
He didn’t sound angry or upset that she didn’t want to do more. He sounded . . . baffled.
They finished closing up the office and loaded the BOW with her carry sack and whatever he was bringing back to the apartments. As they drove away, it occurred to her that she was just as relieved to leave the humans behind as he was.
• • •
“Meg wants to go skinny-dipping?”
That Vlad sounded as baffled as he felt made Simon feel better. At least he wasn’t the only one who was confused. “That’s what she said. With me. After dark. With both of us in human form.”
“None of us wear clothes when we play in the water unless we’re giving the clothes a quick rinse without removing them.”
