Page 12 of Sustaining
A sigh puffs from my lips, blowing my long brown hair from my face as I pull open the tightly sealed door.
Familiar, unbearable humidity clings to my skin the moment I step inside. Two woman and a younger boy, who appears to be barely eighteen, mill around the enormous room.
A pretty woman a few years younger than myself steps around the big form press at the center of the room. Panels of wood are bent across it, taking the shape of the curved boards of a ship. Big brown gloves cover her hands. Her shirt is tied at the middle, exposing most of her stomach, while her skirt is stained and saturated with moisture, knotted at the hip. Her legs, arms, and cheeks shine in the dim lighting with a coat of sweat.
“A new one.” She smiles a big, inviting smile as she walks toward me.
“An old one actually. I’m Arlow. I used to work here a lot when I was in school. My father is Taron.”
“Oh, boss’s kid. Gotcha. I’m Vixen.” She gives a little easygoing nod. She doesn’t look like a vixen. She’s cute. Approachable. Sweet maybe. “Molly, did you used to work with Arlow?” She turns to the older woman.
I most definitely used to work with Molly.
The woman barely glances my way before mumbling something about bats that I don’t quite hear.
“She’s kind of…rude sometimes. And Miles is so damn shy I can’t get him to say more than good morning to me.”
The young boy, Miles, gives a timid, awkward smile. When he meets Vixen’s eyes directly, he blushes at her.
“Makes for a long day, really. I just want someone to bitch to from time to time. Is that too much to ask for?”
“That’s what I’m here for.” I spread my arms out at my sides, and her smile only widens. “Well, that and I have to build like a fuck load of naval ships if we can fit it in in our spare time.”
She grimaces like working isn’t really her strong suit. “We might be able to fit it in.” She passes me a pink ribbon hair tie that feels entirely too pretty for the nasty humid room we’re standing in.
I pull my hair up high on my head, almost matching her inky, curly locks that are spilling around her heart-shaped face. She gives me a second to knot my skirt at my hip, making sure we really have a nice uniform look together, and then she passes me two thick, worn gloves.
“Need me to give you a run-through, or do you think you remember it all?”
“A short walk-through might help.”
She walks me through the room. Men bring in new stacks of smooth lumber, pulling away the nicely curved planks from the forms in the center of the room.
“So the Sanders will bring the clean lumber into the steam room where the slabs will ‘soak’ for no less than an hour. Once they come out of the steam room,” she points to the actual steam room adjoining this room through the wide door, “we need to get them set into the forms within five minutes. After that time, they start to stiffen up and run the risk of cracking when we try to bend them into shape. Stiff wood is bad in this room.” She winks sarcastically at me.
She pauses, and I give a nod, remembering the process as she describes it all.
“While they sit, we’ll do some staining upstairs and then we’ll take them off the form using our gloves and do this fun stuff all over again.”
“Great.” It’s not great. I’d much rather be making cookies and pastries with my mom, but I didn’t exactly think to offer to pay Linden in blueberry muffins, so here we are.
Vixen and I go through the back and forth process of moving the pale slabs of lumber together for about an hour, catching the fresh air and staining in between when we get the chance. We’re just loading up the wood onto the forms when I really start to yawn.
To be honest, I haven’t done physical labor in years. I can’t imagine being in the forest actually using my strength to get this work done like my men.
As if she can read my drifting mind, the woman at my side speaks.
“Are you dating anyone?” Vixen wipes her brow with the back of her hand as her deep-brown eyes look to me on the other side of the curved table.
“Um…” I bite the inside of my cheek. Maybe I should start practicing how to explain my mates sometime. Something easy and vague likeI have these men, they’re not a harem exactly, they’re just a collection of sorts, and they all love me, but not all of them will let me tell them I love them and…oh yeah, three of them are dragons, and one of them is a demon, but not like a I’m-going-to-eat-your-soul demon, the fun kind and stuff.
“I’m dating…a few men,” I say instead.
She stops her quick movements of shoving the wood into their slots to glance my way. Seconds pass as she blinks at me.
“Five-minute rule, Vix. Stop gossiping with the batty bitch and keep moving.” Molly’s big body bumps into mine, acting like I’m not even fucking there as she goes.
My eyes widen. Something in me burns to life. Anger strikes right through my chest.
