Page 16

Imogene

Serendee is, at times, a strange mix of past and present. Anex discusses this in his lectures, how taking from both creates a perfect community. We don’t drive cars inside the walls—we walk, or occasionally use horses or wagons. But there is still use for the innovations of the outside world—trucks for delivering product from the farm. Solar powered electricity to keep the buildings running day and night. And thankfully, he believes in washing machines because the amount of laundry we go through at The Center is getting out of hand.

Our detergents and soaps are locally made, and we hang everything on the line. That is my task for today, but when I walk into the laundry room, I stop short. Maria is already there, pulling white sheets from the machine. It’s not so much that she’s in the room that causes my pause, it’s the way her hands flutter up to her belly—her bare belly. She’s in a top and skirt similar to the one Margaret wears.

“What—” I clear my throat, drawing my eyes away from the deep v of her cleavage. “What are you doing in here?”

The women do help around the house, but nothing physical. Mostly sewing or cooking. She shrugs, hands still splayed over her pale stomach. I’ve known Maria my entire life. The skin on her abdomen has never seen the light of day before.

When she doesn’t, I step forward and thrust out my hands. “Let me do that.”

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t need to do such strenuous work.” I bend, taking over the chore. “I’ve got this, you go...”

“Go what?” she snaps, stepping back with the swish of her skirt. “Imogene, you know I need something to do. Sitting around isn’t my thing.”

She’s right. Maria is a hard worker. She was always busy with something in our Domun. And now Anex has taken that away from her too. He’s taken her home, her mate, and now her clothes.

Maybe Maria and I aren’t so different after all.

I pick up the loaded basket and nod to the container of clothes pins. “You can carry those and hand them to me while I hang the wash.”

“Seriously?”

I shoot her a look. “Do you want Healer Bloom lecturing you about overworking?” She shakes her head. “Then take what you can get, Maria. That’s all any of us can do.”

We walk out the back door, to the grassy area set up with clothes lines. The weather is a perfect pre-fall day. It’s a reminder that the clock is ticking—the equinox is coming. The idea makes me tense and I get to work, lifting the first sheet.

Maria stands behind me, one hand trying to hide her stomach, the other holding the clothes pins. I can’t help but notice her discomfort with showing so much skin outdoors. I pick up the next sheet and pause. “Here,” I hand it to her, “hold that to cover yourself.”

She takes the sheet and pulls it to her belly, holding it loosely. “Thank you.”

I go back to my chore. “You shouldn’t be put in this position in the first place.”

A gust of wind blows, whipping my hair around my head. I grab for it, pushing my collar aside in the movement.

Maria gasps. “What happened?”

I frown, fingers brushing over the spot where my neck and shoulder meet. The skin is tender, and my nose wrinkles at the sensitivity. “Oh, nothing,” I say quickly, adjusting my collar back. “Just a bruise I got from being clumsy.”

She eyes me warily, and I refocus on the laundry and keeping it off the ground. Maria knows me—well, knew me—better than anyone. If anyone can see through my lies it’s her.

“Looks painful.”

“It’s nothing.” Just a love bite from my forbidden lover, that’s all. “I’d forgotten all about it.”

She hums and hands me a clothes pin, watching as I struggle with attaching the corner to the line.

“You’re different,” Maria says.

I glance down at her belly. “I’m not the only one that’s changed.” She blanches and clutches the sheet like a shield. “What’s with the clothes?”

“Anex decided that Margaret’s dress elevated the importance of the womb. That for the baby to experience the most love, it should always be forefront.”

“You’re pregnant. Exposing your skin doesn’t make it more noticeable.” My eyes dart to her chest where the real feature is her tits. “And it’s not just your belly you’re revealing.”

“Anex said—”