“Wedon’thaveanywomen’s clothing in the house so these are probably going to be too big on you,” Doc explained sheepishly as he set a pile of clothing on the bed.
The room that he had brought me to was sparsely furnished with only a bare mattress sitting on a wrought iron bed frame and a rickety looking table next to that. The rest of the space was filled with brown boxes of various sizes, telling me that they probably used this space as some kind of storage room.
“Thank you.” My voice was shy and I was having a hard time looking him in the eyes. After they finally coaxed me out from underneath the table, things had become quite awkward. Rex had stomped out of the room, cursing under his breath and Podcast had followed along behind him, probably to soothe the angry alpha that he was clearly bonded to.
Bat and the last alpha, a man named Storm, made themselves scarce as Doc gave me a tour of their home. The bar that they owned was attached to the side of what Doc called an ‘old’ Queen Anne style mansion, though houses like this had still been relatively new in 1915. It was well taken care of, though, and all of the furnishings inside were plush and comfortable as if a lot of thought had gone into them.
The room I was using was up two flights of narrow stairs on the third floor. It was a bit dusty, but being so high up made me feel safe.
There was a soft knock and Podcast stepped into the room with arms full of blankets and pillows which he dumped onto the bed before his hands started to move again.
“She can’t sleep in your room with you, Podcast, Rex is having enough of a fit as it is,” Doc told the other man who frowned and his hands continued to move as he said something that made Doc snort as he glanced over at me.
“Do you know any sign language, Juneau?” he asked.
I shook my head. “No, but I know a maid who works in the kitchen who uses it.” I had been fascinated by how her hands would dance through the air as she spoke to one of the footmen who could understand her.
Podcast whipped the black square out of his pocket, a phone I reminded myself, and began to tap the screen with his thumbs again before turning to show me what he wrote.
‘I CAN TEACH YOU IF YOU’D LIKE?’
“I’d like that a lot, Podcast,” I nodded enthusiastically, his name rolling off of my tongue as I watched as his heavily lashed green eyes fluttered. He was one of the prettiest men that I’d ever seen, and the desire to touch him filled me yet again. I had to tuck my hands into the folds of my skirts to stop myself. Rex’s reaction to me trying to touch Podcast earlier made me skittish and I didn’t want to get yelled at again.
“Okay, on that note, we’ll see you in the morning, Juneau, try and get some rest,” Doc said as he placed his hands on Podcast’s shoulders and physically turned him toward the door.
Podcast shot me one last look before the door shut behind them, cutting us off from each other and leaving me all by myself.
I picked up the shirt from the top of the pile and brought it to my nose. It smelled clean, as if it was freshly washed, but I could still smell the slightest hint of eucalyptus in its fibers which told me who it belonged to.
I wanted nothing more than to slip out of my uncomfortable gown and into the soft shirt and pants that they had provided for me, but I quickly realized that there would be no getting out of the dress on my own. It had taken three people to get me into the blasted thing, and I was pretty sure it would take at least that to get me out of it.
Upon that realization, a sense of claustrophobia began to rattle in my chest as I gripped the neckline of the gown, wishing I was strong enough to tear the dress off of my body with just my bare hands. The desire to crumple to the floor in a fit of tears was so strong and sudden that I could already feel the sting of moisture in my eyes.
I needed to regain control of my emotions or I was going to end up in a puddle of my own making.
“You are Juneau Wilde. You do not melt into tears just because you are in a strange situation,” I scolded myself as I flipped my skirts up and undid the garters that held up my stockings, rolling them off and tossing them into the night stand drawer. I then began to painstakingly take out each of the little jewels that had become helplessly tangled in my curls during my travels from 1915 to 2022, muttering curses under my breath as pain bloomed across my scalp from the yanking.
I never truly understood just how much work Dorothea did with my hair until I was now forced to try and dismantle her styling.
Once I had gotten every jewel that I could reach out, I took off the jewelry on my neck, ears, and wrists.
It wasn’t much, but it was at least something. I just wished that I could reach around and get to the stays of the corset underneath my gown. The boning was painfully tight and only contributed to the panic that I was working so hard to quell.
“Do not focus on it,” I told myself as I turned my attention away from being trapped in my dress and toward where I was going to sleep.
Sleeping on a bed in the middle of an unfamiliar room was most definitelynotgoing to result in any sort of rest. I needed to create some kind of a nest space, but with no closet and no alcoves in the room I was at a loss.
I turned to eye the stacks of boxes that were haphazardly shoved into the corner of the room. A stack of flat, collapsed boxes were leaned underneath the curtained window and as I stared at them, an idea began to form in my mind.
Getting to work immediately, I began to move the boxes around stacking them and forming a little alcove against the wall. I topped the box walls with the flattened cardboard, giving my makeshift nest a little roof before stepping back to look at my handiwork.
It wasn’t much, but it would help to alleviate some of the anxiety I was feeling.
I pulled the stack of nesting materials off of the bed and set to work trying to make the space as comfortable as possible. The mattress on the bed would have made a nice base for my nest, but I wasn’t sure if I could lift it on my own, so the pillows would have to do.
Humming maniacally to myself, I finally pulled together what was only a semblance of my nest back home. A sharp sting of longing filled me as I crawled into the nest, Podcast’s spare clothing in hand, and flopped down into the soft material.
I couldn’t curl up into a ball or even lie on my side thanks to the corset, so I lay flat on my back and stared up at the cardboard ceiling of my nest.
