Somehow though, she looked different in here. Not as dead inside as she usually appeared when Sullha saw her at meals or just passing by.
She was working a sheet through the rollers, and she looked peaceful. Her shoulders were loose. Her hands moved without hesitation. She was in that moment more present in her own body than Sullha had seen her in years.
It lasted until she looked up.
"Sullha? What are you doing here?"
The peaceful expression closed and was replaced by the cautious blankness that her mother usually wore. The transformation was like a slap to the face.
"I brought lemonade," Sullha said, lifting the pitcher. "I thought you might want a cool drink while working in this heat."
Her mother looked around at the woman working the press next to her.
She was older than her mother by perhaps ten years and built like a tugboat. "Take a break, Leehy. Go drink lemonade with your daughter."
"I can't, Miral. It's not time for my break yet."
"Who's to know? We have you covered."
Her mother still looked unsure.
Sullha set the pitcher and the four glasses on the folding table and poured lemonade into two of them.
"I couldn't bring lemonade for everyone, but I brought two extra glasses."
"We will share," Miral said.
"Thank you."
As Sullha picked up the two filled glasses and gestured toward the door with her chin, her mother reluctantly followed her out into the morning air.
The shaded bench next to the wall of the building was a perfect spot for the laundry personnel to take breaks on. Sullha sat down at one end, and her mother sat at the other, looking like she would rather be anywhere else.
They drank for a moment without speaking. The lemonade was cold and slightly too sweet, but her mother seemed to like it.
"You looked different in there," Sullha said.
"What do you mean?"
Sullha shrugged. "You looked peaceful. I didn't know that you liked working in the laundry so much."
Her mother turned the glass in her hands. The condensation had wet her fingers, and she rubbed her thumb along the rim.
"The work is hard, and the heat is oppressive, but it's safe, and I'm among friends."
There was no good response to that, and the silence was at least honest, which was more than most of her conversations with her mother managed.
"Miral seems nice," she said.
"She is."
"I've never met her before."
"You haven't been to the laundry before."
"No."
"The laundry is its own little enclosure. It's a different world here. As long as the work is done, no one bothers us."
