With another sigh, this one a very quiet and private one, I returned the lingerie and the nightgowns to their tables. Nonessentials. I felt sad to part with them, but I felt better overall. Buying clothes to suit a specific need, well, that was okay. That was a meal. But buying underthings, that was something else entirely. That was like a MoonPie. Or Ding Dongs. Sweet, but bad for you.
The local priest, who had started attending Fellowship of the Sun meetings, had suggested to me that befriending vamps, or even working for them, was a way of expressing a death wish. He'd told me this over his burger basket the week before. I thought about that now, standing at the cash register while Tara rang up all my purchases, which would be paid for with vampire money. Did I believe I wanted to die? I shook my head. No, I didn't. And I thought the Fellowship of the Sun, which was the ultra right-wing anti-vampire movement that was gaining an alarming stronghold in America, was a crock. Their condemnation of all humans who had any dealings with vampires, even down to visiting a business owned by a vamp, was ridiculous. But why was I even drawn to vamps to begin with?
Here was the truth of it: I'd had so little chance of having the kind of life my classmates had achieved - the kind of life I'd grown up thinking was the ideal - that any other life I could shape for myself seemed interesting. If I couldn't have a husband and children, worry about what I was going to take to the church potluck and if our house needed another coat of paint, then I'd worry about what three-inch heels would do to my sense of balance when I was wearing several extra pounds in sequins.
When I was ready to go, McKenna, who'd come back from the post office, carried my bags out to my car while Tara cleared the amount with Eric's day man, Bobby Burnham. She hung up the phone, looking pleased.
"Did I use it all up?" I asked, curious to find out how much Eric had invested in me.
"Not nearly," she said. "Want to buy more?"
But the fun was over. "No," I said. "I've gotten enough." I had a definite impulse to ask Tara to take every stitch back. Then I thought what a shabby thing that would be to do to her. "Thanks for helping me, Tara."
"My pleasure," she assured me. Her smile was a little warmer and more genuine. Tara always liked making money, and she'd never been able to stay mad at me long. "You need to go to World of Shoes in Clarice to get something to go with the evening gown. They're having a sale."
I braced myself. This was the day to get things done. Next stop, World of Shoes.
I would be leaving in a week, and work that night went by in a blur as I grew more excited about the trip. I'd never been as far from home as Rhodes, which was way up there by Chicago; actually, I'd never been north of the Mason-Dixon Line. I'd flown only once, and that had been a short flight from Shreveport to Dallas. I would have to get a suitcase, one that rolled. I'd have to get...I thought of a long list of smaller items. I knew that some hotels had hair dryers. Would the Pyramid of Gizeh? The Pyramid was one of the most famous vampire-oriented hotels that had sprung up in major American cities.
Since I'd already arranged my time off with Sam, that night I told him when I was scheduled to leave. Sam was sitting behind his desk in the office when I knocked on the door - well, the door frame, because Sam almost never shut the door. He looked up from his bill paying. He was glad to be interrupted. When he worked on the books, he ran his hands through his reddish blond hair, and now he looked a little electrified as a result. Sam would rather be tending bar than doing this task, but he'd actually hired a substitute for tonight just for the purpose of getting his books straight.
"Come in, Sook," he said. "How's it going out there?"
"Pretty busy; I haven't got but a second. I just wanted to tell you I'll be leaving next Thursday."
Sam tried to smile, but he ended up simply looking unhappy. "You have to do this?" he asked.
"Hey, we've talked about this," I said, sounding a clear warning.
"Well, I'll miss you," he explained. "And I'll worry a little. You and lots of vamps."
"There'll be humans there, like me."
"Not like you. They'll be humans with a sick infatuation with the vampire culture, or deaddiggers, looking to make a buck off the undead. None of these are healthy people with long life expectancies."
"Sam, two years ago I didn't have any idea of what the world around me was really like. I didn't know what you really were; I didn't know that vampires were as different from each other as we are. I didn't know that there were real fairies. I couldn't have imagined any of that." I shook my head. "What a world this is, Sam. It's wonderful and it's scary. Each day is different. I never thought I would have any kind of life for myself, and now I do."
"I'd be the last person in the world to block your place in the sun, Sookie," Sam said, and he smiled at me. But it didn't escape my attention that his statement was a wee bit ambiguous.
Pam came to Bon Temps that night, looking bored and cool in a pale green jumpsuit with navy piping. She was wearing navy penny loafers...no kidding. I hadn't even realized those were still for sale. The dark leather was polished to a high shine, and the pennies were new. She got plenty of admiring looks in the bar. She perched at a table in my section and sat patiently, her hands clasped on the table in front of her. She went into the vampire state of suspension that was so unnerving to anyone who hadn't seen it yet - her eyes open but not seeing, her body totally unmoving, her expression blank. Since she was having some downtime, I waited on a few people before I went to her table. I was sure I knew why she was there, and I wasn't looking forward to the conversation.
"Pam, can I get you a drink?"
"What's with the tiger, then?" she asked, going straight for the conversational jugular.
"Quinn is who I'm seeing now," I said. "We don't get to stay together much because of his job, but we'll see each other at the summit." Quinn had been hired to produce some of the summit's expected ceremonies and rituals. He'd be busy, but I'd catch glimpses of him, and I was already excited about the prospect. "We're spending a month together after the summit," I told Pam.
Ah-oh, maybe I'd over-shared on that one. Pam's face lost its smile.
"Sookie, I don't know what strange game you and Eric have going, but it's not good for us."
"I have nothing going! Nothing!"
"You may not, but he does. He has not been the same since the time you two spent together."
"I don't know what I can do about that," I said weakly.