Humans like me.
Arlene tried to meet my eyes in the mirror. She failed.
"That vamp in the bar your buddy?" she asked, putting a very unpleasant emphasis on the last word.
"Yes," I said. Even if I hadn't liked Pam, I would have said she was my buddy. Everything about the Fellowship made the hair rise up on my neck.
"You need to hang around with humans more," Arlene said. Her mouth was set in a solid line, and her heavily made-up eyes were narrow with intensity. Arlene had never been what you'd call a deep thinker, but I was astonished and dismayed by how fast she'd been sucked into the Fellowship way of thinking.
"I'm with humans ninety-five percent of the time, Arlene."
"You should make it a hundred."
"Arlene, how is this any of your business?" My patience was stretched to its breaking point.
"You been putting in all these hours because you're going with a bunch of vamps to some meeting, right?"
"Again, what business of yours?"
"You and me were friends for a long time, Sookie, until that Bill Compton walked into the bar. Now you see vamps all the time, and you have strange people staying at your house."
"I don't have to defend my life to you," I said, and my temper utterly snapped. I could see inside her head, see all the smug and satisfied righteous judgment. It hurt. It rankled. I had babysat her children, consoled her when she was left high and dry by a series of unworthy men, cleaned her trailer, tried to encourage her to date men who wouldn't walk all over her. Now she was staring at me, actually surprised at my anger.
"Obviously you have some big holes in your own life if you have to fill them with this Fellowship crap," I said. "Look at what sterling guys you pick to date and marry." With that unchristian dig, I spun on my heel and walked out of the bar, thankful I'd already gotten my purse from Sam's office. Nothing's worse than having to stop in the middle of a righteous walkout.
Somehow Pam was beside me, having joined me so quickly that I hadn't seen her move. I looked over my shoulder. Arlene was standing with her back flat against the wall, her face distorted with pain and anger. My parting shot had been a true one. One of Arlene's boyfriends had stolen the family silverware, and her husbands...hard to know where to start.
Pam and I were outside before I could react to her presence.
I was rigid with the shock of Arlene's verbal attack and my own fury. "I shouldn't have said anything about him," I said. "Just because one of Arlene's husbands was a murderer is no reason for me to be ugly." I was absolutely channeling my grandmother, and I gave a shaky hoot of laughter.
Pam was a little shorter than I, and she looked up into my face curiously as I struggled to control myself.
"She's a whore, that one," Pam said.
I pulled a Kleenex out of my purse to blot my tears. I often cried when I got angry; I hated that. Crying just made you look weak, no matter what triggered it.
Pam held my hand and wiped my tears off with her thumb. The tender effect was a little weakened when she stuck the thumb in her mouth, but I figured she meant well.
"I wouldn't call her a whore, but she's truly not as careful as she might be about who she goes with," I admitted.
"Why do you defend her?"
"Habit," I said. "We were friends for years and years."
"What did she do for you, with her friendship? What benefit was there?"
"She..." I had to stop and think. "I guess I was just able to say I had a friend. I cared about her kids, and I helped her out with them. When she couldn't work, I'd take her hours, and if she worked for me, I'd clean her trailer in return. She'd come see me if I was sick and bring me food. Most of all, she was tolerant of my differences."
"She used you and yet you felt grateful," Pam said. Her expressionless white face gave me no clue to her feelings.
"Listen, Pam, it wasn't like that."
"How was it, Sookie?"
"She really did like me. We really did have some good times."
"She's lazy. That extends to her friendships. If it's easy to be friendly, she will be. If the wind blows the other way, her friendship will be gone. And I'm thinking the wind is blowing the other way. She has found some other way to be an important person in her own right, by hating others."
"Pam!"
"Is this not true? I've watched people for years. I know people."
"There's true stuff you should say, and true stuff that's better left unsaid."
"There's true stuff you would rather I left unsaid," she corrected me.
"Yes. As a matter of fact, that's...true."
"Then I'll leave you and go back to Shreveport." Pam turned to walk around the building to where her car was parked in front.
"Whoa!"
She turned back. "Yes?"
"Why were you here in the first place?"
Pam smiled unexpectedly. "Aside from asking you questions about your relationship with my maker? And the bonus of meeting your delectable roommate?"
"Oh. Yeah. Aside from all that."
"I want to talk to you about Bill," she said to my utter surprise. "Bill, and Eric."
Chapter 7
"I DON'T HAVE ANYTHING TO SAY." I UNLOCKED MY car and tossed my purse inside. Then I turned to face Pam, though I was tempted to get in the car and go home.
"We didn't know," the vampire said. She walked slowly, so I could see her coming. Sam had left two lawn chairs out in front of his trailer, set at right angles to the rear of the bar, and I got them out of his yard and set them by the car. Pam took the hint and perched in one while I took the other.
I drew a deep, silent breath. I had wondered ever since I returned from New Orleans if all the vamps in Shreveport had known Bill's secret purpose in courting me. "I wouldn't have told you," Pam said, "even if I had known Bill had been charged with a mission, because...vampires first." She shrugged. "But I promise you that I didn't know."
I bobbed my head in acknowledgment, and a little pocket of tension in me finally relaxed. But I had no idea how to respond.
"I must say, Sookie, that you have caused a tremendous amount of trouble in our area." Pam didn't seem perturbed by that; she was just stating a fact. I hardly felt I could apologize. "These days Bill is full of anger, but he doesn't know who to hate. He feels guilty, and no one likes that. Eric is frustrated that he can't remember the time he was in hiding at your house, and he doesn't know what he owes you. He's angry that the queen has annexed you for her own purposes, through Bill, and thus poached on Eric's territory, as he sees it. Felicia thinks you are the bogeyman, since so many of the Fangtasia bartenders have died while you were around. Longshadow, Chow." She smiled. "Oh, and your friend, Charles Twining."